#it's the equivalent of walking up to someone and telling them you want a sandwich for lunch. to her.

[riverstardis]

shame:

lots of ethan in the previously AS IT SHOULD BE!!

ah. mercedes. that means this is when noel’s attacked :(

now it’s ethan’s turn to be dropping stuff

lily says he looks likes he needs some time off and he goes “yeah, kill a patient then go on holiday. lovely.” he sounds so flat :(

zoe tells him he needs to go to the morbidity and mortality meeting about the suicidal guy and he’s like “am i in trouble?” 😥😥 someone give him a hug right. now.

zoe says of course not it’s just death and doughnuts and lily says that no one blames him but he just ignores her and walks off :(((( that’s where you’re wrong lily, clearly one person does blame him (himself)

iain saying if he can’t make dixie laugh by the end of the shift he’ll clean the ambulance in his underwear😭

oop nevermind cal’s still dropping stuff and then checking his hands :(

he’s decided to have the test

“have i ever told you about that mate of mine who gave me his epipen when he was dying? it seemed really important to him at the time that i have it…” 💀💀💀

they have a no hoods policy in the hospital?

ethan hears robyn saying she can’t force a patient to stay and he’s like “if you don’t think a patient should be discharged you can’t just let them go” and she’s like “chill out ethan it was a sprained wrist” 😭 he is not okay

i miss noel

ethan’s got a sandwich and apple juice but he’s just staring off at nothing and cal goes in and starts talking about how the infuser fundraiser has inspired him to do something good for the hospital and asks if he was to hold a blood drive whether he could count on ethan to donate but i don’t think ethan even registers that he’s there let alone that he’s speaking to him😭

cal was seriously planning on holding a whole blood drive under the guise of doing something good for the hospital just to get ethan’s blood so he can get him tested before he even knows about anything😭

i really don’t think that cal seriously considered that ethan might have huntington’s and not him because what exactly was he planning to do with ethan’s results at this point??? it seems to me like he wanted to get ethan tested just in case but hadn’t really thought about the fact that it could come back positive

and i think that’s why so many of us figured that it was going to be ethan who had it because it was being set up as cal thinking he has it and thinking ethan didn’t. like i remember seeing posts on here guessing that it was going to be ethan for this reason

“ethan?” “sorry, what?” “right, what’s wrong?” “you’ve made mistakes before haven’t you?” “uh yeah, many, sometimes twice in one night” “urgh” “sorry, okay, i’m listening” “no, no, forget it” “ethan talk to me! what about the blood drive?!” 😭 oh cal sjskdkfk

iirc there was a post on here probably from around the time this aired actually or even earlier idk where someone pointed out how for some reason we see ethan eating/with food way more than we do any other character and it’s always stuck with me. every time he has food i’m like huh. yeah.

he asks zoe if he can skip death and doughnuts because public speaking isn’t his strong suit😭 he’s just like me fr

in the meeting he explains what happened and then zoe wraps it up and he’s like what that’s it? i let a man die! why are you protecting me?! 😭😭😭

also this reminds me of how he didn’t tell dylan the truth about what really happened on the roof because of his mistake with emma but you know what really annoyed me about the fandom response to that was how many people were agreeing that it just made them even. like obviously i love stevie so i didn’t want her to go but people were seriously acting like him making a mistake was equivalent to her actively going after him???? it was 100% in character for both of them to think that but we aren’t supposed to uncritically agree with what mentally ill fictional characters think about themselves!! not to mention everyone (stevie included) seemed to be forgetting that she made a similarly tragic mistake just a few days earlier

anyways that makes me think maybe i should slot a begin again rewatch in where the flashbacks go in this series. actually on second thoughts that might bring too much attention to the continuity errors (there’s only one place it could go but even there it doesn’t fully make sense) so maybe it’s better not to. idk let’s see how i feel when i get there

there’s a kid who’s dad brought him in but he’s locked himself in the car and they’re trying to get him to come out even getting a police officer involved and ethan comes out and, having seen the kid earlier too, is like he’s still not come out? and goes and shouts at him like “if you don’t come out the police will cut your dad’s car up and they’ll drag you out kicking and screaming like a little baby so we can give you the treatment you need!” and the kid immediately unlocks the car and gets out😭😭

cal’s treating the kid but he won’t let him take a blood test because he’s too afraid of needles and cal’s like i might have a solution!

“dr hardy feels so bad about shouting he’s agreed to take this blood test with you” 💀💀💀

he takes ethan’s blood first and ethan’s like “i didn’t feel a thing, are you sure you’ve done it?” so the kid feels better and lets cal take his blood🥺🥺

of course cal pockets ethan’s blood ready to send off for genetic testing without his knowledge🙄 i guess he’s no longer feeling inspired to do something good for the hospital like a blood drive then?

the dad says to ethan “thank you. i mean it, how many people would give their own blood just to help a kid overcome his fear? you’re a good doctor” 🥺🥺 ethan doesn’t look like he believes him though😢

lmaooo max

AHAHSJKDKFJD iain’s cleaning the ambulance in just an apron and dixie comes in like “i was promised underwear” and he’s like “best i could do i’m afraid” and turns round to show his bare arse as dixie calls in louise, rita, and jack

dixie’s got a letter about her hearing from the complaint jess made, even though she later retracted the complaint

oop big mac tells the police that he fought the attacker off because everyone already assumes he did and he doesn’t want to tell them he hid in the toilet and then he had to go and give mercedes the money she needs so she won’t tell anyone. even though if she did tell them she would go to prison???? i guess she’s just relying on mac being too embarrassed to risk it getting out?

lily’s trying to comfort ethan “bad things happen sometimes so don’t blame yourself” “i suppose it’s easier than facing the truth that, actually, the whole system is broken” she looks at the envelope with mrs beauchamp written on it in his hand “what’s that?” “this place suits some people, but i’m not going to be the doctor who chases targets and then pats himself on the back because, yknow, only one patient died needlessly” “we can’t save everyone, ethan” “no, but i am so fed up with a system that doesn’t even give us a chance. i’m tired, lily. i can’t give any more. so, i quit.” 😥😥

[timextoxhajima]

Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [1]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: suggestive material, mentions of alcohol, SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: 2.8k, half of which is probably filth

taglist: @from-xero

{this is a work of fiction}

"i'm sorry, i just... i just don't see you that way."

the boy tries his hardest not to choke (or sob) as he lowers his head, the bouquet of flowers in his hands crinkling when he brings it down to his side.

he huffs, using his tongue to poke the inner sides of his cheeks as his grimace pulls out into a smirk.

you look at him with utmost guilt, fingers awkwardly intertwined with one another as you scan the distraught on his face.

"so..." he slowly nods, looking up from the floor. "not even the most popular person on campus can win you over, huh?"

the label strikes a chord in you.

honestly, you were just waiting for him to say those words. you hadn't expected the campus star boy to confess to you tonight, much less at his own graduation party.

he was two years your senior and frankly way out of your league - leaving you with absolutely no clue how he came about to develop feelings for you.

you had wondered if he was merely capitalising on your growing reputation as the 'innocent heartbreaker'.

the pretty, new, freshman who just couldn't seem to stop heads from turning.

one of those heads was his.

wooseok scoffs, obviously unhappy and dissatisfied with your response.

how dare the pretty freshman reject the hottest boy on campus?

"okay," wooseok nods, still holding out the flowers to you. "at least take the flowers, would you?"

grimly picking the golden-wrapped roses from him, you scan his eyes, glossed with a layer of tears as his nose sours.

"wooseok-"

"no, don't," he interrupts you, sucking in a deep breath as he puffs out his chest. the yelling from outside his bedroom door calls the both of your attention.

"the party's still going on until morning, are you staying?"

with a light shake of your head, you hug the flowers close to your chest. your heart slows down, calming from the fact that he had brought you in here just to confess and not something else you were afraid of.

the guilt sinks in when you realise you didn't trust wooseok all that much.

"okay, well..." he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. the silver shine off the school's logo on the varsity jacket glimmers under the room's ceiling light. "at least stay until we finish the first bottle of vodka? we have games later."

"oh, wooseok, i can't-"

"come on," he reaches forward and grabs your hands, his hands hot and warm. probably from the adrenaline he had to give himself to make this feat. "the first bottle."

you look up from his fingers and at his face, his fringe covering his eyes and casting sharp-angled shadows all over his lids.

your lips part, but before you can even utter a sound, he hops right in and exclaims with a grin on his face. "great! i'll see you around and come find me when you're leaving, okay?"

the smile lines extend from the sides of his nose and down to his lips, the shadow lines on his cheeks shifting as he turns on his heels, hands sliding off yours.

"i'll-" he points to his door, already reaching for the handle. "yeah. bye."

wooseok pulls the door open for him to exit, and right before he can shut the door behind him, his eyes come between the gap to take one last look at you.

the door clicks shut after he moves off first, and you're left with the roses in your arms, standing in the middle of his room, having just rejected the most sought-after bachelor in the school.

looking down at the roses once more, your finger-pads rub against the velvet petals, heart aching for him.

the neon lights in his room were casting a bright blue hue all over the walls and the carpeted ground, trophies for baseball and customised bats decorating almost every corner.

you turn to his bed, thinking of leaving the flowers on the cushion and leaving quietly through his window.

but your train of thought violently snapped into two when the party outside yells, followed by the loud thunking of the bass throughout the house.

the flowers are a reminder of how shit of a person you are.

you didn't ask to be a heartbreaker.

people tend to think you find joy in rejecting the brave ones who get their feelings across but you don't. not at all.

carefully laying the bouquet of flowers back onto his bed, you pull the door of his room open and step out into the hallway, the music blasting like everyone was deaf and hard of hearing.

the crowd in the living room comes into view when you start walking down the stairs - everybody jumping on beat to the likes of superbass and people yelling the all-time classic rap.

your knuckles whiten from gripping onto the wooden railings, unable to return yourself to the party when you've done broken the heart of the host himself.

so you turn on your heels, deciding to return to his room and crawl out through his window - only to be met by someone else.

"party's downstairs."

if you were the innocent heartbreaker...

then eric son was the vicious one - the male, sluttier equivalent of you.

"oh, well... party's not for me," you offer a tiny smile, slightly embarrassed to be caught making a u-turn.

eric tilts his head to the side, holding out an arm and resting it on the wooden railings. you lower your head, taking a step to your left in a bid to walk past him.

but you're stopped yet again by his arm reaching out, palm pressing flat into the concrete as he looks down at you.

you don't realise your fists are clenched (and sweating) until you rub them onto your dress.

"look, eric- i- i had a bad day and i just-"

"so walk out the front door," he raises a single brow, taking a step down and removing his hand off the wooden railing.

your feet fumble around each other in a bid not to topple down the stairs. turning to face you, he forces you to step back to maintain the safe distance between you.

"i don't want to make a scene-" the bad habit of picking your nails returns when your back hits the wall, and eric's standing an uncomfortable distance from you now.

"oh," he lifts his free hand and mirrors the other, keeping your neck between his forearms. but you are the scene. you can't just... leave."

a flustered chuckle runs through your throat as you lean your head back against the wall. "i don't have the time for this."

"make time for me," eric cocks his head to the side and glances down near the bottom of your face. "you can tell me about your bad day."

"i think i'll be fine on my own, thank you," carefully squatting and trying to shrink out from the wall-eric sandwich, your brows furrow as you shift.

but eric son buckles his arm and halves the distance he has between your faces, the sudden surge forcing you back upright.

now his breath is hot on your jaw and you turn away from him, lips pursed into a thin, tight line.

"the 'innocent heartbreaker'," he gently hums, fingers reaching up to play with the curled locks fallen around your upper arms. the fleeting brushes of his skin across yours draw out chills, and a harsh inhale twitches your facial expressions to his liking. "i can see why boys would fall for this."

with your eyes still glued to the party downstairs, you part your lips, wanting to explain yourself.

then eric, with the weight of feathers, reaches up to your chin and tilts it towards him.

his lips are parted as he slides his tongue across his teeth. he sighs softly, eyes travelling from yours to your lips and back up.

by now, you can feel his breath on your philtrum.

"you're pretty," he whispers, almost against your lips.

and your stomach plummets when he pulls away completely, the cool air rushing in to replace the bodily heat.

without breaking eye contact, even for a single second, eric pushes himself off the wall. lips drawn out into a wide smile, he adjusts his jacket and runs his hand through his hair.

"but not that pretty."

you don't realise your heart's racing until you feel your chest heaving, unknowingly panting from the unruly interaction the vicious heartbreaker has just provided you.

the world finally seeps back into view and into complete perfect audio, the music finally rumbling through you again when your eyes trail after eric, walking into the crowd jumping in the living room.

the taste of iron seeps out from the inside of your lips, and you dart your tongue across the mark that your teeth have left on your flesh.

clearing your throat and shaking the thought of eric out of your head, you turn back up the steps and head back into wooseok's bedroom.

the blue hues of the room start to sink into your consciousness again, the yellow shade of the bouquet wrap looking more like green under the lighting.

you take a moment to fester - over wooseok, over your reputation, over eric.

college just started and here you were, feeling guilty over something that wasn't even your fault.

the final decision comes to rest on your fingers in the form of pulling wooseok's window open, carefully lifting your feet and crawling under the glass.

now, troublemaker was playing, muffled but definitely loud enough to be heard at least 3 houses down the road. you climb onto the roof of his garage, eyes scanning to cars parked outside and along the road.

you stride to the side where you know wooseok had a wooden plating attached to one of the walls, fake vines intertwined between the planks.

it's a relief when your feet meet the concrete ground, and nobody was in sight - until you back up into someone's chest and you turn to find eric, again.

"what in the world-"

he cuts you off by grabbing your waist, slotting his lips between yours and holding your chin to align your faces.

you were nearly bought into it, but the consciousness seeps back into you and you rip your face off his, palms one his chest with his hands still on your waist.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"i could ask you the same thing."

"you already know I'm leaving."

"you can't leave just yet."

"why the hell not?"

"because I'm not done with you."

with a low huff, he hoists you up onto his hips, lips crashing onto yours as he walks you backwards, your shoulder blades hitting the wall where you had climbed down from.

there's a gentle rattle when he keeps you up against the wooden planks, his palms riding the skirt of your dress up and over your hips.

his fingers slide under the material of your underwear hugging your pelvis, hot skin gripping onto the flesh of your rear.

then you hear a tear amongst the mess he's making on your lips, and the material of your underwear loosens.

"what the-"

"shh," he smirks, now turning his head into your neck to nip on your jaw. your chest heaves from the sensitivity, the fluttering sensation of his lips on your neck drilling chills all through you. "make a sound and everyone will know you couldn't say no to me."

conscience returns to you for a split second.

"eric- we can't-"

before you can finish your sentence, eric drags the thin material out from under you and dangles it before you, his eyes clouded and dark.

the darkened patch of material on your underwear washes your face in pink and heat.

"you were saying?"

your stomach plummets, and you now register the coolness on your core. eric smiles, rolling up the material to shove it into his pocket.

"eric-" your fingers dig into his left forearm as they return to the wall by your head, his right carefully undoing his belt.

the clink of the metal followed by the zipper coming undone forms a knot in your stomach already, then his fingers coming to spread your neediness all over you forces a sharp whimper up your lungs.

"I've done nothing..." he shakes his head, sliding a single finger up and down your core. "and you are so wet."

he lifts his finger from under your skirt, his fingers glistening under the sharp, fluorescent lighting.

your hooded lids are just about tearing with the overwhelming ache that's throbbing through you, and he makes it worse by running his tongue all over his finger.

eric's pride swells when a whine escapes your throat, and he presses himself into you, chest against yours with his hands digging into your thighs. your arms circle around his shoulders, pulling him closer for a deep, slow kiss.

he prods against you, the throbbing ache spiking when his manhood rubs against your core. groaning into the kiss, your entire being squirms between him and the wall with the muffled music still blasting from the living room.

he doesn't bother to wait for you before he finds his manhood and aligns it with your entrance, gently prodding before sliding himself in like it was meant to be.

he buries himself inside you by holding your thighs around his hips even tighter, drawing a low and prolonged moan from your lips.

eric pulls away, pressing his forehead into yours to let you breathe. but he finds some kind of sadistic pleasure when he pulls his hips away, only to slam right back in, earning a sharp yelp from you.

"go any louder, princess, and i won't be the only one enjoying this."

he grins to himself, licking his lips before diving into your neck and picking at all the right spots. every kiss and nibble earned him a moan or a mewl and it ruins your pride over and over to know that you had just broken someone's heart tonight.

yet you were outside that someone's house, letting eric rail you like he owned you.

your fingers claw and grip at his shirt as you feel your back jerk and rock against the wooden plank. with every thrust he offers you, he sounds like he's laughing and panting at the same time, the hot breath on your neck making you writhe in a guilty pleasure.

he offers a few slower thrusts before grabbing your chin to look at him, eyes slightly fucked out and your thighs tired from keeping your body locked to his.

slowly pulling out and sliding back in, he takes the time to revel in the way your brows furrow and your lips fall apart, your curled hair now a mess around your chest and shoulders.

"that's it, princess," he leans into your ear and coos. "tell me how good that feels."

unable to form a coherent word in your head, you whine in response, pulling his face to yours and planting your lips onto his with every ounce of energy left in you.

his hands fumble under your skirt and find your sensitivity, pressing his thumb flat onto you. the pressure jerks you upwards and he takes the opportunity to reposition himself, changing the angle ever so slightly.

by some miracle, the tip of him buried inside you finds the magic spot, and when he picks up his pace, the knot starts to find you in eternal bliss.

eric pulls away again, huffing as he thrusts himself into you, fingers flicking and abusing you as if your legs weren't already shaking and convulsing around his hips.

"good girl," his breath is heavy on your jaw as he plants a few wet kisses there, his pants bringing you to some newer heights. your vision starts to fade into white with a few more thrusts and his fingers dig into your thighs when your lower body starts to spasm.

muscles flexing, your entire body squirms and trembles as you meet your high.

then eric hurriedly pulls out, the hot fluid dribbling all over the ground under you.

while you come down from your high, eric's strained grunts rumble through his torso under your arms. the vein that popped out on his neck was still there, and your senses only allow enough for you to focus on eric now.

he bites on his bottom lip and pushes his hair back with a deep inhale. he turns to you, eyes wide open and clear.

"not such an innocent princess now, are you?"

[spockandawe]

Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting. 

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned. 

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

[daydream-believin]

Recipe For Disaster 2: Electric Boogaloo

Summary: Jim is NOT happy about his sister’s boyfie. (not a part two despite the confusing name)

Warnings: swearing, a gilmore girls reference, divorce kids got daddy issues

Word Count: 5560, my longest yet woohoo

A/N: here it is im finally done with this. i- im tired. i love jim he was my favorite until doux came along but he can be a little bitch boy sometimes. and the word of the day is giggle im so sorry

tags: @alovesongshewrote​ hope i can deliver now that you have expectations lmao

It was a good Saturday. The trollhunters trio had gotten an early start on training, and thus Blinky had released them for an early lunch. It was a particularly successful day, with Claire really getting the hang of the shadow staff, so they decided to not make poor Jim cook for once and go out for a treat. And Toby really wanted a sandwich from Benoit’s.

They opted to walk to downtown instead of biking, as a way to cool down. Plus, it would give them time to digest their food on the walk back, before they returned to training once again. Although that was more of a problem for Jim and Toby, since Blinky wanted Claire to start reading a certain book this afternoon. She’d be in the library, quietly sitting while the boys go back to running around and fighting. The spring flowers had just started returning to Arcadia Oaks. The flowerbeds that decorated town added a cheery air to the day. Happily, Jim ran up in front to kick a pebble as they came up towards the bistro around the corner. He stopped in his tracks.

“Is Y/n’s boss flirting with her?”

The other two teens came around Jim to see. Y/n laughed at Douxie’s dumb joke and put her hand on his shoulder.

“And is she flirting back?” Jim asked incredulously.

Claire didn’t take this the same way Jim did. “Aww, that’s so cute.”

“No it’s not. It’s weird. And wrong.” Jim asserted.

“What are you talking about,” Claire lowered her brows with an annoyed tone.

“No, no. he’s right. Y/n doesn’t flirt. Or date. I’m not even sure she crushes.”

Claire shook her head, “That can’t be true, TP. She’s like, old. You two just didn’t notice it.”

“Oh, no, we noticed it. She went to every school dance alone, even senior prom.” Toby added. “It was kind of sad to be honest.”

“Remember that time that big movie star came into town? He was the prettiest guy I’d ever seen, and Y/n was just like ‘eh he’s okay, I guess’. We literally had a fight over that one.” Jim chuckled.

“I literally can’t imagine Y/n in a relationship. She’s just too all over the place.”

Claire rolled her eyes and gestured her hands towards the scene in front of them. “Well, she seems to be doing just fine now.”

Jim didn’t know why, but this made him a little huffy. “Whatever. It’s just a crush, anyways. She’ll get over it soon enough.”

Douxie leaned over to give Y/n a quick peck goodbye before he headed into Mr. Benoit’s to start his shift. He had swapped shifts with one of his coworkers for the day, so he could have the evening off. Y/n headed back to the bookstore. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she left, smiling to herself. The three trollhunters still stood right where they were, staring.

“I don’t think it’s just a crush, Jimbo.”

Jim was outraged. How. How was this happening. He could understand her not telling her family, their mother could be a bit nosy sometimes when it came to her daughter’s personal affairs. But his sister had often said she didn’t have enough time to pursue a love life whenever their mother probed her. There was no way she just started having said time. Right? It was curious, too, that out of all the people she could have chosen in Arcadia, she chose Douchey. That guy had girls fawning over him wherever he went. There was no way Y/n was into that.

Come to think of it, Y/n had been acting really strange ever since she had gotten that job at the bookstore. It was so easy to make her laugh now. She was actually wearing her hair in different styles instead of her signature. She actually enjoyed Barbara’s cooking. Or at least complimented it a lot now. Still a baffling action nonetheless. It was if she was experiencing the side effects of something. And that bookstore reeked of magic. Magic had the power to drive people out of their minds. He’d had plenty of first-hand experience with that. This whole situation was fishy.

“Well, I think it’s so cute they’re together now.” Claire said cheerily. He loved her but she wasn’t exactly the best when it came to making judgement calls. Hell, the fact that she was dating him after all he’s put her through was enough proof of that.

“Well, I think its magic.” Jim deadpanned.

“What.” Claire snapped.

“He’s got a spell on her! Some sort of enchantment. A charm!”

Toby was too tired from training today to deal with this. “I’ll agree, he does have charm, have you had him as a waiter? But not the kind of charm you’re implying here, Jim.”

“Douxie is my magic teacher, Jim. I promise, he’s a really nice guy.”

“Nope. There’s no way my sister would be into a guy, let alone a guy like,” He tried to find the right words but just sputtered, “Like that!” he motioned to poor Doux, who was changing the specials sign out front. Douxie was one of those bistro employees who always got asked to draw up the sign because his calligraphy was so good. Doux had to admit, his handwriting was messy compared to Merlin’s standards, but to Mr. Benoit’s he was a calligraphy god.

Toby looked Doux up and down. “I don’t know man, Y/n is kind of alternative.”

“Yeah, who do you think helps me dye my hair all the time? And sneaks me into concerts?” Claire added.

“Okay. I get that. But he’s just not good enough for her.” Jim said through gritted teeth.

Toby sighed. “Then who is?” he asked wearily.

Jim got defensive. “I don’t know! A prince, maybe. One that’s in line to be king. Not one of those waiting-for-a-brother-to-die ones, but a real one.” He nodded his head like any of that was realistic. “Definitely not just some wizard who works in a bookstore.”

“She’s just some wizard who works in a bookstore, though.”

There was no getting through to Jim. “Think about it guys, my sister, suddenly getting cozy with a magic man? Bushigal. She’s under a spell. I’m going to fight him.”

“No, no you’re not,” Claire asserted, “You’re going to have lunch like we planned AND you’re going to be civil.” Claire and Toby both grabbed one of his arms and dragged him towards the bistro.

***

The hostess guided them to the table. Claire sat across from Jim and Toby. They were handed the menus. Claire showed interest in the lunch specials while Toby flipped to the sandwiches. Jim just brooded while he stared unblinking into the first page. And by chance, and by the fact that this scene would be boring and or pointless if not, Douxie was the waiter for said table. After handing off the check to one of his other tables, he waltzed over to the trio, happy to see his protégé.

“Ello lads, how’s it going? How’d that test go today, Claire?” Douxie ruffled her hair. Jim narrowed his eyes at the sight.

“Horrible! I bombed it for sure!”

Toby rolled his eyes, “You say that about every test, Claire, and then it turns out you aced them.”

“No I mean it this time, TP. I didn’t even finish the last three questions. It was so bad!”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Douxie chuckled. Oh to have the problems of these youngsters. Claire and Toby got into some sort of glare match where they both just made more and more aggressive funny faces at each other. Both finally conceded and they fell into giggles. Douxie was glad to see Claire having so much fun, but he noticed someone else at the table who was not having said fun. His apprentice Claire’s boyfriend, his master’s champion, and his darling Y/n’s brother, looking like his dog ate his homework, or whatever teenagers got angry about these days.

“Cheer up, lad.” Doux grinned at Jim, “Hangry? I get that. You look like you could use a good meal.”

“Well strangely I am in a cafe”

Claire kicked Jim under the table. He tried his best to stifle the grunt of pain. “Don’t mind Jim, he’s a tad grumpy from a bad training session. And we’ll take waters all around.” She smiled. Doux hurried off to go get their glasses.

In the end, Toby couldn’t pick a sandwich. He had three favorites and couldn’t decide between them yet. Jim and Claire had his back. They both got one of them and he got the third. Then they would all share the halves. A good plan. And it was a delicious one. Toby was thankful for his partners.

***

After finishing up training and walking Claire home, Jim and Toby went their separate ways. Toby had promised his Nana he’d go with her and her boyfriend to see a play in the next town over. Jim had promised his mother he’d be home for a family dinner. He wasn’t able to be home in time to cook, so this was going to be a roulette wheel when it came to food. He was betting on Y/n. As he came to the front door, he cracked it first and smelled the air before going inside as to make sure his candid reaction wouldn’t be bad. The aroma coming from the house was heavenly. Alright, Y/n. Jackpot.

Jim swung the door open wide as he strutted in. Everyone was in the kitchen, it looked like. He put his bag up and called to his family that he was home. Which was met with the two voices he had expected, but one he hadn’t. And it was a voice he didn’t want to hear right now. Douxie. Hisirdoux fucking Casperan. In his house. In his kitchen. In his territory.

Jim immediately felt his muscles tense up. He took a deep breath and put on his best fake smile before heading into the kitchen. Y/n was sautéing something over the stove. Barbara was stirring something which meant that she had insisted on helping and Y/n had done the equivalent of giving your younger sibling a game controller that wasn’t plugged in. The offending wizard was leaning over the bar counter from the other side, chatting away as if he had any reason to be here.

Once Y/n caught sight of Jim, she bubbled. “Jim! How was hiking? You three have fun?” she knew where he actually spent his Saturdays but they had to keep up the rouse for their mom. While Y/n particularly didn’t care for the lying, she also agreed with Jim that some things are best kept from worrisome mothers. Barbara gave her enough shit already for her frequent homecomings from bars and shows in the wee hours of the morning with scrapes and bruises. If their mother knew about Jim’s marginally more dangerous late-night escapades, she might actually have a nervous breakdown.

“Oh yeah, it was great. We saw a deer. It had a baby with it.”

“Majestic.” She turned and gestured to the man at the counter, “You remember Douxie, right?”

“Of course,” Jim said through gritted teeth forced into a smile. “In fact we just saw each other at the bistro earlier today.”

A timer went off. Y/n expressed her delight that something in the oven was done. Barb got some plates out of the cabinet, while Y/n pulled the main course out of the oven. She handed Jim the plates and silverware and sent him to go set the table. Jim supposed this was better than having to talk to Douxie. Until Douxie insisted on helping him. Great.

“So, Jim, I’ve heard a lot about you-”

“I’m sure you have.” Jim cut him off. Douxie was a bit confused, but figured he was still grumpy like he was earlier at the bistro. He’d leave the moody teen alone then. Perhaps he be in a better mood after getting some food in him and spending time with his family. Doux would try for conversation again then.

Jim did not get any less grumpy, to Douxie’s dismay. And Y/n’s. Y/n really needed both her family members to like her boyfriend. They were all each other had, and any strife would put a strain on their tiny closely-knit family unit. Y/n loved Douxie, and she wanted Jim and Barbara to love him to. To accept him. It would help put a validity to her feelings. If they liked him then she had made the right choice. She could never be with someone her loved ones hated. And as a bonus, it would be nice if she could give Douxie the family he never had. He deserved as much.

Luckily, Barbara had taken quite a liking to Arcadia’s most charming waiter. Jim however, was subtly hostile. Or at least he thought he was being subtle. It was very apparent to the other three at the table. As Douxie was animatedly telling Barb some story that she was laughing very hard at, Y/n turned to glare at her brother. Jim tried to feign innocence. Y/n rolled her eyes and put some more salad on her plate. Jim noticed the bracelet on her wrist. Funny, she had never been one for jewelry before. But she started wearing this one everyday right around the time she started working at the bookstore. Interesting.

Douxie finished up his story and turned his attention to Jim. He’d try once again to engage the trollhunter. He knew how important this was to Y/n. Douxie was going to make this little man like him if it was the last thing he did.

“I saw the school play you were in a couple weeks ago, Jim. You were quite the actor, and I know Shakespeare’s tough. Have you ever thought of going into it professionally? Claire’s told me she wants to. You two could be one of those celebrity power couples.”

Jim just offered a short thanks that was less hostile but not exactly enthusiastic either. Well, at least Doux was getting somewhere. It’s a start. Y/n was content with this. Jim would warm up to Douxie eventually. It didn’t have to be right away, even if she would have liked that.

After the dinner conversation had died down and the food long gone, Y/n set out to clear the table and clean the kitchen. Barbara also went to help her, but Douxie assured her he’d take care of it. He was a world class waiter after all. He stacked up the plates as Y/n grabbed the dinner dishes. And so the two set off to the world behind the wall, to clean or canoodle or whatever. Jim wasn’t too keen on thinking about it. His mother pulled him into the living room to sit on the couch and preceded to ask him twenty questions about Claire. He was almost happy when the lovebirds came back.

And then his mother made them all play some card game for three hours straight. All while the lovebirds flirted away right in front of them. It was like they had no shame. This guy just had to have Y/n under a spell or something, Jim was sure of it. There was no other explanation. As she giggled at another one of Douxie’s stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, Jim felt sick.

Finally it came time for that douchebag to leave. Jim rolled his eyes at his mother and sister fawning over Doux as he made his way to the door. He slinked over behind them to watch the guy leave and make sure that he left. As Douxie went through the door he gave Y/n a quick peck and said the stupidest line Jim had ever heard. Who does this guy think he is. Once the door was shut and Doux had indeed walked away, Jim scoffed.

“Bet that guy has a bank of pickup lines he’s memorized. There’s no way he came up with that on the fly.”

***

Jim was furious. He fought like a madman during training. Draal was just making it worse by encouraging it; he really liked the kid’s fire today. Draal had no idea what was up with him right now, but Jim was giving it his all. The trollhunter was rarely this aggressive. Blinky looked on as Jim growled and shouted with every strike. He hadn’t seen his son frothing at the mouth like this before. It was glorious. Keep this up and Angor Rot won’t know what hit him.

Claire and Toby were also training, with Arrggh, albeit with not even half as much gusto as Jimbo. They were also a wee bit distracted, trying to wind Jim down from said gusto. He came over to where they were to get some water. Taking this opportunity, Toby tried appealing to him once again.

“Dude, give it a rest, this is just like how you got all pissy about your mom dating Strickler.” Toby was exasperated.

“Y/n can’t date guys, my mother can’t date guys, no men should be frequently invited into our household! No boys allowed! Me and Toby are the only boys allowed!” Jim growled. He stormed off across the keep to go land another hit on Draal.

Blinky blinked. He was taken aback at the hostility from his charge. “So, do either of you have any idea as to what that was about.”

“Right now the winning theory is that this is like, about how heartbroken his mother was when his dad left, so now he doesn’t want that to happen again or something,” Claire sighed. Her teacher really was a good guy. Lonely too. Just like Y/n. They were going to be good for each other. Her boyfriend should be happy for them. Jim took a particularly dirty swipe at Draal. Toby grunted in sympathy. “Or maybe Douxie just poked Arcadia’s most possessive bear.”

***

Jim and Toby were walking downtown, enjoying their free time after a trollhunting mission on this fine Sunday afternoon. That is, until they came in sight of the bookstore. Jim felt that bitter feeling in his stomach again. He knew Y/n wasn’t working today. Douchey would be all alone. Now was his chance to confront this and end it before it got any worse. Toby noticed the malice in his eyes as he stomped towards the bookstore.

“Woah dude, what’re you doing?”

“I’m just going to have a little chat with Mr. Casperan that’s all.”

Toby threw his head back in exasperation. “There no talking you out of this is there?”

“Nope”

The bell jingled as they walked in. The bookshop smelled like Christmas. And Jim was about to try and talk politics with his racist uncle at the dinner table. Douxie came over and greeted them cheerily.

“Good afternoon, lads. Looking for any book in particular?”

“I’m not a part of this. I just happen to be with him physically.” Toby quickly asserted. Douxie quirked a brow at the odd statement. Jim pushed forward aggressively. Doux had the sense to back away from the boy.

“I’m onto you, wizard. Just what did you do to my sister? Did you slip her a love potion? Is that bracelet she’s been wearing charmed?” Jim growled. Toby cringed on the sidelines.

Douxie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“There’s no other explanation for your ‘relationship’. You’ve got to be magicking her. And I won’t just sit here and let it happen. That’s my sister and it’s my job to protect her from creeps like you.”

Douxie took in the boys words, and a deep breath. He tried his best not to sound too defensive and provoke the kid further, “Okay, wow. That’s quite an accusation there, friend.” He moved away from where the boy had backed him into a bookshelf. “You know, out of all that you just implied, the part I think I’m most offended by is the fact that you’d think I’d mess with Y/n’s free will like that.”

Douxie straightened some books on a nearby display. “You know Jim, when it comes to love-” Jim stormed out of the bookstore before Doux could take his lecture any further, grabbing Toby by the arm so he’d follow. Toby mouthed a big ‘I’m sorry’ to Doux as he was pulled out of the store.

***

Jim’s pencil felt abused. He was furiously scribbling the answers to his homework with a heavy hand. He still had a lot of pent up rage, even after accosting poor Doux. After snapping his lead for the seventh time in the hour, Jim decided that switching subjects to Spanish instead of math for a bit might help him calm down. He moved to his bed to start the assigned reading. He laid on his stomach, propping up his head in his hands to see his textbook. His blue eyes perused the paragraphs punctuated by cheesy cartoons. He was halfway through the third page when a knock came at his door. Taking a deep breath, he called for whoever it was to let themselves in. His sister stepped into view.

Jim ran a hand through his dark hair. Here comes the scolding. He didn’t even have to ask if Y/n had heard about what he’d done today. If Douxie himself hadn’t told her then Tobes certainly did. Jim wasn’t proud of it, now that it was all said and done. He knew he deserved whatever Y/n was about to dish out. He sat up and crisscrossed his legs. She pulled his desk chair over and sat backwards in it so that she was facing him on the bed.

That’s it. No scolding came. She just sat and looked at him, neutral faced. He squirmed at the nothing. She lifted up the coffee mug in her hands and took a slow sip, not breaking eye contact with him. Jim began to sweat. He tried to avoid her gaze by looking down at the floor, but he could still feel her eyes upon him. Sighing, he had to admit defeat.

“Okay, so I do feel bad about what I said to Douxie today.” He looked back up to meet Y/n’s eyes. She raised a brow. “It was wrong of me to jump to conclusions like that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n appeared to be satisfied by that. A smile spread across her face and she nodded to him. She stood up, and ruffled his hair on her way out. Still refusing to break her silence, she motioned for him to follow her downstairs.

***

Y/n set her coffee cup down on the table. She pulled another mug out of the cabinet for Jim. Grabbing the coffee pot from its nest under the coffeemaker, she filled Jim’s mug and topped off her own. Sliding the mug across the table to Jim, she sat down. Jim could smell the aromas of the several colorful dishes baking that he could see through the screen of the oven door. Strange, it was already half past nine. There was cinnamon in the air, so at least one of those dishes contained dessert. Jim’s stomach growled at the thought.

“You know I’m not the one you should have to apologize to, Jimbo.”

“I know, I know,” He looked at the ground, “I’ll go talk to him tomorrow after school.”

Silence filled the kitchen again. Y/n took a sip of coffee. This conversation was going to be hard. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She took yet another long sip of coffee to figure out a good enough way to word this. She took a breath.

“So, uh- listen Jimbo. I- I know it’s tough, ya know, with it just being us. And our family’s tight because of it. But you can’t get so protective that new people can’t join it. Or even try.”

Jim took a breath, “I know it’s just, I-, what happens when we, when you, get so attached to him, and he decides that he doesn’t care for you anymore. When he turns out to be bad. When he just disappears. Like- like they do.”

“Oh, Jim,” She reached across the table for his hand. “That’s my risk to take, Jim. I fully recognize that what I’m doing is hazardous and I could get hurt really bad. But I still chose to do it. I choose it every day. We all do, when we fall in love.”

Jim took a sip and lingered, staring into his cup. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” He chuckled, “I know I’d be devastated if Claire ever wizened up and left me.”

“Look, you gotta trust me okay? Douxie isn’t dad or Strickler. I promise. He’s kind. I trust him. After you apologize, I think you really should start to make an effort to get to know him. If not for me, for Claire dude. And I think you’ll really like him. Promise you’ll give him a chance?”

Jim sighed in defeat. “Alright. I promise.”

She stood up and stretched out her back, making those stretching noises that people do. She checked the food in the oven. The buns were ready, but the quiche still needed a few minutes. She took out the pans and put them on the cooling rack. After fanning them for a few seconds, she turned to Jim, “So you want a spinach bun or a cinnamon bun?”

“How is that a question?” Jim laughed.

“Spinach bun it is then,” She teased as she tossed him the cinnamon one.

“What’s all this for anyway?” He gestured to the oven and the buns.

“Oh, uh, its actually for a date tonight?” She looked warry of how he’d react.

“Okay,” He guessed now would be as good a time as ever to start letting this go, “You crazy kids have fun.” Y/n laughed, relived.

Douxie had just finished up the sweeping and was ready to close up. As he headed to towards the front doors, he took one last look around the place to make sure he didn’t miss anything. All clean and tidy. Whoever opened tomorrow would appreciate it. He flipped the neon sign from open to nope and started locking up. Which is when his girlfriend pounced on him and almost gave him a heart attack. She just appeared out of thin air to tackle him into a hug. Scared the living daylights out of him. Y/n apologized profusely when she noticed him freak out but was still snickering between sorries so she probably didn’t mean it. He asked her just what the hell she was doing here and she picked up a picnic basket that was on the ground to show him.

“I just knew a certain wizard hadn’t eaten yet tonight.”

***

Y/n felt the ground beneath her back through the picnic blanket. The new spring growth had made them a cushion of sorts. Her head rested in the crook of Douxie’s shoulder as his arm was wrapped around her. It was nice here. Comfy. She could smell his hair and feel his chest move as he breathed. Their heartbeats made a nice rhythm to accompany the cricket song and the noise of the trees swaying. The stars were so lovely tonight. Stellar.

Douxie broke the quiet. “So I brushed up on my astrology.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/n quirked her brow. Astrology was one of her biggest interests. She’d loved it since her grandmother had given her a book about it when she was small. It was a well-worn, well-loved book. Her grandmother had handwritten things in the margins too. She’d been talking Douxie’s ears off about it during work earlier that week. Something was just so fascinating about how there were gorgeous balls of light in the sky that could tell you the future. There really was magic embedded in the fabric of the universe. It was sweet that he would care enough to learn about her interests. Very sweet indeed. The fact that he went out of his way just so he could talk to her about something she loved? Tooth-rotting. She wasn’t sure if her heart sped up because she was excited to talk about astrology or because of the sugar rush he just gave her.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve needed to look at constellations, we do have GPS now, but I think I remember enough,” He pointed to the sky, “That’s Pisces, right?”

“Yes!” Y/n couldn’t stop herself from smiling so wide her cheeks hurt.

“And that’s Aries, which marks the beginning of spring,” He looked back at Y/n who nodded to him, “oh, and look! We can see Venus tonight.”

“Hey Douxie, I love you. And You’re really making me want to kiss you right now.”

He chuckled and wiggled his eyes brows teasingly, “Ah, yes, I am aware of the effect I have.” She rolled her eyes and put her hand on his face to push him away. If he saw the blush creeping up on her, he’d just get flirtier. She wasn’t sure she could handle that. Something caught her eye and instantly stole her attention.

“Look! A shooting star! Make a wish Doux.” She pointed to the streak of light that flashed.

“I don’t need wishes when I’m here with you, Love.” If her face was pink before it was bright red now.

Y/n hid her face in her hands, “No! You were supposed to say something silly,” She came back up to look him in the eyes, “not something that makes me want to kiss you even more.”

He leaned his head in closer, “Well, what’s stopping you, Y/n”

Well, that was obviously a dare. She couldn’t not kiss him now. So she did. They melted into it instantly. At first it was sweet and slow, but they got a bit hungrier, and the kiss got a bit sloppier. Douxie smelled like the bookstore, Y/n loved the smell of the bookstore. It was everything safe in her life. He was everything safe in her life. Her best friend. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. He loved how her lips just fit together with his perfectly. Y/n Lake was everything he’d been waiting for all these years. Soft and kind, with such a beautiful heart. Not to mention, a badass. Yet, even with all his ancient baggage, she still cared for him. Made him feel like new again. Out of all the wizards of Arcadia Oaks, she chose him. He still couldn’t believe it. They pulled apart way sooner than either of them wanted, but they did have to breathe, so it had to be done. Locked in Douxie’s gaze, Y/n broke the intensity to giggle.

“But really, I was setting you up for a joke. You know what you could have done with that, Doux?” She teased.

“I’ll remember that for next time, Love.”

“Ah, they’re super rare. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one in all my stargazing years.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time to see the next one. And the next one. All the shooting stars you want. Only seeing them every few decades could make them a special little thing for us.” He said so nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just implied that he expected their love to last for countless decades. As if it were a given. Suddenly it hit her. She could live thousands of years by his side. She would live thousands of years by his side. This was it. She wasn’t even sure humans could turn this vivid a shade of red. Y/n’s heart was gonna pop if it beat any harder.

“Stars, are you just hellbent on making me combust tonight? It too hot out here for this.” Douxie just laughed, a twinkle in his eye. She focused on her beloved stars to calm her down. She sighed, “The stars really are beautiful tonight.”

“You know what else is beautiful?”

“Me?”

“You- aww, you’ve heard that one.”

Y/n’s snort rung in the air. So, he does just have a bank of pick-up lines he’s pulling from. Interesting. Guess it must be tough having to be Arcadia’s most charming waiter. They stilled again. The comfortable silence embraced them. And they could have basked in it all night, if Douxie had not a burning question he had been waiting to ask his beloved.

“So- uh,” She looked to him expectedly, “Do you think there’s life out there?”

Y/n tried not to laugh too hard with Douxie’s very serious tone, “Yeah, yeah I do.”

Now it was Douxie’s turn to smile so wide his cheeks hurt. “Really?”

“Yeah,” She said, “I think it’d be kinda arrogant to assume that with all that vastness up there that we’re the only ones who exist.”

“That’s a really good point.” Douxie said excitedly. He pulled her tighter into his embrace and snuggled. “I think I’m going to use that on Zoe next time she tries to tell me that I’m crazy and aliens aren’t real.”

“Yeah Babe! Win that argument!” Y/n encouraged.

She peppered his face with kisses. That big smile stayed on his face as he closed his eyes in delight. He repaid her with a nose kiss. And she repaid that by starting another snogging session.

***

Little did they know that shoot star was really aliens akiriddion spaceship crash 3below wait shit the akiriddions landed in like season two and ive set this in one ugh just pretend like this makes sense hfhadhiufs

[elindae-writes]

Ok, this is all about your headcanons. Is Starscream the oldest/youngest/middle member of his trine? Did he get his trine before or after losing Skyfire? During his time in the Decepticons? How did he meet his trinemates? Was there a cool ceremony? Just tell me everything about Seekers! (Without major spoilers, of course.)

He’s the youngest and he trined Skywarp and Thundercracker after he lost Skyfire and also after he first met Megatron. So they were officially in a trine before they joined the Decepticons. He convinced them to join the ‘Cons and without spoiling too much now bitterly regrets roping them into joining Megatron.

The scenes in which he meets the boys and trines them are going to appear later on, maybe during the Orion Pax arc, so I don’t want to spoil those, but I will gladly indulge your request for cool Seeker facts.

Seekers think in three dimensions and not two due to them being flyers and always having to ascend/descend. This is part of the reason they are so claustrophobic, it’s because they are highly attuned to sensing what’s above them at all times and are therefore hyperaware of when the ceiling is too low.

In Seekercant the word for “grounder” is just “taxi-er” because whenever airplanes are about to take off they taxi around first, so Seekers basically just see grounders as wingless bots who taxi everywhere without taking off.

Seekers are unusual in that they see their alt-modes as their true natural forms and think of their bipedal root-modes as their actual alternate modes. This is weird even by flyer standards.

Seekers used to go on giant migrations. I haven’t entirely thought this out because I’m not sure where they’d actually migrate to--maybe they’d just all instinctively fly up and around Vos without leaving the city, or maybe they’d go off and visit ancient older nesting sites built by ancient Seekers. Either way I just like the imagery of thousands of Seekers blackening the skies with their numbers and then the sad image of Starscream trying to complete a grand Seeker migration all by himself because there is no one else left. But someone still needs to follow the ancient winds, so it’s gotta be him.

Starscream is tiny by Seeker standards and Dreadwing and Skyquake are actually more average-sized. It’s also my headcanon his RID frame used to be his old frame, so when Megs downsized him he got fussy about it because he genuinely felt like a bit of his Seeker heritage got taken away.

There were a bunch of different towers in Vos and they all had their own slightly different cultures. Seekers from one tower would whistle and chirp in Seekercant in slightly different tones than Seekers from another tower, like the way whales from different pods have their own unique dialects. Starscream’s fellow Seekers from his tower were infamous for speaking real fancy-like, I don’t know why but I just picture them as speaking in weirdly complex, vague, and mystical ways like the elves from the Lord of the Rings. Despite there being hundreds of different dialects each Seeker is capable of instinctively recognizing the dialect you’re speaking and can just tell what tower you’re from. There was also a Seeker equivalent of Australia somewhere in Vos and it was completely full of weird and intense Cybertronian animals, it was just like that one weird tower where all of the odd little drones and robots ended up. I just like the idea of Vosian Australian memes.

Starscream was from a really high-ranking family, aka the equivalent of Seeker nobility, and was maybe in line to become or at the very least is closely related to the Winglord. That’s why it was such a scandal when he got the heck out of Dodge and decided to abandon his proud noble military family so that he could go blow stuff up in a lab in Iacon.

Shuttles have their own culture, but are weirdly symbiotic with Seekers. I just like the imagery of throngs of tiny Seekers who wandered around their towers with the occasional giant shuttle just lumbering through. Shuttles adopted Seekers and vice versa. Seekers were extremely touchy about whoever adopts baby Seekerlings and shuttles were the only non-Seekers who were allowed to adopt them. When Starscream moved out of Vos and got himself a roommate in Iacon his family was like “who?? who is dwelling with you, I refuse to allow you to have a non-Seeker roommate, we’d much rather have you dwell alone then dirty yourself by living with an Iaconian--”

And then Starscream just sent over a picture of Skyfire and then his family just said  “we will make an exception for him because he looks very polite”

Seekers were infamous across Cybertronian for being--I’m not sure if this is the right word--cryptids? They hate using doors, so if you’re a grounder and your Seeker buddy is bopping by for a visit you’ll just hear a soft tap tap tap by your window and you’dlllook over and see your winged friend waiting for you to open it up and maybe you’d shout something along the lines of “THE DOOR WORKS FINE”

And then your Seeker friend would just flare his wings and get all offended and it would be a whole thing--

Seekers very rarely make non-Seeker friends, but when they do they tend to make friendships for life. That is not foreshadowing, no, not at all. Non-fliers back on Cybertron would even leave their windows unlocked for their Seeker friends--even though the door would work just fine.

Another weird thing about Seekers is that they hate it when people actually see them entering or exiting a room. You’ll just turn around and a Seeker will be there, and then suddenly they won’t be, hence their cryptic reputation around Cybertron. They are infamous for being overdramatic and theatrical, but they just think of everybody else as being underdramatic.

They have no concept of personal space when in bipedal mode. When flying they normally have to fly wide apart in order to avoid collisions (military trines or just trines that are really in-synch are the exception, they normally flew only a few inches apart) so when in bipedal mode they make up for the lack of physical contact during flying by skooching up real close to each other when back on the ground. Seekers are very very good at forming neat and orderly lines. They have a tendency to sandwich confused and surprised grounders who are shocked to have their personal space so suddenly taken up by a bunch of pairs of wings.

Back when Vos was intact there was a big debate going on as to the proper way to teach your Seekerling to fly. There were two schools of thought:

Send your Seekerling to a school with safety nets and attentive instructors and teach the Seekerlings to just hover, then ascend three feet off the ground, then five feet, and then so on.

Or just chuck your Seekerling out of a tower 10,000 feet in the air while shouting “fLAP” and then just hoping for the best. That was how Starscream was taught. It’s also how he taught Eradicons to fly. He’d have them walk up to the edge, he’d go behind and just give them a good kick, and then shout “THIS IS THE VOSIAN WAY”

And then they’d return to the deck of the Nemesis, cold and shaking, and ask “why?”

And then Starscream would whisper back even more gently “it’s  t r a d i t i o n”

Whenever Seekerlings were really really tiny, as in only a few weeks or months old, the adult Seekers would transform, then also have their Seekerling transform into a very smol plane, and then they would secure the Seekerling to their back before taking flight. It’s like when that Boeing jet carried space shuttle Endeavour around, but much cuter. Seekers carried their newsparks around on their backs between their wings and their wings would widen in order to create more room. You can actually tell if a Seeker has tended to newsparks by just looking at their back. Starscream babysitted a lot, so he has this modification. I just like the idea of Seekers walking around like possums with like six Seekerlings on their back, they gotta make room, it’s the only way I could think of to accomodate all the kiddos

Seekerlings are like newborn horses. They can get up and run--or in their case, transform and fly--right after being sparked. The moment their systems go online they then immediately fly off and crash somewhere. Seekerling caretakers had it rough.

Seekers had potlucks. Their systems require very fine and refined energon, so they are very good at tasting subtle flavors. In other words, Vos was home to the Cybertronian version of professional chefs. Their energon was famous for being gourmet and it would be served in fine-dining restaurants throughout the rest of Cybertron. But back in Vos they’d just casually serve each other what was essentially gourmet energon during potlucks like it was no big deal. Like imagine going to the neighbor’s potluck and they’re all eating caviar.

Seekers instinctively cluster around each other in multiples of three. Three’s a very a lucky number in their culture and they had a base-six counting system.

Trinebonds are mostly just full of a very intense and platonic brother love, but there were some trines in which you’d have two Seekers adopt a more parental role towards the third, and in some other trines there would be more romance involved, but for the most part they were just bros through and through.

When a Seeker dies the other two feel an agonizing pain, but will eventually re-trine with a new third in an attempt to feel whole again. Seekers who lose both trinemates will tend to have a full-on mental breakdown and will get so stressed that their spark will actually begin to flare erratically, which unfortunately prevents them from re-trining. Seekers who lost both trinemates and yet who managed to pull through the pain and trine again were treated with great respect.

Trined Seekers are capable of sensing what kind of vague mood their two buddies are feeling at any given time. They can detect when their trinemates are in root-mode or alt-mode or when they’re healthy or sick. Seekers will lose the ability to sense their trinebonds when there’s too much distance between them or whenever their trinemates go into a deep coma-like stasis that slows their spark down.

All of the Seekers in a tower would be almost always all distantly related. The Seekers who lived beneath you were your distant cousins on one side of your family and the Seekers who lived above you were your even more distant cousins but like 53 times removed, but still family and therefore still invited to the family potluck!! They’re all like hobbits in that they are obsessed with genealogy and will gladly talk about it for hours on end. Seekers will greet each other by explaining their genealogy. This really confuses grounders.

Some random grounder: “Oh, hi, how are you?”

Starscream, probably: “I AM STARSCREAM SON OF STARFLIGHT SON OF SKYECHO SON OF AIRHALO SON OF SWIFTWING--”

The poor grounder: *softly* “What the fuck”

If you don’t interrupt the Seeker then they will just keep recounting their genealogy on the assumption that you are actually intrigued. This can go for hours. Seekers are mortified when they learn that grounders do not know the names, personalities, likes, dislikes, and favorite childhood snacks of their distant great-great-great-great-great grandfathers.

Orphaned Seekers who didn’t know their genealogy had multiple options: get adopted, then just list off the adopted family’s bloodline, or if they didn’t get adopted then they’d just list off the names of Vos’s mythological heroes and figures, or maybe even just claim Primus as their ancestor (which isn’t even wrong.) This is kind of like how people in ancient times claimed to be descended from gods. The human equivalent of this would be some dude walking up to you and saying “I am Bob, son of Zeus!”

Some Seeker towers had certain naming conventions. Like you’d have one tower full of Seekers who are all named after cloud formations, and another tower full of Seekers named after noises, like “whistle” or “blast,” and you guessed it--maybe even “scream.”

To be honest I’m not sure if I want Starscream to be a very common or very rare name. Vos was made up of ancient warring clans that all united under the first Winglord (he/she took Vos under their “wing” hence the title) and maybe they could’ve been named Starscream? In most human societies everybody and their neighbor always would want to name their kiddos after the current ruler, but in Vos maybe it was very rare and very bold of Seekers to name their child after the current ruler because it would be seen as an attempt to snatch up that ruler’s glory. So to name your Seekerling Starscream would be the Vosian equivalent of naming your son Gaius Julius Caesar. He’s an intense bot so it makes sense that he’d also have a very intense name.

But then again I also like the idea of the Autobots just thinking of Starscream’s name as being weird and rich and odd and  e x o t i c  but then finding out it’s the Vosian equivalent of John Smith and that there were eight Starscreams on any block at any given time.

Maybe Seekers would change their name whenever they have a big event happen to them, like a trining for example. I think a culture obsessed around airflow would be fine with people changing aspects of their identity like that because then you’re being like the wind, flowing and changing with the same wind that carries you. It’s also my headcanon that this is why Seekers change their frames a lot more. Your frame isn’t you, it contains you, and if you change then it would be really weird not to change the way you look too. 

Despite being really lax about some things Seekers can be very very strict and traditional about other things, such as etiquette. If you’re meeting a new Seeker for the first time and you rotate your wings 70 degrees clockwise that means “may the skies of the holy 70th tower of Vos bless you” but if you rotate your wings anti-clockwise it means “I curse your grandfather!” And then Starscream would just gasp in horror and then shout “DO NOT BESMIRCH THE MEMORY OF SKYECHO”

Some Seeker names were common--like, too common. There were a few thousand Skyechoes, Windblasts, and Driftwings who drifted around at any given moment. This made role-call in school very painful. Some caretakers would try to be edgy about it. “Oh, my son isn’t named Driftwing, he’s named Dreadwing!”

Seekers cremated their dead but in the most intense way possible. They took their dead up and just let them burn up in the atmosphere so that they can become one with the sky. This resulted in some pretty spectacular meteor showers.

Same random grounder: “What a beautiful shooting star!”

Starscream, casually: “Oh, that’s my grandpa, SKYECHO SON OF AIRHALO SON OF SWIFTWING--”

Same unfortunate grounder: “wHAT--”

Seekers make noises all the time and are very rarely silent. They hum when content, beep when excited, chirp when riled up, rumble when confused, trill when happy, and so on. Starscream used to be a chatterbox but was forced to repress his chitterings because Megatron would always tell him to shut up. He’s going to trill more and more throughout Unburied, especially around Optimus.

Seeker towers were infamous for their weird architecture. They weren’t designed to ever be wandered around in while in your bipedal mode. No staircases, period. Just extremely tall ceilings and arches with curved corridors everybody flew through with lots of balconies you could land on. There were lots of holes in the wall that they could fly through that led to actual rooms where they would transform and be bipedal (berthrooms, washracks, etc) but then after they slept/ate/partied they were just like “that was fun guys, gotta go” and then just flung themselves out of a hole in the wall over a 1,000 foot drop and then just transformed in midair and flew off. Grounders couldn’t visit the towers due to there being no grounder-friendly infrastructure. Special buildings had to be built near the ground to help accommodate visiting grounders, but you only ever really saw these kinds of grounder-friendly accommodations in towers meant to receive diplomats.

They had bathhouses in their towers, like the ancient Romans but with robots instead of old dudes in togas. Just giant birdbaths basically. Just lots and lots of splashing and chittering.

Seekers preen themselves, their circuitry is delicate and even the slightest of contaminants can cause big problems. That’s why they have such sharp talons---for getting in the small spots. And for stabbing people. That’s a nice bonus, too. They preen each other all the time. There were some regions on their wings that could be preened by anybody, but some other parts of the wings that could only be preened by close friends such as trinemates. So the outer planes of the wing could be preened by just a general buddy, but the actual area where they connect to the back? That’s trinemate-only territory right there. It’s not a sexual thing, just a cultural taboo they had.

When Dreadwing makes his grand debut I think I might have a scene in which him and Starscream are preening each other while angrily bickering, not because they actually like each other, but just because they’re the only Seekers around and Starscream’s had a rock stuck in his wing seam and slag it, Dreadwing is the only bot who knows how to get it out--so it’d just be angry bird bickering and arguing preen time.

“You killed my brother!”

Starscream would then flutter angrily and say something like, “NO, BUMBLEBEE DID, STOP BLAMING ME--please get that rock out of my wing seam k thX--IT WAS THE SCOUT’S FAULT!”

And then Dreadwing would just be like, “Skyquake is dead, and it’s all YOUR FAULT--I also have a rather unfortunate rock located in my wing seam, can you remove that--and it’s because of your cowardice I am now brotherless!”

Seeker talons were actually retractable. Some Seekers would have their talons out literally all the time though, these were Seekers who were high-ranking in the military or who were just on some quest of personal revenge. After the war began they modified their talons to just always be sharp because you don’t want to accidentally retract them when in battle.

I am only just now realizing that this got kind of long, huh. I hope this wasn’t too much!! I might post more Seeker headcanons in the future.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Confessions.”

Busy day, so just something quick for you :) 

“And so you see, it turns out that Senator Palpatine was Darth Sidious the entire time, and he manipulated the entire system into voting him in as emperor using Anikin to destroy the Jedi council and the next generation of Jedi in training thus securing his position as the most powerful man in the galaxy.” 

Sunny turned her head to Look at Adam Who rested against one of her shoulders using the armor slots in her back to support his weight as they walked through the halls. Their time in warp space was generally a very relaxed time, seeing as most operations aboard the ship were generally entirely automated leaving him with no captaining duties, and her with no security duties.

Taking walks had kind of turned into their thing, and Adam seemed determined to catch her up on the last two thousand years of popular science fiction. He swore that he had copies of all of these movies somewhere, but knowing how Adam was with organization, she doubted he would ever find it.

So far though she had heard fantastic tales everywhere from hard core touristic science fiction to space westerns to weird crosses of satirized science fiction disguised as serious science fiction. She wondered if he realized that he didn’t need all the science fiction geekery considering that he was actually captaining a space ship….

But then again she liked listening to him, so saw no reason to stop him. 

There was a silence for a moment before.

“What about the Drev? Do you guys have any stories, myths, oral traditions, anything like that?”

Sunny shrugged thinking, “Not to the degree that humans do, most of it is simply religious in nature to do with creation and the spirits, and how the different fighting styles were discovered”

“Well that sounds interesting. We talking like Kung Fu master meditates in a cave for forty years sort of thing…. Or am i being sacrilegious?”

She laughed, “No, to both. There isn’t a lot of discussion about the topic, they were warriors…. Generally saints, I guess you could say, and mostly the stories follow the same general structure. Their great clan is being threatened by an uprising power, and it seems as if their greater weaponry and numbers are going to destroy the saint’s home, so in a cry of desperation to the spirits, he wanders off into the wilderness. Generally it follows that he, or she, catches sight of a flame, a spore carried on a gust of wind, or the trickling of a stream, and in it they see some sort of movement that reminds them of fighting. Following the prompting of the spirits, and the movement of, whatever it is, they slowly develop a fighting style that is just enough to break the battle and bring their clan to victory.”

He tilted his head before raising his hand.

She shook her head, “Yes, you on the back.”

“He kneed her in the ribs for that before, “Hold on, I was under the impression that there was a fighting style for stone.”

“Yes.”

“So you're telling me that some poor sod was out waiting for the spirits to give him a premonition and he saw…. A rock.”

Sunny laughed, “No! It's not like that.”

He grinned and continued, “And he emulated the movement of the rock.”

“Stop being such a bastard.” She snorted, “It was a mountain, and he noticed the natural veins running through the stone, and the hard lines that they made with each other, ad emulated THAT.”

“Maybe he thought if he stood still long enough, he could confuse them.”

She shook her head at him, and he laughed, “So, what fighting style is your favorite?”

“I don’t know….” She paused, “Good question, problem is that most of the styles were made for people a lot bigger and a lot better at fighting than me. I know you don’t think so, but I’m not exactly a talented fighter.”

He shrugged, “Good, me neither.”

She stopped abruptly nearly flinging him over her shoulder and onto the floor. He would have gone over if he hadn’t grabbed her by the shoulders, “woah there, trying to throw me off now?”

She had her head turned down one of the nearby hallways, and he turned to follow her. A warm sort of orange light was spilling down from the mess hall, and from it, she could hear the roaring of laughter.

They exchanged looks.

“Should we go check it out.”

He nodded, and, still carrying him, they walked down the hall and into the large open room. What they found was a large group of humans gathered around the central table. The laughter came in bursts between moments of narrative form one of the crew members.

Adam leaped down from her back and walked with her across the floor.

Everyone looked up as he approached.

“Alright, what’s so funny, ad why haven't I been invited?” A group of people moved aside to give them a seat.

“Because we were talking about you of course.” Mav said from where she was sitting criss-cross on the table.

“Probably about how handsome and charismatic I am.” he announced taking a seat

She laughed, “Yeah, sure just that, you caught us.”

Ramirez waved a hand and Krill, who popped up from nowhere gave explanation, “Apparently the humans have found an online database full of anonymous embarrassing confessions, and someone made a… what was it… a thread for the ship, They are very funny.”

Adam raised an eyebrow and looked at sunny, “Oh, now I am intrigued.” 

Narobi reached out a hand handing him over the data screen they had been using, “Go on Commander,take a look.”

He glanced down at the screen expectantly one eyebrow raising, “At least once a week I find that I, without fail, accidentally fall asleep on the toilet. I don’t know why it happens, but the last time it happened I miss the announcement that we were coming out of warp and ended up face first on the bathroom floor with my pants around my ankles. It hurt a lot, but I didn’t go to the Doc because I knew he’d ask questions. I will probably have back pain for the rest of my life or until this deployment eds because I am too embarrassed to tell anyone,”

There was an eruption of giggling around the room.

The commander sighed, “Well now what is my boss gonna think when he sees we have installed seat belts on the toilets because of this guy. 

“I am afraid of space, I think I picked the wrong profession, the problem is, I love the work environment and don’t want to leave.” 

The commander looked up, “Ouch son, I am sure we can make life more miserable if it would make you feel more vindicated, jk I’m not going to do that.”

“My favorite era of clothing in 1700s ball gowns, problem is I am a very large man, and have always been too embarrassed by my size to go get one tailored. I think I would look awesome, but I am afraid what the tailors would think about me wasting their time.”

“Mmm, to bad, If you’re here Anon, I support your goals in life. Or lean to sew, whichever comes first.” 

“I don’t know how to tie my shoes. I grew up in a household with very forward fashion, and none of the new shoes have laces, but after joining the army, where all the shoes have laces, I have always been too scared to ask how. I just always shove the ends in my boots and hope no one notices.” 

More giggling.

“I had never thought that that could be a problem.” the captain Said nodding down at the data tablet, “makes sense though, promise I will teach you how to tie your shoes if you want to know, or you could look up some videos.”

Smiling 

He glanced back down, “I can’t poop unless I take my pants completely off, the only problem is, I have to wear a jumpsuit for work, so when I want to go to the bathroom, I have to be practically naked. No one knows about this, not even my wife.”

“Gota make sure you’re movement  isn’t restricted eh?” Came the next giggled comment. 

“Mmm, honestly I would be way to worried about there being an emergency and having to run out pantsless.”  the commander shrugged, “Lets just go ahead and say that I am perfectly fine with my clothing where it is thank you very much.”

Sunny peered over his shoulder to read the next comment doing the Drev equivalent to raising an eyebrow before reading out loud, “I am in love with my boss, but of course I can’t say anything, so they will never, ever know.”

The commander frowned, “Wow, that is sad. That’s making me said, quick, read another funny one.”

“I did it, I ate all the ice cream sandwiches, but to be honest, I had no idea they were for a thing, and just sort of ate them over a period of a few months. I would apologize, but I think I’d get kicked off the ship for such an offence. I’m Sorry commander, but my crime will remain anonymous.”

“You better keep it anonymous.” The commander grumbled, “You'd at least be demoted for that offence.

“When I was a teenager, I once spent a whole night in jail for trespassing because I went to my crushes house to see if I could get her to come out with me. Of course I threw some rocks at her  window to get her attention, however it turned out not to be her window, but her dad’s window….. He is a very fast sprinter.”

The commander looked up at Sunny, “that is a teenage experience I never had, and I am finding that maybe it was a good thing.”

HE looked back down at the data pad, “I flex in front of the mirror every morning  to get myself in the groove.”

The commander shrugged, “Ok, but who doesn't do that, seems like a perfectly healthy pass time to me.”

Sunny took the next one, “I am not a human, but I am a male, so one day I accidentally walked in one one of my female human friends changing. No big deal, but I saw a boob, and I feel really bad about invading her privacy. Can someone help? I don’t know what to do. I think this is a bad thing, but I don’t know the social rules of human conduct.”

That spurred a round of giggling form the humans.

“So wholesome and sweet.” Someone commented

“Don't worry, I’m sure she understands if it was an accident.” 

Commander Vir leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat to read the next one, “I am in love with my best friend, but don’t know how to go about telling them. I am worried that they would reject me and that everyone would think I am gross or weird.”

“That is also sad, come on guys why are you being so sad.”

The crew shrugged and laughed some more.

“I don’t know my left from my right, it is a legitimate medical problem or so I am told, I just never got the hang of it. The only problem is I am an engineer and directionality becomes kind of important when you are helping to maintain the warp core.”

The commander looked up from the data pad, “Well we haven't all died yet, so they must be doing a good job. Though wow guys. “ He grinned, “You’re all some serious social deviants, especially the dude who falls asleep on the jon. You really need to get that checked out.

[mostlikelyshutup]

thoughts while watching the first harry potter:

listen i started this list a little late im ngl but notable thoughts so far are me thinking of dumbledore as a gay idiot and still loving hagrid

do you think hes speaking in parseltongue in the zoo when hes speaking to the snake

forgot boats existed

these idiots do scream a lot dont they

i forgot how light hearted this universe really is in the first couple movies

yer a wizard harry, okay hagrid maybe slide him into it a little better

we get it tuney you have fucking trauma, doesnt mean you should abuse a child

hasnt everyone had their name down since they were born, hagrid? theres a list

i like that his umbrella is pink

are you paying for those damages hargid? stop taking the door off the hinges

though, if the dursleys are, keep breaking shit

speaking about dragons on the the fucking tube, its a miracle harry didnt get in trouble with the ministry sooner

what is hagrid's usual? does anyone know???

fucking Quirrell, cant wait for your epic love story with the dark lord

maybe we should tell the 12 year old how the fuck everyone knows his name, just maybe

they do a great job of getting the wonder down pat

how much money and licensing do you think it took for them to get all these owls on set

ahh yes, antisemitism the bank

how many vaults are in gringotts?? also if harry's vault is the potters vault, a literal like sacred 28 family, one of the original families, and its number 600 something, how many were there before the potters?? did the potters get a vault recently? or is this james and lily's vault?? how rich were james and lily if so??

look at ollivander, crazy tinker uncle, love him

this might be the socialist in me but why do people have to pay for wands if everyone needs one??

why is the dark lords twin wand just sitting around on the shelf, ollie me boy??

do you think thats Harry's true wand or do you think thats because of the horcux thing?? do you harry had to get another wand after he died?? did he? i dont remember the last movie

is ollie me boys actor wearing contacts or are his eyes just like that??

thats a very weird way of showing Halloween 81, very misleading

hagrid said ill predict voldys rise in the first movie so we can have some plot development

hagrid is late to everything isnt he? i can feel it in my bones

i swear ive seen these movies, and ive even read the first book, i just dont remember shit

youd think theyd have someone in the know stationed close to the entrance for the platform, for any muggleborns

ginnys actress really had no fucking lines in this movie did she, just had to stand there

oh wait she said good luck

amazing work ginny

ooh a warm filter

can muggles see the express? like just running from london to scotland

wicked!

you didnt have to show the woman the sad sandwich ron

i think the trolly replenishes magically, i think thats how thats how that works, i want to believe that

god i cant tell if i would love or hate hermione, shes pretentious but so was i at that age

god dont fucking point your wand right in someones face mione

how does mione know who harry is?? why does she care?

look at the tiny first years, might just go and pinch theyre cheeks

MINNIEEEE i love you minnie

looking stunning minnie, the green brings out the sternness in your brow

you go minnie, give your speech, thats my head of house

shut up draco, youre not bond

you pretentious fuckwit, your hair is brassy anyways

if this is a class of kids born in the middle of a war, how big are the usual class sizes wtf

THE FUCKING CLAP

fucking propaganda ron, you slytherin hater

what order are these names going in, did they just randomized the list

oooh we get quiet for the boy who lived, jesus let him keep living

the fact that for the rest of these people its just silent is so fucking funny to me, Harry's just fucking whispering to himself

get their attention minnie

me dads a muggle, mums a witch, bit of a shock for him when he found out

NICK, love to see you buddy

i have no emotional attachment to peeves but i feel i should mention him here

the stairs still piss me off, why the fuck would you make moving stair cases

who sets out gloves for the next day? am i the weird one who doesnt??

Minnie, you are the love of my life

shut up snape you dramatic bloodpurist incel

i know theyre setting him up to be mistaken as the villain but jesus christ hes still an asshole

your robes Neville, you forgot your robes

its weird how they have to learn all these latin charms yet only have to say up to get their brooms to work

why wont you go after him, hes obviously not exactly in control, Hooch

does Hooch only teach first years? she is quite literally the equivalent of a history teacher who coaches football

what the fuck is Quirells classroom

they dont make the house teams because no first years can try out, Ron

MINNIE PLAYED QUIDDITCH?!?!? WHY DIDN'T I KNOW THIS

why didnt you speak up earlier Mione wtf

bc the fire wont give you away, harry, better hide

FLUFFY, WHOS A GOOD BOY

they have much worse things locked up in the school, Ron

Oliver wood is a bloody liar because i still dont fuckign understand quidditch, also theres like 500 rules, wtf

thats a shitty explanation of how the game works, Oliver

BLOW IT UP SEAMUS

SHES TWO FEET BEHIND YOU RON YOU IDIOT

carrot cake? on halloween?

dont shrug as if you didnt literally bully her ron

thought youd oughta know, bit of an understatement Quirell

no duh the trolls left the dungeon ron

lying: the best start to any friendship

we're at a net zero points for gryffindor for the year at the moment

the amount of interaction these kids have with professors is so weird to me, is this what small class size do to kids?? its weird

not comforting Oliver

Okay i understand Oliver simps now, I get it okay

are there no backups or subs for quidditch? feels like there should be, like of all the games

set him on fire mione, i know hes not the villain of the movie but god he sucks

fancy flying from harry fucking potter

okay but also i feel like there are some things we should not trust hagrid with, like hes not that great at keeping secrets

why is harry excited about christmas if he thinks hes not getting presents? i knw there are other aspects but like thats the only reasont o get up early

i always remember this scene at night for some reason??

not just an invisibility cloak, THE invisibility cloak ron

btw who gives it to harry? is it remus? is it dumbledore? is it like an inheritance thing? whats up with that?

there are jumpscares in harry potter

he very much can hide, filch

stop being a narc mrs norris

does harry even know what his parents look like at this point? how does he know who the fuck is in the mirror of erised?? he doesnt have that stupid scrapbook yet does he

oh they nod, sure lets clear up that plot hole

they shouldve put sirius and remus in the mirror in that scene, shown his whole family, wouldve been a nice setup

how does rupert grint already look so tired as a twelve year old

big speech to give to a twelve year old Dumbledore, when you wont even tell him what you see

Emma really does just slam that book on Daniels hand, thats mustve fucking sucked

the fact that ive watched two movies that had Nicholas Flamel in two very different roles this year is very strange to me

well thats probably on account of it being a fucking dragon egg hagrid, now isnt it?

was hagrid a hufflepuff? i think he was, maybe a ravenclaw

yes four, you blonde idiot

that shot is really nice, it sets them apart

what happened to filch to make him such a miserable man?

ooh mention of werewolves, awooo werewolves of london

yeah just dip your whole hand in hagrid, dont be scared of the strange liquid, take a nice little bath

i loev that dog, i want that dog, i want to hug that dog

god just the look of that forest is so bloody cool

wait so is that quirell walking fucking backwards?

maybe ask who the fuck youre talking to before asking other questions??? wtf harry

why are yout talking to the centaur like hes your old friend harry, youve literally never met him before

snape doesnt want the stone at all Harry

god hagrid you sweet stupid man

snape is completely valid for that, if a twelve year old ever looked at me like that i would punch them

Do you think people ever loose invisibility cloaks? like theyre invisible do you think they ever just never get found again

i hate the look of the dog spit, that is so gross

they really left everything in except for the fucking potions didnt they, damn

harry potter walked so queens gambit could run

hermione, posted up

rons stupid in the later movies because he got a concussion as a twelve year old

god harry really posted up to beat up snape in fucking khakis

"I knew you were a danger to me!" Hes twelve, Quirell

let me wait for this weird dude to unravel his head scarf instead of running away

the magic in this movie is real fucking conditional isnt it

just some casual necromancy for the stone? you sure about that voldy, you two faced bitch?

let me choke out this twelve year old real quick

oh yeah why is he able to just avengers endgame Quirell? is there an answer to that? like was that ever found out

do you think voldy passing by him while he hold the stone actually killed him but since he holds the stone hes functionally unkillable and then some magic gets put into him and thats why he can return to life later when he actually goes to the whole afterlife place?

ohhh we're vouching on the blood magic for the endgaming of Quirell

do you think dumbledore came across the vomit flavored bean before or after his sister died?

Mione's got a headband! Looking snazzy!

how did Hufflepuff only get 352 points? Gryffindor literally lost 150 points this year and they only beat them by 50, wtf, is it because they kept getting caught with weed

I wont even speak on the fucking outrage that is this point awarding, its already been spoken on. However, Neville shouldve gotten more points

What if someone just stood up and started challenging Dumbledores math, that would be so funny

some of these extras are really attractive

but james potter is somehow so fucking ugly why did they do that to my mans

hagrid deserves the last shot of this film, i love him, he deserves everything, that stupid sweet man

[draconym]

Summer Camp Culture

It's spring now so that means I've been thinking about my plans for summer camp at the parks where I work. I've been told by a lot of kids and parents that my camps are Better, and while I usually have no idea what to do when someone praises me I've come to take a lot of pride in being Good At Camp. I have many fond memories of summer camp as a kid (most of my good childhood memories, in fact) and the majority are due to what can only be described as "camp culture." Summer camp is a world that operates differently from the ones kids know at school and at home. Some of Camp Culture is the unique rituals and games that each group of kids discovers on their own, but a lot of it is the environment that we as adults make the effort to create.

So here are some of the things I've learned that I do differently from other camp directors, that maybe my fellow camp directors/counselors and youth mentors can learn from!

Let kids pick their own camp names. By this I mean that on the first day, when we introduce ourselves and make name tags, I let kids decide what I and everyone else at camp will call them. About 95% of kids just stick with their name, but sometimes kids choose outlandish nicknames for themselves like Coconut or Kirby or Sharkbait, and that's fun. More importantly, though, there are a lot of kids who don't like their given names (for any reason, really, but special shout-out to everyone who doesn't like their given name for Gender Reasons). These kids absolutely light up when you tell them you'll call them whatever they tell you to call them on the first day of camp.

Bypass the stressful illusion that you're going to maintain orderliness and instead aim for controlled chaos. For example, whether we're hiking or walking to and from different locations, I don't bother trying to get kids to walk in a line. There's no real necessity for it as long as they stay with our group. Instead, we make a "counselor sandwich" where the the adults at the front and the back are the "bread" and the kids are the "sandwich fillings," and as long as they "stay in the sandwich" I'm satisfied. There's also the added entertainment of hearing them proudly declare what sandwich ingredient they are.

Related point: Sometimes you gotta just find an easy and inelegant solution to a problem to streamline activity transitions, etc; since we lack actual cubbies or hooks or anything at all the rec and parks camps, I designate one picnic table at each location as the Stuff Table and everyone's backpacks and coats and water bottles go on it. Once that kind of system is in place you can designate a Stuff Tree or a Stuff Rock or a Stuff Log out on the trail, YMMV.

Under no circumstances should you force a kid to engage in a game or activity. YES they do have to stay with the group, and that might mean they have to keep hiking when they don't want to, but NEVER EVER shame a kid for "I don't wanna." My only responses to I Don't Wanna are "you don't have to," or in the case of a hike, where they can't just sit on the ground nearby, "if you don't feel up to it you can sit in the office on the cot until you feel better" (the parks and rec equivalent of an infirmary). I have had kids with anxiety and the families of kids with anxiety tell me emphatically that not being mandated to do new and intimidating activities was a huge boon to their metal health. I have watched anxious kids blossom over the course of a summer (or two or three) as they gradually gain the skills to join in and try new things. I often invite kids who are uncomfortable in this way to be a referee or to help set up the equipment for a game, and they have all appreciated the (no pressure) invitation, even if they don't always accept the task right away.

Never underestimate the power of shouting RED LIGHT to get a kid to stop doing something inadvisable. Many kids who are completely deaf to their own name when combined with your impassioned pleas to stop running will immediately freeze upon hearing "RED LIGHT." Bonus: other children will often join in with you in shouting it.

Whenever possible, encourage kids to resolve conflicts themselves. When I see an argument brewing, I usually remain on standby until a kid requests that I step in (unless it looks like someone is REALLY going to lose their temper and lash out). Sometimes I'll cut in and ask, "is something wrong?" which kids are usually eager to answer. Which segues into:

Don't force kids to say "I'm sorry." A sulky, forced apology is meaningless and most kids recognize (and resent) this. Instead of demanding "say you're sorry," I usually ask the aggrieved party "what do you want to happen now/next time?" I also ask the other party what they want to happen next time, since it usually reveals what caused them to escalate the situation in the first place. Sometimes the answer IS simply "I want an apology," but often this question leads to more constructive solutions like "I want him to give me a chance to kick the ball" or "I want her to stop calling me a Dunkaroo" or "I just want to be left alone." I also highly recommend "just spend some time away from each other" as a viable conflict resolution for kids, though with a camp group it's not always possible.

I allow kids to engage in conflict-inducing games that other counselors won't by using them as an opportunity to teach my campers about consent. There are few things more adorable than watching large group of preschoolers carefully negotiate how and who they will throw water balloons at because I have told them that they MUST get permission beforehand EVERY SINGLE TIME they want to throw a water balloon at someone or they won't be given any more water balloons. I have witnessed countless iterations of conversations like, "can I throw one at you?" "only if I can throw mine at you" "hmmm nevermind then" "okay"

This goes for most kinds of physical contact. A lot of counselors will declare No Touching Of Any Kind rules and then paradoxically initiate games of tag or sports that require mildly violent physical contact. So not only do I find "don't touch anyone else ever" to be a ridiculously unenforceable, even psychologically unhealthy rule, I've also never seen it consistently implemented. The Touching Rules that I enforce all come down to "ask first even if you are trying to be nice" and "always stop if the other person doesn't like it." And the classic, "no kissin' at camp," because some kids are just a little too affectionate.

If you've got a kid with no respect for bugs, you can prevent wanton insecticide with the rule of "if you kill it you have to eat it." Other children are eager to enforce this rule on bug-killers.

[isolaradiale]

Welcome to SpiraleFES 2020!

A word of warning first: this is not an event and does not count as event participation towards ranking up. This is merely a bunch of fun activities that persist throughout July and until the next event in August if you’d like to use them for threads. 

The city is decorated festively from top to bottom, each and every ward sporting streamers, festive music, and providing a number of fun events. These can be used for threads throughout July and August, and so we encourage you to make use of them for some interesting interaction ideas! The list of events is as follows:

FIBONACCI WARD

NO PLACE LIKE HOME DECOR Do you find yourself missing that touch of something from home you just can’t seem to find in the city, no matter how hard you look? Well, search no more! Around the parks in various levels of the ward are vendors from familiar places, toting those little somethings from where you came from. Finally, you can find some clothes and other household items that aren’t easily accessible here. And if you look hard enough, you may find one of your personal treasures and trinkets that didn’t travel with you--a music box, a locket, maybe a ring from a family member… Don’t worry, it’ll have your name on it. NOTE: Weapons and other combat items will not be for sale in any of the bazaars.

A ROARIN’ BOREALIS SKATING RINK From the city streets, it looks like a bright ribbon of rainbow light, not unlike the famed Northern Lights. But ride the platform up to the top and see that the shimmering lights are actually a massive skating rink, with a figure 8 loop around the upper tiers of Fibonacci City. You can bring your own skates, or visit the kiosk to rent some LiteSkates--which leave a four-foot trail of light behind you in the color of your choice. There are guard rails around the arena, but even the clumsiest of skaters will be alright. After all, if you fall off the arena, a drone will pick you up and put you back on the ring. NOTE: Available during nighttime only.

ANDROID HELL … or the Ofiuco Rave, by any other name. A series of Radiocats seem to have flocked up to the lower floors of Level 3, and any discrimination towards those who seem like they may not belong has been, luckily (though no doubt only temporarily) shoved aside. Is it the Radiocats that set up the series of bright neon, backlit raves that have crowded varying floors on this level? … who knows. What everyone does know is that they’re certainly jamming out to some, as they say, “sick beats”, and large crowds have been drawn to the fluorescent party. It may be hard to move from place to place, but with the technology here being what it is, if you can see through the strobe for long enough, you’re bound to enjoy yourself! Ofiuco certainly is. NOTE: Ofiuco is immune to all attacks, charms, and other phenomena

CRAFT PUNK Outside of Fibonacci’s towering skyscrapers, nestled in the resident district, is an event with tinkerers in mind. Blending with the steampunk atmosphere is a foundry where your muse can learn the arts of robotics and machines. Classes range from building your own remote-control cars to making toys and household appliances (you know, like those little circular vacuum cleaners? Or a Super Toaster?) For those of you who are particularly adept in the art of machinery, you can enter the Scrap Battle Showdown--a competition to make a battle robot no bigger than a 3ft cube using only the supplies available in the foundry. If you’re caught using any materials from home, you’ll be kicked out!

ZERO G’S, ZERO CARES Ever wanted to go into space to do all the cool astronaut stuff, but not go through the rigorous education and training? This event is for you! Walk through the doors of this massive dome, and you enter a zero-gravity playground, where you can zoom around and float to your heart’s content. There are various pieces of equipment and toys you can rent out and play with, as well as anchored structures to hang off of. And when you get hungry, just visit the astronaut food vending machine!

COTES WARD

PIXIE PERFECT TREASURE HUNT The pixies of the Airaisal Forest have decided to cooperate with outsiders for a one of a kind event. Search the forest with an enchanted teacup pig with a nose for a very particular treasure: rare, golden truffles. Amass five to be awarded the equivalent of 200$ in Dust. But give up, or lose your teacup pig, and you’ll be spending the rest of your day as a fox kit as per pixie punishment.

OPHIUCHUS TREE TOWER Scale the gigantic tree that rises high against the cityscape with an alraune guide. The plant person in question will create a staircase of leaves around the tree’s trunk rising upward, allowing you and small group of friends to traverse the tree in a way normally impossible. Once you reach the canopy get ready to enjoy a one of a kind picnic lunch while you overlook the island from the most magical of vantage points.

NERF JOUSTING Rent a horse from the Market Town coliseum and take up arms against a number of opponents. Well, take up soft foam arms. Experience what it’s like to joust without any of the immediate danger. *any wounds accumulated via falling off your horse will be immediately healed by a fairy.

MAZE BY PIXIE LIGHT An elaborate garden maze illuminate by magic lights provided by the pixies of the village. This event only runs at night and can only be experienced in pairs, but the prize for success is a doozy: a crystal flower that is traditionally exchanged between pixies meant to promise themselves to one another. Receiving this flower as a couple is a promise to remain at one another’s sides through thick and thin. 

CANDLE LIGHTING FOR THE LOST During the night, the river that flows at the base of Ophiuchus comes to life with tiny lights as the alraune have arranged a way to send off the fallen, giving any who want one a tiny flower raft with a candle resting upon it. Placing this raft on the lake while considering well wishes for a resident of the city has since left is thought to bring them good fortune… wherever they are. Though in a realm where death isn’t permanent it can also be used to give well wishes to even the living, perhaps someone you know that’s having a hard time.  

STAR-DEN TEA PARTY The stars and planets are always so far away, aren’t they? Well, in this outdoor star garden, you’ll be able to walk through paths with lots of little glowing stars and planets--you may even find your home planet drifting in the cosmos! Each star, comet, cluster and planet can be interacted with, with the biggest planets only reaching the size of a beach ball. Letting go of the celestial body will have it simply float gently upward to begin drifting again.The event is catered with a variety of teas, coffees and cocoas, as well as sandwiches and little finger foods. Bring a blanket and gaze at them drifting by! Note: This event is only available when the sun goes down! 

GOLDEN WARD

REFRESHING FRUITS A boon of the token fruits of summer. At sunset, the beach’s parking lot transforms into a cute little market selling and showcasing everything melon! Vendors selling melon-themed snacks and drinks ranging from fun to wacky, melon carving contests, melon-themed clothes and other commercial goods, and lots of activities and games... And melon plants, of course! There's bound to be something for everyone.

NOBODY’S BORED! WALK The Boardwalk is offering free admission for the duration of SpiraleFES! Not only that, but it’s open until midnight instead of closing solely at nightfall, and at 10pm each Sunday there’s a fireworks display. With a variety of little games and activities with fun prizes to be won, there’s a guarantee you definitely won’t be running out of things to do any time soon! Drop by at 6pm any night for a free barbecue.

CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL A cruise ship has docked, decked out in festive banners and balloons for the festivities. Open Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with free admission and free souvenirs, there’s a different themed activity on each of those nights! Monday night sports access to the ship’s nightclub, Wednesday sports a murder mystery starting at 8pm, and Friday sports a series of different escape rooms once the sun sets! The cruise ship may or may not be decked out solely in a variety of golden decorations, however.

THE CHILLIN’ VILLAIN A nightclub and lounge has mysteriously popped up on the border of the shadier part of Golden, and goodie two-shoes need not walk through its doors. With a temporary in-house ceasefire, all sorts of villains and antagonists are welcome to share a drink, a dance, and tell of the heists and plots they've devised. And if you'd rather keep your identity hidden, masks will be provided to you at a cost (it's a villain's lounge, not a charity!). NOTE: The ceasefire is mandatory, and all weapons and powers are deactivated upon entering the building

A FOAM-IDABLE FOE Out further into the ocean are a few obstacles, rafts and arenas. On the beach are your weapons: foam armaments of every shape and style--everything from foam swords to guns that shoot foam darts to foam shields and battle-axes. Your task is simple: knock your opponent(s) or opposing team(s) off the platform and into the water using your sick new foam gear. Think of it as a… Foam Battle Royale!Want a challenge? Some of the arenas equalize the strengths and defenses of its challengers, making even the most powerful Isolans only as strong as the weakest contender on the arena. Note: For this event, your combat powers/items will be rendered ineffective!

ARCHIMEDES WARD

ARTE FESTE (MULTIFACETED) All creative minds are welcome to join this massive booth dedicated to arts and crafts. All sorts of classes will be held over the span of the month--from common forms of painting and pottery to the unique art forms of metalworking and glassblowing. Whatever you create in the booth can be taken home, given to a loved one, or sold at the vendor’s tent. Any necessary supplies will be rented to you, but if you break it, you buy it. If performance arts are more your thing, stop by for any of the open mic sessions held at Calliope Theater. NPCs will be hosting plays and short skits that you may be dragged into as an unfortunate audience member, but citizens of Spirale are encouraged to take the stage and wow the crowd with words! Comedy sketches, poetry, and any other magnificent talents of yours are welcome at the stage! Please pay no attention to the guy selling tomatoes to throw. He doesn’t work for us. We don’t know where he came from.

TOO POOL FOR SCHOOL The Water of Styx, while always open to the public, has been decorated much like the rest of the wards. An assortment of pool toys and games have been set up and laid out for all to use as they see fit, including but not limited to some of the largest pool noodles you’ll ever see, a variety of pool floats in all shapes and sizes, and a volleyball net set up toward one end of the pool for all to enjoy a game. Refreshments and snacks provided! Some of the smaller pools around the ward have similarly been decked out in a multitude of fun pool supplies, but not nearly to the extent as the Water of Styx.

FLASH FASHION (THE DEPARTMENT WOULDN’T LET US NAME IT “FLASHION”) Highlighting the summer fashion scene is this joint-event, perfect for participants of all levels of experience. Those skilled in the art of the cloth can showcase their designs both on mannequins or in person in the display booth. There are all sorts of categories to enter your pieces into, so don’t be shy to show what you’re made of! Those that have an eye for photography are encouraged to come and snap some photos of the spectacle; the fashion, the models, the contestants--even the guests! The display booth has a wireless printer and a corkboard for pinning your snapshots to. For those of you who would rather keep things fun and casual, there’s a photo trail with plenty of fantastic views of the ward to take that sweet, sweet selfie in.

CANDY CAMOUFLAGE So, yeah, it looks like a typical home goods store. But don’t be deceived! Many of the objects you’d typically find in the store--furniture, pillows, curtains and more--are completely edible! Even then, the tastiest candies and chocolates are only for the bravest and most adventurous tasters. A treat can be hiding anywhere--a clothes hanger, a ball-point pen, a mannequin, the wallpaper… Just be careful not to crunch on a real object. And if you do, there’s a dentist down the street. The event resets at midnight each night and the store changes daily, so every experience is different!

THE INTRASPACE

SPIRALE DOUBLE DASH!!: PAINBOW ROAD For a limited time, kart racing is available at the Intraspace hub! Go solo or grab a friend, customize your ride, and ride like the wind! The rules are simple--complete three laps around the circuit and try to finish in 1st place. But these aren’t your ordinary courses, and things get pretty… wild. There’s no rule against sabotaging your opponents, either. So better watch out…! Don’t worry--if you completely total your kart or fall off the edge of the track, you’ll be safely transported back to the Kart Lobby to try again in another round! The better you do in races, the better you can deck out your uniforms and kart.

[nettlestonenell]

Armie Hammer wants a sequel to The Man From U.N.C.L.E.—shouldn’t you?

This post is a long time in coming, Gentle Readers and @jammeke​, but now, though it might be here, before your very eyes, to think it will be well-laid out would be a mistake. It’s set to be just about as messy as Ilya’s misplaced loyalties and murky motivations.

How dare!

I probably first watched this film well over a year ago (courtesy @jammeke​ posting things about it). I used Sling OnDemand (I think on TNT). In the ensuing viewings I also watched it in that way, but as I was sitting down for a fourth(?) viewing, it kept coming to me that I was tired of watching it with commercials I couldn’t skip, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had been edited for time and I was missing out on scenes. [pointless aside: I was also watching the film in chunks, and never as a whole]

Where is she now? What’s the time stamp? How far along did she get? Are you shagging the hotel hostess yet?

So, I, uh, set out to buy it on DVD—without any luck! In the sense that copies I could find cost more (w/ shipping) than buying it to stream. So, I bought it to stream on Amazon. Do I regret my choice, Gentle Readers? No, no I don’t. I do regret burden of knowledge in learning that TNT was already playing the entirety of the film. That was a hard pill to swallow.

Nope, I’ve looked. That’s absolutely everything. Nothing additional lurking around here...

So here it is, as it is, @jammeke, “My Notes on The Man from U.N.C.L.E.”

Look, I don’t know what this film is. I probably can’t fully articulate its appeal. Or maybe I can--certainly after transcribing four page I’ve tried. Number One thing to know about me and fiction/films is that a top draw for me is seeing something out of the ordinary, such as beautiful locations, a historical era, delicious costumes. There are times, frankly, this can trump weak story and undefined character for me. (The best films, of course, combine all three) Certainly, The Man... delivers in the delight of the eyes. Additionally, I must confess that growing up as a person older than @reblogginhood​ but younger than Miss Fisher, so much of what was on TV was essentially reruns of this film’s iconic Look(tm). So, when I see women dressed like Gaby I am just another three-to-seven-year-old overcome with the drop dead glamour of it all.

Darling, tell me how you really feel...

Some questions I have:

·         IS Armie Hammer a hulk of a man? Everyone in this film seems to think so, yet he always tracks to me as trim (rather than hulking)

·         Why translate via captions some Russian speaking, but not all?

·         IS Napoleon’s backstory directly cribbed from USA’s White Collar?

·         DOES Gaby have a German accent?

·         Does Ilya get preternaturally attached to all the people he’s ordered to look after? Also, what is his bonding rate with kittens?

Sorry, wrong iteration. 

 ·         If Lady Villain knows the lens is wrong—if her technical understanding is that in-depth--does she really need Gaby’s dad to make the bomb?

·         How old was Gaby during the war?

·         What happens when Ilya gets a NEW puppy assigned to him? (please let this be addressed in film #2)

Hooray for:

·         That bathroom fight! *all the Burn Notice feels!

·         Gaby is her own lady, and chooses sides as necessary—not always unilateral in her support for either male character. Case in point: she sides with Ilya over the clothes, and Napoleon over the incident of the wallet.

·         That delicious (speaking as Rusty, here) Ocean’s 11-stylized action. It’s pretty, so I’m not bored with it. Sometimes a sandwiched montage gets shown, so I’m REALLY not bored. I’ve got 18 tiny moving boxes of things to look at!

·         Pinkie rings. There, you’ve told me everything I need to know about that character.

·         Solo in a beret. English has not yet found a word for the feeling it evoked in this viewer. Somewhere between ‘precious’ and ‘oh, no’.

See, there? Now you’ve felt it too.

·         Goggles! All the accessories! Dune Buggies! (I mean, that’s what I’m calling Napoleon’s chase-scene ride)

Things I adore:

·         It seems (after some research) that more than a few folks view Gaby as a third wheel, and though she’s not exactly a Princess Leia commandeering her own rescue and exuding competence and a deserved take-charge-attitude at every corner, she IS a foci for both male characters (though romantically it would seem only for one), just as Ilya is a foci for both her and Napoleon [no one seems to worry about Napoleon, though they should--film #2, anyone?]

·         Mechanic Gaby not needing a beauty makeover, or being dragged into one. She gets some nice clothes, but it’s never suggested that she’s not attractive or acceptable before putting them on, and I respect, nay, embrace it.

Oh, my heart. She’s still not as tall as them!

·         Ilya, drab pigeon Ilya, knowing fashion

·         Oh man, don’t even get me started on the power of the statement, “it doesn’t have to match”

·         You knew it was coming on this sublist: the wrestle-fight. I mean, c’mon. Poor little Gaby, locked behind the Iron Curtain, living a life of always being watched. She’s in the swankest hotel (I mean, Napoleon chose it, so we can be sure it’s swank with an E). She’s trying to celebrate her freedom, her liberation. She’s playing verboten music, she’s drinking to excess. Girl wants—and deserves—a party. And Ilya is…not built for that (that he knows of). For some fun, just imagine if she had been given Napoleon to room with instead.

                            o   I will say that this scene, and some of their other interactions have what I would call early (non-sibling) Luke and Leia energy. Ilya seems to have moments of being struck by Gaby in a way Luke is struck by Leia in the early part of the trilogy. When Leia takes charge, and Luke accepts it. When Leia does something incredible, and Luke is left open-mouthed. *no, I don’t see OT Star Wars in everything. Shut up.

·         “He fixed the glitch.”

·         Again, shout-out to the non-action action.

·         “I left my jacket in there.”

·         The whole race to rescue Gaby I am in love with beyond words. [I have noted it as “Crazy Jeep Drive with Warhead!”] Probably b/c it comes across as totally egalitarian. Both men want her rescued. They’re no longer in competition. It’s just as important to Napoleon as it is to Ilya to catch up to her. Also, it is bonkers, like some sort of X-games version of a commercial for the vehicles they’re driving. And screaming Willie Scott does not make an appearance.

         Someone says “winkle” out.

·         Look! Another note about the screen divisions and how I love it, shout-outs to the original Steve McQueen The Thomas Crown Affair (a contemporary of when this movie is meant to be set), and TV’s 24.

Things that get a great, big NOPE:

·         Jerrod Harris: you’ve been in so much streamable content in the last decade I can’t hate you, but frankly, you’re terrible here—unless you’re supposed to be giving a mannered, not-campy-enough-to-be-enjoyable performance here. Your American English puts me in the mind of Alex Hawaii 5-0′Loughlin where it feels you’re concentrating so hard on your accent that you fail to convince anyone that you’re a harried, over-worked and exasperated spy handler. Your performance is at odds with every bit of dialogue you’re given to say.

·         That awful, mishandled title that doesn’t even connect to the film until the final moments (a sequel set-up, for sure)

·         Look, you don’t introduce Hugh Grant casually mid-way through your film in a throwaway appearance. I mean, he’s HUGH GRANT we all know something’s up now.

·         This is not exactly a great big NOPE, b/c I love a flat cap, Tommy Shelby—but I feel like a less tall man with a far rounder face in a flat cap would track more as Russian to me that AH does. To me, he just looks like he’s about to go golfing.

Over par? Unacceptable!

·         Is Victoria a British-accented Italian? A British woman who married—what? Gaby’s uncle isn’t Italian!? An Italian who went to school in Britain? My head hurts. Also, is her hair meant to be unconvincingly bleached?

Other commentary:

·         Napoleon’s adult ne’er-do-well backstory is so far from being emotionally equivalent to Ilya’s childhood trauma [and his enslavement to the USSR] it seems bestial when he calls it out on multiple occasions. Badly done, Solo.

·         Gaby is the film’s key (sorry, Buffy fans). Everyone is connected to her. Yes, she could have been given a bit more on the character front, but I don’t see her as as much of a flaw in the film as some others/reviewers seem to.

·         Look, essentially (and not very nuanced-ly), Ilya is a stalker. I think the film goes a certain distance in establishing that his early behavior toward Gaby is not normal, but concurrently it does not truly call him out on it. He’s essentially viewed as an odd-duck, sure, but not a true threat to her (should she not reciprocate or tolerate his intensity toward her). I think I might be able to cite his behavior when Gaby comes on to him (that he doesn’t jump at a chance with her) that maybe he’s given a little more nuance than a straight-on stalker, and it helps that he and Napoleon never get into a pissing match over Gaby’s person, only over her new clothes. But overall the film has to walk a fine line (and the jury is still out on how successful it is, I’d say) between playing Ilya’s laser-like attention to Gaby for its humor, and calling it out for the unsettling, threatening behavior it is.

·         Honestly, it wasn’t until I engaged the Closed Captioning that I understood Napoleon was calling Ilya the ‘Red Peril’. So, that was nearly three viewings in.

·         I give the screen credits A+, on both ends. Not to mention the end credits are actually INTERESTING with lots to see and learn! (Certainly we learn more about HG in them than we do at any time during the film)

Things I would have liked:

·         More of fish-out-of-the-Iron-Curtain Gaby moments

·         A better dichotomy shown of East vs. West Berlin/Germany. There’s nothing easy either visually or otherwise to distinguish the two.

·         HC being given a more specific American accent (from an actual locality). This, for an American viewer, works better than the flat, unlocated American accent many a British actor will bust out. *Mind you, HC does a generally good job, but he fails utterly on both “Immediate” which he pronounces at least twice as “immeedeejt” [rather than imm-E-deeot] and “Nazi” as “NAHT-zee” [rather than “NOT-zee”]. And let’s not get started on that late in the film use of ‘earnt’, a word that—well, it’s just not in the American English twentieth century lexicon.

·         C’mon. You gotta tease the Hugh Grant more.

·         Solo is a blank before the war. I’ve read thoughts on the film calling out Gaby as the blank character, but they’re wrong. Solo is the blank. He’s the ‘made’ man, his identity seemingly assembled during the war and after. For example, he doesn’t go into the war a thief, nor (it would seem) a particularly educated or urbane individual. Now THAT’s a juicy backstory I’d love to learn about, perhaps in film #2--or #3? What creates a Napoleon Solo? What would he be doing if he weren’t on the government’s leash/incarcerated? Is anyone left caring about him back wherever he calls home? I mean, who doesn’t love a gender-flipped 60s-era Holly Golightly backstory? [And yes, I would love there to be an ex-wife or even a current wife mixed up in his origins as well—Guy Ritchie, call me!]

Notes I have that I’m not sure if they still make sense to me:

·         Only mom calls me Napoleon (do he say it ‘mum’?) Is he a secret Canadian?

·         Solo’s torture, 1st view recall Napoleon’s childhood? *I think this means that after watching the first time I somehow erroneously believed that during the torture Napoleon’s childhood was a topic gone over. This was wrong. HOWEVER, this would have made far more story-sense than the backstory we’re given on an easily disposeable villain.

·         “Even the average Russian agent. You’re special.” ?

·         Uncle is Baddie (*so glad I made this note to myself)

·         Ilya’s dad IS an embarrassment. I’m not sure what genius commentary I had in my mind, here. Perhaps that Ilya himself is embarrassed of him? Not just Ilya’s handler’s? [Also, aside: Napoleon totally slut-shames Ilya’s mom, which is the doublest of double standards from ‘I got myself the biggest and most ornate suite b/c I-wanted-plenty-of-space-for-my-random-seductions’ and I really wish Ilya had thrown that back in his face] *yes, of course I know that Ilya and Napoleon would not likely equate a wife/mother’s sexual exploits with that of Solo’s, but let’s be honest, this film tweaks the nose of (I won’t say reverses, it doesn’t go that far) plenty of tropes and gender expectations, and this certainly seems like a missed opportunity to call Solo on the carpet (which I hope film #2 does far more)

Things I wrote down so long ago I don’t recall what they mean:

·         CC-save

In conclusion:

What does film #2 look like? What title does it get? Will the Peter/Neil White Collar dynamic continue to grow? *note that I have no confidence a second film will ever come to pass...

In the end, all I know is, “It didn't help when American Tom Cruise, who was slated to play U.S. spy Napoleon Solo, dropped out, prompting the casting of Cavill (who had previously read for the Russian role).“ I would not have watched that film.

[rora-s]

The Derivative  Chapter 9: Wormholes

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 8 

“Apparently there’s large performance differentials between same caliber bullets from different manufacturers” Amita told Charlie walking over to him with a piece of paper with the information. 

“Based on what?” Uncle C questioned looking the paper over. 

“Lead composition, gunpowder packing” Amita shrugged, sitting back down in her seat. 

“Just what I need more variables” Charlie muttered. 

“I could help you run through the equations if you want” I offered leaning forward on the couch. 

“No you’re not helping” Charlie objected turning back to his chalkboard “if Don even found out you were in here we’d both be in trouble” 

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book. Just then there was a knock at the door to the solarium and Larry meandered in. “oh, some assistance in my brazen attack on the Lorenz invariance?” 

“No, drag coefficient models” Charlie informed. 

“Drag co- drag on what?” Larry questioned. Walking from Charlie to Amita.

“Bullets” the woman answered. 

“Bullets as in ballistic trajectories defined by the Einstein Equivalence Principle, related to the Lorenz frame?” Larry questioned over her shoulder pointedly. 

“As in, bullets that kill people” Amita replied. 

“Oh” Larry muttered with slight disgust in his voice as he turned to join me sitting on the couch. 

“There seems to be some disagreements over the sniper’s expertise” Amita explained looking to Charlie. 

“Well, I’d say the public’s decided on the question.” Larry explained “I have an aunt who lives two blocks from the first shooting. She’s afraid to go out on her front lawn now.” he gestured out the window. 

“Why don’t you tell your aunt that statistically she has a better chance of being mauled by a bear” Charlie explained exasperatedly. 

“Actually, statistics would favor the bear being mauled by my aunt but…” Larry joked and we all shared a small laugh. “This fear, this extends beyond the reach of statistics Charles.” Larry explained sinking into the couch. “No this is about arbitrary inescapable death. No, times like these, you just wind up speculating on paths not taken, jobs left undone.” 

“Larry I- I’m trying to get those equations done for you as soon as I can,” Charlie defended. 

“No, no, no.” Larry objected sitting up “at that moment, I was actually thinking of a far more prosaic legacy. Someone to carry on the Fleinhardt standard” 

We all looked at the physicist in surprise. “I didn’t know you wanted kids, Larry” Charlie voiced. 

“Well children are wormholes” Larry declared. 

“Wormholes?” Amita questioned. 

“As the only minor in the room can I protest that classification?” I asked the man who sat next to me fiddling with a small bowl “or at least get an explanation?” 

“Yeah. They’re portals into the unreachable future and unattainable past.” he somewhat clarified “No, as things stand now they exist only in the theoretical realm so..” 

“Well, I can see where you might have some trouble selling a woman on the idea of carrying you wormhole” Amita stated and we all chuckled again. 

____________

There’s isn’t anything quite as annoying as sitting at the kitchen table trying to get a look at the work your Uncle is doing for the FBI that you know you can help with but aren’t allowed to. This is where I was as I sat at the dining table Charlie working and Larry getting himself another cup of coffee. 

“You know,” the physicist spoke up from the kitchen, “I have had almost no attendance at my morning classes. It’s like everyone’s afraid to set foot outside” 

“Not everybody” Charlie objected as Larry came in and sat a cup of water down for the mathematician. 

“Just the general populous” I commented. 

“Yeah. In times like these, an empty house is not a home” Larry said taking a seat at the table. “Evaluating my immediate prospects for a conventional nuclear family, I’ve just now begun to consider adoption.” 

“How long have you been considering it?” Charlie inquired. 

“Three days,” Larry offered. 

“Give it a few more days.” Charlie advised. 

“Yeah” Larry agreed “but consider Don. He had no prior notion or plan for raising a young adult and yet here he is doing just fine.” 

“That would convey the notion that my father is doing more than just monitoring me and providing me sustenance” I muttered. 

“I suppose there is something to be said about a mentoring learning curve” Larry murmured. Then looked at Charlie’s work “so what? You found a pattern yet?” 

“More like a pattern of patternlessness.” Charlie informed. 

“Is patternlessness even a word?” I asked. 

“Well it is now” Charlie stated. 

“Hey, there’s an interesting metaphysical notion.” Larry voiced. 

“What, whether patternlessness is a word?” I asked. 

“No the interesting part it plays in this case.” Larry explained “perhaps a human element remains to be inserted” 

Charlie groaned in annoyance. “You sound like this, uh, Agent Edgerton guy. He’s a sniper instructor that Don brought in from Quantico he thinks I should be out shooting rifles.” 

“Well, why aren’t you?” Larry inquired. 

“That would be cool” I agreed. 

“It’s a poor allocation of my time” Charlie objected “in the time it takes to shoot X number of rifles, I can access ten or twenty or a hundred times that amount of data” 

“No, no, no, no. there’s data and there’s hands-on experience” Larry pointed out. “These are two different beasts. That’s why you’ve got blackboards and laboratories.” 

“Well you study the universe, and you’ve never been to outer space.” Charlie countered. 

“Yeah, but if I had the opportunity, do you think for a moment I’d hesitate?” Larry said. 

Charlie sighed. “I think it’d be cool to shoot a rifle,” I voiced. 

Charlie gave me a look “you know It’s those kinds of statements that make Don worried about you” 

___________

“Why’d I have to come along?” I muttered. 

“Because if you hung around Larry and Charlie any longer you’d end up helping them on this crazy case and we both know it” Alan stated as we got on the elevator in the FBI office. 

“So your solution is to bring me to the heart of where the case is being handled.” I pointed out. 

“Point made but this is the side of it you definitely can’t help on” Alan commented. I nodded in agreement getting the point. 

The elevator opened and Don greeted us. “Hey guys” he smiled. 

“Hey Donnie” Alan smiled as we headed out of the elevator and into the FBI office. I’d never been here before and it was a cool place. People were all over the place in cubicles. There were meeting rooms with glass walls and doors and on one side a tall stack of file boxes. 

“Thanks for bringing lunch all the way down here.” Don told us as he led us through the office “Come on, this way.” 

“Oh well, you know, the drive was a pleasure.” Gramps explained. “Traffic on the 10 has never been thinner since, uh, well, since it’s been the 10” 

“Yeah, it’s like all LA’s in lockdown, huh? Little eerie” Don commented. “Right in here” we were ushered into a little break room. Alan sat the bag of food on the table and started setting things out. “You guys want a water?” Don asked, leaning by a mini fridge. 

“Yes please” Alan said politely. 

“Sure” I shrugged watching the people through the glass. 

Don set out three waters before taking his seat at the table. Alan got up to grab some napkins. “Hey kid, why don’t you sit down?” Don suggested. 

“Yeah” I agreed, coming over and sitting across from him where Alan had put my sandwich. “Everyone’s really busy out there huh?” 

“Yeah sniper’s a big case and it’s not the only one we have open right now so a lot going on” Don explained as Alan came back over. 

“So, how, uh, how are you and Charlie managing this case?” the elderly man asked. 

“Well, I mean, he’s frustrated; I’m frustrated.” Don shook his head raising his sandwich up to his face “I mean, we’re having a rough time on this” 

“Is that why he’s been running out of the house late at night?” Alan inquired as we ate. 

Don nodded “we got an agent on him all the time” he assured. 

“I mean, I know he’s been helping you out and that he comes down to your office a lot, and I- I think that’s great. But, but now you got him going out on crime scenes.” Alan explained “I mean, there's this guy shooting people out there.”

Don made a face and I could see the argument coming. I quickly spoke up to leave the room “uh where’s the bathroom here?” 

Don look to me “uh out down the hall to the left and then take a right” he gestured. 

“Thanks” I replied, getting up and shuffling out of the room. Glancing back I could see the conversation continuing in my absence. Don and Alan had a strong relationship this I could tell from the beginning. However, Alan was always worried about his sons especially on the FBI side of things. It was a worry I never fully understood but then again this was my first time with male role models so maybe it was just a guy thing to constantly worry about what you can’t control. 

___________________

3rd POV. 

Once Abby had left the room Don turned back to his father “Dad. you really think I would put Charlie in danger?” 

“No,” Alan objected “you know what I really think?” 

“What?” 

“I think you have to understand that Charlie can never say no to you,” Alan explained. Don let out an exasperated breath putting down his sandwich “I mean, I mean. All you have to do is to ask him something and he’s there for you.” 

“Yeah, and I’m there for him.” Don insisted. 

Alan sighed “look, he’s not a cop. Now, come on, I mean, he’s better off with chalk in his hand than a gun.” 

“You know, you got to stop this; he is a grown man, and he’s capable of-” 

“Who still seeks the approval of his older brother” Alan cut Don off. “Whether his older brother likes it or not. And- and more than that Abby, Abby is just like him I had to bring her out here with me just to keep her from trying to help anymore on this sniper math of his.” 

“Abby’s fine alright” Don objected “she just needs to learn to leave that stuff alone” 

“Yeah, and who’s job is it to teach her?” Alan pointed out. 

Don sighed and was about to reply when his phone went off he pulled it out to answer, muttering an excuse me. Meanwhile Abby returned hesitantly but determined the argument was over as she saw her father on the phone. 

“Gotta go” the agent declared gathering his food and getting to his feet “another shooting” 

“Oh my god” Alan muttered. 

“Yeah, I promise I won’t call Charlie till we roll the tanks out.” Don stated stopping in the doorway. “And I want you two to stay here until I call you, okay?” Alan nodded in understanding “all right, thanks for the sandwich” 

With that Don was heading off into the bullpen. “I barely got to say two words to him” Abby muttered, sitting down with her food. 

“Well, I suppose when duty calls” Alan sighed, turning and watching his granddaughter eat. 

__________________

Abby POV.

I left off a loud sigh as Larry and my grandfather began their chess game. “Come on Abby, you like chess,” Alan said. 

“I like playing chess, not watching it,” I replied, turning the page of my book. 

“Well how about you play winner” Gramps suggested and I shrugged in reply. “And would you mind sitting like a normal person we are in public” I raised my hands in an annoyed gesture as I sat sideways in my chair, my legs dangling over the arms rest of one side. Alan gave me a stern look and I sighed shifting in my seat. “Thank you”

“Yeah, yeah” I sighed slouching in my chair and turning another page of my book. 

“Oh. The Ruy Lopez opening” Alan commented on Larry’s move. “I see I’m dealing with a classicist here.” 

“Look, I warned you I was a little rusty” Larry pointed out with a slight laugh to his voice. “My game is also a little undeveloped.” 

“You know I had to stop playing with Charlie when he was eight years old.” Alan explained. 

“Yeah, more precociousness in the biography of professor Charles Eppes.” Larry sighed “yeah you know, among mathematicians, isn’t that just such a cliche, the playing chess?” 

“I didn’t mind losing” Alan explained leaning forward in his seat “it was that bored expression on his face, like he was playing out of courtesy. That’s what got to me” 

“That’s why I keep my poker face up when I challenge you” I muttered, not looking up from my book. “It’s just common courtesy” 

“Oh is that so?” Alan asked and I could hear the amusement in his tone as I smirked. “Perhaps you should remember who your ride home is then” we both chuckled lightly amused. 

“Oh yeah? Well, try Scrabble” Larry suggested ignoring my and my grandfather’s banter. “He’s a horrible speller” 

“Really?” Alan inquired. 

“Oh, he’s horrible,” Larry insisted. 

“I didn’t know that” Gramps sighed leaning back in his chair again. “You know quite a bit about my son.” 

“I don’t know” Larry murmured “I know he’s been a delight. You know, observing him all these years. You know, a star pupil’s ascension to such extraordinary heights I mean, yeah, that’s perhaps the most rewarding aspect of being a teacher.” 

“Come one, we both know you’ve been a lot more than just a teacher to Charlie” Alan pointed out. 

I glanced up to see a small smile grace Larry’s features “well, thank you for saying that.” 

I caught sight of the board and scoffed turning back to my book as Alan spoke again moving one of his bishop “oh, by the way, uh you’re now in check” 

“Oh you distracted me” Larry exclaimed, sitting up as Alan chuckled to himself. 

“Smooth Larry” I murmured. 

___________

“Here I found a tarp” I called tossing the bundled fabric at my uncle. 

“I just didn’t think that I was in immediate danger until I was” Uncle Charlie continued to explain the story I had coaxed out of him when he came back minorly distressed from the scene where the serial sniper was stopped. 

“Well yeah no one expects to die when their life has never been threatened before. Unless they’re paranoid” I muttered. 

“You seem far more calm with this then I would think” Charlie muttered as I climbed down the step ladder and we went to go outside. 

“Well I have experience around guns” I mumbled as we stepped back into the yard and was grateful to see my father there to draw away Charlie’s attention. 

“You told him?” Charlie asked. 

“Yeah about the gun range” Don muttered with a pointed look “that you shot a rifle. He shot a rifle, did a great job” Don rambled slightly. 

“I fired the rifle,” Charlie parroted. 

“Yeah, see i’m perfectly fine” Alan pointed out, wiping his hands with a rag “I didn’t fall off the ladder, I didn’t collapse. I certainly hope you got that out of your system now.” he muttered the last line at his youngest. 

“Definitely” Charlie agreed. 

I scoffed slightly and struggled to suppress my laughter at knowing the full knowledge of what happened as Gramps went to talk to Don about the stain they were putting on the house. Uncle C gave me a slight shove at my poorly suppressed amusement and I bent to help him spread the tarps. 

Chapter 10 ->

[miafic]

JAWN. PICKING HIS MOM UP FROM PRISON. PLEASE ALY OH MY GOD I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THAT TIL NOW (also only write it if you feel able to and want to and all that i do not wanna pressure you lol)

your enthusiasm was a straight-up power boost tbh! thank you, emi!!

---

jawn had been in the parking lot for over an hour. he thought showing up twenty minutes early was obnoxious, but he was excited. it turned out that things moved slowly, though, because he’d been standing a few feet away from the sprawling fence for seventy-three minutes. 

he was nervous, but he was so, so excited. for the first time in almost fifteen years, he was going to hug his mom. see her up close and touch her hands and squeeze her and tell her he loved her without a phone in his hand or a pane of glass between them. 

he’d thought about this moment for years. he remembered being at peace and purpose right after he’d been yanked from home, lying awake and imagining being in his mother’s arms again while calum quietly snored in the bed across the room. he remembered being homeless, wishing that the two of them could be in their tiny little house again, watching her dumb soaps on tv and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches on the couch. he remembered hesitating before shooting up for the first time, wondering what she’d say if she could see him. would she scream for him to stop? break down crying? no... he pictured her gently moving the needle. “bem aqui,” she’d tell him, directing the sharp point to a vein. right here.

he’d pushed it beneath his skin and slowly pressed the plunger down, praying he’d feel exactly what she felt. 

let it tear him apart.

and it did. 

but here he was, clean again. clean for months. a year. more. his NA chips were secure in the pocket of his jeans, nestled deep in the folds of his wallet. 

he pulled his light jacket tighter around his shoulders, shoved his hands into the pockets. “brilha, brilha estrelinha, lá no céu pequenininha,” he sang under his breath, unsure of why the little nursery rhyme had popped into his head. the morning was crisp, and it had been fine, but he’d been outside for so long that it was starting to affect him. he wandered closer to the fence, looking through. “mamãe,” he called softly. “onde você está, mamãe?” where are you?

another ten minutes passed. jawn shivered lightly and glanced up at the sun, which was shining weakly. was she coming? did something bad happen? were they not going to let her out? the thought had been at the back of his mind since ten minutes after the hour, but it was really starting to worry him. 

he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the front desk of the prison. as soon as the recorded menu started playing, jawn pressed 0. the phone rang a few times, and then someone picked up. “hello?”

“hi. i’m calling about someone who was supposed to be released at 9 this morning.”

“releases should have been processed by now, but sometimes it takes a while-”

just then, sixty-some yards away, the doors opened, and jawn’s heart seized up. everything froze as he watched, trying desperately to see around the guards. 

and there she was.

“mamãe!” jawn cried happily, and he hung the phone up without even so much as a thank you to the person on the other end. he should have felt self-conscious about all of the guards who’d been keeping an eye on him hearing him yell the equivalent of ‘mommy,’ but he didn’t care. he wove his fingers through the tall fence. “mamãe, mamãe,” he whispered to himself, smiling widely. 

she had real clothes on. this was the first time he’d seen her without her stupid, orange jumpsuit on since he’d been 17. they must have been the clothes she’d been wearing when she was arrested, jawn realized. the very shirt he’d clawed at as those men had dragged him away from her. overcome with emotion, hot tears filled his eyes, and he didn’t try to stop them from spilling over. 

the guard walking beside her stopped to let her through a locked gate, and jawn’s heart ached as she looked up at the sky and then down at all of the sparkling, gold jewelry on her arms. 

“mamãe!” he called. she looked over at him, and her smile grew wider. jawn began to softly sob. 

she walked alone down the last sidewalk, and jawn hovered a few feet away. (the guard on the outside of the perimeter had already told him twice to move back.) 

it took what felt like hours for the outside guard to unlock the door and let her through. jawn moved forward, intending to hug her right there, but she gleefully grabbed his hand and started to run. 

“where are we going?” jawn asked her in portuguese, laughing a little. 

“i am free!” she replied in english. 

“you are! you’re free, mamãe.” 

“free! free!” she kept running through the giant parking lot, dragging him along. 

jawn’s face hurt from smiling so hard. 

she slowed as she started to cry. “i never going back!”

“no, never,” jawn agreed. “you’re staying with me now.” 

she nodded and stopped and threw her arms around him. she pressed her face into his neck, and he felt her breathe in. “ohhhh, meu amor. meu bebê.” sobs shook through her. 

jawn held her tightly. “you’re so skinny,” he complained, laughing a bit. she was always her usual, plump self in his imagination. but everything else was perfect. 

“don’t worry; i’ll be fat again soon,” she replied in portuguese, and jawn laughed for real then. 

“eu te amo,” he told her tearfully. 

“eu também.” she leaned up to kiss his cheek several times. she patted at his dark beard. “don’t like.” 

jawn rolled his eyes fondly, pulling back. “you make it two seconds without saying something-”

“you say i too skinny. we even.” 

he’d never heard her say that before - ‘we’re even.’ that wasn’t even in her portuguese vocabulary. still, he couldn’t help but agree. “yeah, yeah, we’re even.” he leaned back in, squeezing her. “god, i missed you so bad.” 

“miss you, too.” she whacked lightly at his shoulder. “fala portuguese.” 

“tudo bem.” he shut his eyes and enjoyed the hug. “eu te amo,” he repeated. 

“amado...” she hummed. 

instantly, jawn flashed back to when he was a teenager. she’d only call him that - beloved  - when she really meant it. “mamãe,” he said, his voice broken, and he began to sob all over again. 

“meu amor, meu amor,” she whispered. 

“eu sinto muito.” i’m sorry.

“para quê?”

“everything,” he whispered. “it’s all my fault. you using, you getting sent away-”

mamãe stepped back and took hold of jawn’s cheeks. “you do nothing wrong. nothing.” 

wanting badly to believe her, he nodded. more tears fell down his face. 

she pressed her hands into his skin. “it’s better now. we better.” 

“better,” jawn echoed, nodding again. he stared at her as she kept holding his face in her hands. “i can’t believe you’re really here. like, you’re right here.” he reached out and touched her shoulder. “i missed you every day.” 

she pulled him back in. “te amo muitíssimo.”

“eu também te amo muito.” he squeezed his eyes shut. he knew they should get out of the parking lot, get her the hell away from the prison, but the only thing he wanted was to stay in his mother’s arms. he didn’t deny himself. they had all the time in the world. 

[bunnitears]

Nervous Habit

{ Reupload because I'm dumb.. don't ask }

Has your mom ever told you to never talk to people you don't know? "Y/N, you can never talk to strangers. You don't know what they're thinking." My mom would tell me that a lot as a child and I've always listened. Actually, it's now developed into a sort of problem.

I'm afraid of men. There. It's out in the open. And before somebody out there gets offended, I want to explain myself, without going into too much detail, that is.

I was hurt. I know, it's cliche, at least in my mind. "A young girl was victimized and was traumatized beyond repair." That sounds like the plot of almost every episode of Law and Order. But, it's my reality and I can't change the past. People tell me I can change the future, and sure, I absolutely can. But do I want to?

Not really… I don't see a need to try and conquer my fear. I'm not interested in dating or meeting a guy for any reason. And unfortunately, I'm just not romantically attracted to girls. Though sometimes I wish I was, I'm just not. And I don't want to try and date anyone I'm not attracted to. That's not fair for anybody involved. I'll settle for having close friends.

Speaking of close friends, the only one who knows of my fear is my best friend Maya. She's a Bengal cat shifter, and even though I'm a boring old human, we've been best friends for 7 years and counting.

We met in maybe 6th grade biology and bonded over knowing absolutely nothing about biology. And not really caring about it, either. We've been by each other's side ever since.

-----

12 Days Until Christmas

Maya and I have plans to go out for coffee and get some shopping done. We've decided to meet at the coffee shop down the street from my house around noon. When it's not too busy and not too cold as the sun is still out.

As I'm finishing getting ready, putting on a final coat of mascara, I see Maya's face pop up on my phone next to me.

"Hey hey!" I say cheerily as I put Maya on speaker. I'm really starting to get into the Christmas spirit.

"Hi…" Maya says. I immediately notice that she doesn't sound too good. Her voice sounds like the equivalent of tires rolling on gravel, just hoarse and crunchy.

"Maya are you alright? You don't sound too great." She starts to answer but is cut off by a coughing fit.

"Yeah… I'm okay. I just have a cold. I don't think I can go shopping today though…"

"Maya, of course you can't, you need to rest. Do you need any help? I can come over if you want." I tell her.

"No, please don't worry. Minhyuk's gonna come over after work. I'll be alright." Minhyuk is Maya's boyfriend. They've been together so long, maybe 3 years at this point. It's pretty incredible.

Seeing them together and almost nauseatingly happy, it sort of makes me yearn for somebody to hold. But, that would mean talking to somebody, and having social anxiety as bad as I do, that's not an easy task.

I can't even order coffee in person. I order online and pick it up to avoid talking to anybody. And before you say it, I do realize it's a problem, but it's easier to be alone. I can look for my Prince Charming later.

"Okay good," I start. "I'm sure with him by your side you'll be up and running by tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure. He always makes me feel better." She says. There was an attempt at a laugh, but that just turns into a lot of painful sounding coughs.

"But Y/N, can you do me a small favor?" Maya asks.

"Yeah Maya, whatever you need." And I do mean that. She is my best (and maybe only) friend after all.

"Can you please, please, pretty please woth a cherry on top, promise me that you'll go outside today." I should've known.

"I don't want you cooped up inside your apartment all day long. It's not healthy." I realize Maya is only looking out for me, but I like staying inside and I don't think she gets that. Even after knowing me for as long as she has.

"Maya, it's not a big deal…" I say. "But for you, I'll go out and do some shopping, okay? I'll even talk to somebody."

Do I mean that?

"Okay good! Great! Thanks Y/N, you know I'm only looking out for you. I'll text you later, okay?" Maya says sleepily.

"Okay, feel better Maya. Keep me posted. Bye."

No. I didn't mean what I said. Do I feel bad for lying to her? Absolutely. But I had to. Maya is often my only reason for going outside and if she knew how mad my social anxiety has been these past few weeks she'd be disappointed in me. She may even be mad at me. It's just easier if she thinks I can still go out and function.

I even work from home as a freelance proofreader. I already have my dream job - I'm reading for a career. I love it.

I make enough to sustain myself and put something away for savings. I don't have a car to make payments on. I have no pets to care for. I'm not strapped for cash.

I'm comfortable. I hardly leave my apartment unless I'm actually craving sunlight, but I'm happy with my life.

Although, maybe a pet wouldn't be so bad. My aunt has three dogs and she just adores them like her own children. Seeing her with them makes me think it may be a good idea to rescue a furry friend to keep my company. I've never really had a pet before, anyway.

I think I'll look into adopting a pet of some kind. I've heard they are theraputic after all and I'm sure Maya would say I could use some therapy.

-----

Four Days Until Christmas

"Maybe a cat would suit you better, you don't do the whole… "outside" thing and dogs need to go outside."

Maya says as she takes a bite of her turkey sandwich. Maya is finally feeling better and she asked me out for lunch on this very snowy winter day. I haven't been outside since before Maya got sick a little over two weeks ago. Adding that to the 3 weeks before she got sick that I didn't go outside, I haven't been outside in approximately… a sickeningly long amount of time. I know, pathetic. But I'd never tell Maya about it. She'd get angry and frustrated with me. It's not worth it.

For her sake, I told her I've been out of the house for at least an hour every other day and that seemed to ease her mind.

"You know what, that's probably a better idea." I say before taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I look at Maya as her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head at the revelation she seems to have stumbled upon.

"Actually, you know what!" She starts.

Staring straight into my eyes she nearly shouts,

"You should adopt a Hybrid!"

My own eyes widen at her comment. Adopt a Hybrid? I'm not sure about the social norms in your society, but in mine, Hybrids are tetering on the line between normal civilian and property. As barbaric as that sounds, it's just the truth of the matter.

While Shifters like Maya are widely accepted because of their ability to hide their animal counterparts almost completely, Hybrids are a different story. Hybrids have their ears, tails, scales, feathers, and whatever else they could have on full display at all hours of the day and society isn't okay with that.

And adopting a Hybrid is just not right in my eyes. No matter what you are, Human, Hybrid, Dragon, Goblin, you are not to be bought or sold.

"A Hybrid Maya? You know how I feel about that…" I sort of trail off my last statement because she does already know my views on this subject.

"I know, I know, but it's really not as big a deal as you make it out to be. Minhyuk was adopted and he has a great life!" Maya says enthusiastically. Minhyuk does have a great life. He was lucky enough to have a great owner named Jooheon who treats Minhyuk like he would a brother. But there's so many Hybrids who arent as lucky.

"I don't know Maya. The idea of "owning" another person is so… pre-Civil War-esque."

Maya sighs. "Y/N, I know that you know how badly some Hybrids are treated by their owners." She begins.

"But I know that you would never treat anybody badly. You're an amazing person once you break down those walls! I really think you should think about it. There's a lot of Hybrids who need help…"

She gives me a sympathetic smile and places her hand over mine. I know that there's thousands of Hybrids who need good homes. And yes, I know I'm perfectly capable of helping at least one of them.

I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of not being a good owner for them. I'm afraid of disappointing them. I just don't know if I'm a good enough person. But all Maya asked me to do was think about, so I guess I can give her that.

-----

Christmas Eve

Maya and I spent the rest of lunch that day talking about the pros and cons of adopting a Hybrid and by the end of it, I had made up my mind. I wanted to adopt one. But now that we're walking to the shelter on Christmas Eve, I'm even more depressed. It's freezing out, the snow must be 4 inches thick on the ground, there's people everywhere, and all I can think about is my book nook in my kitchen and the pile of books waiting for me.

Oh, and by the way, I had to make an appointment with a Hybrid Match Specialist at the shelter. They're supposed to help me find the right kind of Hybrid for me. Maya has been trying to explain the different species and subspecies of Hybrids to me as we walk to the shelter, but it's too much information. There's so many kinds! And they're all different in every way.

There's Reptile Hybrids who are better suited for people who like to explore and party. There's Dog Hybrids who work well with energetic, health conscious people. And Cat Hybrids who like someone calm and family oriented. And the list goes on and on.

Maya continues to ramble on about the differences and complexities of each Hybrid species as we finally reach the shelter in the middle of the city. The building in one of the tallest, it looks like nearly 40 stories. Why is this shelter so big, anyway?

I look up at the building towering over me and I'm frozen in my spot, not just from the cold, but from the events that will transpire in less than two hours. Maya continues walking into the building and all I can do is stare up at this building. I may end up leaving with a whole other person that I will be solely responsible for. And it's not just that, what if that person's a man? I really don't mean to be rude, I'm just not comfortable around men and I haven't been in a very long time. I'm horrified of walking into this building and it must show because Maya stands in front of me and takes my gloved hands in hers.

She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and says, "Y/N? Can you hear me?" I'm still looking up at the skyscraper. Thoughts zooming through my mind like a Nascar race. She places a hand on my cheek and lightly forces me to look in her eyes. She flashes me a sympathetic smile.

"If you really don't wanna do this, you don't have to. We can turn around right now and I can take you home." She says gently.

I know I can go home, all of this is voluntary, after all. I'm torn, I feel like I'm at war with myself. On one hand, I can walk into this building and come out with an adoring companion who will be with me until the end of my days. On the other hand, am I willing to let this person into my home? My safe space. The place I cherish and the place I know I can never be harmed? What if this person has ill intentions? What if they just wanna get out of the shelter and will do anything to make that happen? There's so many things that could go wrong, so many ways I could get hurt.

"I wanna do this." I say with a heavy sigh. Maya grips my hand tighter and pulls me by neck into a bone crushing hug. She says she's proud of me, says I won't regret this. I don't believe her, but I'd really, really like to.

[hopeful-despair-imagines]

Byakuya, Nagito, Gundham, Kokichi, and Gonta reacting to their S/O getting picked on.

I shortened the title a bit, but here is the full prompt:

How would Byakuya, Nagito, Gundham, Kokichi, and Gonta react to an S/O who has autism, and makes animal noises when happy? And one day they're out in public and someone makes fun of them so much they start crying?

I had a lot of fun writing this, it was a super sweet request!

- Mod Ri

Byakuya:

He’d do anything in his power for you, it didn’t matter how big or how small the task was, Byakuya would do anything to make his dear S/O happy.

When you were happy, you make sweet little animal noises. In turn, this made Byakuya truly happy, since he knew when you were happy and got to hear your pristine voice.

If someone ever made fun of you, oh boy. Byakuya wasn’t one to start a verbal argument in public, but he didn’t hold back when it came to his famous ‘rich boy glare’™, and the aura he radiated was extremely formidable, yet you felt safer than ever stood behind him.

But it could all be too much sometimes, and the jeers and insults would get to you, causing you to break down and cry.

How dare someone make his S/O cry!

With one last glare, he’ll take you out of the situation and back to safety.

Once you get home, his cold fa��ade drops almost immediately, as he holds you close and whispers sweet words to you.

It genuinely irks him when people make fun of you. Can’t they see just how perfect you are?

He’ll pamper you for the rest of the day, making sure to remind you just how wonderful you are.

“You shouldn’t listen to those people; they have no right to talk about you. I’ll always be here with you, so you have no need to worry.”

 Nagito:

Where to even begin? Nagito adored you, every single detail about you. You were his shining hope and he’d defend you until the bitter end if he had to.

In his eyes, you were basically a goddess and he was ecstatic that someone like you would spend time with him, let alone be in a relationship with him.

He couldn’t comprehend why some people would make fun of you and he often found himself wondering if their minds were tainted with such powerful despair that blinded them to the obvious hope standing in front of them.

If someone where to ever make the mistake of making fun of you in front of Nagito, they’d better be prepared for one long and tedious conversation.

It was perfectly normal for Nagito to monologue about hope and not giving into despair by picking on his S/O. He’ll get lost in the moment and is normally pulled back to reality by someone getting physical with him or the person he was talking to just walking away.

Now, be prepared to be spoilt for the rest of the day. If you want to stay out, Nagito will take you anywhere you’d like and buy you everything that catches your eye.

He’ll keep your hand held tightly in his as you both walk around, but if you want to go home, he totally understood.

At home the white-haired boy will take you straight to your shared room and cuddle with you on the bed, all the while making a point of telling you how perfect you are.

In return this made you extremely happy and you’d let out a few small mewls, which made Nagito very glad.

“Ah, I love you so much S/O! You’re the light of my life!”

 Gundham:

Gundham could be quite… odd at times, but all his talk about otherworldly beings didn’t stop him from loving you in the slightest.

He referred to you as the “feared demon queen”, which you loved. You knew he had somewhat of an obsession with the occult, so being equivalent to the demon queen in his eyes surely meant he cared about you to a great extent.

Whenever you were happy, you’d make a variety of animal noises, ranging from a small bark to a soft squeak. Sometimes the Devas would respond with their own exited squeaks, much to Gundham’s delight.

He was glad you could get along with his beloved Devas and was even happier that they’d communicate with you, it was just more proof that his S/O was the true demon queen!

All hell was bound to break loose if anyone dared speak ill about you. It was if Gundham had literally opened a gate to the underworld, his aura switched from sweet and gentle to fierce and intimidating in the blink of an eye.

One time, Gundham had left you for a few minutes to go and grab something from a nearby store, you agreed to wait for him since he told you it was a birthday surprise for you! What he didn’t expect was to find you in tears upon returning.

You’d explained everything that has happened in his short absence and obviously the demon lord himself was enraged, but for now, he had to focus his energy on cheering his precious S/O up.

He’d take you home and sit you down on the sofa, letting you hold the fluffy Devas for comfort.

A hot drink and many cuddles with Gundham (and the Devas!) later, and you’ll be back to your cheery demeanour in no time.

“S/O, my cherished Demon Queen! This was intended for your birthday, but I’d like to bestow it upon you in this moment if you’d allow it.”

He pulled out a glimmering silver box which contained a magnificent silver band for your wrist. Apparently, it would connect your souls to one another, to keep each other close, even when apart.

With a high-pitched squeak, you flung your arms around his neck.

He held on to you tightly as the Devas squeaked back in happiness, thinking that you were communicating with them.

 Kokichi:

He found you super cute, like super high school level cute.

He’d fuss over you often, and people liked to joke about him being surgically attached to you. The reason he stayed so close to you, was that people had hurt you emotionally in the past, and there was no way Kokichi would allow that to happen whilst he was around.

You were walking hand in hand through the mall, just having a good time. Holding Kokichi’s hand made you super happy, so you would quietly mewl and squeak in delight every now and again.

One time when you did this, a random passer-by just happened to hear you mewling and smiling and Kokichi. Let’s just say that passer-by wasn’t a nice person and began to make fun of you, completely ignoring Kokichi’s presence – big mistake.

Kokichi’s way to get people to leave you alone was to threaten to ‘get dice to come after them’. However, nobody had the faintest idea what ‘dice’ was, so it was a pretty ineffective tactic.

The person being confronted by Kokichi would often just leave on their own accord, being unable to take the furious purple-haired boy seriously.

“S/O don’t cry. That’s lame, silly!”

When Kokichi realised that you were genuinely upset, he grabbed your hand and whirled you home.

Plan: ‘Make Happy’ was in full swing. He sat you down on the sofa and put on his favourite comedy for you to watch.

He sat down with you and pulled you closer to him, hoping you'd lay down and cuddle with him.

Truthfully, you needed a good cuddle, and who better to receive them from than the ultimate supreme leader himself?

He was glad to see your mood lift when you started quietly humming along to some of the songs featured throughout the show.

"Hey, S/O, wanna go prank Kiiboy?"

An excellent idea. You both got up and devised the perfect plan together.

This was going to be one fun day!

Gonta:

Gonta didn't fully understand the concept of autism, but he loved and treasured you nonetheless. You were extremely precious to him.

Truth be told, he found your way of expressing happiness to be absolutely adorable.

Whenever you were both together, people never seemed to pick on you. It was likely that they were intimidated by Gonta's large and muscular figure.

However, when Gonta wasn't around, people would normally pick on you if you were to express your happiness.

Tears streaming down your face, you'd run home to Gonta, collapsing into his loving embrace once you'd arrived.

He'd quickly take to comforting you. Caressing your hair, cuddling with you, or just sitting with you, Gonta would do anything if it meant you'd cheer up.

When you'd eventually cheer up, he'd offer to take you out for a picnic. You both lived together beside a beautiful forest, which was the perfect location for romantic picnics.

With a quick nod, you'd jump up and go prepare. You liked to help Gonta cut up little sandwiches, savouring every single second you spent together.

Upon arrival, you'd rather hastily plop down on the checkered blanket Gonta had brought, and began taking in the gorgeous surroundings.

Getting to spend time with Gonta was always the highlight of your day, and usually overshadowed anything bad that had happened previously in the day.

"S/O, look! A butterfly, it reminds Gonta of you!"

You watched happily as a petite Chalk Hill Blue butterfly danced through the air, until it decided to rest on a nearby flower.

A mewl of happiness escaped your lips as a few more flew past, their enchanting blue wings fluttering in the breeze.

Carefully, you moved closer to the insect and reached your hand out to it. It made its way onto your index finger, as another mewl of delight left your lips.

Then you slowly turned back around to show your beloved boyfriend, a wide grin present on your face.

"Gonta thinks S/O is the perfect partner!"

[excuseme-howdareyou]

Werewolf Jason Todd

@dickisabanana

All things considered, if this was the way he was going to die, what a way to go. Tim always assumed he would go down in a fight, gory and bloody, overtaken by a horde of League Assassins or if he was being creative an army of explosive robots.

He never though the end would come buried under 200 lbs of pure fluff.

"My legs are falling asleep," he complained, shoving at the wolf uselessly. Jason opened one eye to give him the wolf equivalent of a stink eye and adjusted so that he was laying more on top of Tim's torso than his legs. Tim flopped back onto the floor, the unexpected weight on his chest giving him no room to move.

"That is not what I meant!"

Jason laughed, or grumbled (it was hard to tell in his primal form), and adjusted again. It didn't help. "At least let me sit on the couch so I can work on my laptop," Tim actually, honest to god pleaded.

Just then, Dick walked into the living room, munching on a sandwich. He stopped and grinned when he saw Tim slowly suffocating under Jason's primal form. "The shift went well I take it?" he commented.

Jason raised his big head and nodded in a very human-like way, his tail thumping once on the hardwood floor. Despite Tim still trying to push him off, he didn't budge. Dick ignored his pleas for help. "See I told you having a big meal before the shift would help," he told Jason," You're always so... hangry when you shift on an empty stomach."

Jason gave the approximation of a yawn. "And now you're just tired," Dick correctly guessed.

"And I'm being squished!" came Tim's indignant cry.

"Who's being squished?" Steph popped her head in.

"Me!" Tim's arm flailed on Jason's other side, waving desperately at her to rescue him. Jason, the ass, just laid his head down on Tim's shoulder and closed his eyes to go sleep. "Could someone help me out here?!"

Steph stepped fully into the room and Dick told her," Jason's pack instincts are a little strong tonight. Since he's not focused on hunting and feeding, he's gone into big puppy mode."

Jason gave a low growl at that.

"Well you are right now," Dick argued matter of factly.

"If all he needs is a cuddle and nap," Steph was smiling ear to ear as she sat down on the couch," Then come up here, big guy!"

Maybe it was her open offer. Maybe it was Tim's finger poking harshly into his side. Or maybe it really was because Jason's pack instincts were strong and he'd spent so many years without a pack, that now that he had one he was fiercely protective of them and just wanted to be around them as much as possible when he shifted. Not that he would ever admit to that last one, human form or no.

But either way, with an exaggerated sigh, he lifted himself off Tim and clambered over to Steph and the couch. Once he could speak again, he'd comment that Tim was too bony anyways and a wolf could hardly get a proper nap around him. The truth was, as he settled his forelegs and head into Steph's lap, Steph just smelled better. Like fresh shampoo and the cookies she stole from the kitchen. (He'd have to remember to steal some later)

Later, after they came back from patrol where hopefully he'd get to sink his teeth into some criminal. ("No hamstringing, Jason" god, he could already hear Bruce's lecture) But for now, he was exhausted. The initial shift always took a lot out of him, leaving him starving and tired. He'll punch Dick in the face before he ever says it, but... the idiot had had a good idea when he sat Jason down in front of an Alfred-prepared meal an hour before twilight.

Eyes closed, Jason became idly aware of fingers running through his mane. 'I'm not a pet,' he wanted to tell Steph, but both physically couldn't and well... it felt nice. Oh well, he was tired. Nap time.

"You are a pathetic excuse of a werewolf," Tim said, though full of endearment," Some terrifying beast of the night you are."

'Could still tear you to shreds,' Jason thought.

[fuckingfinwions]

Does Fingon's escape makes Feanor tigthen his mesures on the bastards?

Feanor increases measures to prevent escape, but doesn’t actually punish anyone but Fingon. There are more guards at the corridors between the harem and the rest of the palace, and in the courtyards. None of the Bastards are allowed unsupervised even in interior courtyards anymore - there are guards, who will only leave if Feanor or one the Princes tells them to.

The Bastards also have to personally check in at lunch and late afternoon unless they’re currently having sex, so if one of them does escape it will be noticed sooner. The check in includes children. Maedhros is put in charge of this, as an opportunity for him to learn better habits than the long leash he gave Fingon.

Feanor might’ve done something more drastic if he thought the Bastards had worked together to plan the escape. But they can’t have all been in on it; Turgon is the one who brought the matter to Feanor’s attention.

Turgon’s daughter was missing, and he didn’t think Finrod knew where she was either. Finrod had said he’d look, and then walked off (and all the way out of the harem, not that Turgon knew that). Turgon had already asked Nolo and the other Bastards if they knew, or i there was some sort of group activity for the children planned, and they didn’t. So either Idril either had gone out into the city where she would certainly be lost and confused, had been kidnapped by someone in the palace who would do terrible things to her, or was being picked on by some of the Princes.

Turgon has a “better the devil you know” attitude about Feanor’s ownership of the Bastards. (Turgon assumes that anyone who sees them Bastards will want to rape them, generalizing from the Princes - the only people they speak with who are allowed to leave the harem. The Princes normally don’t want the most painful possible sex, and will stop if the Bastards get injured more than expected, so are not the worst imaginable rapists.) And Feanor would definitely go after someone who stole Idril, bringing her back where Turgon has at least a chance of redirecting people away from her. So in the first two cases, going to Feanor would be immediately helpful for Idril’s safety. (Feanor might take it out on Turgon for letting Idril get lost, but it would be worth it.)

The last would be allowed by Feanor as long as it wasn’t sexual or permanently injuring, but Idril is a growing child and had missed lunch. If one of the Princes found making a little girl cry fun, could they at least let Turgon give her a sandwich? Turgon would like the Princes to stop of course, but trying to tell Feanor that the Princes should have any limits on their cruelty towards the Bastards is bad idea, and Turgon knows this. (Feanor would consider spending five hours making someone cry without even getting off yourself a terrible use of time and a waste of the Princes’ skills. He’d say the equivalent of “stop playing video games and go outside or read a book”, but the end result would be Idril no longer tormented.)

Turgon went up to Feanor in the forge and waited for Feanor to reach a good stopping point. Then he explained that he wasn’t sure where Idril was, and hadn’t seen her since breakfast. Though of course the Bastards will stay anywhere for however long Feanor or the Princes wanted them to, Turgon doesn’t think Idril is very interesting to them yet. He’s worried that Idril might’ve wandered somewhere unsafe, and could get injured if she’s say, high up a tree and decides to jump down. (Turgon has already checked all the trees, and linen cupboards with doors that could stick, and under beds, and anywhere else he can think of. But Feanor will be pissed if Idril has actually let the harem, so Turgon is trying to delay that realization.) Could Feanor ask some of the guards to look for her? (For obvious reasons, the guards do not obey orders from the Bastards. The servants will fulfill written requests for food or new clothes or most other items, or for how a room should be cleaned, but aren’t supposed to speak with the Bastards. This a) prevents the Bastards from potentially making friends outside the harem and b) means Feanor has a written record of who asked for what if the Bastards ever attempt to get something to use against him).

Feanor directs a guard to help, and checks with the Princes that they didn’t lock her somewhere out of the way and forget. He establishes that none of them have. Maedhros goes to check with Fingon if he’s seen Idril as she’s friends with Gil-Galad, and reports back that Fingon isn’t where he was expected to be either.

And then Finwe summons Feanor to a meeting about keeping Finrod his illegal prisoner, and Feanor realizes it was an escape attempt.