#it’s just expected that everyone else moves on from it without any resolution somehow

[mithliya]

Funny thing about 'abortion made her do it' is that absolutely no one was forcing her to be online! And read all that, post all that. She could have deleted. She even answered and fought people 'in pain from my abortion in the hospital bed' so there is some attention seeking going on. I saw some anons she got and they were outrageous but at no point did macro consider logging off. Or just telling us all to f.ck off and die or something. She jumped right to homophobia. And doubled down later. There is no excuse, no justification. Every time I go through hard shit I don't say bigoted stuff instead of just telling everyone to shut up.

i think she wasn’t in the hospital at all but had an at-home abortion but. also, yes. there were times i was really stressed & nervous and i would intentionally stay out of such things on tumblr for that reason bc otherwise i’d stress puke and perhaps have a mental breakdown. and no one can think clearly and word themselves well in such situations so it’s counterproductive. it’s not healthy for anyone! but also it does not justify prejudice. she said this stuff after being fully recovered anyways, having an abortion is not a pass for repeated questionable & then downright lesbophobic comments.

i get a shit tonne of online harassment and have been for years, every week i receive several messages bringing up my rape & inducing PTSD flashbacks, ive received many threats & multiple ppl have posted my name & my family’s faces despite me saying i don’t share my parents faces bc they can be jailed & tortured & even killed if tied to my blog in which i talk about being a lesbian & criticise my country’s govt. people did not care. they outright laughed at me and called me insane as i begged them to remove pictures of my mother from their blogs. and despite that i have not been cut any slack when said anything even slightly badly worded on here. in fact, things from when i was actively being abused as a teenager are constantly brought up against me, despite me apologising for my actions from back then. i’m not sure why others get to have endless empathy & patience extended to them whereas some of us receive none of it, when in reality it should be somewhere in the middle. there’s a reasonable level of understanding & patience but it gets unreasonable when u expect ppl to overlook someone saying lesbophobic things bc they had a hard time 2 weeks ago.

[steddiesupportgroup]

Man, for a show I’ve fallen in love with and had so much anticipation for, I ended up kinda wishing I hadn’t watched vol2.

Spoilers and a huge rant under the cut

The whole time I was literally shaking with nerves about what was gonna happen to Eddie, to all of them. His last moments (the whole last two eps honestly) dragged on for what felt like hours. It wasn’t fun; it was nerve wracking. And yeah, maybe it’s my bad for getting so attached to a fictional character in a show where people die, but so what? He makes us happy in a time where things aren’t going super well, brought us comfort. If we can’t use fiction as an escape, what’s the point of it?

All that aside, I’m still disappointed about other things. El saying goodbye to Brenner and finding her strength was great, as was the whole thing with Hopper, but other than that? I spent the whole four hours dreading what was gonna happen. I feel like they took the whole “all hope is lost” thing way too far. Watching Lucas hold Max while she begged to die made me fucking sick, as did watching Eddie sacrifice himself. I hate this trend of having people guess who’s gonna die, it’s just sad. Lucas getting beaten up by Jason, who, yeah he died, but didn’t get what he deserved. He was grieving and deranged, and then he was nothing.

And like they touched on Steve’s character arc for a split second before taking ten steps back. I don’t believe that he wants to get back with Nancy because he keeps finding new people in his life, new experiences that change his worldview. Why go back to a girl that is hung up on someone else? This isn’t even a steddie thing- they could’ve touched on his growth without involving her. He’s someone who protects people now, who keeps putting others before himself and doesn’t stop fighting no matter what. Maybe he doesn’t even need a canon relationship to find worth and value. The dream with the kids was cute, but he’s so much more than some guy who can save the world but can’t move on from his first love. I want them to have love for each other, but they both need more.

And man, Nancy and Jonathan are really dragging on. I like them as a couple, really! But couldn’t they have other conflict? Or keep the conflict without involving Steve? All that buildup for them to lie to each other about how good they are, it just doesn’t make sense. I expected Jonathan to tell her the truth about college, or have him circle back to thinking about what it would look like if they kept holding on.

And yeah, Robin and Vicki at the end was just some hetero “we don’t know how to write queer relationships” bullshit. Just because they’re both girls and can have things in common doesn’t mean they need to be the same person. Robin deserves better than that, even someone who knows what she’s been through (winking at you ronance shippers).

I knew Byler wasn’t gonna happen, but man, they really couldn’t have had Will and Jonathan have a better conversation? Even at the end? It’s like “everyone knows so it doesn’t need to be said” but why not?? How is Will any different from Robin, who is somehow the only character who can openly talk about her queerness? Because he’s a boy? Because he’s young and in love with his best friend? I don’t wanna watch him cry in the back of the van with Mike if they’re not gonna have some kinda resolution.

I am gonna keep talking about Eddie, actually. His death was wretched, yeah. But the thing that breaks my heart is that now his name is tainted beyond death, and the people who loved him are silenced and pushed to the side. The Munson Murders, what a tragic end for a character who was so loving, so kind and gracious to everyone around him. And how are the writers gonna act like no one else in the group is bothered by his supposed death? They got to know Eddie, they risked everything to save him, and you can’t tell me that it’s business as usual after all that. If he is dead, it’s the worst insult to his memory. Ya know what’s better than dying a hero? Getting justice! Living to see another day with the people who love you! He could’ve become a braver person if he lived and he was already a fucking hero, because just like Steve, he cares about the kids. I can’t imagine what Dustin will go through and I really don’t want to.

So yeah. I know that the writers won’t see this, but I hope with enough pushback they’ll revive his character. If they can do it with Brenner after having his brain turned to mush, they can do it with Eddie after getting the same wounds as Steve. Especially after El brought Max back from the dead.

And man don’t even get me started on Netflix feeding into the Eddie love the whole time, it feels so vicious of them. Rbing steddie fanart and acting like his character was going somewhere. Like we get that little tidbit about Eddie’s dad teaching him to hotwire a car and for what? To never see him again? I don’t believe it.

Okay, I need to stop. Thanks for reading, I’ll be writing a fix-it fic within the next few days <3

[pippytmi]

Howdy! For the little au trope prompt ask. 2, 2, 39. Supercorp please. Thank you! (Hope it helps your writer's block!)

Everyone knows that when the Quidditch season starts, rivalries begin.

As a general rule, Lena doesn’t mind the Gryffindors. If she had to pick a house she hated, the Slytherins would be the unfortunate lot; Veronica Sinclair and Andrea Rojas alone give the group a bad name. (That could be Lena’s own personal bias, given the fact that both girls have broken her heart, but she maintains it goes far deeper than that). But the point stands—Lena isn’t a hateful person. Generally.

There is just something about Kara Danvers that brings it out of her. The one and only Gryffindor that Lena despises is that moronic, reckless Chaser who scores nearly every single goal she takes. The Ravenclaw team is nothing to sneeze at either, but Lena hates that of all people to throw her off her game, it is a girl who blew up her broom when attempting to fly on it during her first year. Seven years that she has known Kara, and still Lena is annoyed at the mere sight of those perpetually-askew glasses, those untucked robes, that undone tie; Kara Danvers is never expected to be poised and perfect, even with all the expectations on her shoulders. She’s just so...blasé. People talk about Kara like she is destined to join a Quidditch team straight out of Hogwarts and all Kara does is stroll into the Great Hall on game day with her head in the clouds.

So far up the clouds that she apparently can’t watch where she is going, either. Lena throws Kara the nastiest glare she can muster when they just about knock each other’s heads together, but all Kara does at the sight of it is grin. She always grins, not in a way that is arrogant or snide, but stupidly amused. Stupidly amused, as if everything Lena says or does is a bloody laugh, like Lena’s simmering hatred is nothing more than an inside joke.

“Hey, Luthor,” Kara says cheerfully, and there she goes, pushing those crooked glasses up her nose. There is a scratch on one lens, and Kara has either not noticed or not bothered to repair it. “Trying to take out the competition a little early, even for you.”

“You were the one in my way, Danvers,” Lena replies tightly.

“Was I?” And here is the kicker, that golden girl charm that fools everyone: bright blue eyes peeking out beneath those eyelashes, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, undone tie slipping an inch further. Kara tilts her head unassumingly as if that is even an actual question.

It makes Lena furious. “Here’s a tip,” she says, “for here and the Quidditch field. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you could actually see where you’re headed.”

Kara has the audacity to look affronted. “Is this because of the Brainy incident during training? Because he and I agreed that it was a joint effort. Joint…blame. Whatever you call it.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Just keep your aggression to yourself, Danvers,” she mutters, and then she resolutely brushes past. She has no time for blank, witty banter, especially when this is the year’s first game and she has a team to rally.

“My—? Hey,” Kara’s voice rings out, louder than necessary, and that idiot is actually following her. “Hey, wait. Lena. Do you seriously think I’m aggressive? It was an accident! Both times!” A beat. “I mean both the Brainy thing and right now. I didn’t knock into Brainy twice. I did knock James off his broom once, but you probably don’t care about that since he’s not from your house, so…well anyway, just so you know, that was also an accident.”

“I have zero interest in your training squabbles,” Lena says exasperatedly, “and you’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Oh so this is about the Brainy incident,” Kara says. “How many times do I have to say that the training pitch was ours?”

“According to you,” Lena counters. With that she whirls around, nearly colliding into Kara’s chest, but she still manages to lift her head up high and stare down that egotistical jackass. “I know you might think you’re entitled to any space you waltz into, but some of us mere mortals actually schedule training sessions. You know, like we’re supposed to.”

“I did schedule the—!” Kara has a tendency to become flustered mid-argument, it seems, because her mouth opens but no words come blustering out. Finally she settles on scowling when she declares, “You are a piece of work, you know that? Would it kill you to apologize to me once in a while?”

“That would imply that you have apologized to me at some point,” Lena scoffs. “Which you haven’t, for the record.”

“Yes I have,” Kara is quick to disagree.

Lena crosses her arms; it’s a challenge, and Kara immediately stands a little straighter when she notices. “Oh?” Lena prompts. “Like when?”

“Like…when I knocked into Brainy.”

“I fail to see how I fit in that scenario,” Lena says, “since you didn’t break my nose.”

Kara gives a little huff, as if this back and forth is all so inconvenient right now; as if she hasn’t instigated it. “Okay, but I apologized for disrupting your practice, remember? I took complete responsibility even though it was your fault you couldn’t keep track of when your team was scheduled—”

“That was not an apology. You literally said ‘Sorry Luthor, we need this more than you do’ and then refused to leave for the next half hour!”

“But I said sorry in there, ergo, it is an apology.”

“Well then, when my team beats yours to dust I’ll be sure to apologize properly for that in that exact same sympathetic manner,” Lena sneers.

Somehow, trash talk only makes that dumb, signature Kara Danvers grin come back, completely wiping away any sign of vexation. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, wise old Ravenclaw—”

Before Lena can even begin to dissect that childish comeback (and stupid sing-songy imitation of the Sorting Hat), other students come filtering down the hall and they are practically swept up in the masses. One kid completely shoulders Lena before she even realizes what’s happening; she stumbles to the left, nearly collides with the wall, and opens her mouth to shout, but then:

“Hey!” Kara is already brandishing her wand with one hand and catching the boy’s collar with the other. “Ten points from Hufflepuff! You could’ve hurt someone, walking around without looking where you’re going.”

Lena bites her tongue to stop from making a quip on how ironic that statement is, because Kara is engrossed in a stare-off with the pimply sixth year who is demanding to see her prefect badge to prove Kara can even take points. She would normally side with the kid—anything to knock Kara Danvers down a peg—but, well. For once, Lena can’t be bothered to actively hate someone getting into a heated argument on her behalf.

Two minutes later and the boy stomps off with ten points gone from his house and a detention to boot. Kara, meanwhile, is still frowning as he leaves. “Are you okay?” she asks absentmindedly, still tracking the kid’s every movement with her eyes. “I swear, if there weren’t so many witnesses I would’ve hexed him.”

“Winning move for a prefect, I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, and Kara turns towards her with that slow-growing buffoonish smile and another sheepish nudge of her glasses. Her next words kind of just fall out, almost as if she’d never formed them in her mouth but in the deep recesses of her subconscious alone: “You know, you confuse me.”

“Huh?” Another nudge. The smile slips a fraction, but just enough to show Kara is slightly confused by the change in subject.

You confuse me, Lena wants to repeat. You are the opposite of self-aware. You are messy, and reckless, and selfless whenever it counts and it’s confusing because all I can really hate you for is being able to get away with being imperfect and still be adored by everyone.

But none of those words, thankfully, leave her head. All she says is, “Your approach to discipline confuses me. It’s not like he purposely tried to run into me—ten points might have been too harsh.”

“This coming from the girl who once threatened to curse me into oblivion for tripping her when we were twelve?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who are you and what have you done to Lena Luthor? No, hold on, I know. You’re really Jess in disguise, right?”

“Hilarious, Danvers. I wouldn’t quit Quidditch, it might be the only place you’re suited for,” Lena mocks, but all Kara does is laugh.

“Nope, definitely Lena,” Kara says, and the way she says it is almost…fond. Come to think of it, Lena can’t remember a time where Kara actually called her Lena. It’s always Luthor and Danvers and stop breaking the faces of my best players and never—never anything else.

Lena clears her throat and looks away; she can’t take another second of those warm, bright eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “I…guess I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Sure thing,” Kara says, and she takes a step back, tucking her wand into her pocket. “I’ll be the one rocking the winning team uniform.”

Slowly, Lena begins to feel the corner of her mouth twitch. Completely unbidden, completely unpredictable. “Dream on, Danvers.” She allows the space between them to grow, but their eyes remain locked, and the air feels heavy—thick—and the weight of their shared gaze holds a meaning Lena can’t possibly unpack right now.

But Kara’s tongue pokes out between her teeth cheerfully, and she doesn’t appear half as bothered by this development. “Always, if you’re in them,” she says, twists a little on her heel to walk away, but she pauses while she is still in earshot. “You know—next time you can just thank me for defending you.”

“You mean abusing your power as a prefect,” Lena replies automatically even as her head is running a mile a minute; even as Kara is getting farther and farther away and the scratch on her glasses lens catches the light.

“That too!” Kara shouts as she gets lost in the crowd, and damn her, Lena has to put her hand over her mouth to hide the absolute idiotic smile that has formed on her own face.

(Joint blame indeed, Lena muses, and she figures that she might as well form a rivalry with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors after all).

[bloody-bee-tea]

Tender

Jiang Cheng can feel his pulse pounding behind his eyes. He has been stressed more than normally at work, with how his father simply keeps unloading all of his own work on to Jiang Cheng, without caring if he can manage it or not, and with the headache Jiang Cheng’s mood has plummeted like it hasn’t in a long time.

He snaps at everyone who steps foot into his office that day and in the end his father comes by to specifically tell him very sternly that he’s more than disappointed with Jiang Cheng and that he expects a better behaviour on the next day.

Jiang Cheng has half a mind snapping at him, too, but in the end he clenches his jaw and simply nods.

His father leaves without another look back and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually feel like putting in over-time that day, so he simply gathers his things and leaves.

His mood doesn’t magically improve when he comes home, even though Thyme and Garlic weave around his feet as if it’s their sole purpose to make him feel better, but the headache only marginally lessens.

Jiang Cheng is pretty sure that it’s about to be a full on migraine and he couldn’t care less for that. He hopes he can get it under control somehow before it makes thinking too hard.

Jiang Cheng decides to go to bed early that day—maybe sleeping it off will help him—but before he goes to sleep he has to give Garlic and Thyme their treats. It’s not their fault that he’s in a bad mood, after all.

They come running as soon as they hear him opening the cupboard and Jiang Cheng gives one treat to each of them, before he relocates to the living-room to make them work for it.

Everything is fine in one second, and in the next Thyme is making a noise as she staggers around on three legs.

“Thyme? Baby?” Jiang Cheng tries, and watches in helpless horror as Thyme walks backwards, not putting any weight on her left front paw, before she hides under the table.

She only stays there for a moment though, before she retreats into a safer corner, and Jiang Cheng already fears the worst.

She does take the offered treats, but she doesn’t come out and Jiang Cheng still sees her favouring her left front paw.

“What happened?” he asks and carefully takes the paw in his hand, but Thyme pulls it back and then curls around it.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes start to burn, because it’s clear that Thyme is hurt, even though he has no clue how it happened, and he doesn’t know what to do.

It’s late already, and he’s not sure if this warrants a trip to the emergency vet or not, and so he decides to wait.

Thyme is skittish but she does leave her hiding spot at one point and limps through the apartment. She eats and she jumps up on several high places, even though she doesn’t seem to know how she’s supposed to get down from them again and every time that happens, Jiang Cheng bursts into tears again.

It’s objectively not that bad; Thyme lets him touch her and her hurt paw, and she is still moving, albeit carefully, and she’s even eating and purring when he picks her up, so it simply cannot be that bad, but when she walks it’s clear she’s in pain and Jiang Cheng hates to see it.

And with how his day has been going, he really can’t help himself but to cry as he watches her limp around, because he is honestly in no emotional state to deal with this.

Jiang Cheng decides to check on her during the night a few times and then call the vet first thing in the morning and he does feel a little bit better with that decision, but it still doesn’t help the tears that are still flowing down his cheeks.

He just hopes his headache doesn’t get worse.

~*~*~

His headache of course does get worse, and Thyme doesn’t get magically better over night. He slept like shit, jerking awake at every sound in fear it’s Thyme and that she’s in more pain now, but she mostly slept on his stomach that night.

Her limp is more pronounced in the morning—as is Jiang Cheng’s headache—and so he calls the vet as soon as he can.

They tell him to come in at noon and Jiang Cheng decides to sleep his headache off until then.

He swallows two painkillers and goes back to bed, but when his alarm goes off, his headache turned into a full blown migraine and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do.

He is always nervous when he has to drive with Garlic and Thyme in the car—worried that he’ll have an accident and get them hurt—and he doesn’t trust himself to drive with the steady pounding behind his eyes at all, but he needs to get to the vet to get Thyme some treatment and he doesn’t know what to do.

He’s in too much pain to even think about being ashamed when he bursts out into tears again, and there is only one place he can think of to go.

So he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door.

“Holy shit, what’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang greets him with when he opens the door and it only prompts Jiang Cheng to cry harder.

“I need help,” he cries out and Nie Huaisang is nodding before Jiang Cheng even says anything else.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Thyme is hurt, but I can’t drive like this, but I have to be at the vet soon and I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry about this, but can you drive me?” he gets out between his tears and his heart falls when Nie Huaisang grimaces.

So he doesn’t have time, that’s just Jiang Cheng’s luck.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang yells into his apartment and Jiang Cheng’s eyes get big.

“What are you doing?” he hisses through his tears, his heart already beating faster and this confused state is no help at all with the tears or his headache.

“I have a meeting in half an hour, but da-ge has the day off. He will drive you,” Nie Huaisang resolutely says and Jiang Cheng shakes his head but stops when that only makes it worse.

Nie Huaisang knows that he has the worst crush on Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually want Nie Mingjue to see him like this.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asks and his eyes go wide when he sees Jiang Cheng. “What’s wrong?” he asks more frantically. “What do you need?”

“His cat is hurt and he needs a lift to the vet,” Nie Huaisang sums it all up for Jiang Cheng, and Nie Mingjue nods before he finishes.

“Of course,” he agrees and honestly, Jiang Cheng is too relieved to feel much shame at all in that moment.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I can’t drive like this and Thyme is limping and I don’t know why and I just need to get to the vet,” Jiang Cheng rushes out and he only relaxes when Nie Mingjue puts a steadying hand to his shoulder.

“Breathe, Wanyin. Of course I’ll drive you.”

“Did you call in to work?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng goes cold with horror.

He completely forgot about that.

“Don’t panic!” Nie Huaisang rushes out, clearly able to read Jiang Cheng’s face. “I’ll call Wei Wuxian and he can just pretend you told him this morning and he simply forgot to tell your father. Jiang Fengmian will believe that,” Nie Huaisang says with a nod and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it might work.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says. “You go do that. Wanyin, did you get Thyme into her carrier already?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“We’ll do that first then,” Nie Mingjue decides and gently pushes Jiang Cheng towards his own apartment. “I’ll gather my things, and you try to get her in there, okay? Can you do that?” he softly asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

Thyme is limping and in no state to run away from him. He’ll just be able to pick her up and put her in, no problem at all. He can do that.

And he does, with minimal fuss even, and he’s kind of glad it’s Thyme and not Garlic who needs to go to the vet. He would be bleeding all over if it was Garlic, he knows that from experience.

By the time Nie Mingjue knocks at his door, Jiang Cheng is ready to go with Thyme in her carrier.

“Alright then,” Nie Mingjue says and carefully picks up the carrier, waving Jiang Cheng off when he moves forward to carry her himself. “You’ll need to give me the address to the vet.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng mumbles and then his eyes start to burn again. “I’m really so sorry to bother you,” he chokes out yet again, because he cannot believe that this is his life today and he really doesn’t know how to deal with any of this.

“You’re not a bother, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue reassuringly tells him. “I’m happy to help you.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what to say to that and so he stays silent as he allows Nie Mingjue to lead him towards his car.

“No,” Jiang Cheng rushes out when he sees that. “We can take my car. You don’t have to take yours.”

“Of course we’ll take mine, come on,” Nie Mingjue gives back and doesn’t allow Jiang Cheng to argue about this.

Before he knows it, he’s already in the back of the car, Thyme’s carrier carefully buckled in and Nie Mingjue is driving, following the instructions of the navigation system.

The drive is a silent one, mostly because Jiang Cheng is still in too much pain to hold a decent conversation and Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind that at all.

“We’re here,” is the first thing he says during the ride and Jiang Cheng looks out of the car window.

They have arrived, but what Jiang Cheng mostly notices is that there’s no free parking space for them.

Nie Mingjue seems to realize that in the same moment.

“Do you have my number?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng shakes his head in confusion.

“I’ll tell Huaisang to send it to you. I’ll park somewhere else and you’ll just call me when you’re done so I can pick you up again,” he decides and Jiang Cheng never knows how to deal with kindness, but especially not today.

“You really don’t have to,” he chokes out, his eyes dangerously watery again, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“Of course I do,” he easily gives back and Jiang Cheng can do nothing but nod.

“Fine,” he agrees and gets out of the car when Nie Mingjue pulls up at the side. “I’ll call you,” Jiang Cheng says as he takes the carrier out of the car as well and Nie Mingjue gives him a thumbs up.

“I bet it’s not that bad, Wanyin. She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Jiang Cheng mutters and then closes the door before he steps into the vet clinic.

He doesn’t have to wait long and everyone is kind enough not to mention the more than obvious tear tracks on his face for which Jiang Cheng is grateful.

He gets a text a few minutes after Nie Mingjue dropped him off; it’s Nie Huaisang forwarding him his brother’s contact details and Jiang Cheng tries to ignore the flutter of his heart as he saves the number in his phone.

This was not how he ever imagined to get this number, but he’s not going to complain about it. Not that he’s ever going to use it beyond this day, either, but before Jiang Cheng can delve too deeply into that spiral, the vet calls him in to tell him the diagnosis.

It’s stupidity. Thyme got diagnosed with stupidity.

She actually has a sprained paw, but since it happened on plain ground in the apartment Jiang Cheng has lived in for more than two years already, it cannot be anything else but stupidity.

The vet doesn’t even do anything besides giving him some pain meds for Thyme that she’s supposed to get once a day.

Jiang Cheng can’t believe this.

He’s out of the clinic before he realizes it, and dialling Nie Mingjue’s number.

“Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng hums.

“We’re done,” he tells him.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

It doesn’t take Nie Mingjue more than two to come and pick Jiang Cheng and Thyme up and he seems to realize that Thyme is not seriously injured because he smiles at Jiang Cheng.

“It’s not so bad?”

“It depends,�� Jiang Cheng says with a frown at Thyme. “It’s just a sprained paw, but what’s really worse is that she’s too stupid to walk straight without getting injured,” Jiang Cheng says and his stomach does a funny thing when Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

Jiang Cheng settles into the back of the car again, wanting to be close to Thyme who doesn’t seem as stressed out as she normally is, and now that all the worry about her finally falls off him, Jiang Cheng’s migraine comes back with a vengeance.

He groans softly and closes his eyes, and he must have drifted off because the next thing he knows is that they are back at their house.

“You alright?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng jerks with the question, which causes him to let out a painful groan. “Do you have painkillers at home?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods, even though he doesn’t think he should take any more today.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng whispers as he climbs out of the car, Thyme’s carrier in one hand. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“No problem at all,” he promises him and then leads Jiang Cheng to his door.

“Did you eat today?” Nie Mingjue asks as Jiang Cheng fumbles with the key and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

He was too worried to even think about eating, and with his migraine he doesn’t think he’s about to change that now.

“Let me make something light for you. You have to eat at least a little bit,” Nie Mingjue says, and walks into Jiang Cheng’s apartment before he can protest.

Garlic meets them at the door, clearly anxious to have Thyme with him again and Jiang Cheng is quick to get Thyme out of the carrier.

She’s still limping and Jiang Cheng remembers the pain meds the vet gave him. It’s probably time to give that to her.

It’s a liquid painkiller and getting it into Thyme is easier than Jiang Cheng feared it would be and soon enough she’s limping away from him, clearly eager to hide and rest for a while.

Jiang Cheng watches after her and he can’t help the relieved laugh he lets out because besides some stupidity there’s nothing wrong with his cat.

“Hey, she’s alright,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says from behind him and tugs him around with a hand on his shoulder. “She’s fine.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng sobs out. “She’s just stupid,” he mutters and then he leans forward to rest his forehead on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. “I cannot believe she was diagnosed with stupidity,” he says again, because really.

She’s a cat, for heaven’s sake. How she can sprain her paw while walking is beyond Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng lets out a relieved giggle and he’s aware that the events of the last few hours are all catching up to him now, but he can’t help it.

And Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to mind at all, seeing as he’s currently pressing a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng whispers, but he doesn’t dare to move in fear that Nie Mingjue will stop and never do it again.

“You’re exhausted,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering him. “Come eat something and then go to bed. You need some rest.”

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks as he pulls away from Nie Mingjue and he’s not prepared for the tender look on his face.

“And when you’re feeling better, let me take you out for dinner. On a date.”

Jiang Cheng blushes at that—which really only makes his migraine worse—but he nods.

“I would like that,” he admits and Nie Mingjue cups his face in one hand and presses another kiss to his forehead.

“Good. But now food and rest. Clearly you need both,” he decides and Jiang Cheng allows Nie Mingjue to guide him towards the kitchen, were a simple congee is waiting for him.

He does get drowsy after he ate—not even the migraine enough to keep him up anymore—and he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes up, Nie Mingjue is gone, and Jiang Cheng would chalk it off to a particularly vivid dream, but when he picks up his phone there’s a message waiting for him.

Barring any more cat emergencies, dinner is still on if you want. Call me when you feel better.

Jiang Cheng immediately dials his number, because he does feel very good. Especially about going to dinner with Nie Mingjue.

Yes, believe it or not, my cat got this very diagnosis today. A sprained paw out of pure stupidity. The only difference is that I didn't have a migraine, but also no Nie Mingjue :(

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[amedetoiles]

@suibian-chenqing​ ME TOOOO!!! It is my ultimate endgame in any version of cql/mdzs. Just Lotus Pier in some way, shape, or form being the home where everyone returns to.

So please consider a universe where everyone makes better choices, has healthier conflict resolution skills à la conversations over soup, and lives happily ever after. Hear me out:

We all know that the chaotic Jiang disciples are the unsung heroes of the story, always merrily dragging their grumpy grape sect leader from danger and picking up after his dramatically discarded capes across various parts of the country.

What if after that staged fight while Jiang Cheng angrily copes with brozilla wedding planning (they hear him crying yelling multiple times at all the notebooks full of wedding ideas Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng have jotted down over the years), they decide that this is just not conducive to the happiness of their two favorite Young Masters?

Or equally important, the continuation of their beloved tradition of monthly Lotus Pier lake parties. A Jiang pool party without their resident chaos king and undisputed champion for the highest caliber splash swan dives? This Will Not Stand!

Obviously it is their Duty and their Right as the protectors and purveyors of Jiang culture for a few of them to secretly stow away while Jiang Cheng is having an epic meltdown over fabric.

“800 thread count? Are you out of your goddamn minds? My only sister, and you expect us to throw her a wedding with disgraceful eight hundred thread count fabric?! Do we Jiangs look like barbarians to you?!”

The Jiang disciples go to Yiling, rush up the Burial Mounds, and shout very convincingly, “Da-shixiong! Da-shixiong! Zongzhu, he – he –”

Wei Wuxian, war-torn, living with ten thousand ghosts, and constantly on edge, panics immediately, jumps to the absolute worst conclusion, and doesn’t even clarify before he rushes down the mountain because oh god, oh god, no, not again, didn’t he leave so his siblings would be safe, didn’t he promise to keep Jiang Cheng safe?????

Wen Qing warily agrees to come along because they clearly now have this well-established ongoing unspoken agreement to constantly save each other’s little brothers.

If the Jiang disciples have caught Jiang Cheng brooding over a pretty redwood comb wrapped in a silk handkerchief more than once, then they don’t say anything. Just share silent looks of glee when no one is watching.

By the time they reach Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian has worked himself up into such a state of frenzy that he bursts through the doors of Lotus Pier like a black thundercloud of overprotective fury and worry, screaming, “JIANG CHENG! JIANG CHENG!”

.... Jiang Cheng is sitting on the floor of the Sword Hall, surrounded by a mountain of square fabric samples, with bits of thread stuck in his hair, totally gobsmacked at the sight of his windswept big brother.

Wei Wuxian, still panicked, falls to the floor in front of him, grabs Jiang Cheng by the arms before he can even react, and frantically checks him over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened – I thought –”

Jiang Cheng stares at him. Wei Wuxian blinks. The Jiang disciples have all conveniently disappeared.

Behind them, Wen Qing heaves a big sigh, slow and long through pursed lips. She bows respectfully, says “I will be outside,” and gets the fuck out of there.

There is a tense silence. Wei Wuxian realizes he’s been tricked, but he is so overcome with relief after all that soul-crushing fear that he doesn’t even get mad, just sags forward with his face in Jiang Cheng’s chest as the adrenaline leaves him all at once. He pretends he’s not shaking.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if he wants to shove Wei Wuxian away, hug him back, or wrap him in as many blankets as he can possibly find until a-jie comes home. He does none of those, just demands, half-strangled, half-something-like-worry, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“They said – I thought you were in trouble or – or –”

[long pause] “You – came all the way here shouting like a possessed lunatic because you thought I was in trouble?”

Wei Wuxian hunches a little defensively and starts to move away. “Of course I did.” He makes sure to add, with emphasis, “Idiot.”

It doesn’t matter if Jiang Cheng can’t make up his mind because apparently his hands can, and they grip both of Wei Wuxian’s elbows to keep his brother from pulling away. They stare at one another.

”You said you didn’t want anything to do with the Jiang sect.”

Wei Wuxian looks away, grumbling. “How else was I supposed to keep you and shijie safe? Besides, you’re the one who stabbed me.” He is very pouty about this.

Jiang Cheng, immediately incensed and indignant, shouts, “You broke my arm! I had to be in a cast for a whole month!”

An almost smile flashes over Wei Wuxian’s face. “Hey, it was only your left arm. You were still able to write.”

Jiang Cheng glares at him and shoves his shoulder. Wei Wuxian instinctively shoves him back. They stare. Wei Wuxian scrubs his face tiredly with his hands. Jiang Cheng has to push away the urge to motherhen with blankets again.

He says, “I never asked you to protect me.”

Wei Wuxian gives him a look. “I don’t need to be asked.”

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. “I don’t want you to protect me, idiot.”

Wei Wuxian heaves a very resigned sigh. “Then what do you want?”

Several answers come up, all too serious and too revealing without the support of a-jie’s soup and copious amount of alcohol. So Jiang Cheng just throws a handful of fabric samples at Wei Wuxian’s face. “Help me pick through these until a-jie comes home. You should have fucking heard Jin Zixuan’s suggestions last week. If we let the peacock plan a-jie’s wedding, it’s going to be an absolute disaster.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile this time is real and genuine and lasts the entire afternoon of bickering over fabric squares until Jiang Yanli rushes into the pavilion with many Jiang disciples in tow and hugs both her brothers for the first time in months. They manage to not horribly cry all over each other.

Jiang Yanli insists Wen Qing has dinner with them. There’s plenty of soup after all. Jiang Cheng is awkwardly stiff and doesn’t look Wen Qing in the eye the entire time, and Wei Wuxian pokes him repeatedly with silent  what the hell is wrong with you.

They talk about growing turnips, purifying rice wine, that the scariest thing about Wen Ning is his ability to create a disturbingly large variety of dishes from turnips, and how Wei Wuxian has essentially adopted baby A-Yuan as his own.

Later, Jiang Yanli tells Wen Qing, with a smile, her eyes alight like a flame, that she will take care of it. Wen Qing has no idea what this means. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian share a look as only little brothers with intimate knowledge of their big sister’s stubbornness could and wisely choose to remain silent.

Jiang Yanli enlists the help of both Jin Zixuan and Madam Jin and somehow does indeed take care of it.

Many back door conversations occur between Jiang, Jin, Lan, and Nie sects. Jin Zixuan is the sole Jin representative. Nie Mingjue is initially leery but comes at the behest of Huaisang and Xichen.

At some point, Wen Ning tells Wei Wuxian that if they are going to do this, then it’s best if they have no more secrets. Wei Wuxian glares and tries to pretend that he has no idea what he is talking about, but neither Jiang Yanli nor Jiang Cheng allow Wei Wuxian to run away this time.

There is an emotional golden core reveal, followed by an equally emotional I didn’t go back for their bodies, with lots of shouting, shoving, crying, and clinging. In the aftermath, the Jiang siblings form an even stronger co-dependent unit around each other.

Jiang Yanli coordinates with Lan Xichen (and a begrudgingly cooperative Jiang Cheng) to bring Lan Wangji to Lotus Pier to help Wei Wuxian control his powers. Wangxian are desperately cute, and Jiang Cheng makes pointed gagging sounds whenever he’s around them that leads to several incidents of lake shoving, an excitable gaggle of Jiang disciples swan diving into the water after them, and a very, very confused Lan.

In the end, Wei Wuxian refuses to hand over the Stygian Tiger Seal to any of the sects, but he does agree to destroy it if Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and the remaining Wens are granted clemency and allowed to live freely without persecution. Jiang, Lan, and Nie sects agree.

Jin Guangshan tries to make an uproar, but in a surprising turn of events, Jin Guangyao (grateful for Jiang Yanli’s non-judgmental kindness over the past year) reveals all of his father’s treacherous secrets, including ordering the slaughter of Wen civilians, pardoning and releasing Xue Yang, and purposefully fueling the mob against Wei Wuxian to acquire the seal for himself. Jin Guangshan is shamed, sentenced, and dies imprisoned some months later.

Jin Zixuan formally recognizes his newly renamed brother Jin Ziyao.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian decide that their sister is even scarier than they had believed.

The Wens leave the Burial Mounds and build a small village together in Yiling where they branch into farming non-turnip crops much to the delight of Wei Wuxian. Jiang disciples are dispatched to help with the construction of several buildings, including one extremely beautiful apothecary. Jiang Cheng is seen in Yiling fairly regularly.

Jin Zixun, the most vocal opponent against the pardons for Wei Wuxian and the Wens, tragically falls off a cliff one day. Sect Leader Yao tries to pin it on Wei Wuxian, but Jiang Cheng shuts him down with scathing ferocity.

Someone also puts a Silencing Spell on Sect Leader Yao and keeps it going. Every Lan swears it was not them and thus cannot remove the spell. It lasts for two glorious months. Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji get along disturbingly well from that point on.

Wei Wuxian is there when Jiang Yanli gets married in a magnificent splendor of red and gold. He is there to see Jin Ling born, to watch Jiang Cheng tie a purple bell to their nephew’s robes, and to gift little A-Ling a bracelet on his first month birthday. He is there to watch Jiang Cheng rebuild their sect with unending grit, respect, and loyalty. He is there to see Jin Ling and A-Yuan grow up underneath a sky he helped clear, loved and adored by all the different parts of their family. And some years after he and Lan Wangji are happily married, Wei Wuxian is there when his little brother dons red robes and bows to the heavens, to the earth, and to a woman with a redwood comb in her hair whose life became entwined with theirs so very long ago.

[a-weird-writer]

mmmmmmmmmm mmz related question

how do you think ciel n' copy x relation would have been?

I can't imagine Ciel and Copy X in any sort of relation that isn't remotely negative in their current timeline. But I'm sure I can somehow imagine some way they could both co-exist.

This analysis was written longer than originally expected, a TLDR is located at the very bottom.

Major Spoiler Warning; (Mega Man Zero 1, 3 and Ciel and Copy X's backstory)

Despite being his creator, it seems Ciel kind of disconnected from Copy X in his creation (Though I can't say that with full confidence in its truthfulness in canon, the game probably left them like that for mystery and vagueness). I can guess that, as Copy X begun building his anti-Reploid Regime, any "attachment" he might have felt towards Ciel was ultimately thrown out the window, (To be fair, if my mom created me, said "done" and quickly left without a word, I'd be mad too. Ciel is one of the reasons behind Neo Arcadia's Regime, since she created him, even admitted to it.) more so from Dr. Weil's influence.

In game, the interaction isn't much. When Copy X is resurrected by Dr. Weil, he barely talks to her, and in that one time he wasn't nice. Only appearing to offer "amnesty" in exchange for her system and total surrender. What other opinions we do hear aren't positive, Ciel clearly distrusts him, and Copy X utterly hates her. They are obviously very distant, if they did genuinely converse, I don't doubt Copy X would immediately dispose of her after Ciel finishes monologuing why she is so disappointed in him and has hope for Zero. I doubt further he'd miss her too.

But I digress. Parallel universes exist in Mega Man, so time to experiment! Let's expand our horizons for the sake of creativity, a different world formed from the original. The Dark Elf is still sealed by X, his city doesn't take a turn for the worst from his replacement's rule, resulting in the nonexistence of the Resistance and Zero's contained body remaining undiscovered. Where Copy X isn't an unsympathetic asshole (Dr. Weil disappeared and is invisible, for whatever reason.) and Ciel is, in fact, involved and as motherly to him as with everyone else, their assumed time period is before MMZ 1. Everything is in a sort of alternate "best-case" scenario, there are few struggles, but human and robot equality and peace is upheld.

I'd describe their relation as "tough love", they aren't as personally included as they could be. Although both are busy and involved in far different affairs, an effort is being made. This version of Copy X isn't psychopathic and is far less murderous, but he can still act slightly haughty, nerve-racking and God knows he will never not be stubborn. Which means Ciel steps in as a guide for her creation from time to time, Copy X tries to avoid it in stubbornness; teach him a thing or two about opening up to others, the benefits of equality and consideration of other people and not allowing arrogance to overshadow his judgment.

Arguments don't really happen, no serious ones at least, mostly from how Copy X deals with conflict and moves forward. And it's not as much of arguing as just an in-depth conversation regrading recent decisions. It's a journey, about Copy X's growth as a person and his grasps on fair law and equality between the species. Ciel scolds any unacceptable behavior he may develop, suggesting fair and more humane resolutions, hitting him over the head with that classic "acting like a decent person" spat; he remains open, indeed listens. She is that strict, but overall, kind mother type. During her free time, she tries harmless methods to bond with Copy X in familial ways, researching brand new answers to issues by receiving advice and seeing other peaceful families, trying to inspire Copy X to do the same. Labelled a prodigy at a young age, she deliberates over problems and practices many solutions, a scientist will be a scientist. Ciel does what she can to be an outstanding mother in his eyes, like to Alouette. I can see Copy X soon coming to admire and love his mother in this specific version of MMZ, rarely says it even so.

Truly connecting the definitions of the heart and soul is a hard lesson, since Copy X's superiority complex threatens to evolve and overcome him, understanding and sympathizing with inner emotions is how X managed to rule as long as he did, Copy X wants is to be as perfect as his counterpart was. So, he attempts to understand in the best way he knows; learning and patiently observing, which is exactly how Ciel adapted to educate herself quicker than humanly normal.

TLDR; There are bumps in the road, and it happens in an alternate world, but Ciel and Copy X work it out (By talking like a fucking family.) nonetheless.

[wordsintimeandspace]

All That Haunts Us (1/14)

Jon and Tim have seen their fair share of strange things while working in Research at the Magnus Institute. They still didn’t quite expect to rescue Martin, who has been missing for a year, from a supernatural encounter during one of their investigations. Together, the three of them hunt for answers and try to find a way forward, but they all have things that haunt them.

Meanwhile, Elias sees the perfect opportunity to set his devious plan into motion...

Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2500 words for this chapter. Read on AO3!

Tim plumps down onto the corner of Jon’s desk without much warning. After months of being friends with Tim Jon supposes he should be used to it by now, but he still startles a little, eyes shooting up from the book he’s been engrossed in for who knows how long. Tim sits there with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at him like he’s exactly where he belongs.

“Can I help you?” Jon finally asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I hope so,” Tim says lightly. “But first, I brought lunch.”

He sets a sandwich down in front of Jon. Jon blinks in surprise, and only now notices the rumbling of his stomach and the empty desks around him as everyone else in his shared office has gone out for lunch. “Oh. Sorry, we had planned to meet up, hadn’t we?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind eating here.” Tim takes a bite of his own sandwich, as if to demonstrate. Jon wrinkles his nose as he continues talking, mouth half full. “Reading anything interesting?”

For a second Jon hesitates - out of all the people in the Research Department, Tim might be the only one to agree with him that ‘The Architecture of Cathedrals in the 15th Century’ is actually interesting. But based on the look in his eyes, Jon suspects he has something more pressing to talk about. “Nothing too important,” he finally says, carefully prying the wrapper away from his food. “What did you need help with?”

“I’ve been working on a case.”

Jon looks up from his sandwich - spicy chicken and cucumber, just what he prefers - and frowns. “The one with the cat, right?”

Tim heaves a melodramatic sigh. “Yes, the one with the lady who claims her cat got eaten by, let me quote, ‘a six foot tall monster with too many legs and teeth’. As if that’s the only logical explanation for an outdoor cat to go missing in London. Never mind, oh, I don’t know, cars and foxes and all that.”

Even as he tries to suppress it, Jon can’t quite help the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sound like you had a bit of a week.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I called every vet and the animal shelter if they’ve seen any unusual injuries. And then I’ve knocked on every door in the area that has a cat flap and asked them if their cat has gone missing in the last year, and I scoured every possible missing pet portal on the entire internet.”

“... and? Did you find anything?” Jon asks when Tim doesn’t continue.

Tim throws his hands up, exasperated. “Of course I found something. Do you have any idea how many cats go missing every year in a city like this, entirely due to natural causes?”

Jon nods. “Okay, I get your point. This still doesn’t answer the question of what you need help with though.”

“Look, I just thought... if there is a monster like that - and I’m not saying there is - it’s big enough to harm more than cats, right? So I looked for missing dogs as well. And then, while I was on a roll and because I was terribly bored, I looked for missing persons.”

At that, Jon raises an eyebrow. He knows Tim is an excellent researcher, thorough in everything he does, but that seems to go even beyond his usual rigour. “You can’t possibly tell me you found an account of a person being eaten by a monster like that. Surely we would have heard of it by now.”

“No, ‘course not.” Tim rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his sandwich before he continues. “This has nothing to do with that. But what I did find was a missing person’s report from about a year ago, and several accounts from the last few months that the building where he used to live is haunted.”

Jon stills, looking at Tim with a frown. “That rather sounds like someone is making a crude joke.”

“At first I thought so too,” Tim says. “But the reports on the hauntings didn’t mention that a person went missing there. And the guy’s address isn’t even public. They couldn’t have known. I had Sasha dig that up for me, along with other details on the case. You know Sasha, right?”

Jon nods - he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to her, but even he can’t escape the Institute gossip when someone transfers from Artifact Storage to another department. And he’s seen her around Research by now, in the last few weeks. “I- yes. But… what kind of ‘haunting’ are we talking about here?”

Tim shrugs. “There seems to be a bunch of evidence. Recordings of hushed voices and weird noises, something like rustling? Blurry figures in the shadows. Cold spots.”

“I’m not sure I would count that as evidence.”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Don’t be such a sceptic.”

Jon frowns. “It is our job to be sceptical.”

“Yeah, sure, but you have to admit it’s a weird coincidence, right? That this building where one person disappeared is supposedly haunted since then?”

Jon bites his lip. He trusts Tim’s instincts. And he can’t deny that there’s something off about this whole thing, even if he can’t put his finger on it. It happens sometimes, that a case just feels… wrong, he supposes. That it comes with a prickle of unease and a shiver down his spine, in a way that is too familiar to ignore. He wonders if Tim feels it as well, or if he just - for some unfathomable reason - wants to get out of interviewing even more cat owners.

“What do you want to do about this, then?” he finally asks, and Tim’s face immediately brightens.

“I want to go view the flat. There’s a rent advertisement online. Perfect opportunity for a bit of snooping.”

“Okay. And you need me for… what, exactly?”

At this Tim smiles - a bit mischievous, which is his usual expression, but also a bit bashful, which is a rare sight for someone as self-assured as Tim. Jon can’t help but feel a bit nervous about that, and reaches for his long cold mug of tea.

“I need you to pose as my boyfriend,” Tim says calmly, and Jon promptly chokes as he takes a sip.

“What?” he finally manages to get out as soon as he can breathe again. His cheeks are burning, but Tim just gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

“You heard me. Come on, help me out there buddy.”

“But… why?”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Look, I first tried to be honest, but when I called the landlord and mentioned the Magnus Institute he swore at me and hung up. The rent advertisement is just the backup plan. I need you to be with me and take over the speaking to make sure he doesn’t recognize me.”

For a moment, Jon can only stare at him. “I still don’t understand why I’d have to be your boyfriend. Can’t I be your flatmate?”

“It’s a one bedroom apartment. He’s not going to believe we’re flatmates.”

“What about Sasha? Can’t you ask her?” Jon asks, a bit helplessly.

Tim gives him a long look. “Jon, I’m trying very hard not to be offended that you really don’t want to fake date me, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I- I’m not-” Jon splutters before heaving a sigh. “I- fine. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tim cheers, even as Jon glowers at him. “Oh, this is fantastic,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Can I call you a pet name?”

Heat rises in Jon’s cheeks. He tries his best to glare even as his stomach swoops at the idea, for reasons he resolutely does not want to examine. “Absolutely not.”

“Hold your hand?”

“No.”

Tim lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re no fun.”

“This is supposed to be work, not fun.”

“I can multitask and do both at once, Jon.”

Suppressing a groan, Jon rolls his eyes at him, and decides to just move on. “When do you want to do this?”

“Okay, so, I need you to call to set up an appointment. We can-”

Abruptly, Tim stops. He goes still, the excited grin slipping off his lips. He’s not looking at Jon anymore, his eyes instead fixed on something behind him.

Jon whirls around in his chair, and startles when his gaze falls on Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute, standing in the doorway to his office. As usual, he is wearing an impeccable grey suit and a smile that never quite matches the piercing look in his eyes. Somehow, there’s always something unnerving about him, although Jon can’t put his finger on it.

“Um. Hello, Mr. Bouchard,” he starts slowly.

Elias’ smile widens just a little bit. “Jonathan. I’ve told you before, call me Elias,” he says smoothly. “And Timothy. Just the man I wanted to speak to.”

Tim winces and sits up a little straighter. “Of course. What can I help you with?”

Elias fixes Tim with a long stare that makes Jon squirm in his seat. “I had a rather unpleasant call with one Mr. Abbott earlier,” Elias finally says, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He complained that someone from the Magnus Institute asked to see one of his rental properties to investigate a case.”

“I’m just doing some regular follow-up, Sir,” Tim says, a bit defensively. Jon finally looks away from Elias towards Tim, and watches the crease between his brows deepen as Elias continues.

“Of course. I’m sure you were perfectly polite, Timothy. Mr. Abbott, however, was quite clear that he believes an investigation like this will hurt his carefully crafted image. And I just couldn’t help but wonder why you were contacting him when you were supposed to work on the… what was it, the case of Mrs. Mitchell, I believe? Regarding the disappearance of her cat?”

“Err. Yes, I-”

“Are the cases connected?” Elias asks, a sudden sharpness in his voice that makes Jon flinch. Tim’s mouth twists, as if he’s trying hard to suppress a grimace.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Tim says hesitantly. “I just thought-”

“In that case, I would advise you to focus on the work you were assigned, Mr. Stoker.” The tone in Elias’ voice makes it very clear that he won’t accept any objections. Nevertheless, the smile on his lips doesn’t falter. “We wouldn’t want to get any more complaints, would we?”

“I-” Tim stops himself, letting out a sigh. “Of course, Sir.”

“Since it seems you might have gotten bored with the Mitchell case, I’m sure you have already conducted all necessary research and can deliver the report to my desk by this evening. Or am I mistaken?”

Tim’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t protest. “Sure,” he grumbles.

“Excellent,” Elias says, the sudden sharpness in his voice gone as quickly as it came. He gives them both a short nod. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

With that, Elias turns on his heels and walks away. He’s out of sight as soon as he turns a corner down the corridor, but still, Jon can’t help but stare after him. Beside him, Tim lets out a pitiful groan.

“This evening?” Tim buries his face in his hands. “I had until next week to do the report. I haven’t even started it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says with a wince. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah. Don’t think so. But thank you.” Tim looks up with a small smile and stands, wrapping up the remains of his sandwich. “I’ll best get back to work if I want to have this done by five.”

Jon lets out a small hum, but he’s still distracted by what just happened. Again, he stares down the corridor, as if Elias might reappear any second. He can’t shake the feeling of his eyes on him.

“Are you alright?” Tim asks. Jon startles a little and looks back at him. Tim is watching him with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yes,” Jon says hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just… that was strange, wasn’t it?”

Tim shrugs. “Yeah. But everything about Bouchard is strange.”

“I suppose. But this was...” Jon hesitates. This was more than strange, he wants to say. This feels like Elias doesn’t want us to investigate whatever is going on in that haunted flat. But that’s a silly thought, isn’t it? Jon shakes his head. “Nevermind. Good luck with the report.”

Tim gives him a pained smile. “Thanks,” he says miserably, and finally shuffles back towards his office.

That afternoon, as much as Jon tries to go back to his book, he can’t quite stop thinking. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, in a way that makes him jittery and anxious and makes it impossible to focus on the words in front of him. He stays late to make up for it, and when he finally calls it a day, the other researchers that share his office have already left. Jon puts on his coat and grabs his bag, and goes to check on Tim.

The door to Tim’s office is still open, although all the desks are currently unoccupied. Tim’s desk is a bit of a mess, filled with piled up papers and books and too many empty cups of tea. With their earlier conversation about the case still on the forefront of his mind, Jon gives in to the temptation to step closer and skim through the texts scattered on the desk.

It doesn’t take long until his gaze falls onto what looks like the copy of a police report. Carefully, he pulls the paper out from underneath a book. It’s undoubtedly the missing person’s report Tim has mentioned. The address fits to the area of the case he was working on. Jon starts reading, and immediately stills.

It hits him suddenly that Tim had never mentioned the name of the missing person. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that there are actual people behind the cases they’re researching. But there’s the name, right next to a photograph.

In the photo, Martin Blackwood is looking directly at the camera, a small smile on his lips. Jon takes a moment to take him in - the pudgy cheeks covered in freckles, the sad eyes, the light brown hair falling in soft curls around his face. An actual person, with a life and friends and family who must wonder what has happened to him after he disappeared a year ago. Who maybe still have hope that one day, he will come back.

So far, Jon was only a little irritated that Elias intervened in their investigation. Now, he’s suddenly furious.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Jon pulls out his phone and takes a photograph of the report. He places it back on Tim’s desk and leaves.

As he walks to the tube station, he pulls up the address on his phone. He takes the train that goes in the opposite direction of where he lives, changes trains twice, and finally, half an hour later, steps out into the chill September air. By now, it’s already getting dark. Jon pulls up the collar of his coat to protect himself against the cold, and begins to walk towards the haunted flat where Martin Blackwood disappeared.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

White Collar ot3 number 14, 18 and/or 29 for the ship asks because you just reminded me how much I adore them today. Thank you and happy birthday!!

I cut this bad boy for length because I sure can go on about these three. That first one is basically a whole fic. Thank you, my birthday was great!

14) When one has a cold, what does the other do?

This feels like a great opportunity to talk about one of my favorite things to think about with this OT3, which is The First Time Neal Gets Sick, AKA The Time Peter And Elizabeth Almost Had A Heart Attack.

The thing is, they expect dramatics. Neal is someone who leans on dramatics as 70% of his social charms, and if you'd held a hot brand to Peter's skin while he was chasing Neal over half the godforsaken country, back in the day, he'd have said that Neal would be the type to wring every minor illness for all it was worth. Not, like, out of any particular irritation for that particular behavior--Elizabeth is the kind of person who gets dramatically sick even if all she has is a cold, and if he's being perfectly honest Peter kind of enjoys babying his wife for a few days--but just because. Well. All Neal ever does is make sure all eyes are on him, seeing exactly what he wants, doing exactly what he needs. It's the con he's best at, Neal's favorite magic trick: sweep everyone up in the delirium of those blue eyes and that shattering smile and take everything they've got in their distraction.

So anyway, then Neal doesn't show up to work. He's an hour late. Two hours late. By the third hour, Peter is silently doing the math for how far Neal could get on his anklet without setting it off, and then for any loopholes he might have missed--faking the signal somehow? Neal's passable but not phenomenal with computers, but could he have hired someone? Peter's never heard of someone pulling that off, but Neal's got an aura about him, that makes the impossible seem merely improbable.

It is very important that this be an issue of Neal trying to run, because if it's not, then something might have happened to him. Neal hasn't exactly been endearing himself to the criminal underworld lately.

At three hours and forty-nine minutes past Neal's appointed arrival time, Peter takes an early lunch break and goes to June's. He knocks on Neal's door for a few minutes, and then goes and politely 'acquires' the spare key from the staff and lets himself in.

Neal is asleep on the couch, buried in every blanket he could find in his apartment, and he blinks hazily at Peter for a second when Peter shakes him and then bolts upright so fast that Peter has to move or get concussed.

"Peter," Neal says in a good approximation of his usual good humor. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't show up to work," Peter says, reaching out toward Neal's forehead automatically. Neal dodges him and Peter sees the dizzy wave cross his face. "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine," Neal says, and then immediately starts coughing, a wet sharp cough that hurts to listen to. "Sorry I'm late, I--fuck, is it past noon? Okay, just--give me a second, I can get ready to go--"

"How long have you been sick, Neal?"

It takes Peter the better part of fifty minutes to wring the facts out of Neal, and he does not like the facts, thanks. He more or less forces Neal back into the blanket nest on the couch and calls El, apologizes for interrupting one of her rare days off and asks her to bring Neal literally anything, and shuts down Neal's fourth attempt to convince Peter that he's fine.

Neal seems...really bothered by the idea that Peter knows he's sick, let alone Elizabeth, and Peter doesn't like what that implies. About anything. At least it doesn't seem personal--Neal doesn't seem to want anyone to know that he's sick, so much so that he's been taking double doses of DayQuil and drinking straight espresso in order to smother all his symptoms at work for the past three days. Peter does some quick math in his head about the number of DayQuil that would require and says "You're lucky you're not in the ER," and Neal says, "I know what I'm doing, Peter," in that voice that means he's thinking about getting offended.

"You're going to give yourself liver failure, is what you're doing. Why didn't you just call out sick, Neal, Jesus Christ." It's blunter than he meant to be--actually, Peter meant to let El work on Neal for a few hours before he came back to play Blunt Cop--but Neal looks awful and he has a fever and he's been taking ten DayQuil in a ten hour work day and Peter does actually read labels and Peter made him stay late at work two days ago because Peter didn't know he was sick.

And maybe it's because Neal's sick, maybe it's because the fever is blurring his reaction time, maybe Peter just knows him really well by this point, but he sees the second that Neal's face closes up and he goes from "defensive" to "ready to do whatever he needs to do in order to get Peter to back down".

And then Neal smiles, all guileless blue eyes and blithe schoolboy innocence, and he says, "Come on, Peter, you'd have thought I was trying to run."

It stings inordinately. Peter did think that, this morning, but only because Neal fucking vanished, didn't come in, didn't answer his phone, didn't even leave a message with someone when Peter showed up. If Neal had said he was sick, Peter might have come by to check on him--and sure, seeing that he was really sick would have put those concerns to bed, but--

"Besides," Neal is continuing, and his voice is starting to show the effect of the coughing now, and he's trying to get up again, wavering on his feet a little before he blinks twice and visibly forces himself to steady. "I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, it's what, seven hundred dollars a month? That's not covering a doctor, and it's not like I have pneumonia. It's just a cold, Uncle Sam, I can still go to work."

And then Neal gives Peter the slip while Peter's still sitting there, stinging.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know if Neal really thinks that of him, or if Neal just knew it would make him shut up long enough for Neal to walk into his bathroom and take more fucking DayQuil.

Well, fine, then. Peter can fight dirty too, and to prove it, he walks the ten feet to the door and leans back against it, just out of an excess of caution, as he pulls out his phone. First he texts his wife, because she's a very smart woman and deserves to have all the information. Second, he calls his boss, because he's already well outside his lunch break and he might as well do the thing properly. Neal comes out of the bathroom, wearing fresh slacks and an unbuttoned white shirt, just as Peter says, "Yes, sir, I'll keep an eye on him."

Then Peter hangs up and points his phone at Neal and says, "Lie the hell back down before I taze you. You're off until next week, and I'm taking the day off to make sure you don't go into organ failure. Don't you dare," he adds when Neal takes a purposeful step toward the kitchenette and its coffee maker. "El is going to be here with actual cold medicine in thirty minutes. Take those slacks off and lie down in your actual bed."

"I'm fine," Neal says again, as if he's not struggling with a shirt button for the first time since Peter's met him, including multiple occasions of being handcuffed.

"You're really not," Peter says, and then he pauses for a moment, and looks at the way Neal's fingers pause on the button, and then he says, a little cautiously, "And that's fine. Everyone gets sick, Neal."

"I don't need you to babysit me," Neal mutters.

"I'm only babysitting you because, apparently, you take life-ending doses of caffeine and cold medicine when you're left alone. Come on, Neal, this won't be the end of the world, El will bring you some food that won't hurt your throat and I'll let you make me watch one of your boring foreign films."

"I know your secrets," Neal says, and then pauses to cough up what's probably part of his failing liver, not that Peter is feeling any doom and gloom about this whole thing. "You watch romcoms with Elizabeth, she told me you enjoy things other than football and you'll never fool me again."

"Yeah, you got me," Peter says with a faint grin. He walks away from the door like he's approaching a feral dog, and closes his hands gently but inexorably around Neal's wrists, and then steers him firmly back onto the couch. Neal's skin is hot even through his shirt, and he trips twice, and he lets Peter push him down into the blankets like he's too tired to do anything else. "I'm going to go get you pajamas. Where do you keep them?"

"Second drawer," Neal says dismally.

"Okay," Peter says, and doesn't give into his impulse to maybe, like, brush Neal's rumpled curls out of his face or something. Half the reason that Peter caught him in the first place is because Peter knows when to press his advantage. He takes the win and gets Neal some pajamas.

18) When they fight, how do they make up?

Elizabeth is the best at this, because she works with vendors all the time and that makes her a literal professional at conflict resolution.  She has a temper and she’ll lose her cool with the best of them, but she knows how to say “I need a minute” and then she’ll leave and come back when she can be reasonable.  She’ll lay out what she’s upset about, hear the other person out, and then either apologize or expect an apology.  Then she’s the physical touch kind of person after a fight--she’ll take Peter’s hands and link their fingers together, or wrap her arms around Neal from behind with her cheek between his shoulder blades, and just kind of...rest against them until everyone’s tension starts to bleed out of them.

Peter isn’t an innately high-empathy person and he knows this, so it’s sometimes hard for him to figure out when a fight even started, let alone how to fix it.  He gets frustrated with himself for not knowing what to do, and then it’s easy for Elizabeth or Neal to feel like he’s mad at them for being mad at him, and then everyone gets madder and it’s just stressful.  So Peter’s the type to ask explicitly “wait, are we fighting” because, first of all, he would like to know so he can figure out how to resolve it, and, second of all, he’s discovered that being clear about it will sometimes shock everyone involved into taking a step back and figuring out if they’re arguing at all or if they’re both just frustrated.  After they’ve managed to figure out what’s wrong and talked it out, Peter’s an acts of service kind of person after a fight--his specific brand is to make someone’s favorite meal, regardless of who was doing the apologizing.  

Neal is...not good at conflict.  For obvious reasons, he’s inclined toward avoiding conflict when he can, and bailing immediately afterward when he can’t.  The first time he actually fought with Elizabeth, she had to come to his apartment and hammer on his door until he let her in.  Neal’s never really been able to argue with someone and then have them still be there except for maybe Mozzie, and it’s an extremely rough adjustment for everyone.  It requires a lot of patience from Elizabeth and Peter, and a lot of anxiety from Neal, for them to find a balance about it.  But Neal is a gifts person after an argument, once he learns to be anything after an argument, and not just extravagant things.  He brings flowers or Elizabeth’s favorite mixers or one of the boring patterned ties that Peter loves, he brings a paperweight or a mug, a hair pin, a new set of dress shoe laces, a pair of beautiful earrings, a six-pack of beer, whatever hoves into his field of vision and he can afford to acquire.

29) Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

One time when he got home from work, Peter caught Neal and Elizabeth waltzing in the kitchen while the radio played the Top 40 Hits station, and they were giggling while they tried to keep time to Umbrella, and Neal was complaining about El not letting him play classical while she was cooking, and Neal dipped El so that she could wink at Peter upside down, and they burned dinner because they left the stove on and the three of them got takeout ramen instead.

Peter thinks about that evening sometimes when he’s stuck in traffic.

[tundrainafrica]

So I see your a LeviHan shipper!! I enjoy the ship a lot too!! But are there any specific reason that their your favorite?? Maybe you could explain that a little through a list? But anyways I hope your week has been good so far, Sav. Have a good day/night!!!! - Signed by Your Secret Santa 🎄

Hello! Thank you for asking about my week (and my ship). 

I enjoy the ship a lot too!! But are there any specific reason that their your favorite? 

To answer that first question...

You’re in for a long rollercoaster ride of a rant because I don’t think I’m the type of person to ship anything to the point of writing domestic fluff fics unless the I felt really really drawn to the ship. 

Anyway, (slight) spoilers abound! Will keep manga spoilers subtle, mostly Levihan scenes.

Disclaimer: I do not want to start shipping wars. I specifically avoided the words like should or best because I recognize that shipping is generally based on preferences. I respect everyone’s preferences on what they want out of a ship or even a relationship and through this, I just hope to express my own preferences and maybe even gush with people who agree.

1. The ship did not move the plot. The plot moved the ship.

Attack on Titan is not a romance or a shojo, if it’s not fairly obvious from any chapter you would randomly read. As a reader, I would have expected it to fall short with pairings. Most shows which are not romance based tend to have a few pairings which just suddenly end up together towards the end of the manga because “What’s a happy ending without marriage and kids?” There is usually a trend of just pairing of the extras and sometimes, or maybe even more often than not, it just seems to come out of nowhere (ehem... Naruto.). Maybe the relationship worked off screen but I dunno. Like no shipping war here but the only pairing I had full support for was Shikatema. 

In stories classified as romances, there is enough of a spotlight on the sexual tension and mutual pining of specific characters for the romance to be considered reasonable. In my opinion, some authors tend to sacrifice really good world building for a good romance. Objectively twilight for example had some crazy good world building but it just kinda focused a little too much on emo Bella and emo Edward for the world building to actually be appreciated by the casual reader. Tbh though, this is not necessarily bad because people get into stuff for reasons, sometimes, I just wanna read a good fantasy, sometimes I just wanna read a good romance.

Romances though as a main driving point for narratives, require some convenient serendipity moments and sexual tension which can be written well but as a reader, I prefer to see more natural relationships born out of necessity (Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata is a good example of what I’m talking about in a romance novel.)

Attack on Titan through its narrative actually made Levihan seem VERY VERY possible. If I had to compare the presentation of this ship in canon to at least one relationship in other anime, I would compare it to Royai from FMA. 

Like, if Attack on Titan didn’t give us random subtle hints about romantic or just platonic relationships between the two or even about anyone, even if Levi and Hange did get together in the end, it would have been one of the pairings, I probably wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow at. 

But they could be just friends? Which brings me to my next point.

2. Their current situation makes it so it’s only natural that at the least, they considered it. 

Yes. Friends is a valid interpretation for anything. I mean, given our hook up culture, people can fuck as friends too. People probably have made out drunk as friends too. Like I have seen my fair share of this type of bullshit in high school and college and I would say, we do not need a kiss or a fucking session to recognize that something can be a good relationship or to recognize that they have probably thought about it. 

A relationship requires a commitment (conscious or unconscious) to caring for the other, keeping the other safe, recognizing their flaws and thinking about them regularly (Call me scott peck or marriage counselor but like I honestly think the world would be a better place once people recognize that quality romantic relationships are worked for).

Mind you, Levi and Hange lost everything.They literally lost everything from their old life, all their friends, all their loved ones and all they have is each other and they’re forced to take care of a bunch of kids.

There are people who have said before, no one gets very close with someone without ever considering a romantic relationship with them. Or even if they never considered it romantic, they could consider at least “living with them their whole life,” or “supporting them through thick and thin.” The things is, towards the end, they were constantly together and what drove them to that situation is that both of them are aware of what the other had lost. They understood each other more than anyone else and they recognized that they were the only ones left in their own circle and I personally think that is more than enough for a relationship to naturally bloom between them.

3. The relationship and the signs are subtle and it works.

I personally probably would not have enjoyed it if canon showed a romantic relationship of the two after Erwin died. It’s a valid interpretation to consider that it could have happened, based on my explanation for number 2 but Hange is commander, Levi is captain. They have a professional relationship and they have goals and obligations which take precedence over personal desires. They are in the middle of a war and the most which probably could have happened was a secret mutual pining between the two and I think Isayama has injected the most subtle hints which are the most that could have been appropriately put into canon without seeming too OOC. Hange and Levi are not selfish people. They have promises, dreams and obligations which they respect and have committed themselves to already. It has also been shown at earlier points of the manga that they do put their survey corps duties on top of everything so acting on a romantic attraction at that point in time would have definitely been inappropriate. 

I personally think, the scenes of Hange going out of her way to save Levi as commander, killing her other soldiers to save both their asses, suggesting in the forest that they live together instead of go back to the war and not leaving an injured Levi until she had no choice were more powerful than a lot of romantic scenes where people actually fuck and kiss. Kissing and fucking are easy. Leaving the duties and responsibilities they have worked for for five years to keep the person they love alive hits way harder. 

Call it platonic. Call it romantic. But no one like Hange would have deserted her post as commander for a few chapters to take care of a sick comrade and kill her subordinates to save their asses if there wasn’t anything between them. 

4. It gives a great example what healthy relationships can come from. 

I grew up reading sweet valley and chick lits cause I was a basic bitch and I kinda grew up with a somehow unrealistic idea of where relationships come from. Call me a late bloomer but I only actually figured out where the romance and the happiness of a relationship was when I got into one with my best friend for five years. 

It’s the sexual tension and the “will they wont they?” push and pull which can lead to satisfying sex or a happy ending in romance novels. I think in a way, media kinda overglorifies it which kinda gives a lot of young people the wrong idea about why they getting into a relationship is fun in the first place.  Because after the satisfying sex and the kids, what’s next for the relationship?

Years of utility bills, diapers, chores, schedules, parent teacher conferences and compromises until someone gives up or dies. And what kind of relationships can actually thrive through all these? 

Those that have mastered the underrated parts of relationships. These include conflict resolutions, compromises and open communication. I think we have seen enough of those two, even before season 3 that have shown that they know each other very well and they have shown to at least have a relatively equal power dynamic which is a foundation for open communication and mutual trust in relationships even beyond the fucking and marriage stage 

5. They have a great foundation of character development for both parties.

As I mentioned above, they have a relatively equal power dynamic. I love Royai from FMA and I have compared Royai to this multiple times. I would say though I prefer Levihan over Royai because I felt that Royai had more unequal power dynamics? (Though I still think Royai is a top tier ship ). Also, they have shown to tell off the other when they don’t like what the other is doing. They are complete opposites but here is the magical thing. They talk everything out. They’re generally open people to each other and they know each other way too well as hinted in scenes before and opposites work as long as the others are willing to compromise. I think (especially in season 3 and season 4) that they have done enough for each other and have compromised enough for each other in the survey corps that these skills could easily be brought with them even after the war.

That open communication is just what makes them maintaining a relationship while being complete opposites very OC and realistic. Eventually, they did probably did make compromises, which most likely softened or moderated the crazy parts of their personalities which is just a really fun part of their relationship to explore. 

6. It could realistically last so maybe ...

7. A good foundation for happy children?

Maybe it’s how it is written because of the actual story and why would Yams write a romantic drama in a story about genocide and war. Tbh, I would attribute it more to Levi and Hange’s personalities though because Mikasa and Eren have their fair share of drama, mostly one sided though coz Mikasa. This relationship has no drama, no misunderstandings which just further supports my point that they have a relationship that thrives on open communication and mutual trust. Drama is fun like when we’re the ones on the sidelines eating the popcorn but I have third wheeled enough people in my life to realize that I will not support a relationship where both parties are just not ready to be mature about it, in real life and in fiction. 

My favorite couples, in real life and in fiction, are definitely those who keep conflict among themselves and maybe among trusted people. I think one sign of a healthy relationship is one where problems don’t become public through social media or through like 20 people. One important yet underrated part of relationships is the atmosphere of comfort and freedom which encourages both parties to be able to directly approach one another before tensions and uncertainties get out of hand.  

And a life free of dramas at least in the early stages of life just kinda shows at least that both parties are ready to bring a new life to the world? Because like immature parents with shitty conflict resolution skills really fuck kids up man and I passionately believe the world would really be a better place if babies were born out of trust, mutual understanding and open communication instead of sex but yeah, make sex fun to keep our race alive.

So anyway, I guess, I just finished explaining why I love this ship so much while also disclosing my preferences for relationships. 

As mentioned above...

Disclaimer: I do not want to start shipping wars. I specifically avoided the words like should or best because I recognize that shipping is generally based on preferences. I respect everyone’s preferences on what they want out of a ship or even a relationship and through this, I just hope to express my own preferences and maybe even gush with people who agree.

Other pairings which I support for those curious: Shikatema, Royai, Victuuri, Percabeth etc.

Also... To answer your second question... 

My week has been great, some pretty solid life developments but US elections wise, not so great... (WHY IS THE ELECTION RACE SO CLOSE?)

[crispyjenkins]

Chosen-One!Obi-Wan x Jango where Jaster finds Obi-Wan after he’s lost(somehow lmfao,, idk maybe connecting ships like a connecting flight?) on his was to bandomeer and adopted by a haat’mando’ade advisor of Jasters?

(this would have been out on monday except i rewrote it twice T◡T this is by far the best version i already have a few haat mando’ade Obis so i gave this one a twist (ゝω·) thank you for the prompt, anon! i started planning this one as soon as it came in, i’m so happy to finally be able to get to it (ノ*´◡`) i hope you like it!  i am now inordinately attached to the idea of a wookiee raising obi, and wanted to do so much more with chalmun but it did not work out by rewrite three. someday, friend (๑o﹏o๑)

  When Obi-Wan meets the Mand’alor on Bandomeer, wearing his failures like funeral garb, Jaster calls him Haar Gaanla. The Chosen.

  Obi-Wan never makes it to the Agricorp outpost, he doesn’t even make it out of the spaceport; the moment he steps off the transport from the Temple, the Force all but takes over his feet, humming in happiness as it leads Obi-Wan further and further into the port, until it pulls him to a stop in front of a Nova Courier starship.

  A Mandalorian without a helmet turns around from stocking his cargo hold, and knows from one look that there’s something not quite right about Obi-Wan, that the way the opalescent Force ripples around him is not the way it surrounds others. 

  “Haar Gaanla,” the man says, as the Force whispers Mand’alor, as Obi-Wan says,

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Jaster lets him sleep in his bunk the whole way to Concord Dawn.

-

  When Obi-Wan meets the Journeyman Protector Chalmun, the Wookiee stepping out of his terracotta dugout home on a farmstead that looks like it’s drowning in blooming behot, he calls Obi-Wan Haar Gaanla. The Chosen.

  Obi-Wan smiles around his missing tooth, and calls him buir.

-

  The prophecy of The Chosen One is not specific to the Jedi, Chalmun has heard it all over the galaxy from as many peoples as he has bowcasters — which is to say, a lot. Mandalore has had their own prophecy from as far back as the Taung, and Obi-Wan doesn’t know what that means for him, somehow raised a Jedi first, but Mando’ad now.

  His first night as Chalmun’s foundling, he tells Obi-Wan the story of the Wookiee warrior that carried her people into the trees and showed them the sky, before giving them her bones to build the first treehouse. Her name, Otwiyaddirm, came to mean freedom, choice, and has a variation in all Wookiee tongues. 

  Chalmun tells him more stories like that while he teaches him how to farm and how to grow, how to care for the behot leaves that are their main income, but also the root vegetables planted at the bushes’ base. Master Tyvokka spoke Shyriiwook when Obi-Wan was in the Temple, but Obi-Wan’s crèchemaster was one of his apprentices, and she taught their whole clan Xaczik instead, partly just to piss her old master off.

  Obi-Wan knows the Force likes to mess with him, lead him to believe one thing before spinning him 540º to another answer entirely, so he knows there is very little in his life that the Force does not have a hand in; that Chalmun speaks Xaczik rather than the far more common Shyriiwook? Well, it’s not as if Obi-Wan is surprised.

  Before Jaster, Obi-Wan had only interacted with one Force user that was not a Jedi, a Zebraki woman that had come to study the architecture of the Coruscant Temple. Obi-Wan had snuck out of bed and was on the run from Master Oraruu when the Zabrak had found him and crouched in front of him — she called him Uifri with a sort of fond awe, and walked him back to the crèche with an impossibly gentle hand in his. Knight Kolar told him later that the closest word in Basic is Chosen.

  Master Plo had called him ‘a lantern in the Force’ when he first brought Obi-Wan to the temple, and the description stuck far into his initiate days. Quinlan would tease him about it, saying he ran a few degrees hotter than other humans, because to Quinlan, he was warmth more than light.

  So Obi-Wan isn’t unused to epithets and comparisons and whispered names in languages he doesn't speak, but he doesn’t know what to do with himself when his new buir starts to affectionately call him Otwiyaddirm, just as often as he calls him cub.

  It certainly confuses Jaster’s foundling the first few times the Mand’alor checks in on Obi-Wan and brings Jango along, who despite being a few years older than Obi-Wan and Haat Mando’ad to boot, can’t pronounce Obi-Wan’s Xaczik name and instead just calls him Nau’ika. Little Light. 

  Even after Jango learns Obi-Wan has a name in Basic, the nickname stays, because though his midichlorian count is lower than even Jaster’s, Jango can still see his light in the Force. Mando’a doesn’t have a word for the sorts of open-flame lanterns Master Plo had referred to, but Jaster says he thinks Nau’ika suits them just fine. 

-

  “Can you feel it?”

  Jango looks up from the stone wash basin outside by the greenhouse, where Jaster had assigned the two of them to wash tubers for thirdmeal, but he finds Obi-Wan resolutely focussed on the blue tuber he’s scrubbing. He’s rolled the sleeves of his red linen shirt up past his elbows, arms toned from working the farmstead, and Jango has half a mind to be amused by Montross’ insistence that Journeyman Protectors and their clans simply can’t compete with Supercommandos — Montross has obviously never seen the size of the sacks of behot leaves Obi-Wan and Chalmun regularly sling from the barn to their speeder.

  “Feel what?” Jango asks, while Obi-Wan works at a particularly stubborn spot of dirt with his reed scrubber. 

  Obi-Wan doesn’t answer immediately, but his expression is relaxed and thoughtful, so Jango doesn’t press, just waits quietly at his side. He had grown in leaps and bounds under Chalmun’s careful rearing, strong and smart and kind, and he looks almost nothing like the tiny Jedi imp that Jango had met six years before. 

  His hair is redder now, baked under Concord Dawn’s blue sun until it’s almost copper in the summers. Farmer-tanned skin is spattered with freckles and blemishes where he had been pale as a wampa in a snowdrift when Chalmun had first taken him in; Arla had been like that, too, and something in Jango aches.

  “Me.”

  Jango blinks, quickly returning to his own scrubbing when he realises he had been staring. “You? Oh, you mean the light thing?” Obi-Wan nods once. “Of course I can, everyone above Force-null can.”

  His relaxed expression tightens, lips pressed thin as the water in the basin moves preternaturally. “Everyone keeps saying that,” he says softly, “even the other Sensies here think I’m special.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Obi-Wan shrugs, pushing his hair out of his face with the back of his wrist; it still leaves water running down his forehead, and Jango’s brain short circuits, just a little. “I don’t know. The Jedi certainly didn’t think so.”

  “And we’re supposed to care what those shabuire think?” Jango scoffs. “They must be even better at sticking their heads in the ground than I thought, if even the children couldn’t feel you.”

  “Wouldn’t they have wanted me if they did?”

  Ah, well, perhaps Jango should have expected this.

  He can count the number of times Obi-Wan has talked about his time in the Temple on one hand, despite Jaster checking in on him every few months for the last six years. He’s said that his destiny was not with the Jedi in this iteration of the universe, that he knows the Force had not led him astray, and Jango knows he’s genuinely happy here with Chalmun and the Mando’ade, but he also understands that line of thought.

  “Would you go back to them if they asked?”

  Obi-Wan finally looks at him, wide-eyed. “What? Of course not.”

  “Then does it matter knowing what they thought back then, when you don’t care what they think now?” Jango takes the tuber from Obi-Wan’s hand and drops it in the drying basket with the rest, before pulling the stone stopper from the bottom of the basin to drain the water into a pipe that would take it to the reprocessing tank to be reused in watering the fields. “I’m Haat’ad, Nau’ika: I know droidshit about the Force and Force users, and even less about this prophecy nonsense our buire seem to think is important.” He hefts the basket onto his hip and waits for Obi-Wan to hang the scrubbers over the side of the basin to lead them back to the dugout house; he kicks open the door and holds it with his foot for Obi-Wan to duck past him. “I just know you don’t feel like anything else in the galaxy, that people will always want to take advantage of that power, and that you are far safer all the way out here than in the Core.”

  Their conversation falls off as they remove their shoes to join Jaster and Chalmun in the kitchen, and though Obi-Wan doesn’t bring it up again that night –or any time after– Jango knows he thinks about it still.

-

  When Jango’s starcruiser drops out of the sky over Concord Dawn, crashing into the behot fields and cutting a furrow of flying dirt and flowers right across the farmstead, Obi-Wan is already calling on the Force, oily-black and opalescent and warm, to drag Jango from the wreckage. Obi-Wan wraps it heavy around the both of them, as he kneels in bloody, screaming mud with Jango’s head on his shoulder, as he holds his hand heavy, warm, oil-slick against Jango’s throat until his dead pulse jumps underneath his palm. 

-

Mand’alor —  “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. Haar Gaanla — “The Chosen”, fan creation for a Mandalorian Chosen One myth behot — an herb with a citrus taste and mildly stimulating properties, most often infused into shig, a Mandalorian beverage used similarly to caf buir/e — “parent/s”, gender neutral  Haat Mando’ad/e — lit. “true children of Mandalore”, True Mandalorians (slang shortened to Haat'ad/e)  Nau’ika — “Little light”, nickname for this specific Obi, which becomes new Mando’a slang for open-flame lanterns shabuir/e — an extreme insult, mostly accepted in fandom to be an insult of an individual’s ability to parent (from buir), which is an intrinsic part of Mandalorian psyche and identity  Uifri — “Chosen”, Zabraki (found with this translator) Otwiyaddirm — name meaning “Choice”, “Freedom”, Xaczik (made by combining names with this generator; myth is my own)

*my understanding is that blue suns supporting planet life is impossible, but i raise you: rule of cool. and does concord dawn even have a blue sun in disney or legends canon? i dunno, but you can’t stop me*

[thecarrieonokay]

Season 6: Monica Macer’s TVLine Interview: My Ramblings

If you haven’t already read it, here’s the link: https://tvline.com/2021/04/30/macgyver-recap-season-5-series-finale-season-6-spoilers-mac-riley-desi/ 

Also, for those not already familiar with my particular brand of speech: Swearing included.

Episode 3 people!! WE ONLY HAD TO WAIT 3 MORE FUCKING EPISODES!!! *sigh*

To be honest, I always kinda figured that the writers were planning a ‘first kiss’ in the 100th episode (by my count that would have been 6x06 but feel free to correct me if I’m wrong!). To find out it could have been sooner than that… I mean, FUCK!! That would be really fast in my humble opinion. But, for the record, it’s not always a straight line from ‘first kiss’ > ‘full-blown relationship’. I kinda thought that there would be a bit of Macriley angst before that was fully settled… because, as we all know, MAC + THERAPY is the priority ship. They’ve all got emotional trauma/ shit to sort out. And Mac and Desi need a positive resolution. AND MAC NEEDS A MOMENT!! 

It’s blatantly obvious to fans of Mac and Riley that they belong together. In ep 3 it might have become obvious to Mac too… but I suspect that for Riley, it might have been harder to see. Prioritising protecting her heart and keeping her family’s functioning dynamic intact, Riley might have kept Mac at arms length for a while moving forward. Hence, a gap between ‘first kiss/ brief moment of passion’ and ‘we belong together’. 

That would be my prediction, anyhow. 

Of course, her loyalty to Mac would never waver and I LOVE the idea that Riley would go undercover in a Manchurian Candidate-style storyline. After all, Riley is the only one who has an idea exactly how violated Mac would be feeling. AND at Matty’s request, no less (because of course she knows Riley would risk everything to help keep Mac safe). 

Plus, WHAT an opportunity for a ‘dark Mac’ story arc.

Seriously though, this interview makes it sound like season 6 would have kicked off with a fucking BANG. They weren’t going to waste any time bringing back Evan and tumbling the fragile dominoes that are Mac and Desi’s relationship. The moment Evan was mentioned in 5x12, I could see how his being alive would be a slightly more ‘healthy’ device to break up MacDesi without causing enough trauma to split up the whole team. I honestly didn’t think they would do it though… it seemed too obvious somehow. But, hey. I’m happy to be wrong. And this angle would’ve given Desi a fully fledged arc that gave real meat to her backstory. 

As for the other elements, I think the treasure hunt is the one I’m most sorry to be missing out on. Sofia was a great addition. As a character she allowed Russ to expose his more un-trusting and flawed facets. She gave him depth. AND the idea of ‘the boys’ going on a treasure hunt is EPIC. I mean, let’s face it, ALL of our guys harbor a secret/ not so secret desire to be Indiana Jones, right? I can’t be the only one picturing Mac with that hat and whip… ?!

AND Bozer’s parents weren’t just a one-off. We were going to see more of them. HELL YES we were. This indicates to me that MM was putting an end to the previous era’s disastrous record of leaving promising story threads dangling in the wind.

If there’s one overarching thing this interview reveals it’s this: The trail was set. The foundation was all laid. Season 6 would’ve been Monica and her team’s first real opportunity to tell a FULL story. No shoehorning structure into old arcs. No trying to piece together a coherent picture from fractured puzzle pieces. Just a full season with a plan and the episode count to see it through. And I don’t know about you all, but I feel fucking CHEATED out of that. Season 5 was a PL era web of leftover threads that needed to be carefully untangled. It took all nine MM episodes to do it but we got there. AND THERE IS SO MUCH POTENTIAL FOR MORE!! 

No matter what happens with the #SaveMacgyver campaign (I see you all, I love you and respect you all, you total HEROES!!), I’m glad for this interview. I don’t feel ‘spoiled’. And that’s simply because I respect what Monica did here-- She made sure that the fans knew she cared. She gave us what little closure she could. And she confirmed that everyone was blindsided by the news (as we all suspected) and in a way that’s the greatest ‘fuck you’ to CBS that she is capable of making. Because, yeah: FUCK CBS. No matter how you spin it, the execs did MacGyver dirty. It’s unprofessional at best and cruel at worst. This basically confirms my suspicions about the network and my expectations about their reluctance to relinquish the rights to a valuable property. Because of this, I am managing my expectations for the future VERY carefully (I’m not being negative. I just don’t like being burned or blindsided). But this interview has definitely spurned my desire for a season 6 like nothing else could. 

So. In conclusion: Fuck CBS, Mac dressed as Indiana Jones would be hot as hell and ALL HAIL MONICA MACER!!

[hyper-fixationhighway]

Beel's Special Bun

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

Those sensitive to talks about pregnancy and birth control should not read this. Nothing is explicitly stated, however if it's not your cup of tea, perhaps this is not for you. Additionally those who have not caught up in the most recent season (3) of the game run the risk of some spoilers. Thank you.

___________________________________________

It all started out like any other night since he had started his vacation with his brothers in the human world.

Beel was freshly out of the shower, donning his nightclothes that still clung to his moistened skin. Belphie wasn’t in just yet, likely having found some new, experimental place to take a nap in the human world that had gotten away from him. He’d have to find him, again, as per usual, before settling down for bed himself. 

Well, tonight he was expecting Myreina to drop by. They were due for a midnight snack date, as they had usually gone about naming them, which left him with a warm giddy feeling. 

That’s where the routine ended however, as Myreina burst through the door with urgency.

Beel moved to greet her, not really phased by the sudden entrance until he saw the palid look on her face and his smile fell away.

“Myreina? What’s wrong?”

“I’m late.”

“What? We didn’t agree to any specific time tonight. You don’t have to worry about something like that.”

“No Beel.” She stressed, looking at him with dire seriousness. “I’m late.”

It took a moment for the words to really sink in. He didn’t think much of tardiness and even she wasn’t the type to sweat it this much...no, this matter was far more concerning. And as the possibility finally began to dawn on him, his face slowly paled right along with hers. 

“Wait. Do you mean…?”

Myreina nodded slowly.

Oh. 

Beel took a moment to process that information, slowly digesting it before he took a breath and steadied himself. With a newfound look of resolution, he suddenly felt the need to be just about anywhere else but in this room. Or this house for that matter. He turned to his closet, rifling around in there and crammed his feet into whatever shoes were readily available. He tossed Myreina a coat of his and as she looked up from the oversized piece of clothing threatening to swallow her whole, he approached her slowly and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s take a walk tonight.”

And that was how the two found themselves drifting aimlessly in the streets that night, silent as the dead and about as lost to the nightlife surrounding them.

This hadn’t been a thing he’d thought about. How hadn’t he thought about this? It wasn’t too long ago even that this would have become a concern for them. 

He shook his head. 

No. Focus. This wasn’t all about him right now, it was about the both of them. In fact, maybe even more of them. Which begged the first uncomfortable question of that long night.

“...Is it mine?”

Myreina’s frame went noticeably rigid. 

He understood. After all, Myreina was in a committed relationship with all his brothers, even recently dating Simeon and perhaps even Solomon. Those were the conditions they had all agreed to when deciding to take her on as a partner and they respected that each relationship moved at its own pace. 

However, given the unique quality of their relationship, it begged the question of whether or not his pace had somehow outdone everyone else's. Or at least lined up in this case. Why else appear at his door after all. Unless of course it was actually Belphie she had been trying to say this to, and he just happened to be in the room. 

Would that make this scenario worse or better…? He wasn’t quite sure.

Myreina stumbled along awkwardly while he patiently waited. She seemed so nervous, maybe even scared to talk about it. It didn't make him feel all that great she was undergoing so much pressure. 

“Stay here for a second.” Beel said after a while, escorting her to a bench nearby. “I think I have something that can help.”

Myreina obliged, seating herself at the bench and staring off into open space for a while, organizing her thoughts while Beel ran off somewhere. In that time he was gone, she debated how she felt a little more on the matter, recalling just who it was she was so fortunate to call a partner in this miniature crisis. She didn’t think less of her other partners, of course, however she did know that a couple amongst them may have reactions far less grounded than Beel. So at least in that sense she was wholly thankful.

As Beel approached her again, she felt she had found a sense of calm, assisted only when she discovered the reason for his momentary absence; a pair of small cakes and some portable teas, billowing out a sweet and calming scent amidst the steam. It warmed up her frigid frame little by little as she was carefully handed the tea container and the warmth seeped into her fingers through the carton. 

“Thank you, Beel. So much.”

“Well, we did say we were going to have a midnight snack date tonight, didn’t we?” He sat besides her and blew into his tea, showing far more hesitation than he was usually known for before all but shotglassing the hot beverage back unbothered. “I don’t see why that plan has to change. It’s nice out tonight.”

Myreina giggled, feeling that warmth matched by something blossoming in her chest.

“You’re right. Maybe we should head outside for these midnight snack dates more often? Satan might not be so angry at us in the morning.”

The two giggled quietly, and things felt normal again. Nothing changed, nothing felt like the world was at the verge of collapse, a feeling she actually did have experience with and yet felt so distant from the pressure at hand. Beel hadn’t had the chance to resolve that crisis with his wholesome date method, but it was a lifesaver now.

After a couple of sips, Myreina sighed quietly into the chilly night air. 

“It has to be yours.”

“Are you sure? There’s no one else it could be?”

“Positive.” Myreina nodded. “I um, did have other’s that fit the time frame, but we were the only ones who did it...you know…”

“Right.” Beel recalled. “It was rather sudden.” 

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it and got carried away. Plus, we were in a game, maybe I wasn’t thinking the consequences would necessarily carry over.”

“Fair mistake.”

“I think so too. I mean, why would it carry over? It feels weird that it did.”

“I prefer it when fiction and reality have a harder line between them, I don’t know how Levi feels so comfortable blurring the line all the time.”

“Well, Levi is remarkably unique in that way.”

“I think you’re romanticising a very real concern, Myreina.”

Myreina giggled. “Maybe. I can admit to that.” 

She took another few sips of her tea, giving the cake a once over and sighed, passing it over to Beel, which caught his surprise.

“Did you not like it? No, you didn’t even try it?”

“I’m sure I would have but honestly, looking at it right now makes me a little...sick?”

Oh.

He swallowed the cake in one bite without any further words. 

It wasn’t until a little while after that, that Beel went on to whisper his next concern.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Beel shuffled about, feeling his face warm up in embarrassment, stretching all the way over the front of his face and over his ears.

“This isn’t...the kind of thing I wanted you to be stuck with when you remembered our first time.” He stammered over the end of his sentence and looked over at her, alarmed. “Not that I think this is something we’re stuck with! Or that, it’s even...something we can’t welcome! It’s just, I...I don’t want you to misunderstand, Myreina. I love you, so I wanted it to be really special, and we waited so long, after all! I just...this isn’t how I wished for things to play out.”

Myreina smiled and leaned into him, letting his tension melt along as it accommodated her body more comfortably. He was always like this. Effortlessly kind and supportive, caring and mindful of his position. Once again, reminding her that this, for all the important discussion it was, didn’t mean the end of the world. Not with him at her side.

“I will never regret that moment, Beel.” Myreina said, nuzzling into his big arm. The action prompted it to lift and wrap around her, bringing her close to him and surrounding her in his warmth. 

“I love you, and this stands no chance against how I feel. It can’t change it. Not my feelings before, not during, not now. So you have nothing to worry about. Our first time together will always be a precious memory to me. Whatever the future that follows.”

She bit her lip.

“That being said…” Myreina took a moment, breathing in and breathing out to settle her nerves then looked up to meet his eyes, awaiting hers in that same, no, possibly more embarrassed gaze. “I...I’m not ready for this. Not now. I have a lot going on for me right now, and I want to give it it’s due attention.” 

Her hands abandoned the tea container and found his big hands, wrapping them and eventually interlacing in the most natural way.

“I want to treasure you and the pace of our relationship right now, I want to become a sorcerer that Solomon and the human world can be proud of...I want to see what role I can play in Lord Diavolo’s plan and, well, I want to keep dancing. There’s just too many things I want to keep doing before I think about adding a baby to the mix.” Myreina shut her eyes a bit, feeling Beel lean his forehead on hers, kisses coming up from her cheeks up to her temple. “It’s just not time for it right now...do you understand?”

She felt his lips form that same, gentle smile against her temple where they had lingered.

“Of course I do. I completely agree.”

Her eyes opened slowly, meeting his and they squinted from her overjoyed smile.

“You do? I mean, with you Beel, maybe...one day, I wouldn’t mind.”

Beel nodded. “With you I could do anything. A kid...I can see that.” 

His smiling lips dipped down, kissing the exposed fingers laced between his. “Just not right now.”

“Beel…” She unlocked her fingers and wrapped her arms around him, feeling his rush to mirror the same, squeezing her lightly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Myreina.”

Letting the moment rest, they eventually came apart, Beel easily plopping her down onto his lap and the two reestablishing a sense of calm. 

“But I do have a question…” Myreina pressed after a while, turning a new concern over in her brain. “Where...do we go from here? I mean, we have facilities here for human babies, but is it the same for demon/human hybrids? Is that even a thing?”

“It’s more common than you think.” Beel admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. “A lot of demons and humans get intimate when summoned to the human world. After all, a pact doesn’t necessarily need to be negotiated with a soul after all. There are all kinds of arrangements.”

“Oh.”

Beel and Myreina laughed awkwardly, feeling themselves flush at the face at the prospect of it.

“But, I don’t know of any facilities in the human world that could accommodate that. We’d have to go to the Devildom, at least if we don’t want to mention this to any of my brothers. Which, I'm going to assume we don’t.”

“You would be right.” Myreina immediately agreed.

“I’ll contact Barbatos to situate a portal for us to the Devildom. I might not be able to evade telling him, especially if I’m already keeping this a secret from everyone else. And he will want to know why he should make a portal for us exclusively…”

“That’s fine. I trust him to be discreet.” Myreina rationalized. “More so even than myself.”

“I don’t think we have to worry, I mean, no one will know you went to the Devildom for the day and if anyone asks where you went, you can say it was a scheduled check up. That’s not technically lying, is it?”

“It’s not lying at all actually.”

She may not be able to tell lies, but she could at least withhold the gorrier details of a truth. After all, she didn’t share every word to her partners. No matter how deeply they interrogated. And as long as no one asked her about being specifically expectant, then there would be nothing more to add to the matter than a simple check up.

Snacks and discussions completed, the two picked up after themselves and began the trek back home, a lot livelier compared to their departure. However, before they could get too close, Myreina stopped and noticed the road back to her original place before moving into the mansion, calling Beel out of his distracted thoughts of procuring a second snack upon their arrival. 

“Something wrong?”

“I just had a thought.” Myreina started, looking at him with a certain glint in her eye. “Our first time was in a game. A fictional world.”

“Yes…?” Beel confirmed, blushing a bit at the sudden recollection. “What about it?”

“Well, do you think that’s actually all that fair? I mean, how are we to know if it feels different in a game?”

“Well, I mean, the consequences carried over just fine…”

Myreina laughed at his slightly bitter tone, something so uncharacteristic for him these days, yet still wholly in character as he missed the greater picture. 

She stood before him, training his eyes to follow her as she gave him a more suggestive look, marveling as his expression slowly started to become more knowing as to what she had been alluding.

“I just think there's a time and place for fiction, and that there ought to be a clear distinction between it and reality.”

Beel smiled a bit, then began to chuckle shyly. “Are...you serious, Myreina?”

“Very much so. I mean, the way I see it, we happen to be in a very fortunate set of circumstances right here and now!”

“How do you figure?”

“Well…” Myreina pointed down a path in the opposite direction of the manor. “My house...happens to be just down that way. You haven’t seen it before, have you? No one has actually...you’d be the first.”

Beel closed the distance between them a bit, planting a large hand onto the small of her back and drawing her flush onto his body, still laughing in modest amusement.

“Is that right?”

“Yup! Not only that...but when you really think about it…” She leaned up and whispered as close to his ear as her tiptoeing could manage, assisted by his full interest leaning him forward to meet her. “You don’t need to protect against a consequence that’s already happened, do you?”

His face practically burned. 

He often forgot how much bolder Myreina had become since accepting them all and leaving behind her inhibitions. He also forgot just how damn good that stood to feel. 

Head filled with a different kind of emerging hunger, he pressed a kiss to her lips which she reciprocated with a steamy, unfiltered passion, only whetting his growing appetite for her. He pulled away, their breaths and mindsets building a heated space between what little they allowed between them. 

“Let’s go.”

[1morefairytale]

Prompt 30: Abstracted

((Hooboy. This one is not good. But it's done!))

“You know I wouldn’t normally ask this of you. I wouldn’t normally ask anything at all, really, because I know you’re busy with your own things and I don’t want to inconvenience or bother you because I know that irritates you, but I don’t think I can do this without you and it’s not the sort of thing that I can ask anyone else. I definitely can’t ask anyone official for this. Not that I’m saying that someone official would be better or anything. Because in this case? They wouldn’t! But I recently learned that I’m not especially good at climbing-- “

Malika had just walked in the door of the La Noscean daycare when she was accosted by… whatever this was. She’d only come here because it was the closest safe place where she could get some sleep in a bedroom that had been specifically set up for her. She didn’t have any interest in watching over children, or getting to know the members of this free company as dear friends, or, really, interacting with anyone here at all. She definitely hadn’t had any plans to have a conversation about… whatever this was… with the green-haired, goody-goody Raen who worked here.

“Uh.” Malika said blankly and then blinked as she tried to figure out what in the seven hells was even being asked of her. “Hi, Saachi.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Saachi grimaced. “I should have said hi first.”

“No problem,” Malika assured her. Then, pretending she had not heard any part of the rambling request at all, she began moving towards her room. “Goodnight.”

“Oh,” The Raen flushed slightly, embarrassed to be put in a situation where she had to make the request all over again. As far as Malika was concerned, she didn’t have to make the request again. She’d hoped that her walking away from it would make the polite Raen too uncomfortable to attempt again. Alas. “Oh. I was hoping I could ask you for a favor. Which I’m very sorry about because you look very tired. And I wouldn’t normally ask you but--”

Oh no. Not the whole thing all over again! Malika closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then smiled when she opened them again. “Right. Ok!” She put a hand up to stop the poor girl. “Tell me again what you’re wanting? But give me the short version. Like the very very very short version. Like the one sentence version.”

“Ah. Ah hah,” Saachi chuckled nervously, fully aware that she was very bad at giving ‘very very very short, one sentence version’ of anything. “Right. So. I need you to steal something.”

Malika’s eyebrows shot right up. Her ears did too. She was suddenly interested.

“Oh no.” Saachi lamented. “That was one sentence on its own. I’m really bad at--”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Malika assured her. “And being a ‘hero in training’ as you call yourself, you don’t steal things, huh”

“Not usually,” Saachi answered a bit awkwardly. “It’s less about trying to be a hero and more about--”

“Ok. So what am I stealing? Why?”

Saachi took a deep breath and exalted it slowly through her nose to calm her nerves. “It’s really really bad is why. Gods knows I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really really bad...but it is. If I were better at climbing I’d do it myself. I wish I could do it myself. But I’m slow and noisy and this is really a matter of discretion because the person involved doesn’t have a great record of being trustworthy and--

“Saachi,” Malika said again patiently. “What am I stealing? Why?”

“On a job with the Adders my team uncovered a magical artifact. It’s a book. It has no title. It’s got a very simple binding and a very basic brown cover. It looks, honestly, just like a blank journal. It didn’t even look very ancient to me. Like you could just find this journal in any bookstore in Eorzea. And that’s exactly the problem. It’s not a blank journal at all. Well, I mean it kind of is? The thing is--- this is a book that hasn’t been written… yet. It writes itself as you read it. The way the scholars talked about it is that it is a book that is created somewhat out of time and can’t be written until it’s read. But for the person who does read it, it can lead them to-- well, the scholars said insanity is the best case scenario.”

“The best case scenario is going crazy?” Malika didn’t have the energy to ask how a book could possibly be “out of time” or not be written until it was read. She definitely didn’t have the energy to listen to the theoretical explanation of it at this moment either. She was certain it wouldn’t lead her to any greater understanding of how artifacts worked and that it would definitely just eat up more time. “What’s the worst case?”

“They think it could be like some kind of contagion. Interaction with the person who read the book could make the people around them crazy.”

“Ah,” Malika answered. “Ok. We’re on the same page then… Apologies for the pun… Anyroad, it sounds really really bad. It also sounds stupid, strange and unlikely. But,” she sighed, “No more so than any other artifact I’ve heard of, I guess.” It would be forever a mystery to Saachi and Malika both what could inspire people who made artifacts to create items like this.

Malika shook her head, “But if you found the book and gave it to the Adders, why am I stealing it?”

“Well, it looks like any other blank book, remember?”

“Uh huh.”

“So… one of the Adders on the job got it confused with another book. They took and vaulted an actual regular book and this led to that, I guess, and now an Ul’dahn noble has this book. We can’t just go asking for the book--”

“Why?” Malika asked, unconvinced. “My guess is that if you knock on someone’s door and ask to have a blank journal because, and I quote, ‘Best case scenario: If you open the pages and read it-- don’t ask me how you read a blank journal, you just do-- it will make you insane. Worst case: it makes everyone insane.’ that they will probably have a lot less interest in using it as a diary for all the things they get up to and people they push around day to day. Hard to get much out of being a wealthy asshole if you’re too crazy to enjoy it.”

Saachi frowned and then shrugged her shoulders, conceding the point that it would, certainly, be difficult to enjoy being a noble if narcissism was somehow replaced by full-blown madness.

“Well. It’s just as likely that hearing that they have a powerful artifact that could have such a devastating effect on people would make them want to -keep- the journal and use it as a weapon. As you pointed out, this is a very influential and wealthy person. This noble, in particular, enjoys collecting rare items. Getting this item, even just asking for it, would surely have political repercussions. So we’d really prefer they not even know about this.” Saachi wiped her hands, sweaty from nerves, on her apron and continued. “Which is why, ideally, we’d get in without anyone noticing and switch that book for an actual journal. Then they’d never even know what happened. But the house is staffed. There are maids, butlers, guards, dogs, the works. And we suspect the book will be on the third floor in the study, the library, or the bedroom. If you can get to the backyard of this place without being seen, you can get into the windows of each of those locations. But you have to be quiet.” Saachi wrung her hands nervously and sucked on the inside of her cheek. “And you can’t be caught.”

“Ok, boss. So you want me to sneak around this well-fortified mansion after climbing to the third floor, evading all possible people that could be up there--”

“--and any alarms,” Saachi dutifully pointed out.

“--And any alarms. Right. Try to find this specific non-descript book in possibly a study or a library that will be full of books and hope I get the right one without opening it to make sure and replace it with this decoy blank journal?

“...Yeah.”

“Great!” Malika laughed. “This sounds stupid, horrible, tedious, and impossible. I’m in.”

Saachi blinked and relief washed over her face. Her eyes widened and a giant, appreciative smile spread across her face. “Really? You will? I can’t thankk you enough! It’s a really good thing that you’re doing. Heroic even! It could potentially save so many lives.”

“You just have to give me your necklace.” Malika motioned with a nod of her head to the opal choker the Raen wore around her neck. Correction: that she always wore around her neck.

Saachi’s hand instinctively went to it and her relief completely vanished. “My necklace? I… I but… why?”

Malika shook her head. “Doesn’t matter why. Do we have a deal?”

The why, of course, was that it seemed to be an item that held extreme personal significance to Saachi. Items of significance were the only items Malika ever really cared about acquiring.

The Raen felt the opal in the center of the choker with her thumb, her expression far away as she momentarily went back in time to when she’d first acquired it. It was a look Malika knew well. It was the look people always had when they were about to give up something they loved. A shot of guilt crawled up through Malika’s stomach and then through her veins. She rotated her shoulders in an attempt to get it to slide off her. She could no more stop her compulsion to take people’s most treasured belongings than Saachi could stop her compulsion to be a big damn hero. But Malika wasn’t a big damn hero. She wasn’t a hero at all. And she wasn’t about to stand here and let Saachi confuse her for one either.

“Ok,” Saachi said, unfastening the necklace to hand over. “But I’m going to get it back.”

Malika’s eyes widened with surprise. She hadn’t expected that. “And how are you planning to do that?”

Saachi, face resolute and proud, and a stubbornness in her eyes that Malika was unaccustomed to but had heard about before, answered, “In a sentence: I will steal it back if I must.”

The Miqo’te grinned. Her tail swished. And, for one moment, she stopped thinking of Saachi as every other goody-goody she’d ever met. “Really? I thought you said you can’t do that.”

“I can’t climb to the third floor quietly to steal something. I never said I can’t steal at all.” She gestured to the choker with her head in the same manner Malika had moments previously. “So that is only yours until it’s not again. Please go get the artifact back.” And from her bag she withdrew the very simple, very plain decoy journal.

Malika chuckled and put both items in her bag and bit back the urge to make a crack about hiding the choker on the third floor of some building. Instead, she simply said, “You got it, boss.”

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Ngl, the Nadia anons and fic have me in a Nadia mood. Can we get a fic where MC and Vivienne aren't dating, but Nadia thought they were and finds out they aren't, so she tries winning over MC, and MC is both wary and slightly charmed, despite the entire Poppy being exasperated, and finally agrees to a date? It could be a follow on from the other fic or it's own thing. (If you receive this ask twice please ignore the 2nd one, tumblr gave a bad request message for the first so idk if you got it)

Pairing with: “Can we have a Nadia stalking mc instead of Vivienne? Getting intrigued by the mc and then wanting her to join her instead“

...

Written by @an-awkward-ghost

“I’m a bit confused.”

The voice is firm, perhaps even a bit harsh, and it has Nadia instantly on edge. Were it not for the small, almost imperceptible hint of playfulness, the blond thief would have already brandished her knife. Instead, she just freezes there, wide eyed, letting the voice wash over her and awaken a torrent of feelings she had buried deep within her. Emotions only brought problems, only made her pick all the wrong options. She couldn’t trust something as fickle as that. She knew that. Well. At least she thought she knew that.

Yet here she is, eagerly spinning around after a moment’s hesitation, seeking the owner of that sweet, sweet, harsh voice.

It had only been a month, but Karina seemed to have changed drastically. Gone was the insecure little girl she had been, wrapped in Vivienne’s shadow. Now she stood strong and unflinching just a few meters away, shoulders thrown back in attempt to look taller, brown eyes calculating Nadia’s every movement like a predator. One wrong move, and it was over.

Nadia didn’t want to underestimate a woman like Karina ever again.

“You said you weren’t after Vivienne anymore… but here you are anyway.” Her eyes flickered up and down, her expression softening with a small, unconcerned smile. It didn’t look cocky, nor did it look happy. It was teasing, meant to irritate Nadia to her very core, but she found she couldn’t quite look at it without feeling butterflies rise. It was unfair. Nadia pursed her lips and looked away, and Karina continued. “What am I supposed to think?”

She felt like she had been put under a microscope, left there to be picked apart by the artist.

“It… was a coincidence?” She finally said, voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of emotions she was experiencing.

Karina hummed. “Yeah, I don’t really believe in coincidences and that only leaves me with plenty of creepy alternatives. You might want to explain yourself.”

“I didn’t know you would come here next.” Nadia forced herself to meet her gaze, half-wishing she could just burn the butterflies in her stomach so she could actually concentrate, half-berating herself for not realizing where her true affections laid sooner. “I had planned to stay away from you – that’s why I decided to come here in the first place.”

“Sure. Awfully close to our next target, too. How convenient.”

Frustration could not begin to convey what Nadia was feeling right now. Hot-headed indignation, barely held at bay by the cold, murky feeling of rejection. Her hands closed into fists, then opened, then closed again in quick motions, as if she were trying to grasp her conflicting feelings and bury them even deeper.

“I didn’t even know you had a target here.” She spat at last, scowling. “Look, I won’t get in between your relationship with Vivienne anymore. I won’t even stay here, if it bothers you so much. I could probably pick the next flight to–”

“My relationship?”

“Yes, your– why are you looking at me like that?” It takes a few seconds. Nadia has never had so many conflicting feelings in her entire life. There’s the bubbly, blissful hope that lifts her spirits and spreads over her whole body like a blanket of pure joy, warm and fuzzy, but there’s also the sinking, bitter sensation of a misunderstanding. Of not reading the room correctly, despite that being Nadia’s forte. “You aren’t dating Vivienne.”

Karina’s smile seems a little less detached, bordering on genuine. “It’s true I had some interest in her at the beginning, but I quickly realized a relationship wasn’t the best choice. Hey, maybe we should start a club or something! God knows there’s enough people interested in Vivienne to get plenty of members.”

“Then… but she didn’t– you were jealous!”

“Yeah, I can’t deny that.” A sheepish shrug. “But in my defense, who wouldn’t be?”

Nadia takes a deep breath. “You were jealous.” She repeats, more to herself than to Karina. She’s trying to make this whole situation make sense. “Of Vivienne…? Because I was giving attention to her.”

A light blush that might be Nadia’s imagination appears on Karina’s face. “I think we might be getting off topic here. You, uh, you said you were going to leave?”

“I was, but there’s no way I’m doing that after this revelation.” After a month of aimlessly swimming through the situation, Nadia finally thinks she might have found her footing. She smirks. “You are interested in me.”

Karina looks her up and down again, wary. “Was. You know, before I found out you are an obsessive asshole.”

“Believe me, I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ll respect your boundaries.” She takes a few steps closer. Karina seems rooted in place, body angling towards the end of the alleyway they are in, but making no move to leave. “But I can’t let this chance slip me by.”

“Chance? So because you couldn’t get Vivienne, now you are after me?”

“Ah…” Nadia hesitates, all confidence wavering. The other woman narrows her eyes. “No. No, I…” The words were right there. Somehow, they wouldn’t come out.

“You…?

“It’s just. I didn’t– I…” She lets out a small grunt of frustration. “I wasn’t interested in her. I thought I was. Turns out she wasn’t the one that interested me at all.”

“But then… why did you…” A beat, and Karina’s eyes widen. “You were projecting your feelings onto her.”

“Yes. And now that it’s come out into the open that you are also interested-”

“Was. I was interested. Past tense. Nadia, I’m saying no. Can you respect that, please?”

Nadia pursed her lips, feeling her good mood dissipate. This was what had ruined her chances in the past, her near violent approach. She backed the subject of her interest to a corner where they would have no other choice but to pick her, because the alternative was even worse.

That’s not something she wanted for Karina. Whatever this affection was, it felt far more fragile and precious than any of her other obsessions.  Far more real. Worth treasuring. Nadia wasn’t sure she could even call this feeling ‘an obsession’.

She couldn’t force something like this. She didn’t want to.

“I understand.” She said. “And you have every right to say no, but I want you to give me a chance to prove that I’ve changed.” That had been mostly thanks to the sheer number of sleepless nights she had had, just thinking about everything. Her ideology and how it clashed with the Poppy’s, mainly. That was why she had scrapped the video her crew was working on, why she had put on hold the heists they had planned.

She knew she still had a long way to go, but she was willing and raging to go. A change was long overdue.

“Just one chance. I won’t let it go to waste.”

…

“It was creepy enough when it was Vivienne, but I didn’t expect to endure this type of thing again.” Zoe holds up a gift for everyone to see with a small grimace. Jett takes one look at it and whistles in appreciation.

“Those are some quality paints, alright. You’re going to have a field day with those, Kar.”

“Who said I was going to use them?”

“So I can throw them out or-”

“What? No! Zoe, don’t!”

Vivienne smirks from where she is curled up on the couch, amusement crinkling in her eyes. “Now this is a development, thought I can’t say it was unexpected.” The mirth dies down soon enough. To anyone else she’d look composed, detached, but the members of the Poppy know her well enough to detect the hint of worry clouding her expression. “How do you feel about this, Karina? Would you like us to handle it?”

“I can think of a few ways that might be effective.” Leon adds, from the other side of the room, a frown firmly in place.

“She just can’t give up, can she?” Remy huffs. “First Vivienne, now Karina… When do you think you’ll have your turn, Zoe?”

Zoe gives him a dry look. “Never. Not if I can help it. But seriously Kar, what do we do? If I have to see another gift from that woman, I swear-”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

The living room is always alive with noise when the Poppy gathers in it, sharing laughs, the atmosphere light and welcoming. All of that skids to an abrupt stop as soon as Karina has finished talking. Silence reigns so perfectly it becomes deafening, all eyes on her, searching, prodding, as if they were trying to find out when Karina had been replaced by some kind of impostor.

The artist laughs. “Seriously. Just give me at least a week with her. I want to see something.”

“Something?” Nikolai repeats, one of his eyebrows so far up into his hairline Karina is almost expecting it to fall off. “Not that I don’t trust your judgement, but you must remember who we are talking about. One week is plenty of time for her to kill you.”

“One week.” Karina says again, resolute. “That is all I ask.”

The rest of the Poppy sputters in a chaos of half-shouted reasons why this won’t work, and half-muttered inquiries regarding Karina’s sanity. She takes it all in stride, mostly because they aren’t telling her anything new, something she hadn’t considered before making the decision. Curiosity kills the cat, some say, and Karina is definitely curious to see how much Nadia has allegedly changed.

…

“I’m definitely surprised this time.”

Nadia gives her a curious look, her smirk firmly in place. The confidence she exudes is something that had interested Karina from the moment she had first seen the blonde woman, an unhinged storm worth admiring from a distance.

She had certainly mellowed out. There was still a dangerous undertone to her every action, but it was more controlled. Karina wasn’t naive, she knew Nadia could still kill people if she wanted to, probably with no remorse whatsoever, but she had the impression she would at least consider other alternatives before rushing in for the kill. Nadia hadn’t been lying – she had changed.

Or she was a really good actress, but Karina was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“I didn’t think you’d have such a drastic change in just one month.”

Blue eyes shimmer with delight. Nadia practically preens.

“I’m full of surprises. You’d better get used to that.”

“Good! That just means I won’t get bored anytime soon.”

“I’ll ensure you don’t.”

The chill of the night makes for an excellent excuse to get closer, not that Nadia really needs it. She moves closer to her in one smooth movement, but Karina catches the look the blonde woman sends her way, making sure she’s not overstepping any boundaries. It’s a sweet gesture, something she wouldn’t have expected from Nadia in the past.

They’re on top of the Eiffel Tower. Leon is somewhere near, out of sight, and Karina can just imagine him staring at them from wherever he is with a concerned frown, ready to intervene at any sign of trouble. But nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Karina stands there, transfixed by the anecdotes Nadia is telling her, eyes tracking her every movement with a shocked wonder she hadn’t felt before. There had been a spark with Vivienne, all those months ago, when the Poppy had recruited her, but nothing like the emotion she feels now. There’s a raging fire somewhere in her soul she had ignored until now, emboldened by Nadia’s smile, by her touch, by her mere presence.

And when the date comes to an end, and she stands inches away, blue eyes searching hers for permission?

Karina can only nod, eyes fluttering shut as Nadia slips one finger under her chin, directing her face up, expression softening as she leans in.

She feels like she is on cloud nine.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Hello there! Idk if you’re still taking requests, so if you aren’t, ignore this! But I was wondering if you could write Diego x reader, where she meets his siblings for the first time, and at first it’s kinda awkward, but then they get more comfortable and maybe just like fluff after when they get back home? It might be totally stupid but idk. I love your writing!💕💕

A/N: Babe, it’s totally not stupid at all. Meeting the family shenanigans is basically the perfect trope for this show.  Sort of accidentally ended up a sequel to this fic, so I ran with it.  Word Count: 1678 Content Warnings: Season 2 spoilers

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Diego asked, gripping your hand tightly as the two of you walked toward the restaurant. “It’s not too late for us to just leave.”

“Diego Hargreeves, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you didn’t want me to meet your family,” you teased, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s one dinner, it’ll be okay.”

“You say that now,” he muttered and you rolled your eyes affectionately in response before pulling open the door and walking inside.

When you gave your names to the hostess, she smiled brightly and told you that the rest of your party was already waiting for you, before leading you to a large table in a private room off the main dining area. Four pairs of eyes turned to you appraisingly. You swallowed nervously and put on a smile of you own.

“Hi everyone, sorry we’re late,” you said, taking one of the two empty seats, somewhat awkwardly as Diego still refused to let go of your hand. “Someone didn’t believe me that traffic was going to be a nightmare on a Friday night.”

One of the women at the table, who you vaguely recognized from a cheesy romance playing on late-night cable and therefore deduced was Allison smiled in a way that felt indulgent and false; it didn’t quite reach her eyes; it was rehearsed.

“Oh he never listens to anybody, don’t take it personally, Y/N,” the smaller of the two men said, stretching across the table and offering you a broad grin and a hand with the word hello tattooed on it. “I’m Klaus, and you’re the gorgeous creature my brother’s decided to shack up with, huh?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his greeting, shaking his hand politely while Diego glared. “Nice to meet you Klaus,” you said with a smile.

“You know, I already like you better than his last two girlfriends. You haven’t tried to arrest or kill me!”

“Sorry what? Is that a joke?” you frowned in confusion as you let go of his hand and leaned back, glancing over at Diego to see his tight jaw and stony face, clear indications that he was upset.

You hand sought his under the table and you gave it a gentle squeeze, drawing his gaze to you and smiling at him.

‘It’s all good, relax,’ you mouthed.

“No I’m deadly serious,” Klaus continued. “For a while he was with this lady cop on-again/off-again style and she’d arrest me for drugs when she caught me around. Until she was tragically murdered by time-travelling assassins who kidnapped me looking for Five. Then while we were in the 60s, he fell for this girl from the nuthouse who turned out to be a plant and totally tried to kill us!” He gave a pained little chuckle, as if to say, ‘can you believe that?’

You stared at him, open-mouthed and aghast.

“Ignore Klaus, he’s never known when to shut up a day in his life,” the woman you had first noticed said. “I’m Allison.”

Klaus shot her a look that somehow combined a pout and a glare, but fell silent. You felt some of the tension sink out of Diego beside you, though he still didn’t seem comfortable. You smiled at her.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” you said, still trying to shake off the information Klaus had given (which seemed to line up with what the small, angry brother who was oddly not at dinner had said, and was far too much to actually process at the moment).

You turned to the two who hadn’t yet spoken. “So you must be Luther and Vanya?”

The man nodded, shifting in his seat and giving you an awkward little wave. The other woman glowered at you and said nothing. You frowned, wondering what you had done to earn her ire already.

Allison cleared her throat. “We ordered some bruschetta and sangria for the table before you arrived.”

The rest of dinner passed in much the same way as those first moments: Luther was mostly silent and clearly uncomfortable (whether with your presence or very fact of being out in public seemed unclear) but he started to relax and warm up as the evening went on, even once or twice sharing a stiff joke; Vanya was cold, barely responsive to your attempts to engage with her; Allison tried to play the hostess and keep topics light and small-talk-esque, breaking long silences with new conversations, obviously trying her best but ultimately resulting in a stilted performance; Klaus blurted out evidently whatever thoughts passed through his mind, usually bizarre and outlandish, sometimes profound and deeply sad. It was like none of them knew how to be normal people or have dinner with their sibling’s significant other, or an average conversation and you couldn’t help but feel oddly warmed by that, but the fact that they were so…human.

You did your best to keep up with all of them, appreciating Allison’s best efforts, laughing at some of Klaus’s jokes or countering his philosophical points, trying not to call too much attention to Luther or make him feel put on the spot. Diego felt his heart swell with pride at how well you did, and how you took everything in stride, even as the minutes seemed to drag on and he started to fear that dinner would never end.

The only thing that kept rankling at you was Vanya’s attitude, so when she got up to go to the bathroom, you excused yourself as well, cornering her in the hall of the restaurant.

“Hey, no offense, but what the hell is your problem with me?” you asked, tilting your head to one side, more curiosity than animosity in your tone.

She rolled her eyes, trying to push past you, but you resolutely blocked her path.

“I know I’m dating Diego and there’s like a whole weird history there or whatever, but don’t I at least deserve a chance before you decide to treat me like the devil?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”                                        

“You seem nice, and you’re…normal. Our family doesn’t do well with that,” she explained, folding her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to do the whole friendly, welcome to the family or whatever bullshit. Cus you’re either going to turn out not actually normal and screw us over, or you’re going to turn out actually normal and get hurt or bail before you do.”

You stared at her for a long, silent moment.

“I’m not going anywhere. I love Diego, and I think for all that they’re weird, I like your family a lot.”

“You say that for now, but we’ll see.”

“If there’s really no way for me to change your mind, fine, but maybe the reason people leave is just because you shove them away.”

You turned and returned to the table with that, not giving her a chance to respond. You still weren’t thrilled, but at least you felt like you understood her better now, and she seemed to soften toward you at least a little for the rest of the evening.

By the time the check came (a check you noticed that Allison picked up without even glancing at the numbers) you felt like you had really gotten to know Diego’s siblings, and seen a different side of him as he slowly loosened up around them.

As you all got up to leave, it became a chain of “it was nice to meet you”s and “we should do this again”s. Allison moved in for a hug and you returned it happily enough. Luther patted you on the shoulder awkwardly, his big hand enveloping it as if you were a child, surprising you with his size more close up than the other end of the table. Klaus moved as if to follow you home, and then pouted much like a stray puppy when Diego gave him a stern look that communicated without words that he was not allowed to do so. Then he turned to you and hugged you. But where Allison’s was polite and somewhat formal, Klaus’s was anything but, his long limbs folding around you and his chin resting on your shoulder.

“It was sooo good to meet you,” he purred in your ear. “And I’m glad Diego found you.” He pulled back to look you in the eye, his hands still resting on your upper arms. “I mean it. You’re good for him. Take care of him.”

“I will,” you said with a smile. “And you take care of yourself.”

Vanya offered you a polite nod, and you took what you could get.

~

“Y/N, I’m so sorry about tonight,” Diego sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he sank down onto the couch.

“What are you talking about D? It was fine.” You hung your coat on one of the pegs near the door and then, with a roll of your eyes, picked up his from where he’d tossed it on the floor and hung it as well.

“It was torture. In fact I think I’d rather be tortured.”

“I mean sure it was awkward, and your family’s a little weird, but I knew going in not to expect anything else.”

“It didn’t make you regret the day you ever met me?”

You dropped onto the couch next to him, leaning into his side and tilting your head to kiss him, smiling against his mouth.

“I could never regret that babe.”

His arm circled your shoulders, drawing you closer as he returned your kiss fervently. He groaned as you pressed against him and ran your tongue over his lower lip, opening up to invite you in. It wasn’t often that he let you take the lead, so you took full advantage while you could, pressing him back against the cushions and straddling his lap, running your hands through his hair.

“Besides,” you said, pulling back to smile teasingly. “Now I won’t feel so bad when you meet my family.”

[silversundown2]

Some thoughts on 10x16

There's no chance I can wait six months for something with that much hype and not be at least slightly disappointed. If the ep aired in it's original time slot I may have enjoyed it a lot more.

More under the cut because it’s a bit long.

I'm not super disappointed in the caryl interactions because I didn't expect canon yet, what bugs me more is that nothing else got resolved in a satisfying way. There was so much build up for so many things and so many of those just sort of hang loose and limp and now and I'm like....ok, but that's it?

The beta and daryl fight for example was a big ol' snooze fest and over in ten seconds. After all that build up? That's how it goes down? That is basically the theme here, just apply it everywhere.

Carol's whole arc this season was just so fucking sad, and she is crying so much and so miserable. Thinking about passively killing herself, dreaming of domestic bliss with Daryl that she thinks she can never have, trying to shove him at another woman because she wants him to be ok after she's gone, that whole post cave fight with him, etc. It was A LOT and I don't feel like she got a fair resolution on any of that really. Much of it wasn’t even addressed.

The Lydia scene at the cliff was nice, but maybe Carol's just suffered so much that it takes ten times that for me to feel like it's cathartic enough.

Carol's face when Daryl was talking about going with Michonne was perfect though, and sad and I loved it. "I'm still here." she says, like she's somehow not enough. :(

The hug wasn't as good as no sanctuary and I really wish reviewers would stop using that comparison. Unless caryl are naked hugging nothing is going to top that. But I did think it was a great scene all on it's own and I enjoyed it. If I was watching the show without spoilers to taint my view and on it's original time slot six months ago I'd probably be over moon about it.

Ya'll it is SO BIG for Daryl to once again bring up running away together and for Carol to reply like it's not a joke, because maybe at first she's like yeah sure dude, but then says "we have things to do here first" like she's legit considering what they have to put in order before they leave. That's big. And this time we KNOW it's leading to that spin off.

Basically, I think the hype and ‘rona fucked this episode overall for pretty much everyone regardless of what you ship or what you're hoping to see and there's no getting around that.

What it did do very well though is show just how much Daryl loves Carol. He's there for her no matter what (we been knew yall). She always has him.

How much Carol loves Daryl and how she wants to be enough for him.

Set up for the following season to be a nice lead in for the spin off.

Repaired Lydia and Carol's relationship.

Got rid of Carol's suicidal tendencies. I don't think we'll see her apathetic about her own life again. Regardless of me thinking how that resolution came was enough or not, thank god it's over. She can't move forward with anyone like that.

Set up a whole new storyline for connie somewhere far away from carol and daryl. I'm down for it.

What would I have rather seen? What would have satisfied me? Aside from canon, I think Carol has earned a sobfest in Daryl's arms for as long as that endless horde walk was. Our girl has spent all season holding it in. Let her get it out in an ugly cry and fall asleep in her soulmate's arms. Anything less than purging it in a raw and uncomfortable way is going to feel like not enough.

Too much hurt this season, not enough comfort.

I still ship caryl. I still think we are getting canon. I still am excited for season 11 and the spin off. It was a GOOD episode, just not a GREAT episode and after six months in a pandemic we deserved 10 out of 10 amazing.