#∷『 THREADS 』— elias b. ∷

[lcrissas]

＊   𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗  𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥          ››         @delicatlueur ＊   𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚          ››         lari  &  player's  choice  ! ＊   𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡          ››          coney  island  ,  brooklyn ＊   𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧          ››          valentine's  day  carnival

          “  kids  will  say  the  darndest  things  .  i  was  working  at  the  balloon  dart  booth  and  out  of  nowhere  a  kid  flat  out  tells  me  mommy  and  daddy  don’t  sleep  in  the  same  bed  while  the  parents  are  standing  right  next  to  him  .  and  they’re  looking  mortified  as  they  try  to  save  face  .  i  have  a  feeling  they  left  and  won’t  be  returning  .  ”

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 10.5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: i just think we deserve Multi 21 as a seperate mini chapter.

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444 @mploopssek @snakelore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @lordpercevalcharles

2013, Sepang International Circuit

09:00 of Race Day

Formula 1 is the worst sport that could ever exist.

Its one of the only sports that doesn't just need talent because no matter how talented you are, you also need sheer luck. It also doesn't matter how good a driver is, if the person doesn't have the proper car or strategy then they are fucked.

Furthermore, its the only sport wherein everyone is your rival. Even if the sport requires you to be in a team, you can’t even trust your teammate to help you. Every man is out there for himself on the track. It is highly possible that your teammate is your biggest rival as you have the same car and specs.

One could understand how relationships in this sport is always hanging on a thread with every race.

"You doing okay there?"

Sebastian was driving but he could see from his peripheral view how engross Y/N is with her laptop. She had been a bit stressed out with frown lines permanently etched on her forehead since he picked her up a while ago.

"Nothing much, its just Jenson and his new teammates are fighting so much" Y/N sighs.

The statements have been taken out of proportion by media outlets and now Jenson's image was not good to the public. She have to do some damage controls and some new strategy to convince the public that they don't mean any bad blood with one another.

"Oh so this is what Britta is suffering when me and your brother fights"Sebastian chuckles.

"Yeah so you better be good and don't make a lot of trouble for Britta"Y/N reminds.

Y/N was back on her work after the brief banter and Sebastian just had the inkling that he wanted to hold her hand. With his free hand, he laced it towards her and pressed a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

"What was that for?"

"Nothing, I just love you"Sebastian admits.

This was something that has certainly changed ever since they opted to navigate their relationship. Sebastian has been a bit bold and touchy when they are in private, the Red Bull driver never shies away from being honest about how he feels. Often times, Y/N is overwhelmed by it with a pink tint on her cheeks.

"You make weekends better"he adds "I always look forward to these car rides with you so we can have a moment for ourselves before the whole race"

No matter how chaotic this sport is, Sebastian is at ease with her by his side.

10:18 of Race Day

Mark felt like he wanted to glare at Sebastian as soon as he entered the garage. He watched as everyone especially the female staffs becomes enamored with Sebastian. The German driver has also been thriving with the attention with how his flirty smiles and lingering touches.

There was a boiling anger in Mark. He couldn't fathom how Sebastian has been playing along his sister after what he saw in Brazil 2012. He is frustrated that her sister is blind about the whole thing. Mark thinks that if he hadn't been a shit brother then maybe Y/N would listen to him.

"Control your face"Christian warned "If the media sees that they will be out there like hounds spinning a story about you and Sebastian not playing good with each other"

"But that's what exactly is happening"Mark muttered

"Mark please we don't want distractions from the actual race, we're here to win"

As much as Mark would like to say that Christian is wrong, it was true. The media coverage has been a source of stress that may affect a driver's performance once they are on track. Instead of resting after a race then they may have to answer tactless interview questions or be judged by public opinion.

So here is Mark putting up a friendly smile.

"That's much more better, keep your chin up"Christian patted his shoulder before leaving.

It was just another regular day of Mark trying his best to be in the good graces of Red Bull. He keeps the heavy sigh he wants to release out to himself and went to Sebastian's group with his forced smile.

"Hey mate, you doing okay?"

"Mark, good to see you today"

And so it begins.

11:54 of Race Day

No doubt, there is rivalry in the sports but that is something that should exist on the track and not outside of it. It was not uncommon that drivers hang out together since they only have each other to talk to with their hectic schedule and crazy lifestyle.

So a few hours before the race, Y/N is in the middle of lunch with Jenson, Nico and Lewis.

"I'm telling you guys that Checo is someone you don't want to be teammates with"Jenson angrily stabs his salad.

"Would you shut up!"Y/N hit Jenson at the back of his head "Do you know how much I spent this morning trying to appease Checo's sponsors because of your comments"

"But Y/N, he isn't a good teammate and did you see what he did to me in Australia"Jenson defends himself.

"Yeah but you two are in a race so there must be some wheel-to-wheel action every now and then"Y/N ever the voice of reason.

In Formula 1, sometimes a driver has to be selfish and think about his standing first before the team. When they want to be a world champion then every points matter so she honestly don't think that Checo is in the wrong here. Checo just wanted points.

"I am so glad we have a good working relationship"Lewis chuckled as he fistbump with Nico

"Boohoo in a few years you will be suffering too"Jenson taunts.

"No way, we have the power of friendship by our side"Nico confidently stated.

"Why don't you try to be friends with Checo first? Maybe you can find some interest or common ground"Lewis suggested.

"That's a great idea with you two filming tooned then maybe you can work"Y/N applauds.

Jenson just shakes his head and bangs his head to the counter of the table. It was so easy for them to tell this when he was the one driving the car and having to fight off a teammate.

"And why are you so miserable Jenson" Sebastian joins the group with his lunch "You look like shit man"

"Finally, someone who understands a teammate that is trying to kill me"Jenson's face lit up upon seeing Sebastian "Just tell them how hard it is to function in a sport where your teammate is trying to kill you"

"Watch it"Y/N grumbles. She has to remind them that Sebastian's team mate is still her brother. They may have their differences but he is still her brother.

"It's really how it works Jenson"Sebastian's safe answer "We don't always get lucky like the Mercedes bestfriends over here"

Nico and Lewis gave each other a high five again as they laughed at Jenson's misery. It was so rare for Formula 1 team mates to be in a good relationship with one another much more to have them as your bestfriend.

While Jenson continues grumbling about how its unfair, Sebastian scoots closer to Y/N. It was something that didn't miss the eagled eye of the two Mercedes drivers. They grin with each other knowing that there is a certain progress in the relationship of the two.

13:17 on Race Day

Corinna admits that since Michael officially retired, she kind of miss weekends such as this one. It was something that she has been used to ever since she started dating Michael so missing out a few Grand Prix felt weird for her.

"Corinna!"Y/N called out and in her high heels she cones running to give her a hug.

For Corinna, Y/N is like a little sister in the paddock. She was one of the people that Corinna dearly miss because she is always travelling with F1 related things.

"Why didn't you tell me you are coming? I only heard from Seb that he saw you wandering around the paddock"Y/N said.

"It was a last minute kind of thing with Michael, you know him"Corinna admits.

Up until Friday, they weren't sure whether to go. However, Michael has been persuaded by Ross Brawn to attending even just the race so here they are.

"Speaking of Sebastian"Corinna starts "How come you didn't tell me about you two being an item"

It was now Y/N's turn to be speechless. Corinna noted how the confident girl suddenly shied away and the lovestruck expression hits her face.

"We're not yet an item, still navigating things"

"You are still going to be an item" Corinna clapped in glee.

She had long waited for this one. Mick has also been roped to play cupid several times so they can get to confess their feelings. She couldn't count how many times she accidentally dropped hints so that little Schumi will confront the two to tell their feelings.

"It can be very overwhelming, we don't want to make mistakes"Y/N explains "This world is everchanging"

Corinna agrees. She could remember the early days when she started dating Michael. It was a lot of stress and unfortunate events but hey they made it out those rough times together. They are still going strong even now.

"You have to be there with him okay"Corinna advices "The place on the top can be very lonely so he counts on you to be there"

Y/N nods her head in agreement. Corinna knows that the competition can be a lot at times but with Y/N by Sebastian side then maybe she could balance him out.

"C'mon, I think I saw some ice cream. I'll treat you to celebrate your new relationship"

"Corinna, its still not a relationship"

14:40 on Race Day

It was a feat for Sebastian to sneak out of the Red Bull garage to go to the McLaren ones. He knows that he has a few minutes left before he has to get in the car but he needs a goodluck charm today and he will be damned if he won't have it.

"A lot going on your mind?"Sebastian asked surprising the Webber girl.

"Sebastian"she looks shocked "What are you doing here? The race is about to start"

Sebastian pulled Y/N behind the garage away from the eyes of everyone.

"But I have to see you"Sebastian enveloped her in a hug.

He never expected himself to be clingy to someone but having Y/N changes things. It was like a need for him to be closer to her and he never want to go away from her. Y/N seems to find these interactions more comforting than the usual things she do to calm herself down before a race.

"You stay safe later, okay? Eyes on the track"Y/N pointed out

"I'll get a P1 for you okay?"Sebastian promised.

"I don't care, just no incidents or accidents"

Sebastian pressed a small kiss on her forehead. It was his way of assuring her that he will come back safe to her. He wished he could stay here forever but the revving of the cars signals that the show is about to start.

"Till later Y/N"

15:40 in Race Day

The crowd watches excitedly as the Red Bull and Mercedes team mates go up against one another. They seem to be pumped about what's about to unfold in the next twenty laps because the big question is would they be forced to obey team orders or are they ready to battle it out with one another.

Both of them had a different result

Nico and Lewis are battling out with the 3rd and 4th place. The team orders were to save tyres so that both cars could finish the race and both of them can receive points that is crucial for the long run. Nico was advised not to fight Lewis and let him pass.

It is never an easy decision to let your team mate by and gift him a spot in the podium but Nico quietly resigned to this team decision. He followed what has been ordered.

On the other side, The Red Bull drivers faced the same dilemma.

Mark Webber was in the lead with P1. The radio message was clear Multi 2-1. It means that Mark as Car no. 2 should retain his position and Sebastian as Car no. 1 should retain himself at the second place. This was a clear strategy that they have discussed in meetings before.

"Multi 21, multi 21"Rocquelin repeated in the radio message "Sebastian its Multi 21 and also save your tyres"

But it seems to fall on deaf ears as Sebastian pursues Mark to race him for P1.

Mark was confused about the whole thing because he thought the radio message was clear. He finds himself fired up while the crowd goes wild with the intense wheel-to-wheel action between the two drivers.

The camera pans to the garages of McLaren, where Y/N is staying. It felt like a deja vu from years ago when she was staying at the Red Bull garage. Today, the title reads 'Y/N Webber, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend and Mark Webber's sister.'

She obviously did not notice that the cameras were on her with the way she is staring at the monitors. She was clutching her necklace and the usually composed Y/N seems to be fading. The commentators are already discussing how difficult it must be for Y/N to be caught in the middle of this whole fiasco.

It returns back to the view on track where Sebastian gains an advantage over Mark. The crowd roars in disbelief about the way Sebastian has disobeyed team orders. Adrian Newey was shaking his head in disappointment and Christian has a strange look on his face.

As the final lap finishes, the crowd stands up. It was not a cheer that Sebastian heard once he lifted his helmet but a series of boos and disapproving look from the onlookers.

16:45 on Race Day

The podium was awkward and Y/N knew that everyone was clamoring to get a statement from the two Red Bull drivers, who are visibly upset with one another. Y/N squeezed herself to the crowd in an attempt to get to Sebastian before the media does.

"It was Sebastian's fault. he was leading in the championship so why not just give this win to his team mate?"

"Sebastian Vettel is a selfish and arrogant man, Mark is unlucky to have him as a team mate"

"He does whatever he wants thats why he is a World Champion and Webber is not"

Everyone has their varying opinions of the Multi 21 incident. She badly wants to say something but her involvement can make things messier, she has to think rationally so she won't contribute to the fire.

The media pen was bursting in an electric tension as they conduct the interviews. Y/N felt a cold shiver runs down her spine as she listens to both of them discuss about the events of today. She has seen them countless of times mad with each other after a race gone bad but this makes everything seems like childsplay.

"Y/N Webber, I'm a reporter from FOX sports, what can you say about this whole fiasco about your bestfriend and your brother?" someone suddenly approached her.

All of the attention was on her all of a sudden. The panic flashed in her eyes as several other reporters starts to direct their microphones to her.

"I'm not a part of this.."

"Y/N Webber, which side do you support here?"

"Y/N from Sky Sports, are you in good terms with your brother?"

The flashing lights were a lot and Y/N felt someone grabbed her to shield her away from them. She smelled the familiar perfume of Sebastian wafting through her noses.

"It's going to be okay, I'll get you out" Sebastian whispers.

They make their way out of the room. From the distance, Y/N could hear Mark yelling at the media, which is his attempt to get the media's attention away from her.

"Leave my sister alone, she isn't a part of this"Mark stated "If you have any questions go and direct it to me and I'll answer every single one of you"

And this was the start of the shitstorm.

[king7doms]

Vague wishlist ideas for various muses. DM me if you're interested in plotting/threading these out <3:

Daenys: The start of the doom of Valyria / the escape. Visenya & Rhaenys: Threads with others during Aegon's conquest, and after (including a soon to be written AU where Rhaenys lives longer), with their rule in Westeros. Viserys I: Ceding the crown to Rhaenyra BEFORE his death, when his health declines, so that there is no question of the succession Viserys III: Staying behind in comfortability in Pentos until after he hears of the dragons being born / finding Dany after the death of Drogo and the dragons hatching. Rhaenyra / Harwin: Them marrying instead of her marrying Laenor (I write both so let's goooooo). Aegon II: Refusing to marry Helaena and/or refusing to be crowned, ceding the crown to Rhaenyra. Helaena: Leaving King's Landing after B&C with Jaehaera and Maelor (verse dependent obvi if you're show based, I will exclude Maelor) either across the narrow sea on Dreamfyre or attempting to seek refuge with Rhaenyra on Dragonstone. Myrcella: Her and Trystane deciding to wed without permission before anyone comes to Dorne to bring her back to King's Landing. Her surviving her trip back to King's Landing and reuniting with her family. Lyanna: Surviving childbirth, either raising Jon herself as a bastard ward, or playing as an aunt to him after letting Ned take him on as a bastard to keep her and her secret with Rhaegar safe. Rhaegar and her surviving and raising Jon, her becoming a second wife to Rhaegar (we ignore the annulment theory here woops but wouldn't if plotted) and Elia. Robb: More in the AU I have (written down somewhere that is clearly not on this blog yet woops) where he does not go to the Red Wedding because he is called away in a battle, but Catelynn and his wife go (could also change) and are killed instead. Him reuniting with his siblings is the most important part for me, thanks. Harwin: Escaping the fire in Harrenhal and surviving, heading back to KL.

[lairde-lampblack]

sitting here with my hands fouled like a james bond villain rn. So. Oops All Avatar Au 👁️👁️

(u have consumed my brain for the next forever please continue 🩷🩷🩷)

WHEEZE you're good! I'm genuinely delighted you love the concept!

So, for those that didnt click the readmore, the timeline order of who ended when will be: sasha (mid-unknowing, she falls into the crack in the house on hilltop road), tim (around when jon wakes up in canon, he was racing against helen to the middle of the spiral, and them fighting over it collapses the tunnels around them right as tim's becoming), martin (when martin gets lonelied in canon, jon is the one lost and martin goes into a rage and accidentally sets off elias' dead man's trigger), and jon (lives in canon, timeline goes back right when the eyepocalypse starts)

i even have titles for them all! sasha is the Fiddler, because she uses wide broad strokes on woven threads to learn about their machinations (shes also the one who pulls everyone back into one collapsed timeline through the crack at hilltop road); tim is the Architect, because of a. his obsession with smirke, b. the distortion's propensity towards confusing building plans, c. his dedication to building a better future after the time travel; martin is the Captain, because he stole the captainship from plukas, he trends well towards leadership as needed though he works better in groups, and also the lonely ship theming; then jon is obviously archivist/archive

a lot of sasha tim and martin assuming jon is normal is because, not just because he died so early on for them, but also the fact that in those timelines he simply didnt express any supernatural abilities. the Crisiseses stunted his avatar growth

[twistedtummies2]

If there was an epic mickey twisted wonderland event, what would the blot version be?

I don't WANT them to do something like that, really, because a.) not 100% sure how you'd combine the two, and b.) my beloved Elias already dangles on a thread above the precipice of obsolescence. Please don't let him drop in. 8'(

With that said, I do still want to see if I can ever write a story with Eli meeting @norman6321ify's Mad Doctor OC, inspired heavily by the version from Epic Mickey, Xavier Madoc. We'll see when/if such a thing can occur.

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 121 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: baking something with apples

This is the last episode with my favorite ambiance track :´) We haven't heard it at all in S3. All in all, the ambiance music in S3 got a lot less melodic than the one in S1 and S2. Although, S2 already used the less melodic tracks as well.

Oh right, the Patreon thanks are starting now! I haven't given all of them a listen, I think I'll do it here. 

To add something about Jon's coma: I read in a post yesterday that someone wondered how they even found out Jon was still alive. I'm kind of guessing there is something like Section 31 in medical as well. People who are somewhat trained for "weird" cases, even though they don't understand them. To fix that plot hole I'd say Elias called in, telling them this particular person is still alive even though he's neither breathing nor has a heartbeat. And considering, that Jon is dreaming, I'd headcanon his closed eyes rapidly moving.

OLIVER: "Um. Hello, Jon. Do you… mind if I call you Jon? I, I mean, you don’t actually know me. It’s just, well. 'Archivist.' It’s so formal, isn’t it?" Reasons why I love Oliver Banks, exhibition #658 xD No seriously, I think Oliver Banks is one of the most interesting Avatars out there and I'd say he's my favorite of all those Avatars we only meet tangentially. Death is such a complicated subject in itself and Oliver makes it look so... neutral. I mean, the End in itself appears relatively inactive, not having a Ritual and all. Anyway, Oliver calls Jon by his (human) name, is even unsure if he's allowed to do that, since they don’t "actually" know each other. But he respects that this is, who Jon is. Who he wishes to remain, regardless of which choice he’ll make. Oliver thinks of this although he has kind of lost touch with his name(s), since he'll just take any identity which works best for him at the moment.

OLIVER: "And I do kind of know you…? Haven’t had much choice, really. Dreams are like that, you know." I really, really wonder what that means. Did he see Jon's life hanging by a thread. Did he see nothing at all because he’s in a place where the End can’t touch him? Or does he already see a root piercing his heart? Does Jon actually have any agency in this? (He has been denied to die once before, MAG 101...)

OLIVER: "No matter how lucid you think they are, there’s always that part that just drags you along." Meta-comment about said agency?

OLIVER: "That’s how it works, right? Give you a terror; give you a dream?" Oliver in his dreams being like "Alright, I'm done checking out how person A, B and C will die, time for my Point Nemo date with Jon..."

Hmm, is there a soft crackling sound in the background?

"So. My name is Oliver Banks. In my other statements, I used the name Antonio Blake" When I was first listening I still could recall the general premise of MAG 11 quite well, including the name of the statement giver. So I already had my suspicions after all this talk about dreams, especially when talking about Gertrude. And then he says this sentence! I love those "I knew it!" moments^^

"I knew exactly what I had to do. He didn’t look anything like me, not really" Not really! Iirc, this season will have tons of not reallys. So I'll start counting! S4 Not Really #1

"There were a couple of marine biologists on board, a meteorologist, an engineer, someone who called herself a “macro-ecologist” – though at times, she looked almost as out of her depth as I did." Fake it till you make it!

“This too shall pass.” If I had a nickel for every podcast with a troubled, with eye imagery associated Eldritch character named Jo(h)n who owns a mysterious lighter and had a life altering experience while in a coma I'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice...

"The rest of the crew didn’t seem to notice, walking through the immense, grasping tendrils like they weren’t there at all" Wasn't there something about "TMA will not have tentacles!"? xD

"But I barely got the first word out before the falling satellite debris hit the ship at 200 miles an hour, killing us instantly." So, did Oliver just walk on the ocean floor back to London?

OLIVER: "Honestly, I’m still not exactly sure why I’m here. But you know better than anyone how the spiders can get into your head. Easier to just do what she asks." More of the Web shenanigans to make sure Jon stays on the right path...

OLIVER: "Oh, I, I’m a friend. Of Jon’s." GEORGIE: "Are you, now." OLIVER: "Uh, y-yes." I mean, Oliver seemed to be a kind of hesitant type there at the beginning of the episode. But this seems like he's a bit intimidated? Considering this is no-fear-because-touched-by-the-End Georgie, it would fit.

OLIVER: “��have I upset you, miss –” GEORGIE: “No, you just remind me of someone.” OLIVER: “Ahhh, I’m sorry! Were they –” GEORGIE: “Evil. Yes.” Hm, another throwback to MAG 101,“Is a thing evil when it simply obeys its own nature?” What makes someone evil? It sounds like Georgie is implying that she considers Oliver evil as well? But if we going by that definition, Jon would be evil as well.. I think Oliver and Jon are quite similar. Neither of them asked for this but here they are.

GEORGIE: [sigh] "Sorry about that, but you really don’t need friends like tha…" Arg, this makes me so angry again! This constant patronizing... Georgie knew this was an End avatar, I mean she said he reminded her of someone evil - the corpse who took her fear. What was she thinking Oliver was doing here? That he had come and finally claim Jon? And she shooed him away because she didn't want that? Because she's not too happy about him waking up either, so was that the reason she wanted Oliver nowhere near Jon? Status quo can’t remain forever. So what's it gonna be? A dead human friend? Or an alive something-else friend?

@a-mag-a-day

[20dollarlolita]

Just a couple of pictures of hook/bobbin areas on a sewing machine.

The little green gizmo is the bobbin. In the animation up top, the circle represents the bobbin. When we take out the bobbin (and in this case, the bobbin retaining collar) we can see the black bobbin case. In this specific style of machine (called a "horizontal rotary hook"), the bobbin is held into the case just by gravity. This is also called a "drop-in bobbin" machine because the bobbin just drops in, but horizontal rotary hook is a more accurate description.

If we take out the bobbin case, we can see the hook. Technically, the entire metal loop that goes around the bobbin is the hook, but the point of the hook that actually grabs the thread is where the arrow is.

The red part in the animation spins because that's a part of the machine, and the machine is designed to spin it. In the case of this machine, there's a gear underneath.

If anyone has wondered why, after 130 years of making sewing machines, no one has figured out how to make a sewing machine where you put a full spool of thread in the bobbin (and therefore don't have to wind bobbins or run out of bobbin anymore), the answer is that the top thread has to pass entirely around the thread on the bottom. There's no other way to make the lockstitch that sewing machines use. The smaller the bobbin, the easier it is to pass thread around it. Cheap machines will often have smaller bobbins because a smaller bobbin means a machine can be built with lower tolerances. But small bobbins are annoying to use, so designers are always trying to make better machines with bigger bobbins.

The lockstitch, which all modern sewing machines use, was one of the critical patents necessary for making a sewing machine. It was invented by Elias Howe, along with The patent for a sewing machine needle with the hole in the point. Alan B Wilson (we love Allan B Wilson) came up with the full rotary hook that you see up there. He also had the patent for the four motion feed, which is still used on pretty much every sewing machine to this day. Isaac Singer had the patent for sewing machines with a horizontal sewing surface and a vertical needle. And these critical patents, that were made before a functional sewing machine was ever developed, are still used to this day in almost all sewing machines.

How a sewing machine works 

[the-book-queen]

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[atvrvxia]

&. @sugarkick​

         “D’YOU SUPPOSE i can sit here with you and just pretend like we’re interacting? just till my older brother leaves, please?”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Enamored [3] - Ballroom Whispers

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Dance partners must be chosen carefully.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, slow burn.

Word Count: 4k

Series Masterlist

Attending balls, especially considering your father’s status in the society, was expected and normal.

Even though your father had all but abandoned you years and years ago just because of his own disillusions about your mother’s loyalty to him, you still had to follow the rules now that you were to be a part of the said society.

Either way, you had attended countless balls when you were back home, and now that you were in London, you knew that you were supposed to attend the ones in here as well. Most of your gowns were ready, your hair accessories were ready, your new jewelry was ready—

You on the other hand were not ready at all.

Your brother insisted that everything would be fine, that it wasn’t different than all the balls you had attended back home but you knew better. Especially after reading what Lady Whistledown had written about you on her paper, you knew that you couldn’t afford to make even the slightest mistake. They would all be watching you tonight since it was your very first public appearance in London, and doing anything wrong was not an option.

Your mother had given you such a strict and detailed education throughout your whole life that it was supposed to be easy for you, yet there you were, biting your nails and pacing in the room. Lucie had tried everything from making you drink ginger tea to rubbing your wrists with lavender oil, yet nothing seemed to calm you down.

“My lady, perhaps you should send for the doctor—”

“No,” you cut her off. “I will do no such thing, it’s just…my nerves.”

Lucie pressed her lips together as you walked to the full length mirror to fix your gown that didn’t really need much of fixing. Even you had to admit, dressmakers in England knew what they were doing.

Back home, your mother had made sure to hire the best dressmakers to make your dresses and now the same dresses were tweaked a little to look not completely foreign in England, but still had some traces of the original. The ivory silk seemed to flow over your body, the train –that seemed to be shorter than French fashion and longer than British fashion- and the bodice adorned with gold colored threads that your mother had always said to look beautiful in candle light. The thin lace over the cleavage of the dress looked like a trick of the light as you turned a little in front of the mirror to check it from all sides, and you heaved a sigh, then found Lucie’s gaze in the mirror.

“Do you think it looks beautiful?”

“It looks absolutely breathtaking, my lady.”

“It should distract people for some time until the rumor train hits yet again, I suppose,” you mumbled, “Not that I think it will help for good.”

“First impressions are very important,” Lucie pointed out. “You know what your mother always used to say.”

You huffed out a breath and touched your hair which was carefully pulled into a simple up-do to expose your neck. The thin golden chain with the small diamond pendant looked almost invisible at first glance, something that your mother had taught you to adapt when it came to jewelry or details on your dresses.

“Make people look again,” she used to tell you. “Attracting attention without extravagance is an art.”

“Chérie?”

You turned your head as you heard the knock. “Come in Elias!”

The door opened and Elias peeked his head in, then raised his brows.

“You look absolutely beautiful, sister.”

“And you sound very surprised,” you joked, making him chuckle as he stepped into the room.

“Lucie, would you excuse us?”

Lucie dropped a curtsy and walked out of the room before closing the door behind her. You pursed your lips, watching Elias sit down on the bed and he patted the spot beside him, so you approached him to plop down on the bed.

“Please tell me I will not make a fool of myself.”

“You will not make a fool of yourself,” he said, reaching out to squeeze your hand in an assuring manner. “Trust me, you couldn’t even if you tried.”

“Do you think that scary lady will be there?”

“Lady Whistledown?” he asked. “No one knows who she is, but I’d say so. Why are you so interested in her?”

“Because,” you hesitated for a moment. “I’ve seen how rumors can change one’s life, for better or worse. Generally worse.”

“It’s not going to happen to you,” he said, shaking his head. “The worst case scenario, they will stare at you for a while and then everyone will start dancing and drinking and having pointless conversations. If anything, it will be a boring evening.”

You pouted your lips, folding your hands in your lap.

“But,” he said, sitting up straight. “I still wanted to talk to you before, just in case.”

“About what?”

“Well,” he trailed off. “This is the first ball you’re attending here and you may find things here a bit different than what you’re used to.”

“Elias, mother grew up here,” you reminded him. “I know what not to do.”

“Oh I’m talking about people, Chérie.” Elias corrected himself and waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I know mother gave you hell until you learned how to dance and how to talk and all that. And I know for a fact that you’re a much better dancer than I am.”

“A horse is a better dancer than you are.”

He made a face at you, making you let out a small chuckle.

“What is it then?” you asked and Elias heaved a sigh.

“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said. “Took after me, clearly.”

“Right.” You tried to control your expression. “Clearly.”

“So there’s a high chance that gentlemen of London will be interested in your hand in marriage, therefore will want to get to know you better.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“And knowing you,” Elias said with a small smile, making you tilt your head. “If God forbid you fall in love with one of them—“

“God forbid?” you repeated. “Elias don’t say that! Falling in love must be the most wonderful feeling in the world, it’s the greatest happiness—“

“Yes exactly because of this,” he motioned at you, “Please stay by my side. I really don’t want you to dance or socialize with the wrong man and get your heart broken. I understand that it’s important for you and father to get you accepted in the ton, so we need to be very careful with who you dance with tonight.”

“Something tells me you already figured it out.”

“I have,” he said. “Considering dancing is a public display of support, we should start with trusted people only.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I know no one here.”

“And I know everyone here,” Elias sang, making you giggle. “My friends are a good bet. Let us get through this ball, and then we can figure out the rest of them.”

“Your friends? I am to dance with your friends only?”

“Just for tonight.”

Your stomach did a pleasant flip and you wet your lips, trying to come across nonchalant.

“Like…like your friend Lord Bridgerton?”

“Well yes, Anthony is a Viscount so it would make— Chérie, no.” He got distracted in the middle of the sentence and shook his head. “Do not even consider that.”

“I said nothing.”

“Yeah no, you don’t have to say anything.”

“Elias!”

“Anthony is exactly the type of gentleman you are going to stay away from.”

You pulled your brows together. “I thought you said I would dance with him tonight.”

“You will.”

“So how exactly am I to stay away from him if I will dance with him?” you asked with a mischievous smile, “Or have you come up with a new type of dance?”

Elias let out a small whine. “Well—you don’t have to talk to him while you dance with him.”

“That would be incredibly rude!” you protested. “Didn’t you just say you trust him?”

“I’d trust him with my life,” he said. “We’ve been best friends since we were children.”

“Elias at this point I cannot even pretend I follow your logic, or lack thereof.”

“It is because he’s such a close friend of mine that I would never trust him with your heart,” he said. “I know him too well.”

You shrugged your shoulders, waiting for him to continue.

“Anthony is…” he trailed off. “He would only break your heart, Chérie. And it would devastate me to see you in such a hurt state. So can you please trust me on this?”

You bit inside your cheek, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at beat at the mention of his name. Lord Bridgerton was handsome, there was no denying that. Somehow the mere presence of him had managed to make your stomach feel like it was filled with butterflies the other day at the drawing room, and if your mother were here she would’ve scolded you but—

You were curious about this excitement pulsing through you.

“I promise to guard my heart well,” you managed to say after a beat. “Happy?”

“Delighted.” Elias deadpanned. “I swear I will not get a good night’s sleep until I make sure your heart is in good hands.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I wonder how many men warn their sisters about you as well.”

“That’s a discussion for another time, dear sister,” he said, wiggling his brows and he slapped his knees before he stood up.

“Come on now. Let’s get through this ball before either of us changes their mind.”

You took a deep breath and linked your arm through his, then walked out of the room with him.

                                                   *

Even with the overwhelming tenseness running through your veins, you had to admit that it was such a beautiful ball. If you weren’t so strung up and almost trembling at the idea of making any mistakes, you probably could’ve enjoyed it better but you had a feeling that the minute you slipped and did something you were not supposed to, you would be reading about it on Lady Whistledown’s papers the next day.

Elias’s trusted friends were polite to you, albeit a little boring. You had danced with three people since the ball had started, but there was no sign of Anth—

Lord Bridgerton. There was no sign of Lord Bridgerton.

Not that you were looking for him. You had just happened to notice his absence by chance that was all.

You made your way to the refreshments table to grab a glass while Elias was busy with dancing with a lady and you took a small sip, keeping your gaze on the crowd. You could feel the stolen glances along with the whispers you had been pretending not to hear, so you made sure to look overly interested in the dancing couples, swirling the drink in your glass.

“I like your dress.”

Your head whirled around and your eyes caught the owner of the soft voice. It was a beautiful girl who seemed to be around your age, with a sincere smile that revealed her shiny teeth. A mischievous light was gleaming in her eyes as she took a sip of her drink as well before fixing her ivory gloves.

“Thank you,” you managed to say as soon as you pulled yourself together. “I’m Y/N.”

“Cecily,” she introduced herself. “I will faint on the floor on purpose if someone else asks me to dance before I finish my drink.”

You repressed a small laugh. “I’m afraid that would attract more dance partners to you.”

She heaved a sigh and took another sip of her drink.

“I’ve heard people talk about you,” she said. “Welcome to London. Is it very different than France? I’ve always wanted to see there.”

“Um— it’s…” you stammered, “Will your mother not be angry at you for socializing with a walking scandal?”

“My mama is very busy with finding my sisters suitable future husbands right now,” she pointed out. “This is their third season, but my first. I’m not exactly the priority.”

Oh, a third season without a husband meant really bad news.

“Gives you more time to get refreshments, I assume?”

“It’s the small victories,” she joked back. “I’m sure war generals had fewer strategies for the battlefield than my mama does for the suitors.”

This time, you couldn’t contain your laughter but quickly covered your lips with your hand, stealing a look at her.

“All is fair in love and war,” you commented. “Or suitors and ballrooms in this case.”

Cecily shook her head. “Thanks to mama, I have a guide in mind for all the eligible bachelors in this ballroom.”

“You make the perfect drinking companion Cecily, because I have no idea about them,” you said and she grinned.

“Well, we cannot have that,” she lowered her voice “I’m at your service as long as you tell me about France.”

“That sounds like a reasonable deal my friend,” you giggled and Cecily turned to the dancefloor, narrowing her eyes.

“Who have you danced with so far?”

“Um—” you strained your mind before you looked down at your dance card. “Lord Thompson…”

“Goodness no,” Cecily said. “That man could bore a newborn baby to sleep. All he talks of is how good he is at fencing.”

“And here I thought it was just my lack of interest in fencing,” you mused. “That dance felt like it lasted hours.”

“Who else?”

“Lord Radway?”

“Baron Radway?” she asked. “I heard that he gambles and hunts way too much.”

“So that’s a no,” you murmured. “And Earl Heydon.”

“I’ve had the misfortune of meeting his mama,” she said. “I already feel pity for his future bride.”

You made a face and looked over at the crowd.

“What about him?” you nodded at a good looking man on the dancefloor. “He looks rather pleasant and polite.”

“Which one? In blue waistcoat?”

“No the gentleman to his left, dancing with the lady in light blue dress.”

“Oh that’s Lord Audley,” she said. “No. He is a frequent visitor of the tavern. Drinks too much, they say. I’ve also heard that sometimes when he…”

The rest of Cecily’s sentence was lost in the buzz as soon as your eyes wandered off to the entrance and fell upon the familiar face. Anthony had just walked in with a young lady in his arm who seemed to have similar features to his, which made you think it was his sister. The lady looked as if she would rather be anywhere but here, a frown etched on her face as she turned around to say something to the gentleman behind her, making him grin while whatever she said seemed to make Anthony shake his head slightly. Your heart beat got faster as you swallowed thickly, then forced yourself to drag your glances from him to Cecily who had already followed your gaze.

“And that’s Viscount Bridgerton,” she said. “With his sister Eloise. The gentlemen behind them are Benedict and Colin, their brothers.”

You took a big sip of your drink and fanned yourself with your dance card. “I—we’ve met before. Lord Bridgerton, I mean.”

“No to him also.”

That made your ears perk up. “Oh? Why?”

“He’s a rake.”

You pulled your brows together, trying to understand.

“A rake?” you repeated, searching through your mind. “What is a rake?”

Cecily stared at you for a moment and then took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I forgot you’re not from here,” she said. “A rake is… well, Anthony Bridgerton is the perfect example of it. He has no interest in commitment or love, and he has had many—“ she lowered her voice, “Conquests, so to speak.”

A fire swept over your face. “Oh.”

“And for some reason, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors of the season,” she murmured. “Mamas do not seem to understand that man shall never be completely committed to someone, and ladies seem to be convinced they can make him change his ways. But he’s a menace, I tell you.”

You licked your lips, “You sound like you don’t like him much.”

“I dislike men like him,” Cecily said. “He enjoys that attention, and God knows how many hearts he broke.”

You grabbed another glass, stealing a look at the candlelight right beside you that was giving off a warm glow just so that you could stop yourself from looking at the said menace.

“That’s…good to know,” you said as the music came to an end, letting the dancers catch their breath for a moment and find new partners. “So then how—who would actually make a good suitor then?”

Cecily made a face. “No one.”

You raised your brows. “You do not have anyone you’ve set your eyes on? No one at all?”

She shook her head. “No. I know almost everything about them, so it makes me very disinterested in them.”

A small grin pulled at your lips and you stole a look at the crowd.

“I could introduce you to my brother if you’d like,” you said, making her gasp. “What of his vices? Since you know everything about everyone?”

She hesitated for a moment. “I couldn’t possibly…”

“I will not tell him, I’m just curious.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“He’s very handsome,” she started, “And rich and a future duke therefore a lot of debutantes and their mothers are trying to get him, and I value my peace of mind way too much to get into that rivalry. Someone would definitely scratch my eyes out, not to mention he’s way above me in social standing, he would never even spare me a glance.”

“So you think he’s handsome?”

Cecily averted her gaze from yours for a moment. “Is that the only thing you’ve heard?”

“The rest sounded unimportant so I didn’t listen. I will introduce you to him—”

“What? No!”

You let out a laugh at the sight of complete terror on her face but before you could say anything, Cecily’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, the figure making her raise her brows.

“Lady Y/N.”

Oh great, now you were going to have a heart attack then and there by the refreshments table in the ballroom and read about it the next day on Whistledown’s papers.

You swallowed thickly before turning your head so that you could look up at the owner of the deep voice.

“Miss Cecily,” Anthony greeted Cecily too after a beat without taking his eyes off of you.

“Lord Bridgerton.”

A smile warmed up your face before you remembered to greet him as well.

“Good evening, Lord Bridgerton,” your voice was soft as if your heart wasn’t already beating in your throat.

“May I have this dance if your dance card is not full?”

Cecily bit inside her cheek and shot you an almost amused look while you shook your head fervently.

“No— I mean yes,” you corrected yourself. “I’d love to.”

You would also love to be able to make sure to get to the floor without fainting of the sudden, unreasonable excitement running through your veins but you had a feeling you wouldn’t be so lucky.

He offered his hand and you took it, for some reason hating and being thankful for the gloves at the same time. You could swear he’d be able to feel your heartbeat if he would touch your skin for even a moment, and you didn’t think you’d be able to handle it.

What on earth was going on with you?

You had attended many balls back at home and not even once had you been this nervous.

When the music started and he put his hand on your waist, you took a shaky breath that you hoped he didn’t notice and stole a look at him.

“I’m afraid I’m under strict instructions to be completely quiet during this dance,” you said with a smile and a mischievous glimmer appeared in his eyes.

“What a coincidence, so am I.”

“But seeing that it would be very rude,” you said, “I think we can reach an agreement, Lord Bridgerton.”

“I’m listening, Lady Y/N.”

A giggle escaped from your lips, “I was thinking we could keep the conversation light.”

“As expected.”

“Light conversation,” you mused as you both moved within the crowd. “Very well. What are your thoughts on the British involvement in Congress of Vienna? I hear they will change the Treaty of Chaumont.”

A ghost of a smile graced his lips.

“You talked of politics at balls back in France?” he asked back and you shrugged slightly.

“I can talk about Louis VIII’s new administration?” you offered, “I have many opinions about the charter.”

That seemed to draw out a chuckle from him, the sound so new and foreign to you that it made you smile brightly.

“No?” you taunted him. “Well then, I suppose you could enlighten me about why Elias has given both of us such strict instructions. Because I’ve been warned against you.”

“Warned against me?” he repeated, amusement laced in his tone. “What have you been told?”

“I haven’t been given any details, unfortunately,” you said. “But I’m curious about the reason nonetheless.”

“Elias can exaggerate.”

“Like the time he told me you and him broke every plate at the dining room trying to see who could climb higher on the cabinet?”

“We were ten years old,” Anthony pointed out with a grin. “And I’m still banned from the Duke’s dining room I’m afraid.”

You giggled as you moved with him, his grip on your waist getting tighter for only a moment, making you hold your breath.

“Your father can hold grudges for years.”

“The Duke can be strong-willed, as I’ve been told.”

He was way too observant to miss the way you had corrected your father into Duke, but he didn’t comment on it.

“And how do you find London?” he changed the subject much to your pleasure and you smiled.

“It’s rather pleasant, I’ve made a friend,” you said. “Other than that, I don’t think the ton likes me much.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Oh the usual,” you muttered. “Whispers and glares.”

“Give them time,” he said. “Half of them will not come across as terrible once you get to know them.”

“Only half?”

“Only half,” his tone was playful. “They’re more intimidated than you than you are of them though, I promise. Glare at them back.”

You giggled as the music slowly started to fade, the dance coming to an end much to your displeasure and you tilted your head.

“All this light conversation and I still haven’t figured out why I’ve been warned against you, Lord Bridgerton.”

An arrogant smile pulled at his lips as his gaze locked to yours, making you swallow.

“I would enlighten you about the reason, Lady Y/N,” he said as you both stopped but he didn’t pull his hand back. “But I think you already know it.”

You looked up at him, your stomach doing a pleasant flip as he leaned in ever so slightly.

“It must be the same reason why your breath keeps hitching whenever I pull you closer,” his low murmur caressed your ear, making you feel almost lightheaded before he pulled back to bow his head.

“Have a pleasant evening my lady,” he said as the couples around you started to scatter around. Your face was burning so bad that you didn’t even think of dropping a curtsy before you turned around, then rushed through the crowd to step outside, the chill air filling your lungs as soon you did. There were a couple of people in the gardens but you could barely pay any attention to them, still trying to catch your breath, your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“Oh God…” you whispered, leaning back to the wall to fix your gaze on the sky, your ears muffled with blood rushing in them. “I’m in trouble.”

Chapter 4

                                        *

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[lcveology]

        hadn’t the walk over cleared his head some, elias would have considered it a miracle that he was able to stumble his way back to his girlfriend’s apartment; maybe he stayed out a little later and drank a little more than he should have, but this was an issue to deal with the next morning, unlocking the door to her apartment with his brand new key and letting himself in. his most immediate course of action was to get a glass of water -- some sort of self preservation instinct to prevent him from having too debilitating of a hangover, he supposed, but as he walked into the kitchen and saw the girl bent over and looking for something in the fridge, his plans seemed to change course. “i thought you’d be asleep,” he said, approaching her from behind and unceremoniously pressing himself against her, intending on wrapping his arms around her but deciding the logistics were far too complicated for his impaired mind. instead, his hands settled on her hips, thumbs dipping into the waistband of her bottoms as he pulled the girl against himself. “are these new? you look good in them.” // @santcsangre

[gentlemancrow]

14: “I’m screwed” shippy JMart :) 💚

Ehehe this one got away from me a little bit! But ask for shippy Jmart get a gushy mooshy Crow! Please enjoy! ; w ;

“I’m screwed…”

Martin watched helplessly through the slats of the yellowed blinds on Jon’s office window as his entire life went up in flames. He dimly recalled some trite old saying about seeing one’s life flash before one’s eyes before the moment of unceremonious besmirching from the cruel mortal coil, but for him it was more of a hysterical repeated rewinding of every single bumbling misstep that had orchestrated his imminent demise.

From the moment he decided he had just enough time before work to pop into the Tesco for the usual bouquet of flowers for his visit to his mother later in the day, to the snap decision to get the one made of tulips, bright crimson, orange, and yellow like a flame, rather than the usual white lilies, all the way up to entering the institute, Elias stuffing a file for Jon in his already laden arms, and then the chaos that had erupted as he attempted to deliver it, he lived it all over again. First there was something about the kettle being on the fritz, and obviously since he used it the most frequently, clearly he knew how to repair errant electronic kitchen devices. He was halfway through chastising Tim for false equivalencies in his logic when Sasha had breezed past and asked for a report he’d supposed to be finished with the day prior, and somewhere in the snarking with Tim and the flailing over his dereliction of duty the flowers had been abandoned on Jon’s desk and the file tucked under his arm instead.

By the time Martin realized he was missing something bulky and crinkly and fragrant it was too late. Jon was already in his office, tatty messenger bag still looped around his chest, forgotten, staring at the fiery bouquet on his desk with the scientific method scrolling visibly through his pupils as he regarded it like a corpse on an autopsy table, hand in a fist with his thumb pressed to his lips. Martin had never wished harder for some sort of horrific creature of the darkness to strike the institute again and just devour him whole this time to put him out of his misery.

“You’re what, mate?” Tim’s adjacent query only intensified that desire.

“Tim! SHUSH!” he squeaked, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and hauling him out of the line of sight from the office window.

“Easy there, big guy!” he laughed, “What’s all the hullabaloo?”

“I’m SCREWED. Big time,” Martin moaned, burying his face, which had been bright scarlet since the moment his hubris had roosted, into his hands, “See those flowers in there? I bought those for my usual trip to see my mum this afternoon but somehow between you being an idiot and me also being an idiot and forgetting to finish that report I sort of… left them there… by accident…”

Jon, meanwhile, had finally set his bag down and had circled his desk like a vulture. He reached out with delicate fingers like forceps and pinched the very edge of the card to inspect it, which, unfortunately, only added to the mystery with its coquettish blankness, as Martin had yet to fill it in. Tim watched, nonplussed.

“So? What’s the big deal about that? Just go explain it to him and I’m sure he… Oh. OH,” he cackled as realization dawned on him, “Yeah, nope you’re screwed.”

“Thanks…”

“Ahh, don’t sweat it. The man’s so thick I’m sure he thinks it’s just a prank or some continued spooky attempt on his life or something. The absolute last thing he would think would be that you of all people would…” Tim stopped himself in the withering blue glare blazing at him from behind round spectacles, “Anyway, again, this is Jon we’re talking about. He’ll just treat it like some weird cosmic mystery until he burns himself out on it or the next one shows up.”

“Y-Yeah but-“

“Just go explain! Unless you want to watch him wriggle about it like a fish on a hook all day. Which I am diametrically unopposed to, by the way, sounds absolutely hilarious.”

Martin winced, hating the idea of being the missing chunk of code that caused Jon’s brain to glitch for the remainder of the day, and sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“No, no you’re right,” he sighed, “Just… no flowers at my funeral if he kills me, okay?”

“Kate Bush songs only, got it, yep.”

Martin rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response, and shuffled on mechanical feet to the closed door of Jon’s office. He rapped lightly a few times before pushing his way in, smiling sheepishly at the head archivist who had clearly just unceremoniously flung himself in front of the mysterious bouquet to hide it from view.

“Martin!” he barked, “What in the hell are you-“

“Uh, just needed to talk to you for a second.”

He closed the door behind him

“Oh, uh… about wh-“

“About those, actually,” Martin confessed through his teeth, pointing, mortified, at the coy spray of flaming tulips peeking out from behind Jon’s hip.

He whipped around to look at them, then back to his assistant, then back to the flowers again, the blush that only ever seemed to find the tips of his ears glowing like two carmine rosebuds there.

“…You?”

That unreadable earthy brown gaze, somewhere between wilting regency heroine and venomous snake ready to strike with fangs bared, harpooned Martin directly to the heart.

“No! God no! S-Sorry!” he yelped, flailing his hands defensively in the air, “I-I mean they are mine, yes, b-but I-! Th-They’re for my mum! I-I try to visit her in her care home if I can on Fridays, and I always bring her some flowers! I was supposed to be dropping off a file for you, but then Tim was hounding me about the broken kettle and Sasha needed that damned report and I was all mixed up and I… I forgot them here. On your desk. Your desk of all places. I still have the file and um… T-Trade you? Hah…”

Jon’s finely sculpted brow shifted from pinched, to bemused, to a strange, sorrowful relief as Martin finished lamely in falsetto and he chuckled under his breath.

“Ah… right. Right! I thought for a second someone might have um…” he snorted breathlessly, “Hah, I knew that was a preposterous notion.”

The metaphysical harpoon still in Martin’s chest shattered in icy shards of anguish as his heart collapsed under the weight of itself.

“Wh- Jon, is it really that preposterous a notion someone might want to bring you flowers?” he asked, crushed.

Jon flourished a flippant, elegant hand.

“Come on Martin, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve never gotten flowers once in my life. I’m not the kind of person people think to buy flowers for. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then let me be the first!” Martin insisted, his mouth and heart moving in tandem before his brain could stop them.

Jon’s brow creased again.

“What? Good lord no, I’m not going to take the flowers you bought for your mother. Who is also in a care home, mind.”

“I’d much rather give them to you.”

The skeptical expression marring Jon’s face did little to hide the blush flourishing at the tips of his ears again.

“Look. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Martin elaborated shyly, “Friends can send each other flowers. And honestly? My mum doesn’t even like them… no matter what kind I bring. They usually end up being for her nurse instead. So I… I think they’ll have a much better home with you.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Jon’s mouth, snipping an invisible thread that softened his entire face into something innocent and full of wonder.

“I see. If you’re sure, I suppose I could…”

“I’m very sure,” Martin replied without hesitation, “Just tell people an old friend sent them out of the blue, or you have a secret admirer or something!”

“Well I don’t know about all that, but-” Jon chuckled, smiling softly, “Thank you. Just the same.”

Martin looked up, just for a moment, and met Jon’s gaze, letting the piercing erudite wood of it lay bare his fluttering heart.

“You’re welcome…”

Jon shifted in the beat of ensuing silence, his eyes flicking away from sky blue radiance to shift his shoulders back into a professional square.

“You uh, said you had a file for me?”

“Oh! Yes! Right! I-I will go fetch that file for you indeed and uh-! Oh yeah! Make sure you snip off the ends of the stems a bit before you put them in water. Helps them last longer,” Martin offered, snapping out of his enchantment and already slinking backwards to the door, “Oh and also! When they start to go, I’ll show you how to press one in a book, so you can keep it, if you like!”

“I’d like that very much, actually.”

Martin smiled, nodded, and saluted awkwardly as he escaped Jon’s office and closed the door behind, leaving him in private to wait until he was sure no one would see. Once he was certain, he preciously gathered the tulips into his hands and brought them to his nose, breathing in the field bright scent of his very first bouquet from a secret admirer.

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

time travel tma fics be like:

it's killing your shitty capitalist eldritch boss hours babieeee

my children deserve rest and i am going to gift it to them

get in loser we're speedrunning 4 seasons of character development!!!!

the spiral is probably helping us but i still don't trust it

the web is probably helping us but i still don't trust it

time to Bully Elias

i may know the future but that doesn't mean i know wtf i'm doing

we're just gonna ignore poor pathetic old man leitner in the tunnels tbh

sasha Deserves Better

jon and martin allotted-mutual-pining hours commence immediately this time around so get ready

so how the fuck are we gonna hide from jonah douchard's stupid all seeing eye this time fellas

tim please calm down

daisy p l e a s e calm down

shut up i already know u and that u wanna kill me this isn't n e w get in line bitch

jon can have a little intimidating the shit out of elias. as a treat.

mr. peter lukas imma need you to turn around and immediately leave the way u came in no words no questions just leave :)

i have s o many emotions about these people i'm technically supposed to have met last week fu k c

pls don't touch that statement hardworking assistant of mine, i got it n o w o r r i es :)))))

no!!! that is not my martin/my jon!! i Can Not Fall In Love with him in this timeline, it would not be fair to him,,,, would it ? ? ?

time for crippling guilt and self doubt!!!!

moral and spatial-temporal dilemmas of a gay and anxious nature

jon's ceaseless urge to punch his past self

"jon looks like he's gonna melt into a sad gloopy puddle whenever he looks at me what tf is up him"

crippling guilt and self doubt!!! part 2!!! electric boogaloo!!!

S E C R E T S

so i died in another timeline that's fun huh

there are so many narrative threads to keep track of jon are u okay??? do u need a calendar for all these events and lives ur tryna save???

the Power of Friendship prevails u dumb idiot, god of course we're gonna help u-

it's Found Family time bitches!!!

the possibility of s o many things going so differently and terribly wrong this time around is like,,,, a s t r o n o m i c a l l y high

monster jon monster jon moNSTER JON MON S T E R J O-

the other avatars and fear entities either hate jon's newly powerful and unpredictable guts or wanna have fun helping to kill/destroy elias there's no in between

this shit's gonna get s a p p y bitches bUCKLE UP-

it's jon deserves a fucking hug hours babieee pLEASE

oh no, said jon, i fucked up

Author's Notes: "yES this is ridiculously self indulgent, nO i don't c a r e"

pls process ur emotions in a healthy manner this time around i'm b e g g i n g u mr. jon jarchivist

feel free to add more i live for this goddamn trope

[pooks]

have you ever heard the tale of one Jenny Blackwood?

Martin had a younger sister, she was just two year old when their father left them and Martin had practically raised her when they were neglected by their mother. Jenny was a beacon of light when life felt hard. She was his reason, his lighthouse.

Jenny was bright and kind. Soft yet energic. Originally just as chronically ill as their mother, but she was a better person. Jenny loved her brother, nothing ever changed that.

Although, she was enchanted by the supernatural. She was thrilled by the strange, the weird and the unknown that had no rational explanations. She was weird and she loved it.

She met the enigmatic Elias Bouchard when she was in university and there was a spark, a sense of yearning and the strange void in their hearts were filled.

Could anyone know that Jenny was actually a reincarnation of the first and only love of Jonah Magnus? His first Archivist, no one other than his fiancee Matilda, who had died a gruesome death at the hands of Maxwell Rayner, for her meddling and curiosity.

How could anyone guess that Jonah Magnus' first attempt on the Watcher's Crown was not only to rule over this wretched world and gain immortality, but it was also meant to bring back his lost Archivist, the only one who had a claim on his heart?

Jonah Magnus had waited and waited for 200 years for his true Archivist to return. And then he found her, when he was Elias Bouchard and she was back, in the flesh and blood with a brand new life and identity.

No one could ever know that he would make a drastic choice to keep her away from other avatars' attention, to keep his love alive and safe, and instead, chose another Archivist to use for his gains.

But once an Archivist...always an Archivist.

Jenny Blackwood's destiny was already sealed the moment she was born, her thread of fate had a set destination. It spread long and thin, as a spider's web.

In this life, she was not only the original Archivist of Jonah Magnus. She was the Watcher's Bride.

Despite her brother's efforts to keep his little sister safe.

Her story is unfolding, as the tapes flips to the B side. Listeners, learn the tale of a doomed girl, the rightful Archivist and how she earned the place of the most loyal, kindest and bravest friend Jonathan Sims ever had.

[radiosandrecordings]

Absolutely fascinated by whatever got Allan, because while I was listening I was trying to compare it to the fresh-in-my-mind warnings of Unnamed Marguerite Kenner Character about the files that cut etc etc, but then I realised it sounds far closer to whatever Albrecht had going on 

“You do not understand,” he said to me in German. “I do not read the books. They read me.” - MAG127 Remains to be Seen 

“It saw me,” Allan keeps saying, over and over again, “It saw me through the pages. And it’s coming.” He sees it, he says, in every mirror, every distant doorway, a silhouette on every skyline. Coming closer each and every time, finding its way towards him, step by step. “It has no eyes,” Allan sobs, “so it has to feel its way towards me. But it knows. It knows!” - MAG193 A Stern Look

Aaand then from there I realised that Elias specifically notes that the pages Allan were looking at were blank, and thus he has no idea what he’s on about with the books, wheras Albrecht tells a whole story to Fanshawe. And then I go to check again. And am confronted with 

“For as I filled those dead shelves with freshly bound volumes, I could not help but notice that every page was blank. I have since checked with [Paines], who I believe to be your preferred book-binders. And I know that the books poor Albrecht was returning to the grave were not the books that were taken. I hope they bring you much wisdom, Jonah, for the cost was dear enough.” - MAG127 Remains to be Seen 

Not exactly what I’m looking for to connect them via blankness, because this means that only the copies - normal books - were confirmed blank and Jonah took the originals that presumably Albrecht got all his knowledge from. It doesn’t confirm anything specific, but there’s a little leeway here for theory. Specifically A) Albrecht’s books were all blank in the first place, and that’s why he didn’t notice the change with the copies, and that’s what Allan found in the library. One of the books had escaped Jonah, or he had planted it there to stir chaos. Or B) While Jonah has the real books that Albrecht had seen, the fact of Fanshawe and Albrecht putting the blank books in the Von Closen crypt imbued them with some kind of power, making them into a different kind of malicious book in their own right, which were then found at a later date and taken to whatever university Elias and Allan were at. 

I hesitate to call them Leitners because while that’s what they likely technically are, I feel like that’s the equivalent of calling every brand of tissues a kleenex. But the possibility of them being actual Leitners did cross my mind, and while it’s technically possible considering Leitner’s library was destroyed in 1994 and Elias took over as institute head in 1996, it’s unlikely considering that’d be a pretty quick timeframe to get the book into the uni, have Allan find it and die, have Elias graduate after that, and have him get a job and be there long enough for Jonah to eyeswap him with minimal suspicion. 

So I’m not sure if I’m just drawing threads where there is none or if there is something genuinely there, but it’s a fun connection or parallel. 

[tweedfrog]

In a Rhaegar wins au where Dany is tptwp how do you think that affects his relationship with her and with his children? Especially if none of his kids are dragon riders?

so this ask has been sitting in my ask box for a while and I’ve been meaning to get around to it but I just saw a post that really irritated me so I’m kind of going to use your ask as a segue to talk about why I think Rhaenys not being a dragon-rider in an AU is a terrible idea unless handled very, very well.

I’ve been active in this fandom for an average/sort of long time (about 5-6 years), and let me say that it is ONLY ever Rhaenys and Aegon (whether you believe he’s real or fake) who are subjected to this ridiculous level of nit-picking over their ‘powers’. The post I saw was contending that Rhaenys could have her Roynish water magic from her ancestors but that she could never wake dragons (or freed slaves but that’s a whole other can of worms) like Daenerys did but that its fine because she has her special Rhoynish magic to fall back on.

Here’s the thing though. At its core that argument is deeply unsound because there’s already a character who will likely have access to powers from ‘both sides of his family’ - Jon Stark! I get that fandom head-canons aren’t fact yet so we don’t know if Jon will be a dragon rider or not but let me just say I have never ONCE seen anyone try to argue in meta that Jon can’t ride a dragon because he’s already a warg and therefore he should simply be content with his Stark powers.

Furthermore, any argument that Daenerys is somehow more special or integral to waking the dragons than Rhaenys is always going to descend into Valyrian eugenics tm because that’s what the whole idea is predicated on.

You can’t make the point that Rhaenys doesn’t have the personality or drive to make similar decisions to Daenerys like you could in a Jon vs Daenerys argument because Rhaenys was murdered far too young for us to make accurate predictions about her nature.

 You can’t make the argument that Rhaenys would never be treated terribly like Daenerys and would be in a better position because of her Dornish connection because:

a) she was treated worse than Daenerys in text. She literally was murdered, and her family couldn’t do anything to seek justice for her. Idk why people think the Martell’s are going to be all-powerful in a situation where the war went down in the exact same way except Rhaenys lived. In fact you could argue that they would be in a far worse position because they’d be more closely monitored and would have to be very very quiet if they were aiding Rhaenys

b) Whether you believe the fake Aegon theory or not the fact is that Illyrio, Varys and Jon Con managed to raise a boy they claimed was Aegon Targaryen for roughly 15 years without the Martells finding out. In a Rhaenys lives AU she could very well end up with Jon Con and Aegon and given the status of women in the story her hand very well could be given away in marriage (Think Calla Blackfyre being married to her half-uncle Aegor Rivers) and it could progress in a similar fashion to what happened to Daenerys and Drogo. Especially since Daenerys didn’t randomly get those eggs – they were given to her by Illyrio.

c) Any statements about how Rhaenys is “too Dornish” to ever wake a dragon are ridiculous given that due to the repeated sibling incest Daenerys herself is ¼ Dornish. According to half these theories Daenerys herself should be too *gasp* non-Valyrian and therefore not special enough herself to wake the dragons.

Everything about a Rhaenys lives AU is purely speculation and I very much hate it when in a series with dragons and magic people draw the line at a brown girl being special in the way their super cool Targaryen faves like Jon and Daenerys are.

And the thing is I hate making arguments like this because they make me sound like a Daenerys anti when I’m not? The core issue in Daenerys’ story is that she’s a strong female character who does make morally questionable choices and therefore is hated by a large chunk of the fandom who are just outright sexist. But also, that Daenerys is a white character in the midst of, let us be frank, mostly flat characters who GRRM didn’t develop further because he decided to lean on racist tropes and this understandably pisses people off. Oh and let’s not forget the ‘Targaryen madness” idea used to argue that Daenerys is doomed to be mentally ill and evil like her father. Daenerys story and her fandom presence is a hodgepodge of sexism, racism, and the stigmatisation of mental illness. Its seriously hard to engage in these debates because it’s hard to untangle the threads. 

Anyways back to your original question. I think Rhaegar would be absolutely crushed that Daenerys was TPWWP instead of Aegon who he believed was the one all along. I don’t characterize Rhaegar as actively malicious (more selfish, stupid, and with a messiah complex) so I think the idea that he plunged Westeros into a continent wide-war for nothing would deeply weigh on him. Throw in the personal element of how much hes destroyed his relationships with his children, and with Elia and Lyanna and I don’t see it getting better.In fact I see Rhaegar as harbouring an enormous amount of guilt about his treatment of all three of his children and it never really resolving itself because i head-canon Rhaegar as not the most emotionally intelligent.

Honestly even in a situation where 1 or more of his children end up as dragon riders I don’t see Rhaegar being too happy because he would have still had the wrong idea all along and made terrible decisions based on those wrong ideas.