#I did have flawless logic though

[detentiontrack]

One time when I was 14 I was failing my freshman math class, but I had a 504 in place that said I was allowed to leave to go to the bathroom at any time during classes (something teachers legally have to follow) so I wore a skirt to a big math test (I believe it was a midterm?) and when the test started I secretly wrote down the test questions on my left upper thigh. Then I asked my teacher if I could go to the bathroom and since he legally had to follow my 504, he let me go to the bathroom. In the bathroom I googled all the questions written down on my thigh AND the steps to get those answers (so I could show my work) and I wrote those down on my right upper thigh and went back to class. In class, I slightly lifted up my skirt, wrote down the test answers and the work, and then put my skirt back down. The teacher was suspicious obviously, but what was he going to do? Ask a 14 year old girl to lift up her skirt in the middle of class? Or worse, ask a 14 year old girl to lift up her skirt after class alone in the classroom with only the middle aged male teacher around? All of the security guards that supported the teachers were also men. I had him cornered and powerless and he KNEW it. I got an A on the test. He never called me out. I passed the class.

[actualalligator]

40. "Nobody asked me, but I will answer."

Sterek!

Stiles stood up. "Nobody asked me, but I will answer. Derek."

Across the room, Derek choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken.

Malia frowned. "What was the question again?"

"If you had to pair up with someone in this room to save the human race, who would it be," Scott replied. He tossed the card into the lid of the box they'd been using for discard. "Kira was supposed to answer."

"Isaac," Malia said. "He's the tallest. A good trait for the continuation of the species. Wait. Derek isn't even a correct answer."

"I'm not looking to pass on my genetics," Stiles replied. He sat back down. "But I deserve a fuck buddy for the end of the world."

"I need you all the get the fuck out now," Derek said as he got to his feet. Stiles watched as he disappeared into the kitchen.

"Isaac is a great answer with pretty flawless logic, " Kira said, standing. She laughed and pressed her hand against Scott's chest. "It's you. Of course it's you, Scott. You don't have to go all kicked puppy on me."

"I'm not going kicked puppy," Scott huffed, trying to push the cards back into a stack. But from where Stiles was sitting, he definitely had the kicked puppy look all over his face.

Stiles watched the doorway to the kitchen, waiting to see if Derek would come back out. He could see his shadow moving around the room, but the man didn't reappear.

"I'll clean up. You guys go," he said after a minute.

"Are you sure?" Kira asked, surveying the room. It was a bit of a mess. They'd been in the loft since late morning, and there were empty cans, pizza boxes, and chip bags scattered around the room.

"Yeah," Stiles replied. "Pack bonding today was my idea anyway." He waved a hand. No big deal.

Scott and Kira left first, calling out their goodbye. Isaac tried to gather all the trash together, probably to make it easier for Stiles, but was eventually ushered out by Malia.

Stiles stayed seated smack dab in the middle of the comfy sectional he'd bullied Derek into buy after he'd finally finished making the loft look like a place people actually lived.

He figured he could wait Derek out. And he did for almost five minutes before he was pretty sure he was going to die of old age. "You planning to spend the rest of your evening hiding in the kitchen?"

"Go home, Stiles," Derek growled.

Stiles considered it for a good minute or so. Maybe this was a bad idea. He hadn't meant to say it, but after another day spent sneakily glancing at Derek any chance he got, his mouth has betrayed him and spoken before his brain could realize it was a bad idea.

Maybe he should go home. Maybe he should drop it. He didn't want to. After all these years, he was pretty sure his feelings weren't completely unreciprocated. And there were only a few weeks left before he was expected to go back to UC Davis. He'd be a junior.

He stood and walked to the kitchen. He didn't step over the threshold, though. He leaned against the doorway instead, watching Derek's back as he hunched over the counter, no doubt glaring into his coffee cup.

"I don't want to wait until the world is ending," Stiles said.

Derek's body tensed. "Stiles."

"I don't want to wait until the world is ending. I don't want a fuck buddy either. Not with you. With you, I want everything," Stiles continued.

Derek's spine straightened. He tilted his head back, glaring at the ceiling.

"I want to kiss you. I want to hold your hand. I want to kick all the blankets off in the middle of the winter because I love a goddamn space heater. I want to be your companion and spend the rest of my life making you do that thing where you blow air out of your nose and grumble my name because I've put three more things into the grocery cart that I know weren't on the list." Stiles could feel his heart hammering against his chest. "But if you don't want that, it's okay. I get it. I won't bring it up again. I just... you're not just a fuck buddy for the end of the world. You're the person I want by my side every day until that comes."

Silence. Derek didn't move.

Stiles figured that was answer enough, so he turned to leave. He would come back and clean up in the morning, but in that moment, he felt gutted. It would be okay, though. He knew it was a possibility.

He didn't make it two steps before an arm wrapped tight around his waist, pulling him back into the warm, solid mass that was Derek Hale.

"Don't go," Derek said.

Stiles twisted in his hold. He cupped Derek's face between his hands. "I don't want to go anywhere you aren't. Not ever again."

🩵🩵🩵

[its-avalon-08]

heyy can we please have a fic where the reader is feeling insecure about maybe her height or body, thinking she’s not enough for him (could be any driver but maybe lando or logan, please?) he realizes something is off and reassures and comforts her? sorry if u already wrote something like that, i found ur acc recently x

you are everything (ls2)

✦ pairing - logan sargeant x female!reader

✦ genre - self doubt, comparison, tears, fluff, logan being cute

Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Logan into the paddock, her heart pounding in her chest. The sun was shining, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement, but all she could feel was a growing sense of dread. As they made their way through the crowd, she saw the other WAGs gathered near the team garages, laughing and chatting effortlessly.

Her eyes darted from one woman to the next. There was Carmen, George Russell's girlfriend, chic and graceful with legs that seemed to go on forever. Y/N's own height, which she had always considered average, suddenly felt inadequate. She straightened her back, trying to stand taller, but the feeling of being smaller, less significant, nagged at her.

Then she saw Kelly Piquet, Max's girlfriend, with her perfect smile and flawless skin. Y/N's mind spiraled, thinking about every blemish and imperfection on her own face. She unconsciously raised a hand to her cheek, feeling the rough texture of a recent breakout.

As she looked at Alexandra Saint, Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, with her stunning physique and effortless style, Y/N couldn't help but compare her own body. She was thin, but now she felt scrawny rather than elegant. Her clothes, which she had chosen carefully this morning, now seemed plain and unremarkable compared to the chic outfits around her.

Logan squeezed her hand, pulling her back to the present. He smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling with affection. "You okay?" he asked, his voice warm and reassuring.

Y/N forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, her stomach churning with insecurity.

As they walked closer to the group, she could hear snippets of their conversation, the easy way they interacted, as if they belonged in this world of glitz and glamour. Y/N felt like an outsider, an imposter in a world she didn’t quite fit into. She tugged at her top, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her outfit. She wondered if the other WAGs were judging her, comparing her to the standards they all seemed to effortlessly meet.

Why did she have to look so plain? Why couldn't she be as glamorous and perfect as them? Her thoughts were relentless, a storm of self-doubt that she couldn't escape. She felt like everyone was staring, scrutinizing her every move, even though she knew logically they were probably just focused on their own lives.

Logan stopped to talk to a few people, and Y/N stood by his side, trying to look composed. She felt Logan's hand on the small of her back, a comforting gesture, but it did little to soothe her turmoil. She glanced at herself in a nearby reflective surface, critically assessing her face, her nose, her figure.

The voice in her head was relentless. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck why did I choose this outfit? Your nose is too big. Your skin isn’t clear. Your body isn’t toned enough. You don’t belong here.

She wished she could disappear, blend into the background, but with Logan being who he was, that was impossible. The pressure of being in the spotlight, of feeling like she had to measure up to these other women, was overwhelming.

Y/N’s heart sank. How could she ever be enough for Logan when she felt so insignificant compared to the women around her? She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the insecurity gnawed at her, a constant reminder that she felt out of place.

I just want to be enough, she thought desperately, her eyes flicking to Logan. He looked so at ease, so confident, and she wished she could share in that feeling, even if just for a moment.

a few days later

Logan leaned against the counter of his kitchen, sipping his coffee and glancing at the clock. Y/N was supposed to be back from her morning run by now. He frowned, worry creasing his forehead. She had seemed off lately, quieter than usual, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was bothering her.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Y/N stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the workout. Logan's heart did a little flip, as it always did when he saw her, but today it was accompanied by a twinge of concern.

"Hey, babe," he greeted, setting his mug down and walking over to her. "How was your run?"

Y/N managed a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It was fine."

Logan took her hand, leading her to the couch. "Sit with me for a bit?"

She nodded, sitting down and folding her legs underneath her. Logan could see the tension in her posture, the way she seemed to be trying to make herself smaller.

"Y/N, talk to me," he said gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You've been quiet lately. Is something wrong?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "It's nothing, Lo. Really."

He shook his head, his expression soft but firm. "It's not nothing if it's bothering you. Please, tell me what's going on."

Y/N sighed, looking down at her hands. "I just… I've been feeling really insecure lately. Being in the spotlight, with everyone looking at us, at me… it's overwhelming. I keep thinking I'm not good enough for you."

Logan's heart ached at her words. He cupped her face in his hands, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Baby, you're more than enough for me. You're everything. Why would you ever think you're not good enough?"

She shrugged, tears brimming in her eyes. "I see the way people look at us, at me. I'm not a celebrity, Lo. I'm just… me. And sometimes, I feel like I don't measure up to the glamorous world you're part of."

Logan shook his head, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears while his own turned glossy at hearing the love of his life think she wasn't good enough. "You are perfect just the way you are. I don't care about the glitz and glamour. I care about you. You're stunning, inside and out, and I love you for who you are, not for what the world thinks you should be."

Y/N sniffled, leaning into his touch. "But what if I can't handle the pressure? What if I'm not strong enough? What if I crack?"

Logan took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/N, love of my whole fucking life, let me tell you something. You're one of the strongest people I know. Just because you feel overwhelmed sometimes doesn't mean you're weak. It's okay to have moments of doubt, to feel scared. But you don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you. Always."

He continued, his voice filled with love and determination. "Every day, I see how amazing you are. Your kindness, your strength, your beauty—it all shines so brightly to me. The way you care for others, the way you light up a room just by being in it—those are the things that matter. Not what the media says, not what anyone else thinks."

Logan's words flowed from his heart, each one meant to reassure her. "You know, there are days when I feel like I can't live up to the expectations of being a driver. But then I think of you, and I remember why I do what I do. Because you believe in me, and that gives me the strength to keep going. I need you, Y/N. I need your love, your support. And I'm here to give you mine."

He paused, taking her hands in his. "As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face and I know we can face anything. You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to lean on me, to let me be your strength when you need it. We're a team, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

Y/N took a deep breath, Logan's words slowly sinking in and easing the knots of insecurity in her heart. "Thank you, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, beautiful."

Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to Logan's ears. "I guess I can live with that."

Logan wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "Good. Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Y/N. And I won't let anything make you feel otherwise."

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's embrace, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her. She wasn't alone in this. With Logan by her side, she knew she could face anything, and together, they would shine brighter than any spotlight ever could.

[theres-no-escaping-us-pal]

NEWSIES AND WHAT AFTER SCHOOL CLUBS THEY’RE IN + WHAT SPORTS THEY DO

JACK KELLY

he definitely does sets for the school productions

he also does lights

he did track in elementary-middle school school but quit freshman year to focus more on art

but he runs every morning

also he def started an art history club with davey and kathrine

DAVEY/DAVID JACOBS

he plays piano is jazz band

and he’s in debate

he plays tennis

he wins state championships for tennis

and he totally joined theatre tech cause all his friends were doing theatre in some capacity

helps kathrine with editing the school paper when she gets stressed

he’s in honors math and science

maybe english too

CRUTCHIE MORRIS

band

he’s a band kid

idk what instrument

don’t ask me

i’m not a band kid

but he is

and tenor in choir

he plays in the pit band for the school productions

helps jack with sets sometimes

honors english

b average

KATHRINE PLUMBER/PULITZER

she’s a total academic weapon

class president 5th grade-senior year

she’s in debate

chief editor of the school paper

runs the year book

stage manager

on the varsity volleyball team

was on jv her freshman year

when people ask her how she gets straight a’s she’s like “idk i’m just smart”

a+ average

RACETRACK HIGGINS

he’s on the competitive dance team

also ensamble or a minor role in every school production

he’s been the lead once

he didn’t like it

in honors math

he also does track (hehe race track)

he gets a’s in math and b’s and a-‘s in everything else

most flexible on the comp team

best turner on the comp team

was in debate for two years but quit because he started having stress related panic attacks and stress vomiting before debates

b+ average

ALBERT DASILVA

competitive dance too

he used to play soccer in middle school and part of freshman year

he’s in theatre normally ensemble but likes to be speaking roles

c+ average

pours his time into dance

like it’s his favorite thing

terrible at chaine and pique turns

he’s great at pirrouettes and a la seconds though

SPECS IDK HIS LAST NAME

competitive dance guy #3

he’s on debate too

2nd most flexible on the comp team

worst turner

amazing leaps

b average student

forgets his contacts for dance frequently so he just dances with no glasses on

in jack’s art history club

FINCH CORTEZ

also on competitive dance

least flexible

average turns

terrible leaps

good at tricks

he’s trick man

really likes doing theatre

school photographer

b- average

SPOT CONLON

def on the gymnastics team

don’t ask me why and don’t argue with my flawless logic

he keeps his grades just high enough to still be on the team

also on the wrestling team

people are always asking why he does those two cause there like polar opposites

he’s just like 🤷‍♀️

b average

definitely runs some kind of social justice or lgbtq+ club

(also applies to uksies spot)

MORRIS DELANCEY (specifically the mike faist version)

soccer and dance

specifically tap

he likes tap

and he’s been doing soccer since he was in middle school

he’s on debate team

he’s not very good but he makes it through

a- average

OSCAR DELANCEY

football

don’t ask me why i don’t plan to explain

c+ average

i have nothing else to say

SARAH JACOBS

varsity soccer

and debate team

and honors english, history, and science

and choir

she’s a mezzo

don’t tell me i’m wrong

i’m not

she’s a student tutor

like when a student needs tutoring she’s the persian they go to

for english, science, or history

a average

kinda academic rivals-lovers with kath

(sorry if these are shitty)

[wpdarlingpan]

Ken really does give off Worshipper!Yandere vibes. He’s the type that would think you are literally flawless, the most wonderful and beautiful thing to ever exist and all he wants is for you to look at him

Ken x Fem.Reader

I wanted to expand on Ken so here is a short o little blurb

Warning: spoilers, fast-paced

Ken used to only have a good day of sterotypical Barbie smiled at him or even acknowledged him. That was until almost turning Barbieland into Kendom and taking over her Dreamhouse.

She of course told him to go find himself, make something of him that wasn’t associated with a girlfriend.

He really did try. For a whole 2 days.

That was until he saw Y/N Barbie.

She had been walking past him down the street when he saw her. It was as if a ethereal beauty dropped down from the sky. Well, some Barbie’s did drop from the sky, After all who needs stairs in Barbieland.

Y/N Barbie had a slight distase for the blonde Ken. After all he did brainwash all of her friends into something demeaning. But a part of her realizes he didn’t want to hurt them, he just want to be recognized. He was hurt and when someone’s hurt their actions sometimes aren’t led by logic.

“Hi Ken”

Ken stared at Y/N for a moment, frozen. He snapped out of it and quickly turned on his ‘charm’.

“H-Hi Y/N!” He smiled brightly at her as the girl in question gave him a polite smile and was about to continue on her way before he lightly grabbed her wrist.

“What are you up to today?”

“I was just going to go shopping. I want some new clothes for the party tonight.”

Ken immediately saw the opportunity.

“Can I keep you company?”

Y/N Barbie was hesitant. She heard the whole ‘you aren’t your girlfriend speech’ and she didn’t thing it was possible for someone to move on within two days. But a part of her was battling her, begging her to say yes. After all, Y/N never had a Ken.

“Um… Sure Ken!”

And that was the day everything changed between them two.

Ken followed her around the store. If she even admired it long enough he would grab it and hold it for her. By the end of the trip he had quite a few clothes in his arms but he wasn’t even tired. Only asking if you wanted anything else.

Then you two went out for food.

He took you to the fanciest restaurant in Barbieland. One that the Barbies and Kens would go to on dates which was quite obvious to Y/N but she couldn’t bring herself to mention it.

Then the two of you thought it would be a wonderful idea to go run along the beach. Of course Ken was all for it. He was of course a professional Beacher. The other Barbies, Kens, and even Allen so you guys together and were curious. All with the same thought

“Well that’s new.”

They didn’t mind all too much. Although Allen was slightly concerned. You are the closest person to him and he was worried Ken wouldn’t treat you the best. Of course they are friends, after all Allen is ‘Kens buddy and all his clothes fit him’ but it was a natural platonic instinct to be cautious

Next you shared a ice cream cone and even played a game of Volleyball. It was the perfect day, which was expected in Barbieland. Even when the world had changes it still found a way to be perfect for its inhabitants.

As the shining sun went down Ken finally drove you back to your own dreamhouse for you to get ready.

He had opened your door for you, grabbing your hand to lead you out, and walked you to the door. But he didn’t want to push it for once so he was about to leave. He couldn’t risk losing you like Stereotypical Barbie. Even though he was a lot more nervous for you than he ever was with her.

This time, Ken wrist was the one whose was grabbed.

“Would you like to come in?”

Ken could only stare in shock. Barbie never let him in. Y/N did.

“Yes.”

That was the single word that solidified Kens love, forever. Y/N was his and luckily, they don’t die. So it truly is forever.

[claraswritings]

Luca and R go back to ever for the funeral and she’s pregnant and they’re married, maybe everyone knew he had a thing for her back then?

Awww, I love soft/fluffy Luca. I love that he’s a tall, blonde, tattooed, mentally stable man who can cook so in my head I’ve just decided ‘aha he is my perfect man. Gimme’

ALSO SOMEONE GIVE HIM A LAST NAME 😭 And make it cute. I’m terrible with making up names.

You placed one hand over your stomach some what self consciously, wondering if the dress was flattering against your bump.

“Do I look pregnant or do I just look like I’ve ate a whole cake?” You asked Luca quietly, you were half joking but still getting used to it. Your baby bump was small but still noticeable against the floaty material of your black dress. He loved seeing you pregnant, he thought you were always beautiful but knowing you had his baby in you just exemplified that tenfold.

“I think people might guess there’s my little baby in there but…” he paused, Luca linked your hand with his and lifted it to kiss. “But….you are married to a pastry chef darling, so I’d be offended if you weren’t eating cakes. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room either way, my love”

You smiled and stood on tiptoes to get closer and Luca leant down and kissed you softly, hands instantly balancing you around your waist to support you.

“I’m married to the best pastry chef.” You smiled, muttering a compliment against his lips.

“The best, eh?” Luca asked “that’s high praise”

“The best.” You reiterated with a nod.

“How’d you come to that conclusion, love?” He rose an eyebrow, waiting for your response, teasing but enjoying how much you liked his baking.

“Well…” you started “I have a theory…”

Luca bent down to kiss you again, moving a hand around to hold your small bump. “Go on?”

“You’re the pastry chef at the best restaurant…in the capital of the country known for pastries. Therefore you’re the best.”

He laughed “Can’t argue with that flawless logic.”

“You can’t argue with your pregnant wife anyway. Its against…the law in every country” you tease “you knocked me up…you have to agree with me”

There was a moment of silence before.

“I love you so much.” Luca said softly and pulled you in closer to him for another gentle kiss.

You carried on, you on tiptoes pressing soft kisses to his lips in the quiet hallway of a restaurant. Something about it felt a little teenage, stealing kisses at a ‘funeral’, even though you were both well past your teens.

“I love you too.” You whispered against his lips.

You carried on like this, a few gentle kisses before a cough sounded and you separated again like teenagers rather than a grown married couple.

“Luca?” followed by your name.

Carmy hadn’t changed. He still had the same wide blue eyes and curly hair.

“You…you two got together then huh?” He said looking between the two of you,

He’d always been kind of quietly intense. You’d put it down to just single track focus with perfecting whatever dish being his only goal. He was, of course, the best at what he did. Today he looked like his mind was elsewhere.

“And you’re…you’re pregnant? You’re having a baby?”

Nodding you smiled.

“Wow…um, congratulations” he offered Luca and handshake which Luca, being ever friendly turned into a hug before he did the same with you.

“I did sometimes wonder why you weren’t together earlier yknow,” Carmy said “Luca always…I thought you were together already from way he talked about you…”

“We got there eventually… took the long way around” you joked, a reference to how you and Luca had been close friends for well over a decade before you’d both confessed your feelings as more than friendship.

“How’s the restaurant?” You asked.

Carmy’s pastry chef Marcus had visited Copenhagen last year. He and Luca had stayed in touch but you were interested to hear from Carmy himself.

“It’s…uh…it’s going.” He nodded, his mind looking elsewhere “you two should come in. On the house of course”

Luca grinned “We’d love to, mate. Would be great to see how Marcus is getting on too. I have this brilliant new technique for glazed creme he’d love.”

That was something you loved so much about Luca. He was so patient, so kind, so willing to share ideas. The fact he was excited about getting to talk techniques with a friend was so…sweet to you. Your lovely pastry nerd. You smiled up at him and then let the two of them catch up for a few minutes, wandering off to board full of photos to look. It wouldn’t be long before you felt Luca’s arm around you.

“I always thought he fancied you.” Luca commented, he leant down for a kiss, having said he’d see his friend inside.

“Carmen?” You laughed “I don’t think he did.”

“Oh he did. Remember when he came to visit us? In Copenhagen? Before we were together?” Luca held you close to him as you nodded. “I kept thinking he’d steal you away…”

Luca’s tone was light but you could tell there was a hint of insecurity there. You’d been there when they’d first worked together and Luca had found himself second best in a lot of things. It had been tough on him, lots of ranting and late nights and obsessing until he’d opted to learn from Carmy rather than force a competition.

Eventually Luca got better and better and they found different culinary paths which eased a lot of the tension however of it still lingered a little when it came to you.

“No one ever could.” You said to him. “I was yours even before I was yours”

“I thought he was trying with his lamb, juniper and sea herbs dish” Luca whispered to you half jokingly, reassured by your emphatic words.

You laughed thinking back to one evening when Carmy had cooked for you all and then looked up to Luca, staring up at him “Yeah, It was delicious…but you know I’m a dessert girl.”

“I know you are.” Luca grinned and leant down to kiss you once again. “Because you’re my girl”

After a few seconds it clicked.

“Wait…Is that why you bought me the L?” You rose an eyebrow, looking down at the little silver L necklace that Luca had bought you a few weeks ago. “The wedding rings and the matching initial tattoos not enough? The baby bump?” She joked.

Luca could feel himself going a bit pink but kissed you anyway “maybe…” he hummed “but you like the L”

“I love the L” you replied

“And I love you” Luca grinned and your hands couldn’t help find the way to hook the little L out of the neckline of your shirt.

****

“And you’re head pastry chef at Noma, Luca? That passionfruit and kiwi dessert there was the best I’ve ever had!” One chef complimented Luca and you felt the pride swell as he thanked the man

“Thank you, it was a real labour of love, see the inspiration behind the passionfruit and kiwi is my wife.” He squeezed your thigh “she had this incredible passionfruit mousse in Aalborg when we went to celebrate the baby and she loves kiwi so I thought I’d make this curd that’s…”

God he was cute when he went on.

“Luca! Did I just overhear you refer to this lovely lady as your wife?” Chef Terry, or rather Andrea, asked “And you’re pregnant?”

Luca met his former mentors eyes and nodded equally as enthusiastic about you and the baby as he had been about breaking down his dessert. “Yes Chef Te- Andrea, we got married six months ago and baby is three months.”

“How exciting! Do you know the sex?”

“Not yet, Luca is getting one of his chefs to bake us a cake and we’ll cut it on the boat just the two of us” you explained. “We’re so excited”

“Well that sounds lovely” Andrea smiled “Have you got any inklings?”

You put a hand over your small bump “I want a boy with Luca’s eyes…and my football team” you joked.

“Ah…” Luca went to protest only for you to gently place a hand over his thigh. It was a playful argument you’d had about four times already.

“Luca, babe… when you birth the baby, then you can pick their team.” You teased back in the way you always had.

He cocked his head and gives you a wry grin, conceding you’d made a good point “Or we can have a second?” Luca lifted his hand from your thigh and lifted it to cup your jaw, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“Maybe…” you teased “Let’s let baby come out first before we start planning the second.”

“Love, I’m already planning the third” Luca pecked your lips once more before dropping his hand to hold yours over the table.

He wanted three. He’s always wanted three. You’d be happy with two but feel like if they have his beautiful eyes and soft blonde curls, you won’t be able to say no to three. Secretly you hoped they did.

“You two are adorable. I always knew he liked you as more than a friend” Another woman, older this time says.

“When did it click?” Andrea asked interested “Was it when he made that whole collection of nostalgia desserts for you? Those really were special Luca, I think that’s when we all realised how truly creative you were at pastry. That was one of the most cohesive projects one of my chefs has ever done”

Luca smiled, thanking his former mentor again.

“Remember when he kept his hair longer for well over a year because she called that little black hairband cute?” Another chef commented. “Or when he made the discontinued chocolate bar as a fancy dessert for her? Remember how late he stayed? Folding wafer?”

Luca was going redder and you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. Deciding to spare his blushes, you spoke up.

“Hey if anyone should be embarrassed it’s me” you quickly said “I had this gorgeous man completely in love with me and I didn’t even realise! I was just like that’s Luca, he’s just so lovely.”

Luca gave your hand another squeeze as a silent thank you.

“You were worth the wait” he looked at you causing someone to ‘aww’.

“So were you”

“Maybe you’re both idiots” someone else chimed in breaking the tension and causing a laugh.

“And clearly the two of you caught up quick. Married and baby on the way after what? Eighteen months?” The older woman asked again.

“Sixteen” you said quickly. “But he’s been my best friend for years before that so…”

“Best friend is light. She always been my greatest inspiration and the love of my life” Luca lifted your hand and kissed it.

Luca was the love of your life. And you’d never been happier.

[jae-bummer]

For You, the World

Request: "You and your bias run into your ex." This with Bang Chan please? 🥺🥺

Prompts:

15) You and your bias run into your ex.

Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

.

"Baby," Chan hummed, resting his palm on your hip. "Quit fidgeting."

"I can't help it," you grumbled. "I don't want to be here."

"That's not what you said when you bought the tickets," he smiled, pressing his forehead lightly against your temple.

You took a deep breath and allowed his presence to calm you. "I know. When I got the tickets, my intent was to make my enemies rue the day they ever underestimated me."

Chan let out a full laugh as he pulled away from you again. "I thought you said that you wanted to look hot and successful in front of your high school bullies?"

You rolled your eyes. "Same difference."

He was right. You had been excited to buy the tickets to your high school's alumni event. The opportunity to flaunt how well your life was going was too tempting to pass up. Now that you were here though, you just felt queasy and defeated. What if the same people who had made you feel so small were in the position to do so again?

You wouldn't give them that power. You couldn't.

Making your way up toward the fold-out table where you would exchange your tickets for name tags, you shuddered. The previous class president and head cheerleader sat side by side.

Sensing your unease, Chan's hand immediately found yours and gave a tight squeeze.

"Name?"

"Y/N," you croaked, looking anywhere but at the two people sat in front of you.

"Y/N..." the cheerleader cooed, sliding her finger down the iPad in front of her. "Oh my gosh, Y/N!"

Looking down in surprise, you immediately clocked the malicious joy in her smile. "Yeah, hi."

"You look soooo different!" she purred, making a show of looking you up and down. "And look at that, you lost some of that baby fat! Well, I guess it wasn't really baby fat if you still had it at graduation..."

"You lost weight too," you muttered, lifting a brow. "About 160 lbs worth I believe?"

"What?" she gasped, her hand fanning across her collar bone.

"I believe his name was Steve," Chan piped in with a flawless smile.

You looked over with wide eyes.

"I have Instagram, I know things," Chan said so only you could hear.

"Stevie and I are still close," the cheerleader insisted. "We just couldn't make long distance work."

"It was probably hard to make your sidepiece work in the relationship too," you sighed. "Tough break."

She spluttered, looking from you to Chan. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sure, you don't," you nodded. "Can we get our name tags please?"

Glaring, your old classmate thrust a sticker in your direction. "One for you-"

Turning to Chan, she narrowed her eyes, giving her best attempt at being sultry. "And one for...Chris?"

"Thanks," Chan deadpanned, taking the sticker from her extended hand.

"I don't remember you in our class," she said breathily. You could only roll your eyes. She sounded ridiculous.

"I wasn't," Chan said simply, tugging you along.

You couldn't help the zap of victory as you began to walk away. Not only had you owned that entire exchange, but you had your amazing boyfriend by your side, assisting in the shutdown. That couldn't have turned out any better.

"Thank you for coming with me," you said quietly, allowing him to escort you to an open area where old classmates had begun mingling.

"You don't have to thank me," Chan said happily. "I've got you."

Smiling weakly, you prepared yourself for whatever else was to come. Logically, you knew the evening wouldn't be that bad. After all, you did actually have some friends when you were in school. Just because you imagined yourself to be a social pariah at the time didn't mean that was the actual truth.

Settling in at a table toward the back of the room, you were content with people watching for a while. You felt entirely in your element as you gave Chan the backstory of every person that came across your path. Chuckling and gasping at the appropriate times, you knew your gossipy partner was enjoying the evening as much as you were.

"Are you thirsty?" he finally asked after you had finished a particularly long story about the school mascot getting kidnapped by the Latin club.

"If I plan on talking more shit, I could probably use a beverage," you grinned. He smiled in response and nodded. Untwining his fingers from yours, he hopped up from the table and headed in the direction of the bar.

Humming along to the music pumping through the background of the room, you continued to casually watch the people around you. It was surprising to see just how far everyone had come in the few short years since you had all known each other. You had been such a tsunami of emotions as a teen, it was an odd feeling to see these people through a different lens.

While you had mentally prepared to face friends and foes alike, you had not factored in the continued existence of ex boyfriends. Sure, you had social media stalked plenty of people you had dated in the past but having them here in the flesh was another endeavor entirely. It didn't take long for an entire body shiver to overtake you as you locked eyes with someone you would prefer to have never thought about again.

Jun encompassed everything you wanted to forget about high school. If you toted around words like "high school sweethearts" that would have been the apt description for the two of you. While you spent quite a lot of time falling head over heels for him, he had been busy fostering relationships with at least a handful of other people. He made you into a joke and you would never forgive him for that.

But of course, he was making a bee-line in your direction.

"Why is he even here," you muttered. He had supposedly moved to a different country after graduation. With absolutely no social media footprint, you just assumed he wouldn't be easy to contact.

"Y/N," his familiar voice sighed, a few tones deeper than it once was.

"Jun," you acknowledged stiffly.

"Can't I get a hug?" he asked, his arms slightly extended.

For as good looking and smart as he was, he sure couldn't read the room.

"Depends, do you have any communicable diseases I should be made aware of?" you muttered, glaring up at him.

"Come on," he chuckled. "You don't still have hard feelings, do you?"

You blinked in shock. "Hard feelings?"

"We were kids!" he smiled. "Can't we leave the past behind us?"

You opened your mouth to respond, only to close it again.

"I couldn't have been that bad," he prodded, taking a step toward you. You sat in horror as he began to close the space and wrap his arms around your shoulders. Pulling you into a weird, seated hug, he spoke quietly. "I don't remember the specifics of why we broke up, but I do remember how much I cared about you."

Groaning, you pushed at his chest to untangle yourself. "We are not getting into this right now."

Setting a cup down a little too hard on the table, you watched what you assumed to be Coke Zero slosh onto the white tablecloth. "Is he bothering you, Y/N?"

You breathed a sigh of relief at Chan's appearance. He had crept up behind you. Assuming he had heard the bulk of the exchange, he had likely stepped in when he felt it to be the appropriate time.

"No," you ground out. "He was just leaving."

"Jun," your ex said, ignoring your comment and sticking his hand out toward Chan.

Chan grabbed it a little too tightly, causing Jun to wince. "Chris."

"Is this your new guy, Y/N?" June asked, tilting his head. "Thought it would be someone taller."

Chan let out a small scoff of a laugh. "You don't have to be jealous, mate."

"I've gotta have, what, at least 8 inches on you?" he continued, trying to goad Chan.

"I'll give you that. I'm short," Chan sighed, letting his palms rest on your shoulders. "But ugly is kind of a dead end. What do you plan on doing about it?"

"Enough," you groaned, surging to your feet. "Jun, please crawl back into whatever dark hole you have emerged from."

"Aw baby," he grinned. "Don't be like that."

By his simple statement, you were transported back to being a teen, getting gaslit when the word hadn't even been popularized yet.

"I'm not your "baby,"" you choked, frustration dangling you close to tears.

"You didn't say that when we were in the backseat of my Mazda," he continued. "Or did you forget about that? We made so many good memories together, Y/N."

It felt like something foreign had taken over your body as white, hot rage filled your senses. He was not only trying to embarrass you, but make Chan feel uncomfortable as well. How fucking dare he.

Swinging your arm back, you landed a harsh smack across his face.

Turning on your heel, you stomped off in the direction of the exit. At the edge of your hearing, Chan spoke sternly. "Don't you dare even breath in Y/N's direction again. Understood? You'll wish a smack was the least of your worries."

The feeling in your chest didn't let up until you had pushed your way through the door and felt the cold night air hit your burning skin. You didn't realize at what point you had actually began crying, but your cheeks were wet.

"If you want me to go back in there and make him regret ever attending high school with you, tell me now," Chan said, not far behind you.

"Chriiiis," you moaned, turning to face him. "That won't help anything."

"Who says?" he chimed. "You'll feel better, I'll feel better, and he'll feel worse. It's a win-win-win."

You chuckled, wiping at your eyes. "I appreciate the offer, but no."

"Well, just know, it still stands," he sighed. "I wouldn't hesitate to burn down the world if it meant you felt better when I was done."

"Noted and appreciated," you sighed, collapsing into him. "But I think we can keep the matches tucked away for now."

Wrapping his arms around you, Chan rocked you slowly from side to side. "I am so proud of you," he whispered into your hair, tightening his grip around your waist.

"For what?" you sniffed. "I lost my shit."

"There was nothing wrong with your behavior, love," he cooed. "I'm proud of you for being brave in the face of adversity."

"I'd hardly call running into old schoolmates "adversity," Chris," you groaned, tucking your face even further into his chest.

"I would," he said definitively. "And I won't hear any arguments about it."

"Fine," you swallowed, leaning back to look at his face. His eyes were warm as he assessed you. Reaching up, he wiped a wayward tear cascading down your cheek. "Why do all of my emotions have to be directly attached to my tear ducts?"

"Just lucky like that, I guess," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," you croaked. "My social battery is reaching critically low percentages."

"Let's get you a reset then," he nodded. "Couch nest and take out?"

"You know my love language so well," you hummed. "Thanks again for being here tonight."

"For you, the world, Y/N."

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 6 - Prompt: Obstacle @jegulus-microfic

December Daily Series - 476 words.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

James blinked rapidly as he watched Regulus walk away. He touched the bridge of his glasses, then trailed his fingers over the arms. Regulus had positioned them perfectly on his nose after cleaning them.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Everything Regulus did was intentional and precise. James doubted he ever acted on impulse. He could almost see the calculations in his eyes.

Sirius affectionately called his brother “neurotic,” but James envied his organised mind. The ability to cultivate his thoughts into a plan before acting on it was a brilliant skill. James rarely considered consequences, let alone prepared for any obstacle that he might encounter.

“Jamie!” his mum called, waving from the car park.

He jogged toward her with his jacket flapping wildly in the wind. The crisp seaside air was refreshing after an entire day spent driving up. James had to cram his six foot frame into the centre of the backseat just to stretch his legs out.

“Hey mum, are we ready?”

“I think so! The boys left their skates in the car and I have yours.”

They planned to visit the local ice rink for open skate. Regulus and Sirius took lessons as kids, so they agreed immediately. As soon as they climbed out of the SUV, Regulus’s lips twitched into a fleeting smile. He clutched his joy tight to his chest like a child with a new toy, as though he expected to have it ripped away at any moment.

Regulus whispered to Sirius as they tugged on their skates, then nodded solemnly at his response. It was nice to see them getting along. Their confrontational relationship confused him, but Sirius assured him that it was normal for siblings.

“Prongs, let’s race!” Sirius announced, pulling the guards off of his blades.

“Sure. Are you joining too, Black?” James asked as he hopped over the boards.

Regulus shook his head as he shrugged off his coat and removed extra layers. “I’d rather not. I’ll stay in the centre, I think.”

“Suit yourself.”

James kept pace with Sirius for three laps, his longer stride making up for any deficiencies in his speed. Sirius still won, of course, but it was still fun to expend his pent-up energy. As they slowed to a stroll, his attention drifted to centre ice where Regulus skated backwards in slow, elegant figure eights.

His fitted black trousers and shimmering collared shirt reflected the rink’s lights beautifully. Every turn and skip was flawless. Regulus made it look easy.

“Impressive little shite, isn’t he?” Sirius said, nodding. “He could have gone pro.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“Because he hates to lose. If he isn’t 100% sure that he’ll win, Reggie usually won’t take the risk.”

The logic was sound, even if James didn’t relate to the sentiment. Life without risks sounded tedious, even if it looked lovely. And Regulus always looked lovely.

Next Part >>>

[boldlyexplorational]

Episode 29 "Kirk's worst day ever" "operation: annihilate!"

Here we go, last episode! Peculiar choice for a finale, maybe COTEOF would have been a better choice, if maybe more depressing. But I guess there was a different concept of season finale back then, episodes needed to be stand alone first and foremost.

As a SNW watcher I was really sad about Sam. Poor guy, I didn't deserve that. It's always so sad when you know how a character is going to end up.

The opening was flawless, with McCoy revealing how Kirk's family is on the infected planet. I also love how it's implied that Kirk just did not answer that question and ignored Bones until later to tell him "yeah you were right". That was kinda funny, except for the tragedy of course.

It looked like the episode was filmed in a real place with modern architecture for the time, which I love and it looked cool. The alien parasites also were cool and gross and had clever effects. I'm a sucker for practical effects so I'm biased.

It's a real bad day for Kirk, isn't it? When the wife also died I was like "that's too much", but then when Spock got infected... My headcanon is that he did take a crying break in his quarters. He has the emotional intelligence to know he needed it. But of course you can't show the captain crying.

There's this one moment when Kirk is super impressed with how Spock is resisting the pain of the infection. Kirk decides to compliment Spock in the most effectively flirty way possible: saying that his logic is impeccable. And Spock makes a face like "that was hot, but not now captain, I'm busy fighting to stay alive".

Kirk was SO MAD at bones when he blinded Spock! So mad! He sort of cooled off after, but in the moment I thought he was going to slap bones. Or rather to the signature full body yeet at him.

Shout out to Chapel who shined in this episode, I love that she's such a tough woman!

One last thing I will say, the only thing I didn't really like in the episode: they kept amping the stakes, on and on. They made it personal for Kirk, though there was no need for it (Kirk would have helped anyway). They made the wife die to... Fine , ok I'm concerned now. They made a big deal about the kid... And now SPOCK IS INFECTED! Ok that's A LOT. He's cured, but he's BLIND NOW! I can't take it anymore. Then the episode ends, all is well, everyone's ok, NO MENTION OF WHAT HAPPENS TO KIRK'S ORPHANED NEPHEW. I'm sure they had no money for an extra scene with a child actor, but at least throw a line in there or something. I don't know, I don't mind surreal high stakes but I do hate feeling like I was led on and made feel tense and worried ... For nothing. Like a trap. I know ST writing can be better than this, so I was disappointed.

And it's not the first time they do this too, and I know it also may be because viewers tuning in mid episode needed new stakes to be engaged in the story ... But that doesn't mean you have to escalate at that rate and then diffuse with no consequence.

[year2000electronics]

Ok so what’s shimmer relationship like with the main cast like in the brotherhood au?

RUBS HANDS TOGETHER EVILLY. I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING I WROTE A WHILE BACK ABT SHIM AND THE BROTHERS. HEHEHEHEHEEEE

i havent gotten to the outcasts Yet but. one day. i'll put it below the cut!!

“You probably don’t remember me, but-”

That was the first thing Shimmer had decided to say to baby Branch- no, it was just Branch now, wasn’t it? No matter how hard she looked at him, she could still only see the hopeful, gleaming eyes and the sweet smile as that kid she had come to briefly know so many years ago. It was a tough habit to kick- and the other members of the village clearly had a leg up on her with that.

“No, I remember you!” He replied, swinging his hands back and forth as the two of them walked through the village together. “Johnny doesn’t talk about you anymore, not really, but I remember going over to your pod!”

Shimmer tried her best not to seem too desperate for knowledge. Johnny? Her Johnny? Well- formerly hers. Not anymore? She knew it, he hated her, dammit, why did she come here-

“Oh, yeah? That so?” She laughed quietly. “Gosh, you’d make a mess of the place… you were so cute.”

“Yeah…” Branch said, looking off to the side. He was clearly quite a bit surprised, hearing someone talk about him through their sole memories of him being a baby. “It’s… been a long time since then, though.”

“I know, I know,” Shimmer assured quickly. “You’re all grown up now. And it makes me feel… very old.” She gave a laugh to shrug it off, but… it was true. Staring her in the face was the very sobering realization that it had been nearly two decades… Two decades since she had seen any of these people. And yet, somehow, despite Branch going from a baby to an adult…

…It felt like he had changed the least.

“Well- you don’t look very old,” Branch chirped. “Not to me.”

Shimmer looked back at him with a sort of sad smile, combing her hair out of her face.

“...You’re sweet, kid,” She mumbled. 

“No, really! You look Johnny’s age, and he’s not old, so… you’re not old either, right?” Branch grinned. He thought his logic was flawless, clearly. 

Shimmer snorted. “Is that how you see it?”

“Yup.”

Shimmer laughed, and decided to leave it at that. Branch’s peculiar little sense of humor did amuse her, to be sure. 

“So-” Shimmer asks after a bit of silence. “Do you mind if I ask you something, ah… a bit personal, kid?”

“Depends,” Branch said with a shrug. “What is it?”

“What was it like? Growing up here, I mean,�� Shimmer asked.

Branch paused for a moment, to think about it. He looked up at the sky, down at the ground, every which way, except at her.

“Normal, I guess?” He shrugged. “We’re safe here, and I had my brothers. I don’t know what else a guy could want.”

Shimmer supposed she should have expected an answer like that. Of course Branch would see everything as deceptively normal. From the time she spent at the village, she didn’t exactly discover any blood sacrifices or chaos magic rituals happening behind closed doors or anything, and even though John and his brothers had morphed into slightly mythic figures, they weren’t referred to as His Holiness or anything. 

“Guess so,” Shimmer replied. “I was just… gone for so long, I’ve been curious, I suppose. About all the changes.”

“There aren’t that many,” Branch mumbled.

“No?”

“No.”

That’s what Branch’s mouth said. But his eyes told a different story. 

—---------------------- 

Shimmer sat down in Bruce’s pod, staring him down. 

His hand automatically moved to grab some matchmaker’s tarot cards when Shimmer lowered it before he could.

He glanced up at her, confused.

“Don’t,” She grunted. “I’m not here for that. I don’t even want to know.”  The sooner she could stop Bruce from doing the matchmaking thing, the better. There was a whole nest of hornets there- and whatever he said about her “potential prospects” would just remind her that a part of her never moved on from John Dory. 

“Then-” Bruce furrowed his brow, leaning back. “What are you here for?”

Shimmer gave him a surprised glance. “For you. Is that so hard to believe?”  

Bruce scoffed, leaning on one of his hands as he pressed his elbow onto the table. “Usually people come to the matchmaker’s pod because they want their match made, miss Shimmer. And yet, here you are, asking for me and not even wanting a match while you’re here! I think that makes you the strange one.”

Shimmer groaned. “Neither of us are strange, Bruce, don’t play this game with me-” 

Bruce laughed. “Oh, man- I did miss this. How is it that I’m always able to get under your skin?”

“I don’t know, you little devil-” Shimmer snorted. She cleared her throat, combing some hair out of her face. “But- that’s the only part that feels like it hasn’t changed, after all this time. What’s someone like you doing with a job like… this?”

Bruce frowned. “Are you trying to imply this isn’t a real job? The village won’t like that.”

Shimmer furrowed her brow, putting a hand up. “That’s not what I said. I mean- this job feels so prestigious. And everyone I asked about you immediately followed ‘Bruce’ up with ‘The matchmaker’. Doesn’t that… bother you at all?”

“Would it really matter if it did?” Bruce said with a shrug. 

“I mean-!” Shimmer gave an exasperated sigh. “I… I just want to understand. Everyone here is used to this, used to you all being leaders, I was just…” She shrugged. “I guess I was just hoping an old friend might be able to help me stop sticking out like a sore thumb.”

Bruce frowned, studying Shimmer’s face and body language. She seemed to be sincere, though her pride clearly held her back from just straight-up begging. And he did feel quite a bit bad for her… it was true that Bruce and Shimmer had been pretty close back when he was Spruce, and back when Shimmer was “JD’s girl”. They got on each others’ nerves endlessly, but that was almost part of the charm.

…He could use something like that again, perhaps. Nowadays, the only teasing he could get away with was either to Baby Branch or doing something so subtle to JD and Floyd that most other people shouldn’t be able to notice. 

“...Being a matchmaker is fine,” Bruce began to speak. “I’m rarely ever wrong, I’ll have you know. People trust me, and I like that. It feels… good to be trusted, I guess.”

He took out a tarot card from his deck, studying it. “I mean- I’m trusted for manners of romance, friendship, intimacy… But nobody is puttin’ pressure onto me to be a leader. In a way, I guess… I’ve got the best job in town.” 

“Still,” Shimmer said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind hanging out with Bruce-the-man instead of Bruce-the-matchmaker. If you can bear taking some time off your busy schedule.”

Bruce tilted his head noncommittally. “I’ll think about it. Gotta keep up appearances, y’know. That’s a big part of everything.” 

“I guess,” Shimmer half heartedly agreed. “Not that I’d know.”

“It’s good that you don’t,” Bruce replied, an oddly soft tone in his voice. So soft that Shimmer dare not toe the line and ask him to elaborate on that. Her absence of a question, though, left the two of them sitting in the candlelit room in silence.

“...So what’s the story behind the new name?” Shimmer asked to break it.

“Eh,” Bruce waved a hand casually. “I wanted a reinvention.”

Shimmer paused, mulling that over. “It suits you,” She said, finally. 

“Thanks,” Bruce smirked. He held up a hand, tilting it towards her. Between his fingers was a tarot card.

“Hey! I thought I told you not to do the matchmaking thing!” Shimmer protested with a frown.

“Relax, miss Shimmer,” Bruce replied coyly. “This one’s just about your social standing.” 

She took the card from him, studying it- oh. It was The Star.

“It means renewal,” Bruce said simply.

—--------------------------

“Morning, Floyd. I’d apologize for interrupting but I feel like that ship’s sailed already,” Shimmer grunted, going to sit on a mat near where Floyd was meditating.

He cracked an eye open, glancing over at her. “...Shimmer,” He said with a simple nod.  

She began stretching her legs, grunting every so often- this type of stuff didn’t come as easy to her as she wanted it to. 

“...Why did you come back?” Floyd asked bluntly. That made Shimmer stop in her tracks, glancing over at the younger troll with a befuddled look on her face.

Floyd put his hands up in a gesture of false surrender. “I don’t mean it like that! Don’t misunderstand! It’s just… one doesn’t just wander back into a place like this without reason.”

“Well- it’s home,” Shimmer admitted, bending down to touch her toes. “I was feeling… disoriented. Like I had lost myself. I didn’t know where else to go, so… I came back home.”

“Yeah, sure, but… you said it yourself. This place has changed. So, I guess, a better question would be… what made you stay?” Floyd asked as he bent himself into a different position. His tone was casual and calm, but there was a certain hunger in his eyes that let Shimmer know that he was very invested in this line of conversation. 

Shimmer’s mouth went dry. That… that was a good question. Especially since Floyd was playing a bit of a dangerous game, where she would make a major social faux pas if she wasn’t careful- Floyd was implying that someone coming to the village and staying there was strange. Of course, it was a perfectly safe place, but Shimmer knew she and Floyd both could feel the gated-community vibe of the village where nobody ever comes in and nobody ever comes out. She counted herself damn lucky that they even let her in at all. 

“...I suppose I’d say- it’s because some part of this place didn’t change,” Shimmer mumbled. 

“Really?” Floyd asked, stretching one of his legs to the sky.

“Really. That’s what keeps me here… I think. It’s all very confusing, this new village stuff, but when I look at all my old friends here… I guess I can’t help but see the boys I used to know,” Shimmer bashfully said as if she was admitting a crime. 

“So you really believe that…” Floyd said quietly. “And- is it the same with me?”

“Sure it is,” Shimmer said, rolling over to be on her stomach as she grabbed one of her legs. “You were always the one who sat in the back, weren’t you? Just… watching. Soaking it all in. I still see a lot of that in you today. With Branch and Bruce, too, the more I talk to them, the more I realize there’s still parts of you I’ve met before.”

She sighed. “Stupid, I know.” 

“No, I don’t think it’s stupid at all…” Floyd replied. “I… I think it’s kinda nice, actually.” 

He smiled, looking up at the roof of the large cave they called home. He let the moment sit for a bit.

“Sometimes… I don’t really feel like that boy anymore. I don’t feel like I was ever him at all. It’s… confusing, I guess,” Floyd said at last.

“Ugh, tell me about it-” Shimmer grunted, stretching out another one of her joints. “I was looking at an old poster of myself yesterday, and it was like- who WAS she?” 

Floyd gave a gentle little laugh. “I guess we’re more alike than we thought, then. It’s… nice.”

“I don’t get to talk to people much about this stuff,” Floyd continued. “Me, Johnny and the others try to be strong… for the village. So- it just… doesn’t come up.”

Shimmer gave him a nervous glance. “I’m not stepping over a line, am I? You’d tell me if I broke some sort of village rule. You would. Right?”

“Calm down,” Floyd squeaked desperately. “You’re fine.” 

Shimmer sighed. “Sorry… sorry. It’s just-”

“A lot, yeah,” Floyd finished. “That’s the village for you.”

—-------------------------

Shimmer was never sure if it was her place to mourn Clay or not. She had known him once, but at the same time, that was a long time ago. Was it illogical that she felt like she didn’t deserve to mourn him like his brothers did? Maybe. But she couldn’t change how she felt.

Still, that wouldn’t stop her from leaving some lily-of-the-valleys near his memorial spot every now and again. 

“Sorry I missed you, Clay,” She murmured. “I would have liked to have gotten to know who you grew into.”

—---------------

Shimmer wasn’t looking forward to this. She wasn’t looking forward to any of this. In fact, she had taken extreme, deliberate steps to avoid this from happening.

But what she hadn’t accounted for was bumping into John Dory on his stupid shitty morning walk, DAMMIT- 

He dusted himself off, clearly taking on a facial expression that was preparing for an apology, only for him to realize exactly who it was he had bumped into. Right- the troll he hadn’t talked to since he initially told the village to let her in.

Oh, yeah.

Also, his ex. 

“...Shimmer,” He was the first one to cut through the silence as he looked up at her, adjusting his scarf. “You look… well.”

Shimmer scoffed, looking away. “You and I both know that’s a gross exaggeration.”

John frowned as she looked away. That caught her eye. She coughed, immediately trying to steer the ship of a conversation back on topic. Much as this was her old flame… this guy was also someone she clearly didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Best not to get… too testy.

“But- other than looking like I rolled out of bed basically every day, I’ve been-” She sighed. “Fine. How about… you? How- uh- how have you been?” 

John Dory blinked once or twice, not expecting her to turn the question back on him. “Me? Oh, yes, I’ve been great, as usual. Never a bad day here in the village. Heh. You haven’t… been having any trouble, have you? I know the villagers can get a bit testy with… ‘new’ people.”

Shimmer shook her head no, folding her arms. “No, it’s been fine. Just… just fine.”

“Good… and you’ve been behaving too… right?” He said- although his tone was light as a feather, he knew the underlying meaning in what he said- here was a girl he had been close with before she disappeared- She could drag him back down to feeling mortality, be so casual with him in a way he hadn’t felt from anyone besides his brothers in years- and if she wanted to disprove his lie, he’d have to put whatever feelings he still had for her aside. For the sake of the village.

“You think so low of me, John,” Shimmer scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I’ve been behaving. I’m a guest here- guests follow the host’s policies, and they’re thankful. That’s how I was raised.”

“Good!” JD chirped. “I wasn’t too worried about that,” He lied. It slipped naturally off his tongue as smooth as butter. 

Shimmer paused, looking him up and down some more. He looked at her looking at him, waiting to see her reaction and cautiously preparing for it.

“...It’s a bit of a different look for you, I’ll admit, but… I don’t hate it,” Shimmer spoke with a shrug. “The red looks nice.”

John laughed, flicking an earring. “Ahhh- thank you. It does, doesn’t it? I’ll admit, your look was a bit surprising, too. You’ve really changed, I almost didn’t-”

He paused, not wanting to finish the sentence… but Shimmer knew what he was going to say.

I almost didn’t recognize you. 

She knew that’s what he wanted to say, because she thought it when she first saw him.

Jeez, what were they? They used to be a teen hot couple, the poster boy and poster girl for puppy-love… But here she was, a disgraced pop troll who couldn’t sing… and there he was. The hero and saviour of an entire village. 

It was more obvious to her now than it was to her than that him even noticing her at all was… nothing but a stroke of luck. A fluke. There he was, brilliant, important, in control… And then there was her. A total mess. A flop. She felt like an intruder in the village, and now, being face-to-face with JD only made things worse. In every other brother, she saw that past part of them she once knew, but with John, she felt like she was only reminded of her own insecurities, her own failings. 

She swerved past him, eyes firmly trained onto the ground.

“I’ll get out of your way, John,” She mumbled half-heartedly, trying to just put a miserable end to the conversation and stop her mind from attacking herself so loudly. But as soon as she started walking, she found herself unable to keep going. Locked around her arm was none other than JD’s hand. She glanced back, looking at him in confusion.

“Wait,” He started. “...Come over to my pod sometime. You, ah, need to update me more on how you’re settling in. Yes. As the village leader… it’s part of my responsibilities, y’know? So- don’t leave me hanging.”

Shimmer’s breath caught in her throat. She hated the idea of seeing him more, and yet, the fact that he had requested her presence specifically… It made her heart skip a beat. 

“...Sure, yes,” She replied quietly.

She expected John to let her go at this point, but he kinda just kept staring at her in silence for a while. Somehow, she found herself staring back.

“...I’ve missed you,” He confessed with a breathy whisper. 

Shimmer tried to muster back a reply, but words failed her. She tried again, and again-

“I didn’t even think that was possible,” She finally said back. 

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

hi! feel free to disregard this if you feel its an intrusive question or you just wish not to respond.

i saw your response on the post about adhd reward systems and was intruiged and a bit inspired/validated/something. im an undergrad psych/human dev student right now aiming to get a msw and clinical license to do therapy and i struggle with managing my adhd for more than a couple months at a time quite a bit. i often question whether or not i will be able to be in any helping profession due to not feeling like i can manage my own functioning issues. it feels contradictory to me to imagine therapists (and especially possible future me as an lcsw) struggling with anything while still being good therapists. though i know logically that everyone struggles with things from time to time, it feels like one might feel unqualified to help others if they are not able to manage their own issues all of the time.

i was wondering if you had any wisdom about reconciling these things as a therapist with adhd. i was very interested in what you shared about how you manage days when you are having a harder time.

Awwww, rats hun, I'm sorry that you've been worrying about this! I really want to encourage you to reach out off Anon, cuz I'd love to chat more, one social worker to another 💚

That said, I'm gonna try and respond to your ask here as best I can!

First off, it's not too intrusive a question (for me) at all! I try to be really open about certain things in my life, and tend not to reference something on here I'm not comfortable talking more about. Even if it did feel intrusive, I'd answer what I *was* comfy with and declined to comment on the rest.

As for needing to have your own house in order to be able to help others, I mean....yeah, to some extent. But you're a human being, and so are the people on the other side of the chair, and we all benefit from learning how to fuck up safely and come back from that so like. I don't subscribe to the idea that therapists need to be flawless people. There are absolutely things to be attentive to/cautious about (including how we are impacting the person, the space, and the conversation, etc) but I've actually developed BETTER dynamics with clients who let me know I did something they didn't like or that hurt them, and being able to move forward together with a plan to better protect their boundaries in the space. And if the parts of you that you're worried about is outside the space, well. That's why most therapists have therapists. To process, reflect, and monitor ourselves for warning signs that we're sliding outside our boundaries. No one is perfectly under control all the time.

And with ADHD specifically, one of the biggest things people need and deserve access to is the safety to fail, the safety to drop habits and have to pick them back up after things pile up, the safety to not feel ashamed of their experience of the world. Without the active work of unwinding those feelings of shame, behavioral tools/accommodations are often a lot less effective for us. And for a demographic that specifically struggles with emotional security/consistency, that's often an intense process for us to go through. Knowing other people we perceive as successful and thriving may ALSO experience similar cycles and needs to us. If clients genuinely think therapists are perfect, it's easy for those of us on the other side of the chair to let the shame evolve into comparison as a way to self-blame for our perceived failure.

I got my ADHD diagnosis part way through my MSW, and didn't get medicated for it until after I had graduated. I was uhhhhhhhh

Obsessive. About my routines, my organization, my back up plans, all of it. It was hard to believe I could function if I wasn't meeting everyone's expectations all the time. But it's unsustainable. It **can't** last forever. Especially when everything is just. So overwhelming all the time.

So I definitely don't want you to think that the only way to get to your clinical license is to demand that you always operate at 100% capacity in order to justify not be flawless. A lot of us carry that burden with us well into adulthood, and truly? It's the other way around. The more comfort, ease of access to resources, and sense of security we have in our lives, the better we're able to make our way towards patterns that work for us.

I don't want to give the impression that the specifics of my coping strategies are A) comprehensively effective, and/or B) universally applicable. So I'm gonna kinda stick with the underlying philosophy.

Essentially, one of the most important things is that any strategies I rely on are capable of being picked back up without judgement or major disruption. So for example, I keep a daybook calendar. It was recommended by another ADHDer as an effective way of visualizing and navigating executive dysfunction. It's divided up into days, weeks, months, and quarter years. Most importantly, it's undated. I have had this (and been using the exact same) daybook for over 2yrs. Periodically, I lose momentum for days, weeks, or even months. But when I finally get back the bandwidth to pick it back up, all I have to do is turn to a new week and date it for my current week. I just picked back up yesterday after not using it since last summer lmao

There's this concept in behavioral training for dogs called "no failure" where essentially (deeply simplified!!!) you always mark and reward whatever positive behaviors you get from the dog as a process of positive reinforcement of what you want from them. And while you wouldn't reward unsafe or inappropriate behavior from the dog, the second they redirect, no matter what they were doing a minute ago, you mark and reward.

I've been training my dogs this way for a good 5-6yrs now, and everywhere they go people will hunt me down to ask me how I get them to be so polite and responsive.

People aren't dogs, obvi, but this positive reinforcement process still functions similarly. So like, when I work with kids and families on "behavior issues" I get families to like. Essentially remove proactive consequences. Natural consequences happen, because that's life, but you still shouldn't abandon them to figuring out a solution on their own. It's a lot of modeling, marking, and rewarding, and a lot of repetitive and continuous conversations about why certain rules exist or why certain expectations are had, etc. An example here might be a "behavior chart" with tiered rewards. Each day that behavior is in line with safety and meeting needs, you mark and reward it. Every week that this is true for all 7 days, you mark and reinforce with a slightly more valuable reward. And on top of that, you have "high value" rewards for cumulative successes. If you hit 28 days of success (even if they're not consecutive, rather intermittent with non-marked days across like. 3 months or whatever) the reinforcement reward has been earned and that's that.

Partially, this process helps reframe dysregulation from "failure" to "interruption." And partially, this ensures that every success builds on previous successes, making it easier to remember backwards that good and bad days both happen, even when we have a hard time remembering what "not now" feels like.

Everything I build for myself is like that. No failure, mark and reinforce. Sometimes I do it for myself, sometimes my wife helps me, and sometimes I learn to arrange positive and affirming natural consequences of my choices. It just sort of depends what makes the most sense.

Another pillar of the underlying philosophy here is that eveything is contextual. Any change in the circumstances might change how our needs around that circumstance presents. So if a strategy or tool isn't working anymore, it's not because I've failed, it's because something about my physical and/or emotional landscape has changed since the last time I sat with myself about what helps me function. Maybe it's a temporary change (just for the day cuz I'm tired or sick for example), or maybe it's long term (when we moved to the city it became important for me to get regular, intentional sunlight because if I wasn't proactive about it, I would isolate indoors and struggle more for example), but whichever it is, all that matters is that I acknowledge what's changed about my needs without judgement or self-shaming. It's a *straightforward* process, but certainly not an easy or time-sensitive process.

Anyway, hun, you're still in your undergrad. I absolutely ASSURE you, you will not be the same person by the time you graduate from your master's. It's like stone going through pressure and heat. *Something* is always gonna change. So cut yourself a lil slack about where you are now. You aren't pressed for time, I promise.

[tired-of-being-nice]

"i can't think straight"

time to put coren through the spaghetti press :)

cws: injury, referenced mind manipulation/brainwashing

Coren's brain feels like sludge. 

There's probably a better word for that, but they can't think of it right now. Thinking, generally, is hard. Normally Coren likes not being able to think— it makes doing their job easier—but this is– this is a lot. The Company must have really wanted them to forget something, because now they can't seem to remember anything. Coherent thoughts are slipping through their fingers like water. This feels...bad.

Even in its sludged state, Coren's brain recoils from thinking such disloyal thoughts. The Company wouldn't hurt them. It must be Coren's fault, somehow, for doing whatever it is they did to deserve this.

...Somehow, this logic doesn't seem as flawless as usual. Coren tries, instead, to comfort itself by reminding itself that someone—they can't remember who—told it before it left today that this would probably wear off eventually.

Probably.

It's not all bad, though. For example, they currently feel only remotely connected to their body, which is a nice break from the painful experience of actually being in it. They observe, distantly, that their foot is throbbing and their shoulder may be slightly dislocated, and that black spots are floating in front of their vision, but none of that stops them from moving forward.

At least, it shouldn't. Coren pulls its mind back together long enough to realize that its body, the useless, traitorous thing, has collapsed to the ground while they weren't paying attention. It takes considerable effort to get it moving again. It's so hard to move and think at the same time. It's so much work. They want it to stop.

Please, they think. Please. Please. Please. They can't think of anything else—not what they're asking for or who they're asking for it. That's too much effort. This is all they can do. Please. Please. Please.

[taminoarticles]

— Tamino for Glamcult, #138 THE SANCTUM ISSUE / November 2022 (x)

SURRENDERING TO WHATEVER'S HAPPENING AT THE MOMENT: TAMINO

WORDS BY GRACE POWELL PHOTOGRAPHY BY JORRE JANSSENS

Belgian-Egyptian musician TAMINO-AMIR MOHARAM FOUAD (aka Tamino) is the singer-songwriter pulling on our heartstrings. Grandson to renowned movie star MUHARRAM FOUAD, Tamino has had stardom in his veins from the very beginning. Trained at the AMSTERDAM ROYAL CONSERVATORY, and having seen his first glimpse of fame with the 2017 release, Habibi, the artist has since been heard on stages around Europe. It was the release of his 2018 album, Amir, which made the world stop, listen and reflect as he hypnotised us all with tracks such as Indigo Night and goddess of nature, Persephone. After what felt like a prolonged hiatus — not so much as a cheeky Insta’ story — this year Tamino is back with his sophomore album, Sahar. Glamcult spoke with Tamino after the release of his first album, so why not make a tradition of it? From the flawless sounds of the Oud, the sight of a flamingo stuck in the mud, to his early days studying classical piano — we cover a lot from the backseat of a car en route to his Glamcult shoot in the depths of BELGIUM.

Gc: Hi Tamino. How’s it going? 

T: I’m good thank you — ready for my Glamcult shoot, so you know all about my day! The location is crazy, I didn’t even know this existed in Belgium. 

Gc: Yes, I’m the anonymous producer of your day, ha-ha. It’s going to be great. To start, could you tell us a bit about your musical beginnings?

T: Of course. So, if I go to the very beginning, I started with piano when I was around ten or eleven years old. It was my mum, actually, who proposed it, as she saw that I had a fascination for music. My mum also played classical piano, so it was a logical move for both myself and her. However, I didn’t last very long…

Gc: Logical — but less sustainable?

T: Honestly, I stopped because I didn’t have the patience to study the classical pieces to perfection. Because of this, I then decided to take a break from music for about a year before I started going back to the piano again. This time, I returned with a different mindset and I started to play freely; choosing my own chords and writing my own songs. This began when I was around fourteen.

Gc: So, no emo phase?

T: I did play in a couple of bands before finally performing solo at around seventeen.

Gc: I like this idea of beginning rigidly, and within that rigidity finding your draw to fluidity. Do you still feel like you need this freedom in music today as you did as a child?

T: I always pursue freedom in sound. Even though I love classical music (both listening to it and going to concerts) — and of course, I have admiration for those who are able to learn a piece to perfection. However, it just wasn’t for me as it was always someone else’s latest.

Gc: You recently released the single (and video) Fascination, one of the first tracks from your latest album, Sahar. What inspired this song?

T: Like most of my songs, it all began with noodling on the guitar. I usually begin by humming a melody before finding the words. For this song, however, the words came with the melody. There is this one specific anecdote within this song — “I didn’t cry for that flamingo stuck in the salt. Didn’t care for it at all, While you couldn’t hold your tears, Your fascination’s always fascinated me.” This came from watching BBC Planet with my significant other. It was about how our different reactions to the same scene caused inspiration.

Gc: So, it can really come from anywhere… Any other unusual inspiration points?

T: It’s so difficult to pinpoint! Often it’s less specific than this case. That’s the beautiful thing about songwriting. Often you don’t know how it happens — which is strange in itself. Even though you can sharpen your tools through practice, you still never know what’s going to happen.

Gc: It’s a never-ending journey…

T: Exactly. I feel like when it comes to songwriting, it’s very hard to become a master of your craft.

Gc: However, sonically — do certain genres inspire you? For example, there are many clear Arabic references, alongside folk music and jazz within your work.

T: The influences are for sure there. I love Arabic music.

Gc: Has living in Antwerp influenced your sound at all?

T: It has of course influenced me; however, I wouldn’t know precisely how. Antwerp is a cool place, but I think it’s time to spend some time elsewhere. Although, I’m going on tour soon — so it’s out of the question at the moment. 

Gc: A lot of artists I speak to describe the act of music creation as occuring subconsciously. Do you have the same experience?

T: Yes and no. It’s still me writing, but I can relate to this.

Gc: Your first release from the album, the aptly named The First Disciple, broke your online silence. Why did you pick this song as your reintroduction?

T: This song sits at the heart of the album… It’s also the longest song on the album (a side note, but still cool). Sonically, The First Disciple represents some new sounds I experimented with on this album. The combination of the nylon-string classical guitar with the nylon-string oud was super important to me. Lyrically, this song is also improtant to me.

Gc: Throughout the whole album your sound is far more complex than your previous work. Did this change in sound bring up any nervousness?

T: No, not really. I would have only felt nervous if I wasn't happy with the album.

Gc: That's the truly worst-case scenario.

T: But I'm super happy with the album, and stand fully behind it so I don’t have nerves.

Gc: As you should be. Before the release, you had a social media blackout — why?

T: I feel like when I'm not releasing new music, I have nothing to say. Social media is a HUGE distraction. Those apps are designed for you to become addicted. | know myself; if it's on my phone I will look at it at least three times a day. It was extremely liberating to not have Instagram on my phone for two years, it allowed me to be bored. Boredom is very important for the creative process,

which was the main reason why I didn't have it on my phone.

Gc: It’s kind of insane how today boredom has to be sought after. It’s a hard road to take.

T: It's true. You have to choose boredom, instead of just letting it happen the way it would in the past. lt's a conscious decision to not go on your phone, scroll through Instagram and so forth. We need to let things be as they are.

Gc: You're going on tour. How are you feeling about that?

T: On tour, you're everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It's not real life. However, playing live feels special. It's cliché, but I love playing for people that appreciate your music and the fact that you're sharing something with a group. Sometimes it feels like a transfer of energy. This transfer is healing.

Gc: Music certainly has healing properties. Presumable creating, performing and so forth is your safe space?

T: Performing to such a huge amount of people, you all feel open. You're all surrendering to whatever's happening in the moment. It connects to what we were saying earlier about

distractions. When performing, these distractions are not there, I'm fully in the moment. This moment is then something you can share with so many people. In this space there's room for emotion, there's room for everything to just exist. It feels both healing and freeing. It's the best high there is.

Gc: We're so excited about the launch of Sahar. What do you hope for your audience to feel from the album?

T: Honestly, whatever they want. I really have no say in that.

Gc: Do you feel a separation from your work once it’s released? Like it’s no longer yours?

T: A bit, I see the music as just as much mine as I do the listeners. Of course, I have my interpretations, thoughts, beliefs. I also have hopes for the listener's ability to read into the lyrics or hear about the songs. But in the end, | have no say.

Gc: And finally (and potentially, most importantly) what have you taken away from the album?

T: This album felt more experimental in the recording process. The arrangements really came from letting go (as opposed to being a control freak). So, I think this became a lesson. Letting things go in the creative process can lead to beautiful things. That's been the most important lesson.

[brick-a-doodle-do]

oneshot! this is the thing i was talking about on the poll,,, fair warning i did delete it and then start planning like 4 chapters but i decided no, brick, keep the original and deal with not liking it :D

so yes, here this is! randomly made a 2k fic after deciding to write down a scene before i forgot it,,,

PLEASE lmk if u want more of this because i do have ideas for it ! ,,

but the smoke clears when you're around

wc: 1837

cw: swearing, slight character panic

—–—

“Technoblade, there is something out there—I swear, Technoblade! It’s fucking gigantic! And you know I don’t throw that word around lightly, Technoblade. It’s fucking huge—hide me, hide me Technoblade!” Tommy pleads, throwing himself into the  cabin. Techno grimaces as the sharp air from outside pecks at his face.

Techno turns at him, unamused and startled. As the kid approaches, he instantly catches Tommy’s flailing arms that explain his dire situation in grand detail in his tight fists. His fingers slide seamlessly around the kid’s thin arms and he stops talking, though the uncertainty in his expression never dims.

“Tommy, relax,” Techno instructs.

“But, Techno—”

Techno cuts him off. “If there was something out there, what are the chances of it getting to us?” Technoblade muses, his voice wavering on pure amusement against Tommy’s worry. At the kid's disappointment, Techno sighs. “Where’d you see it?” 

Tommy takes in a healthy gasp of air as he prepares to ramble on again, but he quickly shuts his mouth as he reconsiders. That’s not like Tommy. So, Techno does the only sensible thing and urges him further.

“Where did you see it?” he repeats, putting more emphasis on the importance of a response.

The blond is quiet for a moment. The crackling fire in the background is the only thing keeping the voices from overpowering any chance of hearing Tommy’s voice. (That is, the only one he could predict from such a seethingly unprompted mood like Tommy’s.)

Then, finally, Tommy speaks up and his giddy attitude returns. “Heh, Technoblade, I don’t see why a location is in order. I think the more important part is that there’s something fucking gigantic roaming around the server,” he says, mindfully, and smugly before turning around to venture the room. 

“Yeah, I get that, but where on the server, Tommy? I can’t do anything if I don’t know where ‘it’ is.”

Tommy’s shoulders shrink, but his posture rightens back up after a pondering few seconds, and as he examines a brewing stand he can see his giddy smile. 

“Aren’t you the ‘uman GPS’?” Tommy asks. He puts his stupid spin on the word ‘human’ and Techno shudders at the mispronunciation. 

“Not if I’ve never been there,” Techno deadpans.

“I disagree with that.” 

“With what? What is there to disagree with? My logic is flawless.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s comm—”

Techno grunts and trails after the kid who’s looking downstairs to avoid eye contact. He grabs onto the kid’s shirt easily, the red cloth pulling against Tommy’s neck as he drags him back. The blond makes an indignant choking noise as he pulls him to face Techno (or rather his fears), one over-forced and one that, once again, makes him shudder. 

Cringe, he might’ve said had the moment been crisp.

“Where did you see this giant, Tommy?” Technoblade instead asks, spinning the kid around and keeping his hands firmly on his shoulders to keep him from escaping. 

Begrudgingly, Tommy seems to accept his defeat. “Ugh, fine, Techno-bitch. I saw it at Logstedshire,” he says.

And the air in the room comes to a decided halt.

“And I’m sure you have a great reason for bein’ there?” Techno urges, and Tommy shrugs.

“Not really,” he trails off, drawling out the word ‘really’ and leaving space for further explanation. “Uh—I wasn’t really there! I was around…”

Technoblade raises his eyebrows, but he lets Tommy continue.

“Oh, you don’t believe me. Okay, dickhead, I was poking around, looking for—uh….a dog—”

“A dog?” he echoes, frowning indifferently. 

“Work with me here, Technoblade. I was looking for a dog, and then this fucking giant-ass thing shook the ground, and I bolted it! What more can I say?” Tommy finishes with a hopeful smile.

“Uhuh,” Techno hums. “Coulda’ been an earthquake,” he suggests.

Tommy frowns. “A what?” 

There's a moment of shared silence before Tommy breaks it with, “Whatever. I know there was something there, Techno, it wasn’t no fucking ‘earth-quack’.” 

“You never know.”

“You're fucking stupid. Anyway I've come to you for supplies. Gapple’s ‘n’ shit. I want to fight it.”

Techno blinks at him before releasing Tommy’s shoulders (he had seemed disturbed by the entrapment) and folding his arms over his chest. “Tommy, you hear yourself? You're not taking more of my gapples. I need them,” he explains. 

“For what?! You live in bare-ass nowhere, Technoblade. Whereas I am saving the world from giants,” Tommy tries.

Doomsday runs dry on Technoblade’s tongue. 

“I don't see why my business is your business. No gapples, Tommy.”

“But Technoblade!” Tommy whines, holding his hands in a prayer position and curling his fingers over his palms. “We’re ally's, innit? 'Mí casa es su casa’?”

“No.”

Tommy takes one look at him before bolting in the other direction; towards the ladder downstairs. 

He doesn't get very far considering that Technoblade then lunges at him and grabs the kid’s arm, (who shrieks at an ungodly volume that he swears scares the nearby birds away), again before he can even logicate a plan to find the gapples. 

Tommy groans as again, Techno turns him around and holds him in place. 

The longer Techno stares at him, the further Tommy shrinks. Until finally, Technoblade makes an offer. 

“Alright, here me out,” he starts, loosening his grip on the kid, “I go exploring' around Logstedshire and see what I find.” The proposal is out of his league, and it seems even Tommy realizes that as his eyes blow wide. 

“Wh—really?”

“Well, you’re kind of makin’ me change my mind,” Techno murmurs, pulling a utility belt around his torso and fastening it. Techno takes an axe from where it lay across the top of a furnace, collecting dust for the foreseeable future—now. He shoves the handle into a pocket on the belt, then turns to Tommy, who’s watching him intently.

“Can I trust you enough to leave my gapples and my supplies alone?”

Tommy blinks at him. “Psh, Technoblade, I’m the most trustworthy person out there. I won’t touch a thing,” Tommy says smoothly, clearly lying, but it satisfies Techno. If he comes back robbed, well, he knows his next target.

“Alright, bye, Tommy,” he says, making a move for the front door and slipping out of it seamlessly. Tommy bids him a goodbye, and he faces the arctic biome. It’s daylight, long enough for the journey over to Logstedshire, at least. His way back may be trickier.

He moves to Carl’s stable, opening the doors to it and approaching the horse. It huffs upon his arrival, allowing Techno to stroke the bridge of his nose before he’s instructing the horse to follow him. Carl obliges easily after having done it umpteenth times, stepping out of the covered stable and into the light snowfall, which crunches under the two’s feet (and hooves) as they walk across the clearing. Near his staircase, Techno shifts onto a step, then hoists himself over Carl, who’d been saddle-less as of now, not that it matters much. 

“We’re takin’ a trip to Logstedshire for Tommy,” Techno says to Carl, who in return huffs. “Little fool can’t tell when he’s imagining things,” he murmurs, kicking at Carl’s side gently to get him moving. There’re reigns on him that Techno only tugs at once to guide him in the direction of Tommy’s exile.

The trip is quiet, Techno murmuring things under his breath or keeping Carl entertained with aimless humming, until finally, the arctic turns to a forest, and the forest turns into a beach. He slips off of Carl at the edge of the forest, pulling a spare lead from his pocket and tying it to a tree, just in case what Tommy was saying was true.

His attention turns to Logsted, it’s blown-up remains settling in nicely and giving him a clear view of the nearby beach. But, quickly, he realizes that there’s something rather off—and perhaps that was the giant nestled on the ground, criss-cross, with his hands in his head, and flashing a familiar green getup that made him pause.

“Dream?” he whispers, looking back at Carl before rushing over to the giant form of his friend. “Ah, Dream?” Techno calls out, loudly, loud enough to startle Dream into looking up. His mask covers most of his expression, though he can feel the distress radiating off of him.

“Techno—” Dream says, cutting his own self off.

“Yep. Uh, what are you doin’ all giant?”

As he approaches further after waiting for a response, he notices how miniscule he is compared to Dream at this point—barely the size of his hand. Perhaps if it was someone else, he may have laughed, or perhaps been wary, but with Dream, he found it nothing short of concerning. 

Dream would never do this to himself. 

“Don’t—Don’t come near me,” Dream warns, and Techno’s eyes shift. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he adds.

“Hurt me?” Techno snorts. “I’m good, Dream, I have thorns. Wanna tell me how this happened?”

Dream shrugs. “I messed up on a potion. I—I didn’t even know this could happen, I mean, what kind of potion does this?!”

“A growth one,” Techno murmurs, finding ease at Dream’s dry huff after his attempt at a joke.

Techno places a hand to Dream’s pant leg, which startles him into shifting further away.

“Why’d you come here?” Techno asks after a moment.

Dream shrugs. “I don’t know. I figured Tommy wouldn’t be here, after…” Dream trails off, motioning vaguely with giant fingers to the remains of Logstedshire.

“Alright, Dream, you’re gonna put your hand to the ground,” Techno orders, waiting for the movement. He can’t do much, but he can try to soothe his friend.

The giant doesn’t move. 

“Dream.”

Dream sighs, putting his hand flat on the ground. 

“Ah, other way,” he corrects.

The giant flips his hand over. 

Techno finds an easy seat in it, to which Dream immediately tenses. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna’ make you less remorseful,” he murmurs, leaning into Dream’s fingers as he curls them up on nothing but instinct. 

He puts his hand against Dream’s skin. The giant flinches at the motion, almost launching Techno from his (rather comfortable) placement.

“You’re not gonna be hated by everyone,” Techno tries to reassure.

Abruptly, gravity shifts and he’s left hovering over Dream’s lap, who then shifts him into another hand. He’s left staring at two beady eyes carved into cracked and dusty porcelain.

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on making it permanent,” Dream says softly.

“We can make an antidote. At your supposed house, eh?” Techno nudges his elbow into Dream’s pinkie. 

“I have a house!” Dream says defensively, and Techno finds his job well done. 

He leans further into Dream’s grip, which he’s noticed it’s become more possessive, his thumbs angling carefully over Techno’s torso to keep him in place. 

Awkwardly, he raises a hand to the digit and squeezes it fondly. 

“You sure you wanna reverse this? Maybe you can scare Tommy back into exile,” he deadpans. Dream’s head shakes, gentle laughter erupting from somewhere behind the mask.

—–—

[xplrvibes]

I wish the fandom would treat both the boys better, I don't think I've ever seen a fandom supposedly love it's stars and yet they tear them apart quite to the same regard as they tear down Sam and Colby. I do fear it's about to get worse though due to backlash for Cody and Satori being fakes and people now beginning to think SnC are in on it all. (Which personally I think is bullshit, if SnC were in on it they'd be risking their whole career... Especially if it were true. They need their credibility to remain flawless if they want to keep having a career in ghost hunting).

The Cody and Satori thing is really only going to hit snc if anyone can actually prove they were in on any kind of (alleged) attempt to fake their knocking method.

Which I don't think anyone will ever be able to do, because I don't think snc would have any hand in something like this, not at this point in their careers.

I don't think they'd put their careers on the line to participate in something like this, I don't think they'd invite so many people to try and debunk it if they knew for a 100% fact that it was debunkable, and, most importantly - I don't think they'd use their deceased family members as a means to an end.

We know how close Colby is to his mother, and we know how private his family is and how much they "detest being on camera" (in Colby's own words). Anyone who really thinks he'd willingly use his mother's deceased mother to fake some content for views and that his mother would be fine with that, is someone who does not know the family dynamics at play here.

And Sam...yes, he's proven he's a good actor who can cry on cue in the past. But what happened in that video was not acting. The man was truly shook. And again - while his family seems a little more comfortable with being featured in his content, I doubt they'd be comfortable with Granny becoming a sideshow ghost character in an snc video.

There's no way they'd do this shit to their families. Their families aren't public figures and would not sign off on this. Full stop.

Now, there's always going to be detractors. Especially with snc, cause they have a really bad habit of over-exaggerrating things at time instead of being logical and debunking (remember that time Amanda's hair fell and they were like "omg did a ghost move her hair?"). But, as long as they never get caught straight up faking, their careers will not take a hit that they can't bounce back from.

If it turns out that Cody and Satori were faking, then snc just really need to come out and address that they were bamboozled just as much as everyone else, and they'll be ok.

[ae-neon]

Reading Throne of Glass (35-37)

Recap

Celaena has a puppy she likes and two allies in Nox Own best boy Pelor

Dorian opens up to Celaena and they are definitely much closer. He also saves a puppy for her.

Nehemia loses 500 of her people to a genocidal massacre.

I think Kaltain is a fly trapped in Duke Perrington's web despite her attempt to use him to get closer to Dorian.

Chapter 35

Chaol sad hours

The next evening, Chaol Westfall stood on the second floor of the castle, looking over the courtyard. Below him, two figures slowly wove through the hedges. Celaena’s white cloak made her easy to spot, and Dorian could always be noticed by the empty circle of space around him. He should be down there, a foot behind, watching them, making sure she didn’t seize Dorian and use him to escape. Logic and years of experience screamed at him to be with them, even though six guards trailed them. She was deceitful, cunning, vicious. But he couldn’t make his feet move.

He's getting really sad about how Celaena has lived, especially in comparison to him and Dorian.

Celaena thinks about how Nehemia has basically retreated and locked herself away in her rooms... Just gonna sigh.

(...) despite the three Tests she’d had, the most exciting of which being an obstacle course, which she passed with only a few minor scratches and bruises. Unfortunately, Pelor hadn’t done so well, and had been sent home at long last. But he’d been lucky: three other competitors had died.

1st of all, sjm is so boring for skipping 3 Tests. 2nd of all, PELOR IS JUST GONE??? in an off screen dismissal??? My boy 🥲

“You always wear that necklace,” he said. “Is it another gift?” Though she wore gloves, he glanced at her hand—where the amethyst ring always sat—and the spark died from his eyes. “No.” She covered the amulet with her hand. “I found it in my jewelry box and liked the look of it, you insufferably territorial man.”

Lolol doesn't sjm later make the territorial thing a Fae trait? Dorian was definitely supposed to be the endgame male lead.

He studied the necklace. “When I was a boy, I used to read tales about the dawn of Adarlan; Gavin was my hero. I must have read every legend regarding the war with Erawan.” How can he be that smart? He can’t have figured it out so quickly. She tried her best to look innocently interested. “And?” “Elena, First Queen of Adarlan, had a magical amulet. In the battle with the Dark Lord, Gavin and Elena found themselves defenseless against him. He was about to kill the princess when a spirit appeared and gave her the necklace. And when she put it on, Erawan couldn’t harm her. She saw the Dark Lord for what he was and called him by his true name. It surprised him so much that he became distracted, and Gavin slew him.” Dorian looked to the ground. “They called her necklace the Eye of Elena; it’s been lost for centuries.”

This just makes Erawan look lame.

Later Celaena discovers someone secretly drew a circle of wyrdmarks under her bed. She wonders if this means she's next to be murdered, scrubs them away and leaves for the library. Her guards stay in the main room but she goes to the back section where all the old occult books are and finds Nehemia there.

I knew it! WTF

Okay so she realises the book Nehemia is reading is written in the common tongue and questions it. Nehemia, in the common tongue with a flawless accent, tells "Lillian" she is as foolish as every other person in the castle.

She's literally a princess, why wouldn't she speak the language that most of the people on the continent did?? Especially the language of the superpower that's conquered most of it since she was a child?

I told yall

No, Nehemia couldn’t have played her like that— (...) Because Nehemia was her friend—because Nehemia had wept when her people had been murdered, because she’d come to her for comfort.

What the fuck does crying over the murder of her people have to do with pretending not to speak a language??

It's actually a clever trick. She doesn't have to talk to the people she hates and they in turn feel free to say what they usually wouldn't right in front of her.

Anyways now Celaena thinks it's Nehemia committing the murders.

Chapter 36

It's finally Yulemas. Only 5 competitors remain and the Final Test is coming up in 3 days and the Duel to find the Champion is only 2 days after that.

There was something inherently peaceful about the day, despite the darkness of her encounter with Nehemia. For the moment, the whole castle had quieted to hear the falling snow. Frost laced each windowpane, a fire already crackled in the fireplace, and shadows of snowflakes drifted across the floor. It was as peaceful and lovely a winter morning as she could imagine. She wouldn’t ruin it with thoughts of Nehemia, or of the duel, or of the ball she wasn’t allowed to attend tonight. No, it was Yulemas morning, and she would be happy.

I don't know anything about snowy, winter Christmases - ours are summery, party seasons - but this sounds nice.

Celaena finds a bag of candy with no note and despite everything that's happened doesn't hesitate to eat a whole bunch. As a fellow sweet-tooth, same. But once again this girl is nowhere near the greatest assassin and Pelor is up by 100 points because he could have killed her if he wanted to.

Celaena wonders who sent her the candy. She thinks Dorian. But certainly not Nehemia or Chaol and like okay yea maybe Nehemia is a little preoccupied with THE GENOCIDE OF HER PEOPLE but why wouldn't Chaol send her the candy??

Celaena gets ready to attend temple for Yulemas but finds Dorian waiting once she's dressed.

“Are you my present, or is there something in that basket at your feet?” she asked.

“If you’d like to unwrap me,” he said, lifting the large wicker basket onto the table, “we still have an hour until the temple service.”

He's literally Rhysand's blueprint, tell me I'm lying

Cute exchange over the candy - of course he sent it. He also gives her the puppy he saved for her as a present. a solid + 10 for Dorian

Again, it's a shame sjm lost the ability to write romance beyond physical attraction or magical bonding.

I was talking to my mutual and she said Nessian don't share any hobbies and I think that's true for many of sjm's endgame ships. But after I hated chapter 34 and hadn't thought of tog positively in days, I still immediately thought of Dorian and Celaena being an exception.

“She’s yours,” Dorian said, “if you want her.”

“What shall I do with her if I’m sent back to Endovier?”

wtf, that's such a heartbreaking question and the narrative spends no time on it at all.

“Of course I want her,” Celaena said, then realized what the implications would be. “But I want her trained. I don’t want her urinating on everything and chewing on furniture and shoes and books. And I want her to sit when I tell her to and lay down and roll over and whatever it is that dogs do. And I want her to run—run with the other dogs when they’re practicing. I want her to put those long legs to use.”

(...)

“When I’m training”—she kissed the pup’s soft head, and the dog nestled her cold nose against Celaena’s neck—“I want her in the kennels, training as well. When I return in the afternoon, she may be brought to me. I’ll keep her in the night.” Celaena held the dog at eye level. The dog kicked her legs in the air. “If you ruin any of my shoes,” she said to the pup, “I’ll turn you into a pair of slippers. Understood?"

this has nothing to do with the story, but this reminded me of an account of parental love or affection from the point of view of a woman with anti-personality disorder, or psychopathy.

anyways

Celaena kisses Dorian on the cheek, he gets nervous and chatty and almost falls over as he's leaving.

(...) Celaena was about to see what her new companion was up to when the thought struck her:

Nehemia would be at the ball.

It was a simple enough thought at first, but then worse thoughts followed it. Celaena began pacing. If Nehemia were truly somehow behind the Champions’ murders—and worse, had some feral beast at her command to destroy them—and also just learned about the massacre of her people . . . then what better place to punish Adarlan than at the ball, where so many of its royals would be celebrating and unguarded?

Is Nehemia the Amarantha blueprint?????????????

Fine, she wouldn’t mind if Kaltain and Perrington met horrible deaths, but Dorian would be there. And Chaol. FUCK YOU, KALTAIN HAS DONE LITERALLY NOTHING DESERVING OF THIS LEVEL OF HATERED WTF

all this just so sjm can have Celaena sneak into the Ball but it would have been so much better if she went just because she wanted to go

Chapter 37

Celaena attend the Yulemas service with Chaol

The temple was a beautiful space, built entirely from glass. i wonder if there's gonna be a point to these glass buildings

Two columns of about a hundred rosewood pews stretched beneath a vaulted glass ceiling that let in so much light that no candles were needed during the day. Snow lay piled upon the translucent roof, casting patterns of sunshine throughout. As the walls were also glass, the stained windows above the altar appeared to hover in midair.

Bro's villain origin story is he wanted to be an architect and was forced to become King instead.

SJM loves making female religious figures like mother Goddesses and priestesses but always fails to understand the implications of gender in power systems like religion and how that reflects on the greater society.

The High Priestess walked onto the stone platform and raised her hands above her head. The folds of her midnight-blue gossamer robe fell around her, and her white hair was long and unbound. An eight-pointed star was tattooed upon her brow in a shade of blue that matched her gown, its sharp lines extending to her hairline.

Since everything is connected I wonder if it's a coincidence Ianthe also wears blue and has moons on her head.(idk about Crescent City)

SJM has Celaena tired of the ceremony before the priestess gets through the first sentence, this doesn't convey the length and tedium of the ceremony, it just makes Celaena - in combination with trying to look over people to see Dorian and standing when she needs to sit - look childish and hyperactive, again probably not the traits best for an assassin.

Celaena wandered into the Land of Sleep. Excuse me? The capitalisation implies this is some sort of realm? Why have we never gotten any clues about that or did I miss something??

Apparently Chaol - Captain of the Royal Guard - also fell asleep in the back row with Celaena while Dorian and the Queen were in the front rows. Give me a hundred bucks, two dope addicts and a rabid raccoon, and I could kill the crown prince. Gimme a thousand bucks and Pelor, and I'd take out the whole castle.

Nine blindfolded children each representing a god, randomly pick members of the congregation to bestow that gad's favour on. Celaena gets the favour of Diana Deanna, Goddess of the Hunt and Maidens. Sudden Roman Mythology.

Farnor, God of War, stopped at the front row near Dorian, but then moved to the right, across the aisle, to give the miniature silver sword to Duke Perrington. Not surprising.

Why is it not surprising given its completely random? is Perrington That Guy™? Is he a known warrior? Is this foreshadowing his John Wick level skills?

***

Forgive the delay, I legit forgot I was reading this.

We're sitting at a low 3 stars. The little details are the only thing keeping me going, the overall story is ass.