#I do my replies this way because Tumblr has a history of not playing nice with me when it comes to replying to replies

[martinmuhl]

⋆✧˚ ༘ rivals? (part 1)

pair: kate martin x reader

warnings: cussing, just some tension (?)

summary: you and kate have been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough

authors note: hi hi this is my first fic!! ill definitely improve but i had so much fun writing this and if you want, i could potentially make a part two? i’m not sure how to work tumblr yet so im still figuring it out lol but leave requests and ill try to write some!! :) i hope you enjoy!

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“are you fucking kidding me?” kate spits at you as you’re guarding her. well, you were guarding her before you sent her flying to the ground. as she looks up at you and her teammates rush to her side, you roll your eyes.

“what’s the matter martin? can’t handle all this?” you shot back, stealing the ball away from her as your own teammates rush to you. your team is losing by 15 and you know there probably isn’t a chance you’d come back and win, but god did you hate kate martin and her smug ass.

you and kate had history. your high schools were rivals and everyone loved the rivalry between you two, so the both of you started to despise each other. but you both could also feel a different kind of tension too.

throughout the last few years when your college teams played, everyone always went crazy for the big rivalry between you and off the court, the both of you had to play nice in interviews. but on the court tonight felt different. you wanted her to feel the hatred you had towards her, but you also knew there was an unspoken tension and always hoped things would go further. little did you know, kate felt it as well.

your team ended up losing as you predicted as you headed back to the locker room when you heard someone shout your name. “y/n! you gonna talk to me or what?” you turn around and there she is, rushing up to you. the two of you stand in the middle of the hall, glancing around to make sure nobody was around to witness the animosity between you.

“you never want to talk after we play each other. what’s there to say now? good game? congrats? see you next game?” you reply, hands on your hips.

“what’s there to say? you shoved me to the ground. you’ve never done that before no matter how much you hate me.” she shot back, growing angrier.

“i was tired of looking at your smug face, knowing you were going to beat us. knowing you were going to beat me again..” you trail off, as this is yet another loss to the hawkeyes.

“god, you really hate me don’t you? because of what? our rivalry? that’s such bullshit. we’re both good players y/n and i’m done pretending to hate you.” she says, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her now empty locker room.

you were shocked. she was pretending this whole time? but you could feel it. when you made it inside the locker room, you turn to her, “pretending? that’s real funny martin. then what has this been for you the whole time? you like being an asshole to me for fun to get me all riled up huh?” you take a step closer to her, seething with rage. she’s acted like an ass towards you for years now? and it’s been fake this whole time?

kate takes a step closer as well, smiling. this pisses you off, but you can feel your heart hammering and a heat grow in your stomach and between your legs. “you know i’ve always liked when you call me by my last name. i’ve never told you that because i was afraid you’d stop. y/n, this rivalry between us makes me better, but it’s never made me hate you. i have to admit though, i think it’s hot you went out of your way to target me during the game tonight.”

hot? now you were aching with anger, intensity and longing. you for sure hate her in some ways, but not enough to make you not want to grab a hold of her braid, slam her against the wall and do unspeakable things to her. you don’t though. you just take a step back, stunned. “i… i don’t know what to say..” you say, those being the only words you can form.

kate strides toward you, your back against the wall now. she’s inches from your mouth when she leans down to your ear. “don’t say anything. i do like being an asshole towards you. it turns me on seeing you get so pissed at me, especially during a game.”

you’re about to push her away, thinking she’s done toying with you. how can you believe a word she says? she’s not done though as she says in a low tone, “and you know what? i can handle all this.” she nods her head, gesturing to your body. “and one day, i will.”

she backs up suddenly then, a smirk on her lips. your heart pounds, the throbbing between your legs increasing by the second.

“your bus is probably waiting for you. i’ll see you in a few weeks, y/n. make sure you save some of that hatred for me for after the game. i’ll show you just how much i can handle it.” she winks and then she’s out the door, leaving you alone in the iowa locker room.

for once in your life, you couldn’t wait to play kate and iowa again. kate martin went from your biggest enemy to your biggest need in only hours.

[kujo1597]

@limpulsive Thank you for the reply! It’s a such shame there isn’t a fanfic tag or an actually used general Tales tag either. :/ I thought there might be because there’s so many crossover games and people might use a general tag for crossover art. So I’m pretty surprised to hear those tags aren’t used too often. 

[porcelaintoybox23]

I think the funniest thing about fe3h is how much people hate these characters. The game has some serious writing issues, but even ignoring that, I still don’t understand the rage a lot of people have. I like Edelgard and Dimitri even though I side with El’s philosophy. I dislike Rhea the most but don’t hate her, she’s just fucking nuts. People will literally compare Edelgard to hitler, which is very inaccurate and also doing way too much. Seriously, the holocaust isn’t a light comparison to make toward anything. Be accurate at least. It’s not even a tumblr problem it’s everywhere, youtube, Reddit, etc. No side is totally right or wrong, but people will jump through hoops to bash/support someone.

Edelgard did some morally dubious things and better writing would’ve had someone call her out. Like I understand why, but the people she has around her are seriously messed up, though I understand that she has to play the field. People think that El should be able to enact continent wide change without war, but peaceful means have rarely worked throughout history. Maybe it could’ve been nice for the three house leaders to join up and strong arm Rhea into retiring and takedown TWSITD, but that’s a writing flaw. Like slavery didn’t end peacefully. Also, TWSITD has nukes. I don’t think El had that much power over them, clearly. A real discussion on Remire village would have been a great support.

Dimitri is a mass murderer who killed indiscriminately. Like everyone is, but I really didn’t want to kill those thieves. Still love him, but he was creeping me out. The blue lions are my babies the way the black eagles are, but it’s weird that Dimitri is okay with a lie being told to the populace. Sothis hasn’t been doing anything for like a millennia. That whole convo pre Enbarr was so bad. El could have been forthcoming with something, anything. Dimitri just seemed to be on the opposite side because.

The church is shady and built on multiple lies. Rhea has gone through some serious stuff but she has done and enabled a lot of harm. I understand her grief, but I don’t think it warrants a fake religion, upholding or at least not stopping the crest system, being able to execute people instead of the local rulers doing it, child soldiers, experimentation with the end goal of replacing the person with Sothis, and revising history. I don’t think Rhea is evil, she just doesn’t change anything? Or really just upholds crappy systems instead of grieving.

Edelgard is an imperialist, it’s the 12th century

I don’t know what hate has been thrown toward Dimitri, but the boy has schizophrenia and psychology doesn’t exist.

Haven’t played verdant wind yet, but I think “it’s the 12th century” is still a pretty good catch all excuse.

I admit bias here, I have nothing good to say about Rhea. Woman is creepy. I do like Cyril, Flayn, and Seteth though.

If these characters were perfect, there would be no story. They all have flaws and make mistakes. Each have a valid perspective, well maybe not Rhea

The only characters I can see people justifiably hating are Sylvain and Ingrid. A sexist, womanizing creep, whose depth doesn’t negate that, and a racist. (Okay, that’s just pure bias) Ingrid was really justifying genocide and basically called Dedue, “one of the good black people”

At the end of the day, this game is great for discussion, but these characters aren’t real. Like some heated debate is fun, but a lot of you seem to take this personally.

Edit: if you are replying to this post arguing for something, I do not care. None of these characters are uwu babies and it’s fine to disagree. That is the point of this post. I don’t care if you hate Edelgard and want Rhea to curb stomp you, or vice-versa, just stop insulting each other and making weird arguments.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Part II

Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Read on AO3 (Complete Work)

Thanks to @gingerbreadcookieforlife for letting me know i did not upload the entire work here.

Summary:  When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded. Or enemies to Lovers in high School.

Warnings: 18+; Enemies to Lovers;  Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU;  Violence; Fights;  Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.

Notes: This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.

//-//

Sometimes is just a kiss

The news that Steve Rogers and Tony Stark kissed behind the bleachers spread quickly through the school. And it was only 10 o'clock on a Monday morning.

You had no idea who had spread the rumor around the campus, but knowing your luck, you were just waiting for the bomb to drop in your lap.

Besides, you hadn't spoken to Wanda since you gave her an orgasm against the walls of a locker room. You saw her briefly in the hallway between history and biology class, but she looked away quickly, and you rolled your eyes without patience.

It had been good sex, and you repeated that it was just that. Sex. That it shouldn't have happened, mainly because you were incompatible, and there were too many social barriers between you.

You should have known that Wanda would not break the expectations they had of her, to stay as someone as broken as you.

Closing the locker with more force than necessary, you walked out toward the history room.

Taking your place in the last chair by the window, you sit down as you wait for the class to begin. You have about five minutes of peace before an angry Tony Stark enters the room and walks toward you pointing his finger in your face in a threatening manner.

- I told you to mind your own business.

- What have I done to deserve this, Lord. - You grumble without patience, ignoring Stark completely. He lets out an angry exclamation and punches the table, making you jump with surprise.

- You'll pay for this, bitch. I'm going to-

You cut off his speech by pulling his hair and forcing his head against the table in a blow that makes a loud noise. He staggers back, shocked that he has been hit again. The room erupts in a hubbub and someone holds Tony back to stop him from jumping on you.

You stand up, gathering your notebooks, seeing that the history teacher was already signaling for you to talk to the counselor.

- You never learn, Stark. - You sneer, taking one last look at the boy's bloody nose before you leave the room, most of your classmates laughing.

- I'm so angry with you right now. - said your mother as soon as you both left the school. You didn't respond, walking with your hands in your pockets to the car. She started mumbling to herself, and only when you had been in the car a few minutes did she speak to you again.

- And the worst of it is that you hit my boss's son!

You let out a wry laugh as you looked out the car window at the view.

- I doubt very much that Howard Stark knows any of his employees, Mother.

- It doesn't matter. - she retorted, turning the wheel. You watched the landscape change as you turned the corner.

- At least I didn't get expelled. - You commented, your mother let out a wry laugh.

- Suspension is not a good thing! - she replies in an irritated tone. - And I even had to miss my shift to come get you. I honestly didn't raise you for that.

- That's the point, isn't it? - You retorted angrily, finally turning to face your mother.  - Did you ever raise me? Last time I checked, I've been raising myself for a long time.

Your mother assumes a disapproving expression, denying it with her head. You throw yourself back on the seat with your arms crossed.

- You've always been so unfair, you know. - She begins. - Who's picking you up from school now, huh? And who puts a roof over your head? Food on your plate? You raised yourself, that's a joke.

She grumbles again, but you just ignore it, shutting yourself off from your surroundings.

You barely register when the car pulls up in front of your house, startled when your mother slams the car door as you get out. You take off your seat belt, and step out.

- You are grounded, three months. - she says, and you just nod. It's not as if she was present enough to know where you were going anyway. - And you are going to help your aunt in the store while you are suspended.

You let out a protesting grunt.

- Really, there's nothing worse for me to do? - You ask, throwing yourself on the sofa in the living room, your mother giggles.

- Weren't you the one who was thinking that suspension is better than expulsion? Well, you're not going to be sitting around this week. - She said as she left her purse on the kitchen table, and walked towards the small office table in the corner of the room. - Now go to your room, I'm working from home today.

You roll your eyes, getting up. Dragging your feet to your room, you slam the door as you enter, throwing yourself against your bed.

You hope Tony Stark's nose is hurting.

You are very surprised to see Natasha Romanoff enter your aunt's mercenary, shortly after school hours. She smiles at you with amusement, walking over to the counter.

- Wow, interesting look. - She jokes, commenting on the blue uniform combined with a sailor's hat that your aunt makes her three employees wear. You laugh at Nat.

- How can I help you, ma'am? - You asked in an amused tone, she leaned her arms on the counter.

- I'm looking for a fighting dog. Do you sell these here?

You laugh at the insinuation. And then a customer enters the store, Nat moves aside for you to attend to a lady buying tomato sauce and noodles, and then as you check out, she speaks again.

- You caused a fuss at school with your fight. - She remarks, and you just grumble, counting the money. - By the way, how did you find out about Rogers and Stark's secret affair?

You shrug, smiling. - I saw them kissing the night of the game. Stark freaked out, by the way, typical.

Nat laughed, and began to look around the store. - It is nice here. I didn't know you worked.

- It's my aunt's. - You say, finally finishing counting the money in the cash register. - And I worked at the junkyard on Avenue Two until last year.

- Aren't you going to tell me that you were fired for fighting? - Nat teased, making you laugh.

- No, I asked to quit. - So you say. - I wanted a quiet senior year.

Nat nods, and walks around the store, stopping at the magazine section. You see three more customers before she returns.

- I have to get home before my mother freaks out. - She announced as soon as she reached the counter. You nodded. - But I want to know if you want to do something with me?

- I thought you had a boyfriend. - You joked, and Nat rolled her eyes humorously.

- Don't be a smartass.

You laugh.

- I will be helping out in the store during this week. - You say. - Because of the suspension. I leave at seven.

Nat nodded, assuming a contemplative expression for a moment.

- Do you know where Avengers' Bar is? Three blocks past the municipal hospital?

You nod, smiling.

- Sure, Nat. - You say. - I've already driven past it.

- Why haven't you ever gone inside? I'm always there.

- I wasn't in that area to drink. - You remark with a suggestive smile, and Nat just laughs and rolls her eyes.

- Well, I'll be there on Wednesday. Some colleagues from State are playing there. - She says, and writes down a phone number on one of the papers on the counter. - Text me if you're going to show up.

- Are you sure it's not a date? - You joke and Nat just winks at you before you leave. You keep her number in your uniform pocket.

Even from outside, you could hear the music from the bar muffled against the windows.

Avengers's Bar was a popular place in town, but only for a certain kind of people. Mainly frequented by punks, bikers, and artists, it was exactly the kind of place you liked but should avoid. With its history of fights, it wasn't exactly the kind of place you went to anymore.

A dark-haired girl in metal-working attire smiled at you from the doorway, looking at you mischievously as you walked through the door. You just nodded slightly.

Inside, you looked around for Natasha and her friends, but with the amount of people in the bar, it wasn't so easy to find them.

- Y/N! - shouted Thor when he spotted you in the crowd. You smiled, walking over to where he was standing. - We're on the top floor, Nat got a table. Come on, I just came to get some drinks.

You followed him to the bar, and helped him carry the drinks for the others. You didn't recognize any of the drinks they were making there, so you decided to just drink from everyone's glass, which made Thor laugh.

- Look who I found. - announced Thor as soon as you two arrived at the table. The group smiled when they saw you, and you greeted everyone with a kiss on the cheek and sat down next to Nat.

- We heard that you were suspended. - commented Clint, but he seemed almost proud. You shrugged awkwardly.

- She wasn't content to just punch Stark, she also slammed the bastard's head against the table! - Said Natasha excitedly, and the group laughed. You laughed half embarrassed, as you took a sip of the pink drink Nat had ordered.

They started talking about some scandal that happened at the federal school, and you did your best to react to it, not really knowing who the people they were talking about were. And then Valkyrie let out an exclamation, as if she had spotted someone, and stood up. A very pretty girl approached, smiling and hugging Valkyrie.

- I'm glad you could make it, Carol. - Valkyrie said the girl who waved to everyone. When you looked closely, you finally recognized her. Carol Danvers was an ex-student of your high school, having graduated last year. She used to be very popular, and you noticed the military silver necklace around her neck.

Carol sat down next to Valkyrie, and the two of them seemed so close that you thought maybe they were dating.

When the show started, everyone exclaimed with excitement, quickly getting up and walking to the stage area. You smiled as Nat dragged you by the hand, liking the feeling of having friends.

The band was surprisingly good, and you danced with excitement, feeling the alcohol make you lively and loose. You were surprised when Carol began to dance with you, her hands on your waist.

She was very attractive, so you didn't mind her kissing you. And you pushed away the feeling that she wasn't the person you wanted. When she pulled you into the bathroom, her hands roaming over you as she tugged off your clothes, you ignored every part of your body screaming that this was wrong. When she made you cum, you bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming Wanda's name.

Your suspension was finally over, and you gave the key to the store back to your aunt before you went to school.

You tried not to think about it too much, about how many college opportunities you had missed with that stain on your record. But if you were honest, you didn't even know if you wanted to go to college anymore. Every day the possibility of buying a motorcycle and traveling aimlessly getting closer to your real calling.

Many people stared at you when you arrived at school. The vast majority didn't even bother to look away. You rolled your eyes impatiently, reaching into your jacket pockets as you walked through the main doors.

You were slightly startled when Jessica Jones approached you in your locker, but you smiled awkwardly, taking off your headphones.

- Girl, you are a legend! - she said excitedly, pushing you lightly by the shoulders against the lockers. She stood close, and you thought maybe that was flirting. - By the way, I didn't have your number to text you.

She took a pen from her bag, and grabbed your hand, writing down her own number while flashing you a mischievous smile.

- Text me, let's do something this week. - She says as she lets go of your hand. You blink slightly, and nod, a little awkwardly. Jessica doesn't seem to notice, and smiles, leaving afterwards.

You hear a whistle, and Nat looks at you with curiosity.

- You are stealing hearts, huh. - She teases, and you feel your face heat up, still surprised by the whole interaction. - By the way, are you and Carol on a real thing?

- What? - you ask in surprise. - No, I don't think so. It was just sex in a concert restroom, Natasha. I don't think she even knew my name. - You remark as you turn toward the redhead. She laughs, finishing putting her books away.

- Actually she asked me for your number. - She says, and you look at her in surprise. - But then I see you with Jones, and I have to admit, it's a tough choice. - Nat teases, making you laugh. You start walking down the hall together, walking towards the classrooms. You think Nat has said something about the show, but your attention is elsewhere. As you walk past Wanda and Peter Maximoff, everything seems to slow down, you notice the slight flush on Wanda's cheeks when her gaze meets yours, and you both hold your breath as you walk past each other. But the next second everything is as it was before, and you sigh, focusing your attention on Nat.

When you arrive in the literature room, you are happy to know that Nat sits next to you.

You hate the cafeterias. So when Nat invites you to join her at the outside tables you think it's the best lunch you have ever had.

The outside courtyard is relatively less crowded than the other places in the school, and you are in the middle of a discussion about the new TV series that launched over the weekend, when Nat signals to something behind you.

Coming out of the school, and heading towards the table where you were standing, was Sharon Carter, accompanied by her pet friend, Pepper Potts. And you really thought you could have a quiet lunch.

- To what do I owe the honor, Carter? - you asked ironically as they reached your table.

- You stay away from my boyfriend. - She spoke in a serious tone, and before you could say anything, she tipped the glass of soda she held over your head.

You felt your whole body boil with irritation and you stood up abruptly, seeing red. But Natasha tugged on your forearm, whispering something about your suspension. Sharon and Pepper seemed to be slightly startled by your posture, but they let out a wry chuckle and went back inside the school.

You tugged on Nat's arm, then left the courtyard and headed for the changing rooms. You needed a cold shower to calm yourself down, or you would do something that would surely cause your expulsion.

Since the athletic games period had not yet started, the gym locker room was empty. You sighed with relief as you found your spare change of clothes in your locker.

Walking toward the bathroom stalls, you quickly undressed, and stepped into the shower, letting the cold water wash all the soda and anger from your body.

Leaning your head against the wall, you let out a sigh, thinking about all the shit that was going on in your life in less than two weeks. And then your mind went back to Wanda, and you let out a breathless groan, laughing humorlessly. The cold water didn't help to chill the new heat that settled under your stomach. You turned off the shower, then stepped out to put on your clothes.

On your way out of the locker room, you saw something you would rather not have seen. The universe seemed to be testing your anger today.

Wanda was being pressed against the wall of the indoor bleachers, which at that time was empty and perfect for those who wanted to make out in a secluded spot. It was a tall boy, but you couldn't see his face, which was buried in Wanda's neck, kissing her. And then she opened her eyes, and looked straight at you. You saw him pull down his pants and enter her, and she moaned with her mouth ajar, without taking her eyes off you. She had a gleam in her eyes that made your whole body tremble.

You gripped the strap of your purse tightly, controlling the impulse to go over and beat the boy until he passed out, and spun on your feet, walking out the back door.

Fucking day, you thought as you walked back to school.

Eventually, you thanked Nat for keeping you from hitting Sharon. She shrugged, saying that she didn't want you to be expelled now that you were becoming friends, and you tried not to be too happy about it.

On Wednesday, Carol Danvers showed up at the door of the school on a motorcycle. This is sure to be a long-lasting gossip, you thought as you and Nat greeted her on the way out. Several students looked at you, many of them impressed by Carol's motorcycle, others impressed to see her back at school, but the vast majority trying to ask how you knew her.

- What's up, Danvers? - You say to her with a slight nod. Carol looks at you as if she wants to undress you right there, but you have your gaze on her motorcycle, attentive to the details of the vehicle.

- Hey, pretty girl. - She answers while leaning against the vehicle.

- Jesus, you are not even seeing me. - Nat teases and Carol just laughs, giving her a kiss on the cheek. - Tell me, what brings you back to your beloved school?

- I came to say hello. - says Carol. - And to invite you both to a concert on Saturday.

- And you didn't text me because you missed me. - Nat rebuts in a provocative tone, Carol smiles, and then looks at you, before confirming. You don't really know what to say.

- If the music is good, I'm in. - You joke and Nat agrees. Carol takes two tickets out of her pocket and hands them to you.

- I'll pick you up, okay? - She offers it to you. You think about refusing, without really knowing why. But you nod in agreement before you can think about it too much.

- Okay, lovebirds. I'll leave you two alone because I'm starting to get the urge to puke. - Nat jokes one last time, before heading out toward the parking lot. You imagine that she will use the break time to smoke a bit.

You shift your weight between your feet before turning your gaze back to Carol.

- I was surprised to hear that you asked Nat for my number. - You comment, and Carol smiles.

- I like to talk to pretty girls. - She says, and you roll your eyes humorously at the flirtation. She laughs, biting her lips, and you allow her to rest her hands on your waist, perhaps too low.

- Are you looking for something serious, Danvers? - you ask with a slight irony. Carol looks at you in mild surprise.

- You don't think it has anything to do with me, do you?

- Sorry, the motorcycle and the leather jacket gave you away. - You respond humorously. - I get it, because it's my game.

Carol laughs.

- I'm enjoying our time together. - she confesses. - But I'll be back at the station in a few weeks. I can't make any promises.

You nod, without really being bothered by it. Carol is not the one you wanted to be with. And to push those thoughts away, you kiss her. She smiles, deepening the kiss slightly. You think she squeezed your ass, but you're not really paying attention.

And then you break apart, and she smiles at you.

- I'll see you Saturday, right? - she asks, and you nod, letting her kiss you one last time.

When she finally starts the motorcycle and drives away, you notice the mischievous and suggestive looks you receive.

And you try not to let your anger peak, but then you notice Stark's group in the corner of the school, laughing openly. You'll need to walk past them to get inside, and you really hope that none of them will test your patience.

- Hey weirdo, who was your girlfriend? - shouts Tony Stark. You know, you really think maybe he is brain damaged. His friends laugh at the joke, and you think you will ignore it, but then he shouts again. - I'm talking to you, dyke!

He throws something at you, missing you by inches. You watch the red liquid run down in front of your feet.

You think, this is it. This is how I'm going to get expelled. By sticking a straw in Tony Stark's eye. You wondered if prison life was worth it.

But then the laughter died down in the next second, and you watched Tony turn pale.

- Mr. Stark, please come with me. - A male voice sounded behind you. The school principal was a scary man, and he was hardly ever seen outside his classroom. He never witnessed his students' conflicts, and Fury never bothered him with such matters. Tony's paleness was understandable.

- P-Professor Thanos, I don't...

- Now. - says the man finally, and Tony stiffens his jaw as he follows him. He gave you an angry look before leaving.

The buzz started as soon as they entered the school, but you didn't really pay attention to anyone. Ignoring the middle finger Steve Rogers threw at you, you went back inside the school.

Tony Stark was punished with detention. You rolled your eyes when the rumor reached you. They had also said that his father refused to pick him up and that the driver was the one who talked to Fury. You would have sympathy for Stark if he wasn't a complete imbecile.

You had chemistry again, and you really weren't in the mood to see Wanda, but you had no choice.

And then Professor Agatha was feeling particularly inspired today, and decided to switch lab partners. You ended up on the same bench as Darcy Lewis and Pietro Maximoff, you being the only trio due to the odd number of students. You sighed against your bad luck.

The experiment that Mrs. Harkness performed was not difficult, but it could be dangerous if you didn't pay attention. So you just listened to Darcy's instructions, and everything was working out fine. Then Pietro Maximoff decided that his attention was better placed on a girl sitting behind him, and started flirting. Darcy rolled her eyes, smiling at you.

In the blink of an eye, you heard a scream of pain. Pietro had forgotten the limits of the counter itself, and stretching his arms most likely to impress the girl behind you, he slammed his hand against the chemical glass jar behind him. Darcy stepped back to avoid being hit, but you were quick to help Pietro, pulling his arm into the sink on the counter, turning on the faucet as you hurried to get as much of the acidic liquid off his skin as possible.

Pietro sighed with relief, probably feeling the pain disappear as you rubbed the soap into his skin. He was extremely surprised, as was the rest of the room.

- Very efficient reaction, Miss Y/L/N. - commented Ms. Harkness as she approached you, holding a cloth to dry Pietro. - I'll add an extra point to your average for that. Mr. Maximoff, please go to the infirmary.

Pietro wrapped the cloth around his injured hand, and looked at you with a mixture of hesitation and confusion in his eyes, but he nodded in thanks.

Harkness asked someone to call the janitor to clean up the shards, and then continued the class. You found it hard to concentrate when you noticed Wanda's gaze on you.

Jessica Jones kisses you against the wall of the second floor locker room.

You exchanged a few messages, mostly innocent jokes. And then Jessica said she had something amazing to show you, and when you met her after third period, in the not-so-isolated locker room, she pushed you up against the wall and kissed you on the mouth.

Jessica tasted like coke and something sweet, and she likes to bite.You had to remind yourself that you were kissing someone while you were doing it, not feeling connected to her really.

And then two girls came into the bathroom giggling and she let you go.

- Sorry for the scare. - She joked, her lips swollen. You shrugged, smiling slightly.

- What inspired you to do this? - you teased, putting your hands on her waist.

- You of course. Punching assholes and saving people. It's hot. - She says and then she checks her cell phone. - Damn, I have chemistry now. I can't be late.

She steals a kiss from you and quickly leaves. You blink, not really understanding what has happened.

As you go downstairs, you realize that the cheerleading squad is coming out of the locker room, and Sharon and Potts give you a death stare as you walk past them. And then, as you pass through the door to the women's dressing room, you hesitate. All your logic tells you to go on your way, but then your feet are turning and you walk into the dressing room, looking around.

You let out a sigh as you find who you were looking for. Wanda is changing clothes, wearing only her cheer skirt, and a bra. Your intimacy pulsates with the image. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation at seeing you there, but then she lets out a mischievous smile, and continues undressing.

Slowly, she lets the skirt slide down her thighs. You bite your lower lip hard as it falls to the floor.

And then two other cheerleaders come out of one of the aisles behind you, and the giggles die down when they see you. One of the girls turns to Wanda:

- Is this girl bothering you, Wandy? - she asks in a honeyed voice.

- And what are you, a watchdog? - You retort before Wanda can answer. The girl gives you a death glare. - Mind your own business, nosy.

The other girl approaches you, looking at you with disdain. - We don't like street trash here. Why don't you go back to your junkyard?

You swallowed dryly, trying to control your anger. The smaller girl giggled, and you looked at Wanda, who looked in shock, before you stormed out of the dressing room slamming the door.

You knew you shouldn't do that, but your feet dragged you out into the field of trailers.

You walked a long way until you arrived. And when you entered the courtyards, many of the residents looked at you with a frown. But you ignore them, as you walk between the houses. You knock hard on the door of one of the trailers farthest away. It takes a moment before a tall, muscular boy answers it.

He lets out a wry laugh when he sees you.

- Visiting old friends? - He teases, you don't smile.

- I need to break something, Erik. - You say simply, and he sighs. And then he closes the door, and you walk together in the opposite direction, out of the trailer park.

You have known Erik Killmonger since kindergarten. His life wasn't exactly the easiest. You used to hang out together in high school, but then Erik started getting into a lot of fights, and it was rumored that he joined a gang. He didn't tell you anything, and when you asked, he told you to mind your own business. And then, in the second year, he was expelled for breaking the jaw of Johann Schmidt, one of the seniors at the school. You remember never seeing Erik so angry. But you never knew the reason for the fight. And then he drifted away, and even though you missed him, you didn't push him.

- Here it is. - Erik said as you reached an abandoned area a few feet beyond the trailers. He handed you a wooden stick, and you took a deep breath before you started smashing through the abandoned objects there, most of them junk.

- Fuck that fucking school. - You shouted as you hit a bottle, the glass splattering through the air. Erik just stood at a safe distance, his hands in his pockets. - Fuck Tony Stark. - You shouted, a wooden box shattering with the blow of your bat. And then you noticed a tall dead tree trunk a few yards away, and you stepped forward, aggressively slamming your bat several times against the tree. - Fuck Wanda Maximoff. - And the staff shattered with the force of your blow. You let out a sigh, throwing the object to the ground, as you sat down down on the grass.

Erik walked over to you, and he said nothing about the tears streaming down your face.

- Do you want to talk about it? - he asked as he sat down beside you. You nodded in denial.

- I want you to tell me something about yourself. - You said, wiping your face.

- Um, let me think. - He says, putting his arms behind him and leaning back, he looks relaxed. - My mother is in town.

You turn your head to him in surprise. He smiles.

- Yes, I know, that's nice. - He comments. - But I won't get my hopes up. She could leave at any moment.

- I hope she stays. - You say.

- So do I.

You stand there in silence for a moment, then Erik stands up, then offers his hand to help you stand. You sigh and accept.

- Let's get something to eat, you're paying. - He says, causing you to smile ironically.

You end up at one of the dinner stands across the main road from the trailer park. You buy Erik a hamburger and fries, but you decide to just have a milkshake.

- This is all about a girl, isn't it? - he asks after a while, and you almost deny it. But you just shrug your shoulders in agreement, taking a sip of your milkshake. - Is it someone I know?

- Maybe. - you say, and Erik frowns humorously. He eats some chips, assuming a thoughtful expression.

- That's hard, I've never seen you paying attention to anyone at school. - he says. - What about that redheaded girl in the locker next to yours?

You laugh and nod your head in denial. Erik smiles, thinking again.

- What about that girl in your chemistry class? The one you said was smart?

- Darcy? - You ask and he confirms, you just smile. - No, I wish. Darcy would be less complicated.

Erik laughs, and then pushes the rest of the potatoes to you.

- Why don't you just tell me? - he asks, but his tone is not accusatory, just provocative.

- Because I don't want to admit it. - You confess, accepting the potatoes. It takes a moment, and then you speak. - I think I'm falling in love with Wanda Maximoff.

You don't look at Erik, fearing his reaction. But then he lets out a sigh, and drags his hand across the table, offering it to you. You accept, and he holds your hand warmly.

- You, my friend, are totally screwed. - He teases, making you laugh. - But keep calm. Passions go away as fast as they come.

You nod, squeezing his hand before letting go. You eat in silence, and you can't help but think how much you missed him.

Debates test your patience. And as if that weren't irritating enough, you still share this class with Wanda.

You don't look at her when you enter the room, but you feel her gaze on you. Throwing yourself on the last chair in the room, you stand with your headphones on and sink your head into your arms on the desk, wishing for the school year to end soon.

When Professor Hill enters the room, you are surprised that one of your classmates nudges you to warn you, and you smile in appreciation as you straighten your posture and put your cell phone away.

- I hope you have read the book I asked for, children. - She announces as she puts her bag on the table, and walks to the front of the cabinet, leaning against the wood as she looks around the room. - We will discuss it in class today.

The room lets out a chorus of displeasure, but the teacher lets out a chuckle. Her debates were famous for ending up in heated discussions, plus they made up about fifty percent of the grade. If you didn't say anything, you had to write a report of the discussions.

The teacher took a copy of the book from her purse, and held it with both hands.

- "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man, possessing a good fortune, must be in need of a wife." - She read, walking around the room.  - Who can tell me what the line implies about women?

- It's the old-fashioned way of saying that women prefer rich guys. - Steve Rogers sneered, drawing giggles from his teammates in the room. Mrs. Hill, however, just sighed with disappointment.

- No, Mr. Rogers. - she said, cutting off the laughter immediately. - If you have no intention of participating seriously in the debate, I suggest you remain silent.

Steve let out a lame laugh, shrugged, and whispered something to his tablemate. You rolled your eyes impatiently, resting your face in your hand. And then you watched Wanda Maximoff raise her arm up.

- Yes, Wanda? - nodded Mrs. Hill waiting for the answer.

- I think it's about a reaffirmation of the status of the man. As if the woman is a trophy to prove his status and position. - She says. - It objectifies women completely.

You blinked, slightly impressed. Wanda was always smart, after all. But then the boys in class giggled, and the redhead seemed to shrug her shoulders. Professor Hill, however, smiled at her.

- Interesting position, Miss Maximoff. - she said, and walked back around the room. - Let's talk a little about the main romance of the book. - She says, and looks reproachfully quickly at two boys who are whispering, and they fall silent. - I'd like to know what you think about Elizabeth and Darcy's relationship, and how we can bring the book's issues into our current society. Do you believe that the same prejudices are faced today?

The room explodes into excitement, and you feel like going home. Mrs. Hill looks around, and waves to calm the students.

- Please, class. Raise your hand who believes that Elizabeth and Darcy would easily marry today?

The vast majority of the students raise their hands. And someone makes a comment that they would get laid on the first date, and many laugh. You play with your pencil, twirling it on your finger, and then feel a light elbow on your arm. Your classmate nods her head forward, and you blink in confusion, realizing that Ms. Hill has called your attention.

- I'm sorry, Mrs. Hill. What is it? - you ask, straightening your posture. She smiles tenderly.

- I asked why you didn't raise your hand. - She repeats. - Could you share with the class your position?

You let out a sigh, thinking about it. And then you lean back in your chair, putting your hands in your pockets, and trying not to get intimate with the stares in the room.

- I really don't understand how everyone here can say that we no longer have social rules for relationships. - You say. - If Darcy and Elizabeth were from the present day, the prejudices portrayed in the books would only be different, but they would still be there. We have many ways of forbidding people to relate to each other, even in this school.

- Interesting. Please continue. - the teacher said, leaning back against her desk. You let out a sigh, trying to organize your opinion into words.

- I can give an example of how we divide the social groups around here. - you say. - It's not like the jocks are seen hanging out with the kids in the theater. Elizabeth would definitely be one of the smart girls, and Darcy would be the dumb brat. Sort of like a Tony Stark.

The room erupted in giggles, and you watched Steve Rogers lock his jaw, commenting something to his classmate. Professor Hill gave you a warning look, beckoning the class to be quiet.

- So you believe that Darcy and Elizabeth would not be together in the present days? - she asks you, and you shrug.

- I don't think Darcy would break the expectations people have of him for Elizabeth. - You state. - And besides, she can do better than that.

Some students laughed at your comment, and Mrs. Hill smiled at you. And then she asked if anyone had a different opinion, and you were slightly surprised to see Wanda raise her hand again.

- I think they would end up together. - She says. - They are really in love, and just like in the book, I think Darcy just needs time to understand everything, and to build up some courage.

- And Elizabeth should expect him to have some guts, then? - You cut Wanda off. The room looks at you in surprise, and Wanda turns in her chair, a look of mixed defiance and surprise, but you don't back away. - While he decides whether she is worth it, should she just wait around?

- Elizabeth needs to understand that Darcy also has his own issues. - Wanda retorts. - That it's not easy to let go of all the expectations people place on you.

You laugh lightly with irony.

- Of course Darcy would be quite comfortable keeping Elizabeth waiting. - You say with mild irritation. - Besides, Elizabeth is also going through a lot. She deserves to have someone who chooses her.

- That's not what we're arguing about. - Wanda replies. - No one is questioning Elizabeth's worth. I'm saying that they would be together, but that they need time.

- And I'm saying that Darcy has to stop being such a gutless pussy and make a decision soon. Elizabeth is not going to pause her life just to wait for him.

- She would do that if she really liked Darcy. - Retorts the redhead, you blink in disbelief.

You think the room held its breath with your debate with Wanda, and you would have continued if the teacher hadn't interrupted.

- Okay, I think we're getting a little nervous. - She cut in, and you blinked awkwardly, stopping to look at Wanda. The room murmured quietly again as Wanda turned back to face the front. - Thank you for your opinions, ladies. Now let's move on, who can offer a reflection on marriage in the book?

The class continued for a while, but you completely disconnected. Your heart was racing and you realized that the discussion you had was not about Darcy or Elizabeth. Wanda was asking you to wait for her. And you felt a strong urge to punch something. And then you focused your attention completely on the literature report, ignoring the debate completely.

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 15 ~Etched On Wood~

Previously in The Element of Surprise

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed. 

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?" 

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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  Claire stood in the quaint wonderland of whisky, gin and assorted spirits, also known as The Island Spirit Whisky Shop. One side of the store was given over to the whiskies, while numerous craft gins and spiced rums were on the other. Absently, she touched one of the bottles of liquid gold, mentally calculating how many bottles she could fit in her small luggage to bring back as presents. When she heard laughter, she glanced up to find Annalise sampling a dram with the owner, effectively ending her dithering and opting to grab just a bottle of single malt in front of her instead. They'd just arrived in Stornaway over an hour ago and decided to put her gift shopping spree on hold .

Annalise raised a whisky glass and winked. "You better start getting busy. Our driver isn't going to hang around and wait for us all day. Found anything you like?"

Claire approached her friend and showed the bottle. "Aberfeldy, sixteen years old. For us tonight."

"Very nice. Glad to see you warming up to this trip for a change. How long has it been since you last checked your phone for Jamie's message?" 

"Five minutes," she replied, scrunching her nose at Annalise for bringing up the sore subject. She handed the bottle and her credit card to the shop owner before facing her friend. "I've sent Jamie a message, and he hasn't replied yet. He's got some explaining to do ...sending me away like this with too little notice." She let out an unladylike grunt. "Why can't our men be here? We're in a beautiful location ...romantic even ..." She waved a hand in the air to prove a point. "I don't understand why you're not so bothered not spending time with your boyfriend when you rarely see him, and you're only here until Monday."

"Oh, poor us girls! Without our men! God help us!"

Claire fought a smile. "Hey, now, if I recall correctly, I had to listen to you moan endlessly about not seeing Willie enough. What was that again, you said just a week ago over the phone?" She tapped her chin and pretended to go through her memory bank. "You can't stand living without him."

"Correction, missy. I told you I couldn't stand living on my own in London. Which means I'm not used to not having you around."

"Ah, my mistake. Must have misheard that part." Annalise snorted a laugh and went to grab a bottle of gin from the shelf, leaving Claire once again to thoughts of Jamie. Any day now, John would summon her back to London, probably with Mary Hawkins and Tom Christie in tow. Though she dreaded going back, she'd placated those thoughts by telling herself she'd be moving to the Highlands soon. 

Despite the valuable inroads to their relationship, Claire wondered if she would have given up London and her job so soon, supposing that Jamie hadn't had PTSD. Would their relationship have moved this fast? She immediately quelled that thought because deep down, she knew in her heart whatever their circumstances might have been, they would have chosen to be together whether it was too soon or not.

She glanced once more at her phone, inwardly debating whether to call Jamie or not. What the hell is he up to? She hadn't heard a peep from him since she'd left the cottage. Something was definitely up, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"So, this work of yours is moving along fast. I bet you can't wait to start your life in the Highlands with your love, no less. So, what's the plan? Are you and Jamie buying a bigger property together, or will you be staying in the cottage to see how the relationship pans out?" 

"His cottage for now. As for what lies ahead, we haven't talked about that far into the future yet."

"Quite right. Future planning is tedious, anyway. It's pretty obvious you and Jamie are meant to be together, no matter what. I saw it coming from a mile away. The way he looks at you ...you can literally see smoke coming out of his ears." Annalise comically waggled her eyebrows as she eyed the other sample bottles on the counter.

"Well, since we're talking about the future and wotnots," Claire began, lowering her voice, "I have been doing a lot of thinking myself. For starters, I want to have Jamie's babies one day." 

Annalise's eyes widened. 

She frowned. "Wot?"

"Babies?"

"Yes, babies." When Annalise continued to stare at her, Claire groaned. "Not now, though, silly! Our relationship might be going at full speed, but God ...I have other plans in mind before that happens."

"Yes, I get that ...but ...but have you and Jamie talked about babies?"

Claire gave the store owner an apologetic smile and pulled Annalise into the alcove by the window. "No. As I said, we haven't talked anything about the future. What's wrong with you? I know it's too early to be talking about babies, but everyone knows where our relationship is heading to. Eventually, somewhere down the line, starting a family would be the next step. Or did you think my move to the Highlands is experimental?"

"No! Of course not! It's not that ... it's..."

"It's wot?"

"I, ah ...the babies part."

"Jesus, Annalise, what's your fret about babies?"

"There's no fret!"

"What is it then?"

"I, ... I'm not sure if I should be the one telling you this, but ..."

"Tell me wot?"

"I thought you knew because why else would Jamie ..."

"Know what? For God's sake, spit it all out! It quite apparent you know something."

Annalise shook her head and sighed. "It's something Willie told me. It was right after when Jamie started to remember bits and pieces about his past. Willie thinks Jamie may have been deeply affected by what he'd learned. You know ...him witnessing your parents' death and you becoming an orphan at such a young age." She puffed out a breath. "Jamie confided to his brother that ...he doesn't want to have children because he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it if they would go through something as horrible as what you've both been through. I know that's not really Jamie talking, and I understand those fears are coming from a place brought about by his condition. Maybe it's something both of you should talk about. I thought Jamie might have already mentioned it."

Claire paused for a few heartbeats, absorbing Annalise's words. Should I be worried? A part of her knew it was his PTSD symptoms amplifying those fears in Jamie's head. The other part, she wasn't too sure. But he'd made so much progress, she thought. She waved a hand in dismissal and let out a humourless laugh. "Oh ... don't worry about it. I'm pretty sure Jamie didn't mean to say that in its entirety. You know how men are like ...they tend to have reservations about children and stuff like that in the beginning. Besides, he understands how his condition affects his reasoning, decisions and emotions. He's very aware of that. He told me so. So him saying not wanting to have children is not a projection of what's truly in his heart." She gave her friend a reassuring smile even though a smidge of uncertainty was starting to creep in. "Jamie and I are in love," she said with all the conviction she could muster. "And we've proven that with love, we can achieve anything. As for his current views about not having children, they will eventually change. After what he's been through, it's understandable he'd be worried about history repeating itself. He's slowly but surely recovering, and as soon as the new therapist arrives, it can only get better from there. I'm quite sure of it"

"Claire ..."

"There's nothing to worry about," she said firmly this time. 

Annalise grabbed her hand. "Claire ...I have no doubt that he loves you. Even a blind man can see that. But think about this. What if ...what if he can't give you what you want? I mean babies. That's what you want one day, isn't it?" When Claire nodded, she continued. "You should talk to Jamie about your dreams of having children one day before moving here to Scotland. I don't want you to invest your time and emotion in a relationship that will probably end in regrets. I like Jamie, and I love you, and I love the love you have for each other. But I don't want to see the both of you hurt ...just because you failed to see each other eye to eye. Please promise me you'll talk about this with Jamie before turning your life upside down and moving here to Scotland and start playing house. There's a lot at stake here, Claire. Please, just talk to him. At least you know if you're both on the same page or not."

"Fine. I'll talk to Jamie. But under one condition." Annalise nodded in response. "If we're going to have this break together, promise me to refrain from any more baby talks."

"You started it."

Claire sighed. "Yes, I did," she admitted. "But it ends now."

"Alright, but I'm only going to say one more thing and then we can go back to holiday mode." Annalise made a broad gesture. "I can see that our little talk rattled you a bit. And don't you dare deny it!" When Claire shrugged and made a gesture to carry on, she proceeded. "I just want you to know, despite the uncertainties you may be harbouring right now, ...thanks to my big mouth, nothing changes the fact that Jamie loves you. I'm sure after you've talked, you'll arrive at some compromise about this baby thingy."

Despite herself, Claire laughed out loud and rolled her eyes. "Holy hell, we sure are a bizarre duo, aren't we? Poor Jamie. Here we are talking about babies when he probably hasn't even thought about marriage. If he could hear us talk right now, he'll probably put me on the next flight to London."

Annalise looked at her sheepishly. "Or perhaps not. Shall we get going?"

She raised a dubious eyebrow at her friend. "Hey. What's that look for?" 

Annalise wandered back to the check-out counter, laughing. "That was my wise, venerable sage look. You like?"

"No, knock it bloody off!"

..........

Jamie pressed the cold pack against his throbbing eye and tried unsuccessfully to tamp down his irritation at Quentin. Stood in the cottage's open space lounge, which comprised the kitchen and dining area, he turned away to face one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. For the first time, he noticed the stunning vistas before him. Looking out to the south, there's the view of the village and valley, and the west the vast, beautiful beach, and to the north, the rolling hills. Under normal circumstances, he would have enjoyed the sceneries, but the crunching sound of Quentin's meat mallet on walnuts might as well have been a tree stump grinder splintering his skull.

"Do ye mind?" Jamie muttered, turning around to glower at Claire's uncle. "That godawful sound is making my headache worse." 

"Stop whingeing." Quentin didn't bother to glance up from the chopping board on which he seemed resolved to make continuous head-splitting rackets. "Because of you, I haven't eaten all day. What kind of boys' trip is this anyway? There's no food or booze except for the bottle of expensive champagne... these walnuts ...and that ..." He jutted his chin at the fruit basket and shook his head in disgust. "Sorry I can't accommodate your headache." He watched the walnut shell fly across the counter when his mallet hit the chopping board. "As for the black eye, I'm sorry about that too."

Willie chuckled from behind his open newspaper as he lifted his feet to rest them on the coffee table. "Everyone will now think Claire dropped one on ye. How did it happen again? I didnae quite catch the whole story since both of ye were too busy grumbling at one another when I arrived."

Jamie glared with one eye. "As ye've already gathered, Quentin did this." He pointed his index finger at the evidence and adjusted the cold pack with a free hand. "And I cannae for the life of me understand why it was supposed to be a good thing."

"I told you already ...we had a bit of miscommunication," Quentin shot.

"Miscommunication?" Jamie sputtered, throwing a hand in the air in disbelief. He spun around and faced Willie. "I said to him if I start having one of my panic attacks on the ferry..."

"...you wanted to be knocked out," Quentin interjected.  

"Jesus Christ! I never said that, and I wasnae having a panic attack. I was feeling queasy."

"Yes, so queasy he turned green," Quentin added, hammering the walnut with more force this time, making Jamie flinch at the offensive sound. "And here I thought he was having a panic attack. He never mentioned anything about being prone to seasickness. So when he started to act all weird on me, I decked him."

"On my eye of all places!" Jamie shouted, slamming the cold pack on the kitchen counter. "When I said I'd knock myself out, I meant I'd take my medication and sleep it off in the car." He pointed a finger to his eye. "Look at this ...I look like I participated in a pub brawl."

Willie glanced up before turning a page of the newspaper. "Aye, that ye do."

"Well, you should have told me more about your condition," Quentin stressed, pointing the mallet at him. "How was I supposed to know what a panic attack looks like?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Even if it was a panic attack, what made ye think socking me on the eye is the answer?"

Quentin shrugged. "I guess I get panic attacks too, ...now there!" When Jamie turned away in frustration, he pressed on. "Look at the bright side ...I got rid of your seasickness and saved you from having a relapse."

"I told ye already I wasnae having a panic attack, and I havenae had one for some time now!"

"Hey, may I remind you that I offered to drive Claire and Annalise to the airport and fly in later as Willie did? Your brother would have been in a better position to deal with your condition. I know you wanted to talk more about that bloody bench, but ..." Quentin shook his head as if remembering something. "Say ...I still don't understand why we haven't gone altogether. All this palaver with keeping this whole thing a secret and Willie taking the next plane after dropping off the girls." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Another thing, no one's told me yet where the girls were heading to."

Jamie gave his brother a warning cough.

Willie sighed and lowered his newspaper. "The lassies are somewhere having fun. Anyway, ye'll be getting yer wish granted. Ye'll be flying in my place when we return back to the mainland. Jamie told me CalMac ferries banned ye for a year."

Jamie bit back a smile at Willie's smooth change of subject.

"So Jamie told you." Quentin popped a walnut in his mouth. "Did he also tell you he didn't even try to explain to the police that it wasn't my intention to knock him out cold? That my intention was to help."

Jamie took a slow breath. "How could I? My head was still reeling from your punch. The police could only take in reports from eyewitnesses." 

Quentin cast the mallet aside and flattened both hands on the counter. "All right, all right ....never mind that. What's done is done, and I apologised already." He paused for a few beats and frowned. "So ... what's happening now? Why are we sitting around in this cottage when we could be organising some grub and booze?"

"Just hang fire for a little bit more." Jamie took out his phone and pretended to fiddle with it. It was becoming more difficult to distract Quentin by the second, but he needed to do this right if his plan was going to work. "The landlord is supposed to stop by. It shouldn't be long now."

"Well ..." Quentin glanced at the wall clock. "If the landlord doesn't come anytime soon, I'm going to find the nearest pub. I'm starving. And don't tell me to eat fruits. I want a proper hot meal. And I need a drink after the morning we had."

Not happening! Jamie couldn't have him doing that. "Look, dinnae start lining yer imaginary shots just yet. Pubs open much later here. Maybe while we're waiting, ye can show me that bench we were talking about." He gave Quentin a meaningful look. "Remember? It's one of the reasons why we came here for. Ye've delayed it long enough bashing those walnuts."

Quentin lifted an eyebrow. "Can you blame me? If we'd eaten first, we wouldn't be having this discussion, and we could be looking at that bench already. As it stands, I have to settle for walnuts. Besides, can't the bench wait? You said this trip would be entertaining. And smashing walnuts is not my idea of entertainment."

Jesus, why does everything have to be difficult with this man? 

Willie finally took pity on Jamie as he regarded them both with a mixture of impatience and amusement. "Look, I ken ye're both a bit on edge and didn't have a good start to the day." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I know ye're hungry, Quentin, and I know yer eye's in pain, Jamie, but bickering at one another is no' gonnae help yer cause." He clasped his hands and gave Jamie a knowing look. "Why don't ye both go and look at that bloody bench while I wait here for the landlord. That way, we're getting something done. Fair enough?"

"Fine." Jamie and Quentin said simultaneously.

Willie's head briefly fell back, and he heaved a relieved exhale up at the ceiling. "Finally, they agreed on something."

Quentin ignored Willie and looked at Jamie. "Right, we might as well." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "If you'll follow me," he instructed before heading for the front door.

Jamie glanced at his brother, who just nodded and returned back to reading the newspaper. Rolling his head on his shoulders, he followed Quentin out of the house and to the back garden. 

Halfway, Quentin glanced back at him. "So ...about that bench, you still remember this place?"

"Only vaguely," Jamie responded quietly, overcome with acute nostalgia as he began to take in his surroundings. 

The last few nights, while Claire had been cooped up in the shed doing edits, he and Quentin had been trying to piece their history together, mostly to help Jamie understand the past. It had been a frustrating feat at best for Quentin, trying to unravel Jamie's memories as a toddler that they'd almost laid the past to rest. Until Jamie had mentioned a bench with engravings in a garden of a coastal retreat, he'd once visited as a wee bairn. To his astonishment, Quentin had immediately known the place. The more they'd talked about it, the more the memory of that day made sense and became vivid until an idea came to Jamie's mind ...to use this trip for his plan.

When they reached the back of the house, they came to a stop, and there in the middle of the freshly trimmed lawn was the bench. Fragmented images began to flood Jamie's brain, colliding together to form a vivid picture. As if being pulled by an invisible force, he made his way towards the seat. Laying a hand on the surface, he caressed the weather-worn wood, relying on his heart to know what to search for. When he found the familiar yet foreign carving, he knew he'd made the right decision to arrange this trip. "Here it is."

Quentin stooped down beside Jamie to take a better look. "Jesus, it is really here," he whispered. "Just as Henry told me." He glanced at Jamie. "And you remembered. How old were you when you were last here?"

Jamie sat on the bench and briefly squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he took a deep breath. "At the most, I must have been four. It was summer. My ma needed a break from us boys, so Murtagh took Willie and me on a trip here to visit Harry. Jenny stayed behind. I cannae mind what Harry was doing here, but I do remember him showing me this when my godfather disappeared into the house." His fingers traced the engraving. "I never understood then what it meant when he read it out to me. He'd told me it was our wee secret."

"It was a secret, alright. Henry wouldn't have wanted Murtagh to know." 

"Aye, I sort of caught the gist of it then even though I was too young to understand."

Quentin spoke with a distant look in his eyes. "Henry told me everything that happened that day and how it had been difficult for him to keep their trip here a secret from Julia. It was supposed to be a surprise."

Jamie couldn't help laughing out loud. He knew the feeling. "Aye, I can imagine," he replied, hoping Quentin would finally take the hint and see the real reason behind this trip.

"Did you know Henry had always wanted a son for his firstborn?" Quentin asked out of the blue. "Don't get me wrong, though. Claire was the light of his life, and he loved her. So much so, he would stare at her for hours while she slept. So Julia told me anyway. But he'd always said he wanted a son. I think it had something to do with him spending a lot of time with you and your brother during the summer, even before he met Julia." He smiled at Jamie. "He had fond memories of you and your brother, and it was very apparent from the stories he told me of you."

"A son," Jamie murmured, shifting on the bench as another memory popped up. "Aye, he'd mentioned something about wanting a son. He used to joke about having one, one day ...a strong lad like me were his words." He got up from his position and scoured the seat once more with his fingers and eyes, trying hard to remember where the other etching was. "I seem to recall myself asking Harry what if the baby turns out to be a girl. I cannae mind his reply, but he told me to pick a girl's name because he'd already had one for a boy. After I picked one, he carved both names we came up with on this bench ... it's here somewhere."

"Really?" Propping his specs on his nose, Quentin hunched over and began to search. "Can you remember the name you chose?"

He shook his head. "I probably came up with something daft ...like some cartoon character Jenny used to watch. "

"Or perhaps not." Quentin hunkered down, gliding his hand over the wooden surface of the edge of the bench. "Take a look at this." He stood up and took a step back to allow Jamie to see better.

What Jamie saw next took his breath away and only confirmed that niggling feeling in his guts. It hadn't been a misplaced memory nor a dream. He unseeingly watched Quentin squat down again to take a better look at the engraving, barely able to formulate words to express his emotions over the thoughts running through his head. Was this Harry's way of sending him a message ...a blessing of some sort? Or was it just some quirk in the universe, and everything had been purely coincidental? If it was the former, he'd been taken on a merry rough ride, and he could almost envision Harry's delight at his handiwork, watching them by the sidelines. Like Quentin, he was momentarily at a loss for words.

"You know, Henry's been gone for years," Quentin finally spoke after a long silence. "And it astounds me that you refer to him by his nickname with such familiarity. Only Julia called him Harry. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, sometimes you talk about him as if he's still alive. You may have forgotten many of your memories of Harry, but it's quite obvious the special bond you had with him is still there, and it must have made an impact on your life."

Jamie almost laughed out loud. If only Quentin knew. He debated whether to say anything about Harry's mysterious appearances, but after a few indecisive heartbeats, he thought, bugger it. He might as well let the cat out of the bag. "Harry has appeared to me," he blurted rapidly before he could change his mind. "Numerous time. As solid and as real as we are standing here right now."

Quentin frowned. "What do you mean?"

Briefly, he filled Quentin in on the mystery that was Harry, from the first time the appearances began and everything in between and watched an array of expressions register on the older man's face. "I've only shared this story with Willie and Claire, and now ...you. It's not something I like to share with just anyone. But because ye're Harry's brother, I thought ye ought to know as well."

Quentin let out a low whistle. "That's some story. I don't know what to say. I've never believed in all these mumbo-jumbo spirit sightings, but ..." He let out a huge sigh. "...though your story is bizarre, strangely enough, I believe you. That night when you mentioned this place and this bench, I dreamt of Henry after. For the first time in years. He was sat right here, not saying a word. That's why I agreed to go on this trip. The notion that he may be trying to say something did occur to me and thought I might as well see this special place of Henry and Julia for myself."

Jamie let out an exhale of relief just as he saw Willie walking in their direction. His brother made a motion of tapping his watch, which could only mean one thing. He needed to make a move. Straightening up to his full body height, Jamie faced Quentin and cleared his throat. "Speaking about this place ..." He swallowed and braced himself. "I haven't been entirely honest with ye."

"Is that so?"

Willie came to stand beside them, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Jamie disregarded his brother's knowing smirk. "There's also another reason for this trip that I meant to tell ye."

Quentin muttered a curse. "You're going to tell me this isn't the all-lads trip you'd been going on about, is that it?"

"Aye ...no! I mean ..." He tunnelled impatient fingers through his hair. "What I meant to say is ...with everything falling into place ...Harry, the engravings on this bench a-and how our history are sort of intertwined together ...I -I thought ...right here and now would be a perfect time."

"Perfect time for?"

Jamie puffed out a breath. "Perfect time to ask for your blessing."

"Blessing for what?" Quentin's brow puckered, but by then, he knew Jamie well enough, and it only took a quick study of the situation to determine exactly what was going to be asked. Quentin's eyes widened at the realisation. "Holy hell, Jamie! Are you bloody kidding me? Is this what all this has been about?"

"It's been coming to this, cannae ye see it?" He worked to steady his voice. "Ye dreamt of Harry sat on this bench. That must mean something, and ye know it. Everything that's happened to me ...Claire coming to the Highlands ....those ..." He pointed at the bench. "...those engravings ....they didn't happen by chance. All of it has led to this day.."

"Jesus! I can't believe you're making me want to thump you a few hours after I just walloped you on the eye and apologised for it." He rolled up the sleeves of his top. "I was just beginning to warm up to you, lad. But it has to be done. It's a rule."

"Rule? What bloody rule?" He watched Quentin clenched and unclenched his fist. "Ye really are gonnae thump me, is that it?"

"Rule is rule," Willie murmured, watching them closely while sneaking glances at his phone. "But best get this settled soon because we dinnae have much time left."

"Time for what?" Quentin shot. "What the bloody hell is going on now?"

Jamie's patience was swiftly deteriorating. "Look, Quentin ...ye can thump me later, alright? I'll even offer ye my good eye. But right now, I need yer blessing." 

Quentin laughed incredulously. "Listen, son, you don't get to schedule your own thumping." 

That was the last straw. Whatever patience Jamie had left dissolved. There was no time for pussyfooting. He took two steps forward and brought his face close to Quentin's. The older man looked too shocked to react, so Jamie took advantage. "Listen to me, ye cantankerous ol' git. I tried being patient with ye because I know ye like me even if ye have a funny way of showing it. But this intent on giving me grief for whatever demented reason ye have and deriving joy out of it is bloody mental. So, I'm asking ye in the nicest possible way ...give me yer blessings. Ye're gonnae give it to me anyway. So cut out all this shite and give it to me now."

A tense silence between the men ensued, and they all stood stock-still waiting for each other to give in, and the only discernible sound to be heard was the waves crashing on the beach.

When the phone notification went off, Quentin and Jamie momentarily forgot their stand-off and whipped their attention to Willie. "So gentlemen, what is it going to be? It's nearly showtime."

Quentin's eyes narrowed. "Showtime?"

..........

"Òran na Mara," Claire read out loud as they drove past the hand-carved wooden sign. "Song of the sea. How very fitting."

"I think it's romantic," Annalise whispered in response, smiling at her from the passenger seat in front. 

"Weel, here we are," the driver announced as they pulled into the driveway. "Welcome to yer home for the next few days." 

Claire leaned forward to take a better look at the cottage with a thatched roof and stone wall. Though it retained its traditional features, the beautiful structure had all the subtle hallmarks of luxury, and she could tell it had been sympathetically modernised without compromising its original character. She smiled when she caught a glimpse of the white sand beach and the turquoise Atlantic ocean. "This is gorgeous, Annalise. Jamie's outdone himself with this surprise."

"He certainly has," Annalise grinned. "Shall we?"

They both hopped out, and while Annalise sorted out the driver, Claire could only stand there in awe of the surrounding. Everywhere she turned, there was something to look at - beaches, rolling hills, and islands on the horizon. She was so taken by the natural beauty around her, she didn't even notice the car drive away. 

"Wait till you see inside. Jamie showed me pictures of the interior." Annalise walked up to the house and opened the wooden door, and Claire followed, hefting her luggage.

Inside was just as breathtaking as outside. "Wow," Claire breathed, admiring the views from the numerous windows. "This place is huge. There's probably enough room to accommodate ten people here. What are we going to do with all this space? The boys should have come."

Annalise just shrugged and smiled as she opened the glass door that led to the back garden overlooking the beach. "Why don't you go out and enjoy the view. There's a seat over there. I'll go and find us something to drink."

She stepped out of the cottage and sucked in a deep breath of salty air, and immediately felt at peace. Shading her eyes from the sun, she surveyed the curved bay of the beach and the peninsula in the backdrop. As far as she could see, there wasn't a soul in the area, nor were there passing cars to be heard, just the sound of nature, white sands and blue skies ahead. Oddly enough, the scenery uncannily reminded her of her mother's painting, which hung in her family home in Oxford, making her momentarily wonder if it was still there.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. There was still no message from Jamie. She decided it was no use pining over him when he must have spent a fortune sending her here to have some quality time with her best friend. He was thoughtful that way, even though sometimes to a fault. With a shake of her head, she shoved her phone back in her jeans, but something brought her up short as she made her way towards the bench. A familiar scent.

Before she could turn around to seek for the source, a pair of strong arms slid around her waist, soft, warm lips gliding along the back of her neck.

Exhilaration snapped in her veins. "Jamie," she breathed, turning around to wrap him in her arms. "You're here."

"I'm here," Jamie returned gruffly, his big hand rubbing circles on the small of her back. "Did ye really think I'd let ye out of my sight for a whole weekend when ye could be returning to London anytime soon?" He buried his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling his nose against her skin. 

"A part of me didn't think so." She tipped her head back and forced him to look at her. When his face came to view, she did a double-take. "Your eye! What happened?"

His lips twitched. "Dinnae fash, Sassenach. It's just a minor accident. So, do ye like yer surprise?"

Her lungs released the pent-up breath she was holding in a rush. "I love it and even more so now that you're here." 

He smiled and took a moment to search her eyes before their mouths joined, warm hands cradling her face. His tongue parted her lips and stroked with the utmost tenderness in a slow, savouring kiss making her aware of their hearts pounding in unison.

"Sassenach ..." He trailed off to brush his lips against her temple. "Before anything else, there's something I have to show ye."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Another surprise?"

Tongue tucked into his cheek, he momentarily glanced over her shoulder before his gaze ticked back to hers. "I suppose ye can call it that. Have ye been here before?"

She noticed the immediate gravity in Jamie's expression as he kissed her brow. "No. I haven't. But I must admit this place does feel familiar."

"How so?"

"The views ...it reminds me of my mother's painting. She's probably been here at one point."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "She was."

"She was? How do you know? Uncle Lamb told you?" she asked rapidly.

"Patience, woman! Too many questions all at once." He tugged her towards the bench, and when he let go, he stooped over the seat and ran a hand over the wooden surface. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Come here and take a look at this."

Claire did as she was told, and as she crouched down, her eyes landed on a string of words carved in what looked like a feeble attempt at calligraphy.

 Henry and Julia - At the end, as at the start, through all the in-betweens, until the world stops spinning.

 A choppy breath passed her lips as she ran her fingertips over the etchings. "It's my mum and dad."

"Aye."

"They were here." She stood up and looked around her, this time, trying to see the surroundings through their eyes. "It makes sense dad brought mum to this place. It's so romantic, and from stories I've been told, he was just ...that. And I can imagine my mum sitting here on this very spot, capturing the moment with her artwork." An intense wave of gratitude suddenly rose, almost making the moisture in her eyes spill. Jamie had done this for her because he knew, just like him, she was trying to put the pieces of her past together. "God, this is bloody insane. I wouldn't have seen this if we hadn't met."

"Ye want to hear the best part?"

She gave him a wobbly smile. "Go on then."

"Yer da proposed to your ma on this very bench."

She let out a soft expulsion of breath. Something expansive and extraordinary stirred within. It was as if, in this very moment, Jamie's revelation had taken back to her parents' past and was there to witness it. "I don't know what to say." 

"The carvings on the bench was yer da's tribute to the day he proposed to yer ma."

"And you know this, how?" she asked quietly.

"Yer uncle and I put two and two together," Jamie explained, with a one-shoulder shrug. "I told ye ....some memories of my childhood have started to come back. Weel, this was one of them. When I mentioned to Quentin about how yer father showed me his handiwork on this bench when I was a wee lad, he'd figured this was the place Harry proposed. Yer father must have spoken of this place to yer uncle. I didnae understand any of it back then. I was too young. I wouldnae have realised the significance of it if I hadn't told Quentin about it. After some thoughts, I knew I had to come back and see it for myself just to prove I hadn't imagined any of it."

"But did you have to put me on a charter plane?" she softly admonished. "With Tom Christie? Are you mates with him now?"

"Tom is often hired to fly some goods to Stornoway for some restaurant. When I heard he'd be flying today, I thought it fitted perfectly with my plan. I must admit it pained me to ask him to take ye girls, but he was happy enough to sneak ye in."

"We could have flown here together."

"Aye, we could have." He took her hand in his and played with her fingers. "But I wasnae sure how I'd fare in the plane with my PTSD. Besides, I had a few personal businesses to attend to. 

"Such as?"

He shook his head in amusement and kissed her lips, lingering there before drawing away. "Ye're distracting me, Sassenach and I still have something to show ye."

She heard Annalise's laughter coming from the cottage. "I presume Willie is here with you too."

"Your presumption is correct. Now stop asking questions and take a look at this." He pulled her towards the other end of the bench.

She sighed. "Alright, let's see it then."

Jamie let go of her hand and tapped a finger on the spot. "Take a look."

Claire leaned forward and read the inscription.

 Jamie/Claire - the promise of greater things to come.

 She frowned as confusion settled upon her. "What's this?" She traced the grooved marks of the words with a fingertip. "This has the same indentation as the other engraving. And it looks old. This couldn't have been recent."

"Yer da wrote it."

She straightened up. "Wot? But what does it mean?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "He wrote the names he would name his firstborn. He chose my name for a boy, and I got to pick yers."

Her eyes widened. "You picked my name?"

"Apparently," he grinned.

A laugh bubbled out of her. "God, so much to take in. Whatever next?"

"This." Jamie picked up a paper bag she hadn't noticed before by the bench and pulled out a padded envelope. "It's from yer workplace." He read the sender. "Dreamcatcher."

She sighed, still reeling from what Jamie just told her. "It's probably from John," she murmured more to herself as she took the envelope. She tore it open and was surprised when she pulled out its content and realised it was a children's book. "It's from Louise." When Jamie gave her a bland look, she sat down on the bench and stared at it. "She's a good friend of Annalise and a children's book author as well as an illustrator. I convince her to publish with Dreamcatcher when she showed me her work. I admitted to her a while back I wanted to be a writer. Every time our paths would cross, she'd asked me if I'd done anything about it. And every time I told her I was still working as an editor, she would give me a disappointed look." She smiled and shook her head. "I wonder why she sent this to me." Admiring the colourful print, she ran her hand over the cover. "What a talented woman."

"So ...what is the book about?"

Claire examined the book. "It's about The Unicorn and the Lioness," she answered, reading the title and leafing through the pages. As she suspected, each page was beautifully and colourfully illustrated. "Well, shall we see what we have here?" She opened it to the beginning and began to read aloud.

 There once was a unicorn

That fell for a lioness. 

She surprised him with her charm,

And her comeliness.

 She grinned as she flipped the page. "Unusual pairing," she observed, making a face at Jamie. "...but hey ...the unusual ones tend to be the best." 

She licked her lips and continued reading.

 The two, you see, 

Were from different worlds 

So it made him wonder, 

How'd it all unfurled?

 "Ah ... makes me wonder too," she added softly. "This is getting interesting."

Jamie laughed, angling his body so he could also see the pictures.

 In spite of their differences, 

It was love at first sight. 

Their feelings grew quickly, 

Their hearts took to flight.

 She smiled and turned to the next page.

 The unicorn, his life, 

Once troubled and scattered 

Now calmed and on the mend

In all ways, that matter.

 She glanced up at him and grinned. "Well, love heals, so they say," she remarked with a wink. "And love is all there is."

"Love is all there is," Jamie echoed with amusement.

She took a deep breath and resumed where she left off.

 There were simply no words 

For how lucky he'd become. 

Without her by his side 

Life would be hopelessly glum.

 She paused for a beat as a peculiar inkling tugged in her guts. Swallowing the odd knot in her throat, she forced herself to say something. Anything! "We wouldn't want the unicorn feeling glum now, would we?" she managed, suddenly unable to draw breath. 

"No," he replied. "A glum unicorn would be a tragedy."

Oh, lordy, lordy! Is this what I think what's happening? She took a fortifying breath and lifted the next page with a shaky hand. 

 It's hard to believe 

Just how happy they were. 

He could not conceive 

Even one day without her.

 "Happy is good," she squeaked, working her throat to be heard. 

"Happiness is always a good choice ...grab it while ye can," he returned quietly.

Unable to get a grip of her runaway thoughts, a dull pounding began in her chest, gradually accelerating and drowning out the noise in their surrounding, portraying the moment with a dreamlike quality. She peered up at Jamie. Underneath his handsome exterior, she could see he was anxious, the lines around his mouth more noticeable than usual. The bruise on his eye, as much as she didn't believe it resulted from an accident, added a mixture of masculinity and vulnerability. God, I love this man! She wanted to stand up and hug him and let him know she knew where he was going with this. But now was not the time to ease his anxiety. She needed to pull herself together to see through what Jamie had probably painstakingly arranged for this moment.

"Weel, are ye gonnae finish reading it?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Batting a speck of non-existent dirt from the book, she filled her lungs, nodded and read the next lines.

 So he got on one knee

To hand her a gift 

A tiny velvet box

Holding a silver piece

 A silver piece? A record-scratching moment descended upon her like a heavy lead. What's a silver piece? Had she misinterpreted Jamie's intention? But when she glanced up from the book, there he was kneeling in front of her. Holding an expensive-looking velvet ring box, looking determined and brimming with adoration. It's not a ring, Beauchamp! It's a silver piece ...whatever the heck that is. Get a grip. She mentally shook herself. Of course, it couldn't be a ring. It's too soon for him to be asking her hand in marriage. The tiny box had to contain a key to his cottage, ....but he'd already given her one. Perhaps he bought a new house?

"Are ye gonnae to open it?" he asked, breaking her thoughts.

At a loss for words, she took the velvet box with trembling fingers. She reminded herself to calm down. She wouldn't want to embarrass them both into thinking Jamie was proposing.

"It's no' gonnae open itself, Sassenach. Or do ye want to keep holding it until ye're ready?" His lips twitched at its corner, and a spark of amusement lit his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She took a deep breath and opened the tiny box. When she glimpsed its content, she could only manage a weak "Oh!" Nestled in the case was a shiny one-pound coin where the ring should have been. Too confused for words, she gave him a questioning look.

On his knees, Jamie edged himself forward and took her hand. Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Sassenach ...ye ken how I've always talked about how fate in some strange, mysterious way brought us together?" Claire slowly nodded in response, unsure where he was going with this. "Weel, to this day, I still dinnae ken how it all works. This may sound mad. But with everything that's led to here and now, I firmly believe some force, unknown or known, has had a hand in bringing us together. And every day, I thank whoever is listening up there for bringing ye into my life." 

Her heart swelled with love. "Jamie, you don't have to do this," she said, laying a hand on his cheeks. "I know what's in your heart."

"No." He took the coin from the box and pulled something from the back of his jeans. "I want to do this." Whatever he reached out for inside his pocket, he kept it hidden in his hand. He cleared his throat and gave her a small smile. "Loving ye is the best part of my life, Sassenach. You brought light and colour in, and for that, I'll always be grateful. Ye brought me back to life when I didnae even realise I'd stopped breathing. From the moment I first laid eyes on ye, I wanted ye for keeps. I want to be yers and for ye to be mine, and I promise I will always try my utmost best to keep ye happy."

"I've always been yours. And always will be. My move to the Highlands should have made that clear enough for you."

"Aye, I had no doubt about that. But I ken that stubborn, practical side of ye will try to argue what I'm about to ask ye is too soon." When he opened his hand, she gasped. On the middle of his palm was a three-diamond stone engagement ring with two smaller ones flanking a bigger brilliant round centre. Emotions tangled in her throat as he raised the one pound coin with his other hand. "If ye, like me, believe destiny ...the universe ...yer da or whatever ye wish to call it ...conspired to bring us together, I'm gonnae dare ye to leave it up to fate with this one-pound coin I have here."

"Wot?" Now she was utterly confused.

"I'm proposing a coin toss. The rules are simple, and it only takes five flips. If it comes up heads each time ... ye'll wear my ring. We dinnae have to marry right away. We can wait a day or ten years. Either way, I want ye to know I plan on loving ye straight through eternity. If the coin comes up tails, weel ..." he trailed off, shrugging. "I guess I have no choice but to wait until ye're ready."

She looked down at Jamie's opened palms, a coin in one hand and a ring in the other. He was doing this so she wouldn't feel pressured to marry but feel secure enough in the knowledge he'd always be waiting for her no matter how long. She squeezed her eyes shut and crammed her fingers to her lips to keep a cry from escaping. She was not interested in tossing a coin to prove they're meant for each other. What they felt for one another wasn't based on fate or luck. They'd met, fallen in love, and now they're taking their relationship to the next level. It's something that happened all the time. They may not love each other the easy way, but their hearts were in the right place every single time. They're rock solid, and she didn't need a flipping coin to tell her that. 

When she opened her eyes, a sound broke free in her chest. "Bloody hell, Jamie! Just stop with all this silliness, and put the damn ring on my finger," she hiccuped, giving him her hand. 

Jamie's shoulders drained of tension as his breath released in a rush. "Did ye just agree to marry me?"

Hot tears rolled down Claire's cheeks as she let out a watery laugh and fell back on the bench, right where her father had proposed to her mother all those years ago. Though it felt right, a slight uneasiness tried to sneak in when she remembered what Annalise had told her about Jamie's doubt about having children of his own. She searched his face, and all she could see was his love and promise to make her happy. Isn't everything supposed to fix itself when two people are in love? She made a decision not to bring it up ...for now. "Yes, Jamie. I did. I want to marry you too," she breathed as she watched him take her hand to slip the ring on her finger. When she gazed at it, she could only make out the twinkle of diamonds through her tears.

"Christ, I cannae believe ye ditched the coin toss. and agreed to marry me ...just like that."

"I don't need the coin toss to know we're meant for each other," she pointed out. "And you shouldn't either."

He gave her a boyish lopsided grin, one that he was very aware always had an effect on her. Damn! He rose to his full height, tugging her along with him. "Ye have no idea how happy you made me, Sassenach," he breathed, pulling her roughly against him and grazing her earlobe with his teeth. "Now, for the love of God, give yer man his engagement kiss."

Committing this moment to her memory, she slipped her hands under his top to feel the warmth of his skin. Standing on her tiptoes, she tipped her head back and laid a soft kiss on his lips. She smiled when his chest and stomach muscles strained and swelled underneath her touch. "Is that better?" she whispered.

Jamie muttered a curse under his breath, rolling his forehead side to side against hers. "Sassenach, I said kiss. Ye cannae touch me like that when there are people that could be watching us from the house."

"Why?"

"Jesus!" Jamie's exhale came out hot against her forehead. "Why? How am I going to walk back in there in this condition? Ye look at me so innocently when ye ken well I feel a little crazy right now. It wouldnae take much to get me going. Look at what ye do to me."

They both dropped their attention to the bulge straining against his jeans. "I see," she whispered with a shrug, drawing away. "Too bad. I guess we just have to have that celebratory kiss later ...when we're alone."

Looking pained, his hand dug into her hair, pulling her back in, in his hold. "Not too fast." His lips swept over hers before his tongue dipped inside to give her his own brand of teasing. Seconds ticked by while he tantalised with a deep kiss, causing a moan to pass her throat. She felt the shudder that passed through him, the ecstasy of this second, his love, the pressure of his lust pressing between their bodies, the awe and gratitude. It was their own private celebration, drowning everything else out and ...

A throat cleared gruffly. Jamie stiffened and dragged his lips from her mouth, pink blooming on the tips of his ears. Just beyond his shoulder, she saw uncle Lamb averting his eyes and rocking on his heels. 

"Uncle Lamb?" Claire croaked. "Don't tell me you're on this as well?"

"Trust me, sweetheart, you're not the only one who's been bushwhacked."

"Bushwhacked?"

"I guess this is the part where we say, congratulations." Willie's voice cut through her surprise at seeing her uncle, causing her head to drop forward on Jamie's chest. As the reality of their surroundings slowly began to encroach, Claire somehow found the willpower to unwind her arms from Jamie's neck and turn around. Three pair of eyes were trained on them with a mixture of amusement and joy for their happiness and mild annoyance from her uncle.

"Aye, we're officially engaged," Jamie announced, his arm going around her waist to pull her back against his chest. He pressed his lap to her backside to let her know the situation in his pants. 

Claire stifled a giggle and put on her best smile, fully aware of Jamie's mild discomfort. "We are, indeed," she grinned, leaning back to kiss the underside of Jamie's jaw. "I must admit, I never saw this coming." She lifted her hand to show them the ring.

Annalise whooped and clapped her hands. "Well, this call for a celebration then," she beamed, skipping towards them. "Let me see it." 

Squeezing her hip, Jamie let her go. She smothered the urge to laugh when she supposed that probably nothing loses a man's erection faster than a sight of her uncle Lamb's tetchy demeanour. Dismissing her silly thoughts, Claire splayed her hand out for her friend. "It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

"Stunning. I'm so happy for you." She looked Claire in the eye and spoke for her ears only. "Did you tell him what we talked about earlier?"

"Which one?"

"Babies. Hello?"

Claire sighed. She didn't want to lie to her friend, nor did she want to taint the occasion by bringing the subject of future babies up. There was a time and place for that and now wasn't appropriate. She hugged Annalise briefly and spoke into her ears. "Everything is going to be fine."

Annalise brows furrowed, but when she saw how happy Claire was, she immediately dropped the subject. "If you say so."

"I know so," Claire smiled, pulling away from her friend at the sight of Willie approaching. "Now, scoot and celebrate with us."

Annalise did an eye-roll and let Willie through.

"Congratulations!" Willie broke in, raising the bottle of Moët in his hand and giving Jamie a high-five with the other. He dropped a kiss on Claire's cheek and grinned. "Welcome to the family, Claire. My not so wee bràthair doesnae mess about, does he?"

"Thank you," she smiled. "And, no, he certainly doesn't."

Jamie received a back slap and a hug from his brother while Claire watched her uncle slowly approached them, shoulders strained, and hands shoved in his pocket. Something was amiss. Quentin was avoiding her eyes, and she noticed his face was devoid of emotions. She strode to his side. "Seriously, uncle?" she hissed, disbelief colouring her tone.

Quentin ignored her. "You sneaky piece of shit!" he barked at Jamie. 

"Oh, dear God, here we go again," Willie muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Again?" Claire gasped as she noticed Annalise and Willie's eyes ricocheting between Jamie and Quentin. She was about to scold her uncle when his face broke into a grin. She held her breath and stilled in anticipation.

"Congratulations, son! I couldn't think of a better man for my niece!"

"About time ye realised it, ol' man," Jamie grinned.

"Who are you calling an old man?" Quentin ground out in mock displeasure.

Annalise, Willie and Claire gaped at Quentin.

"What?" Quentin chuckled. "If I'd come right out and told Jamie right at the start, I couldn't think of a better man for my niece, he would never have fought for her the way he did."

"What kind of logic is that?" Claire fumed.

Jamie crossed his arms. "Oh, this is gonnae be gold."

"It's a men thing, sweetheart and complicated," Quentin muttered, giving Jamie a dirty look.

"I'll try and keep up. Explain."

Quentin released an impatient sigh. "Men in your generation have none to too little backbone. Jamie had to realise he was good enough and strong enough for you. And you had to make him realise it. That's the top and bottom of it."

Her uncle was right, Claire thought. A few weeks ago, Jamie wouldn't have thought himself capable of coming this far with his condition. She might have been instrumental in pulling him out of the darkness where he'd lived for so long, but all the hard work had come from Jamie.

When Quentin took her hand and pulled her into an awkward embrace, she relaxed. "I'm not going to be around forever, darling," he said gruffly before pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I wanted to make sure you were in good hands if anything happened to me." He glanced at Jamie. "I had an inkling when Claire first told me about you, and we talked for the first time on that video chat, that your relationship was serious. The second I found out Henry's connection to you, I had to delve more into your history. When you started talking about fate and all that tripe, I didn't believe in it ...but these last few days, after spending time together, you made me believe in you. I saw something in you." 

Quentin gestured toward the double-headed one-pound coin Jamie had left on the bench. "So when you tried to extract a blessing for this proposal after dragging me here under the pretence of a boys' weekend, I thought I'd have a little laugh and grant it by giving that coin Henry gave me and challenging you to leave it to fate ...without telling you it was double-headed. As you know, I was still a bit miff with you for not letting me into this big secret thing. But you surprised me when you agreed to take the challenge and told me you'd leave it to Claire to toss it. You really believe in all that destiny nonsense, don't you?" He shook his head in disbelief. 

Jamie just shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Lamb! How could you?" Claire huffed indignantly, crossing her arms across her chest. "For your information, we didn't toss the coin even if Jamie suggested it."

Quentin's eyes widened. "You didn't?"

"I don't need a damn coin to make my decisions, for God's sake."

Jamie slipped his arm across her shoulder and squeezed her. "It doesnae matter, Sassenach. All that matters is he gave us his blessings and that we love each other."

"I know," Claire whispered before glaring at her uncle. "As for you, no more tricks up your sleeves, are we clear?"

"Jamie caught me off guard with this marriage thing. Can you blame me for what I did?"

"Uncle Lamb! That's not the issue here." She pegged him down with a look. "You've been giving Jamie a hard time from day one. No more tricks and no more taunting Jamie. I love you both, and I want you to get along. Promise me."

Quentin raised his hands in the air before placing them on his chest. "Promise. Jamie's read me the riot act earlier today, and you're speaking to the converted. And I meant what I said when I told him I couldn't think of a better man for you. Honestly, I'm happy for both of you." He opened his arms to her. "Forgive me, sweetheart?"

With a roll of her eye, she stepped away from Jamie's hold and threw herself in her uncle's arms. "You know I'll always forgive you," she mumbled against his neck, hugging him close. "Despite you being such a grouch, I want you to know I am happy that you're here."

"Me too, sweetheart, me too," he said gruffly. "Now, shall we start the celebration? I'm parched and starving." 

"About time," Annalise chirped with a little dance and fist pump.

Laughing, Willie popped the cork on a bottle of Moët while Jamie handed out the crystal flutes. 

Claire watched as their drinks were being poured and smiled. She said a silent prayer for her parents and thanked them. There were so many things to be grateful for. Life was good, and her heart was full. She was moving to the Highlands, start her career as a writer and marry the man she loved. This was what she wanted, and she was prepared for this whatever may come their way. Her only wish was, her parents could be here today, so her father could see what a fine lad Jamie had grown up to be.

Her attention was brought back to the present when Annalise nudged her with her foot. With champagne finally in everyone's hand, they all raised their glasses to their new beginning.

"To Jamie and Claire," Willie began.

"To your happiness," Annalise added.

"To family and friends," Jamie beamed.

"To what's next," Claire breathed.

"To my next meal," Quentin snorted. "Now drink up, and let's go. I'm bloody starving."

..........

"Did you really mean what you said earlier?" Jamie asked Quentin once they were alone, and the rest of the party walked ahead of them on their way back to the cottage from the pub. "About believing in me and being happy for us?"

Quentin glanced at him. "I always say what I mean, son. Best get used to it," he grumbled.

"Right ..." They walked in silence, watching Claire, Annalise and Willie as they began singing the chorus of Living on a Prayer for the umpteenth time. "About that double-headed one pound coin ..." Jamie began.

"That was a clever touch, huh?" Quentin grinned. "Would have come handy for you if Claire had decided to use it. You still got it?"

"Aye." Jamie handed him the coin. "By the way, I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" Quentin asked, taking the coin and shoving it in his pocket.

"The reason why I readily agreed to that coin toss you suggested earlier is that ...Harry gave me one too." Jamie dug his own coin from his pocket and showed it to Quentin. "I knew the coin ye were giving me was double-headed."

Quentin stopped to look at him. "You suggested the coin toss to Claire even though you knew it was double-headed?"

"Aye."

"If Claire had agreed, would you have used the double-headed or the normal coin?"

"The double-headed, of course," Jamie admitted.

"What about all your bloody talk of fate and destiny and all that?"

Jamie shrugged. "Oh, I still believe in fate, but I couldnae take the chance. I love yer niece too much. I think ye would be inclined to agree that the universe has an odd sense of humour, and I needed to cover my arse just in case it decided to turn against me." 

Quentin scowled. "Is it too late to change my mind about you?" 

"Aye." 

They watched as Annalise and Willie, doubled with laughter, latched on to Claire's arms after she stumbled onto the curb.

"Well, then," Quentin grunted. "What the hell are you doing here still babbling to me? Go join the fun."

Jamie shook his head. "Oh no, ye don't, spoilsport. Ye're here to have some fun too. Ye're joining in."

"I'm too old for all that. Now go and leave me in peace."

Jamie narrowed his gaze at him. "Is that really what ye want? To be left in peace?"

Quentin blew out an exasperated breath, but Jamie caught the sheen in his eyes and the smile he was battling. "No. I want you to get used to me showing up," he growled.

Jamie pretended to sound annoyed so as not to embarrass the older man. "Fine, as long as it doesn't involve ye decking me."

"Deal."

..........

Jamie looked up from the mock children's book, smiling when he heard Claire doing her nightly routine in the bathroom. The book disguising his marriage proposal had been Annalise idea. As soon as she'd heard of his intention from Willie, she'd made the suggestion, desperately wanting to play a part in surprising Claire. She even had him adding a few of his own words to the poem. How Annalise's friend managed to illustrate and have the book printed on such short notice, he had no idea. But he must admit, The Unicorn and the Lioness book had been a nice touch.

Claire walked into the bedroom, looking fresh in his t-shirt, her face still flushed from the champagne earlier. He watched her shiver a little, rubbing her arms to generate heat. The sight of her bare legs kicked his heart rate up a notch. He smiled and drew the bedcover back in an invitation to get in.

As she snuggled under the crook of his arm, she smiled when she saw the book on his lap. "I never got to read the ending," she said with a yawn, her arm sliding across his waist.

He kissed the crown of her head and pulled her in closer. "Shall I read it for ye?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll start from where you left off."

"Alright."

Jamie got comfortable and cleared his throat. "Here goes ..."

 So he got on one knee

To hand her a gift 

A tiny velvet box

Holding a silver piece

 Claire giggled. "You got me right there."

"I know," Jamie chuckled, turning the page. "Now wheesht and let me finish."

 Confused and bewildered

That it's not a ring

It became apparent

She wanted the real thing

  So still on his one knee 

He uttered the plea: 

"My dearest lioness, 

Will you marry me?"

  He felt his heart beating 

Right out of his chest. 

He could do nothing but wait 

And hope she'd say YES.

 When he ended and a few moments of silence ensued, Claire twisted from her position and looked up at him. "That's it?"

"Aye," Jamie replied, handing her the book. "Louise said you're a writer, so she left a blank page for you to write the ending."

"Is that so?" she said, laughing, reaching for her specs. "Well, let's see what I can do."

Jamie grabbed a pen from the nightstand and handed it to her.

After adjusting the pillow, she sat up and began scribbling, reading the words out loud as she wrote.

 When she finally answered 

He could not stop grinning 

Because he knew, in his heart, 

This was just The Beginning!

 Claire closed the book and took off her specs. "How was that?" she asked, sliding back under the covers.

"It was good, but I'm left hanging. I'm dying to know what happened after?" 

"Hmmm ..." She climbed on top of him and nipped his lips with her teeth. "They celebrated with their loved ones, ate a lot of food and drank too much champagne." She drew circles on his chest. "Although I have a sneaking suspicion, their night is not over yet." 

Jamie flipped her on her back, making her yelp. He scanned her face for a few heartbeats. "Ye're absolutely right. He's gonnae tell her how happy she's made him," he whispered, his words thick with emotions. "And show her in so many ways how much he loves her." 

She blinked away the tears blearing her vision and smiled up. "Well, he's got all night to prove he's not just a bunch of talk."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "A bunch of talk, huh? He's a big man, Sassenach, and he makes love twice as long."

She slipped her hand past the waistband of his boxer brief and gripped him hard, making him catch his breath. "We'll see about that," she challenged. 

He rewarded her by grabbing her hand and slowly pressing his hips into her. "You're on, Sassenach, you're on," he groaned into her mouth before silencing her with his kisses.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, apologies for the delay in the final chapter of this series. As some of you already know, if you read my Tumblr posts, I've had a bad reaction to my vaccination. Though I feel a little better, I don't feel quite right yet hence the delay of this update. I'm easily tired and have been writing sporadically, depending on my energy level. So, after this chapter, I will take a long rest before starting the next series.

Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone for the kudos and comments on AO3 and on my Tumblr and those who left best wishes in my inbox. I appreciate them all from the bottom of my heart. Though I haven't replied individually, please know I enjoy reading them and look forward to what you have to say.

Thirdly, as you may have gathered, this is the final chapter of this series. There will be a third series. When? I have no time frame yet as I will need time to recuperate. If you wish to be updated, you can always subscribe to the WONDERWALL series by clicking here. Or follow me on my Tumblr site here. 

Lastly, I hope you've enjoyed this last chapter. It's the longest chapter I've ever written, with 11560 words. If this update is all over the place, I blame it on my bad days. I personally think it's alright, but I can never be sure. I believe my reaction to the vaccination has dulled me a bit. So, thank you all from the bottom of my heart: for your continued interest, readership, kudos and comments. I look forward to reading your remarks and constructive criticism on this latest update. Kudos to you all, my friends, and be safe. Keep the positive vibe rolling. Much love. X

 PS I will compile a Masterlist for WONDERWALL and post it on my Tumblr site, either tomorrow or in the next few days, depending on how I feel.

[prettylittlelucygoose]

A Letter to the RPC

I don’t usually do OOC posts, I have a big rule about keeping the OOC stuff on the OOC blog, however, a couple of days ago I came across one of those blogs that talk about the celebrity roleplay groups, players and admins in the community. After reading through the blog I sent them a response and last I checked they hadn’t posted it or said anything about it so I’m posting it myself because I feel like everyone who knows me or has heard of me should read this. 

https://celebrpanonymous.tumblr.com/ is the blog

-Sarah

Hello, there, Sarah here. I just discovered this blog today and I took the time to read everything that was said about me and I wanted to reply if that's okay? You can post this if you wish to.

I have been around since almost the very beginning of tumblr RP. I've started several groups and I've been in a few other groups I never was the admin for. I started roleplaying in October 2011 and opened celebrpg in 2012. At the time I was in a different group and didn't like how it was run and decided to open a group that was for the players. Where they got to do more of what they wanted. I'm truly sorry to everyone if that never came across or didn't come out exactly right, but that's always been my MO in every group I open. I noticed someone said something about my lack of social skills and how I shouldn't be a head mod because of them. I'm on the autism spectrum, something I didn't know until I was in my mid twenties. Also in my mid twenties I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and 3 years ago my husband killed himself. Tumblr RP was the only thing that held me together the last 11 years and I personally don't think anyone should be told they can't do something because they're socially awkward if it's something that is saving their life. I try really hard to be nice and friendly to everyone and what most people take as a tone or me getting upset isn't anything of the sort. I DO have social issues, I DO have a tendency to defend myself because I've always felt very misunderstood, but I NEVER meant to make so many people upset.

I've planned quite a few plots with people, I've been screwed over on plots that were promised to me but then the other player changed their mind and then I myself have changed my mind about something too. I've gotten upset OOC when a ship I love ends (and so have other people) and maybe me expressing myself to people I thought were my friends got taken the wrong way. I've talked to a few people about how they thought I was trying to guilt them into something when I swear I wasn't. On my end it feels like someone tells me something, I give them my opinion, and then suddenly I'm the bad person who's guilting them into something. Of course I've been sad when I've lost ships. Ships that were my main source of escape at that particular time period and I expressed my sadness. Maybe that came off as a different emotion? Maybe I don't know how to express tone properly when writing as myself so I do always try to clarify what I mean. That was something that took me a long time to figure out how to do but once I was diagnosed bipolar I had to start learning my triggers and moods and over the years how my perception is different on things than most people. Me expressing my sadness about losing a ship was NEVER me trying to guilt anyone into anything, just like when people have expressed their sadness to me about a ship ending because I didnt want to do it anymore I never took their sadness as guilt tripping so I've never understood why I've been taken that way.

I don't want to make excuses for the way I was in the past and I know that's what it sounds like I'm doing, but what I am trying to do here is get people to know that I have no bad intentions. I just want to play and when a group has been open as long as carpediem has it does build up a lot of history. It's a lot of time and effort that people have put into storylines. It's not fair for the players still in the group to have to give up their storylines when they're the ones who have played them all this time. Now, if both/all players involved in a plot leave the group then all the history gets erased and that's happened several times. There are certain plot points that are too major to the game play, to the overall storyline that would be too hard to erase now unless the whole group were to erase EVERYTHING and start brand new (which has been an option thrown around a couple times over the years) The history rule isn't meant to force people into things, it's to keep things realistic because in real life we can't just erase parts of our past.

The last thing I want to address is my lack of time on the main page. Over the years I saw groups get super strict with their activity rules to the point where people who had jobs and school and other things to do couldn't keep up and they'd get removed. I'm 33 years old with a full time job and a part time job. I'm trying to stay afloat since my husband died and it's not easy. I don't have the time to get online and promote the main page like I used to when my husband was alive or before I moved in with him and all I did was sit in bed all day too depressed to do anything else. I've come a long way on that aspect but I still want to RP. I still want to have a place where people can come and go and not worry about losing their roll because they haven't been active for a week. The activity became lax at carpediem and because of my husband dying and living where I was living I didn't and still don't have internet. Everything I do on the computer has to be done during the time that I'm in the office and if work is really busy that day well then unfortunately whatever work I wanted to do for the group was pushed aside. Britt stepped up a lot and started helping out in every single way possible and if it wasn't for her the group probably would have closed a long time ago. Carpediem is a group of people who have busy real lives, who can't get on every day, but I like to believe we're all still invested to these lines we've been writing for almost 8 years and that's why certain people are still there.

I want to genuinely apologize to everyone who has felt some type of way from me. I try really hard and I have the best intentions but I feel like Rachel Berry in Glee singing "Get it Right." Reading the things that were said about me on this blog made me feel absolutely horrible about myself. I never knew that people hated me so much, especially in the one place I actually felt free to be myself for a long time. I don't know what else to say except I'm sorry and I'll continue to try to be better.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

lip sync your way into my heart

( @thecomfortofoldstorries and I got into a fun head-cannon debate last night about Tik Tok POVs and this is what happened)

--- Jaskier has never really been in the loop when it comes to social media. He was behind the curve when he made his Tumblr and he was two years late to sign up for Twitter. It’s no surprise that he finally downloads Tik Tok and makes an account several months after it’s become a viral platform.

That also means all the good usernames are taken; Jaskier types in @buttercup-bard, sees that it’s available, and calls it a day. This isn’t an app he’s going to care about. It’s just to waste time during his forty minute commute to and from campus. 

Alas, he has ADHD...and this shit is addictive.

Especially, he hates to admit, the thirst-trap hotties who do weird, obscure, edgy POV videos. Jaskier knows they’re aimed primarily towards teen and young adult women but he’s a red-blooded Redanian gay. He’s horny. He can watch a few POV Tik Toks on the bus and thirst after pretty boys with big muscles...as a treat.

By Jaskier’s second week of classes he’s found a definite favorite Tik-Tokker (is that what they’re called? Or is it influencer? Jaskier doesn’t care). The guy is gorgeous. He has beautiful honey-gold eyes and long, silvery-white hair; which is appropriate since his handle is @whitehairdontcare. He makes a wide range of content, too. Perfect for Jaskier’s Concerta-focused tastes. There are some dances here and there and some Q&A videos, but for the most part he does POVs. 

Jask and his roommates, Essi and Priscilla, have spent many happy hours poring over Mr. White Hair’s account, watching and re-watching their favorites from his vast repertoire of content. Essi loves his weird, edgy-boi shit. Stuff with titles like “POV: I fight the bully who insulted your haircut” or “POV: you make a deal with the devil for true love”. Stuff that Jaskier would have been into when he still listened to My Chemical Romance on the regular (okay, he still does, but don’t tell Essie). 

Priscilla is a huge fan of Tik Tok dances. She follows every challenge and ranks her favorites, compiling them into a YouTube series that’s more for her self-gratification than anything else. Mr. White Hair is generally towards the top of her list whenever he deigns to follow a trend that doesn’t involve badly applied makeup blood smears. The guy clearly works out and the definition of his body (and the movements of said really hot body) make the dances look so much more fluid and fun. Jaskier and Priscilla clearly share a brain-cell when it comes to appreciating Mr. White Hair’s hotness.

Jaskier’s favorites, of course, are the cute little POVs that lie scattered between all the edgy ones. Stuff made for the softies of Tik Tok. Stuff made for boys like Jaskier. “POV: I fix your car for you” is the one he’s probably re-watched the most. Mr. White Hair is lying on his back beneath a jacked-up blue car, oil smeared in a few strategic places on his face, chest, and arms. At the very end of the Tik Tok he moves the wrench out of the way of his face completely and winks directly into the camera.

Jaskier hates to admit it, even to himself, but no matter how many times he’s watched that stupid twenty-give second video, that wink drops his heart straight down into his shoes and fills his stomach with butterflies.

---

“Hey do you guys carry fake blood here?” an almost terrifyingly deep voice asks from behind him. Jaskier twirls around on his heel, Retail Smile firmly in place, and loses his shit the moment he sets eyes on his latest customer.

It’s Mr. White Hair.

Here. In the middle of the aisle of the Party City where Jaskier works every weekend. He’s either going to throw up or pass out or both. 

He doesn’t though. Instead, the Demon Lord of Retail possesses his body momentarily and nods, “Right over this way!” He leads the insanely attractive influencer over to the year-round section of Halloween FX makeup and gestures towards the shelf filled with various fake blood capsules, bottles, and packets. 

“Thanks,” Mr. White hair smiles. Jaskier nods again, silent, and drifts back towards the counter in a daze. He’s the only one on shift right now (it is not a very busy Party City) and he knows that he can’t pass out on the dirty tile floor or he’ll get fired (and perhaps tetanus). He just needs to power through the next few minutes and then he can crouch next to the helium tank and freak the fuck out.

But not until Mr. White Hair is gone.

Just as Jaskier is re-learning how to breathe normally, the sexy internet star makes his way towards the counter with an armful of products and the retail worker loses it again. Thank god for the ability to compartmentalize.

“So, just these for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem! I love your Tik Toks by the way,” Jaskier replies automatically. His eyes widen slightly. Why the fuck did I mention his Tik Toks!?

“Thanks,” the guy says and blushes. “I didn’t know they’d gotten so popular.”

“You have like two million followers?” Jaskier laughs. “I think that makes you pretty popular. Maybe even famous.”

“Oh yeah...right.” 

“Anyway, your total is going to be twenty-one fifty.”

Mr. White Hair pays and Jaskier bags all his fake blood, wondering the whole time exactly what kind of content he can look forward to seeing. More of Essi’s edgy shit, apparently. As he’s handing the plastic bag over the counter, Jaskier smiles and works up the courage to ask, “Is your hair naturally white? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just really pretty.”

Geralt’s face goes slightly pinker than before and he nods. “Yeah. Weird genetic thing. Thanks.”

“No problem. Right on,” Jaskier beams. “Well, it was nice meeting a famous person. Thanks for stopping in.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” the Tik Tokker replies. Jaskier watches him exit the store before ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing Essi. He needs to talk to her before he spirals into a giddy panic attack.

---

“Hey Jask have you seen that hot guy’s latest Tik Tok?” Priscilla asks, lounging across her futon like a queen. Jaskier looks up from his copy of The Collective History of Aedirnian Funeral Dirges and wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?”

“You should go check your phone. I think you’ll be happily surprised.”

“Oh-kay,” Jaskier says, drawing out the ‘kay’ for as long as it takes him to get up from his seat on the floor and exit the room. He retrieves his phone from the charger in the kitchen and returns to Priscilla’s bedside. He opens his new favorite app and pulls up @whitehairdontcare’s page. There’s a new POV from earlier this morning and Jaskier taps on it. 

His eyes go round when he reads the caption: “POV: You’re the cute cashier at the Party City and I’m bad at flirting”. 

Mr. White Hair is staring into the camera with those beautifully golden eyes, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand while he lip syncs to whatever song is playing. He’s wearing a tight, navy blue v-neck and Jaskier can see the movement of every one of his ridiculously defined muscles as they flex. The silver wolf’s-head necklace Mr. White Hair always wears around his neck is in its usual place, dangling down between those perfect collarbones…

Jaskier takes a shaky breath and glances up at his friends, who are staring back at him with wide eyes. “It could be about anyone.”

“How many Party Cities do you think he went to yesterday?”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” Jaskier snorts. “He’s a social media influencer and I am one semester away from finishing my degree and my thesis. Why would he ever want to be with someone like me?”

Essi rolls her eyes and Jaskier goes back to his homework. 

---

Later that night, alone in his room, Jaskier plugs his earbuds into his phone and watches the Tik Tok over and over. He finds the song Geralt used and adds it to his Work Is Tough playlist, which he’s allowed to play over the loudspeakers at the store so long as he’s working a solo shift. 

He watches Mr. White Hair’s plush pink lips move around the words and dreams of kissing them someday, as far-fetched as that scenario is (because this video is definitely not for him, that’s impossible):

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.

So won't you kill me, so I die happy.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,

or wear as jewelry; whichever you prefer.”

Fucking Dashboard Confessional. Of course. One of Jaskier’s favorite bands from his emo days in middle school. If this really was for Jaskier, if this really was a legitimate attempt at online flirtation by Mr. White Hair himself, it was working.

 Jaskier buries his head in his pillow and sighs. 

[neutral-emerald]

SILVER THE COSMIC TIME-JANITOR (or: dude, what's with all the alternate futures)

silver the hedgehog has a very simple backstory. he's a kindhearted, sorta-naive but altogether very driven psychic hedgehog here to save the world by time-traveling to the past (also known as present-day) to prevent the apocalyptic future he was born into from coming to pass!

[ID: A screenshot of Silver from Sonic 06. He’s glowing with cyan energy as he flies over a dark, post-apocalyptic city.]

...wait, if he's time traveling 200 years into the past to completely change the shape of the timeline, how do the stars manage to align such that he manages to be born at the exact same point in the new timeline with the exact same genetics? how are his parents born? does silver have parents?? and how does he do this no less than THREE SEPARATE TIMES??!

hey everyone, i'm tumblr user neutral-emerald here to make good on the idea i vaguely gestured at yesterday and point out silver's wildly inconsistent backstory(s) and then explain to you how this isn't just sega playing hopscotch with the concept of time travel, but actually TOTALLY EXPLAINABLE if you don't mind a whole lot of conjecture and "fuck dude i just think it'd be cool."

LET'S GO.

before i get started, a few things to establish.

first, this is about… half serious, tops. it’s less of a theory and more of an observation of something that’s weird and then throwing some possible explanations at it because i am a massive sucker for time-based nonsense. if you wanna take my observations and build your own conclusions, go for it. i’m not your boss.

second, i'm basing my conclusions off of both the games and the idw comics. the conclusions i draw are applicable to either continuity, but the logic does rest a decent amount on the comics, so just a heads-up in case you were expecting pure game canon from this.

and third, i'm working off like half a brain and very intermittent checks of the wiki and cutscene compilations, so there's probably many things i'm missing! if you notice something i said was wildly off-base, go ahead and correct me in the replies and i'll either edit the post or explain to you just how that detail doesn't actually matter, depending on whether it. y'know. matters.

with that out of the way, let's get into the first topic of discussion!

part 1: the future is inconsistent, y'all

now, i'm not sure if you've heard, but in the year 2006 sonic team released this little indie game creatively entitled Sonic the Hedgehog. it was a smash hit, won countless awards, and for some reason went down in history as a messy, incomplete bugfest. but that's not what matters. what matters is that it introduced Silver the Hedgehog.

silver hails from 200 years in the future. the world is a bleak, fiery place, and has been since the monster iblis was unleashed after princess elise's death. silver was born into this world, which we know since it's literally the first thing he says in his story.

[ID: A cropped line from Silver's story in Sonic 06. "This world was devastated before I was born."]

i'm not going to drag you through a beat-by-beat summary of the entire plot of sonic 06, you should know it already. silver meets mephiles, gets lied to about who caused the apocalypse, mephiles yeets him and blaze into the past, he tries to murder Sonic the Hedgehog™, and so on. eventually he helps kill god, and then sonic and elise travel further back in time to kill god even deader so that none of the game ever happened, and the bad future into which silver was born never happened, thus thoroughly scrubbing silver's existence from the timeline!

...until.

sonic rivals.

i'm not going to speak much on sonic rivals, mostly because i'm not super familiar with it. but what matters is that silver is back! he's still from the future, he's still here to change the past, and most importantly he wasn't deleted from existence by the destruction of solaris, unlike everything else from sonic 06 including everyone's memories of it. and obviously, whatever state his future is in, it's not the same as it was in sonic 06.

now, i don't have a single clue what is going on in rivals 2, so do inform me if there's some big information i'm missing from that one. all i know is he's fixing yet another possible apocalyptic future, like always. correct me if i’m wrong, i don’t have the patience to trawl through it myself.

then we've got sonic colors, in which silver is again from the future. notably, he’s definitely not from an apocalypse!

[ID: Some screenshots from the DS version of Sonic Colors, again cropped to just the text. Tails and Silver are talking to each other.

Tails: What's the future you came from like, Silver? Silver: A lot brighter than this. Silver: The sky is blue, and everybody's got a smile.]

sonic generations doesn't add much. again, correct me if i'm wrong, but i don't think we learn anything about what kind of future silver is from, and he's definitely not here to fix it this time. that's sonic's job! he's just hanging out like everyone else.

now, up until this point the future has been reasonably consistent, setting aside my somewhat abstract understanding of the rivals games. there's nothing to say that silver's not coming back in time from the same point in a single timeline, which is the one and only version of the future ever since the destruction of sonic 06.

UNTIL.

[ID: Two panels from the comic Sonic Forces: Stress Test. In the first panel, Silver looks worried as he lands in front of Knuckles, who looks skeptical.

Silver: We've got big trouble! Eggman— Knuckles: How can you be here? I thought you returned to the future?

In the second panel, Knuckles looks away with a self-assured grin, while Silver looks more panicked.

Knuckles: Oh wait— I must be dreaming! Silver: What? No! I've come back with a dire warning from the future!]

i have a lot of issues with sonic forces, especially with how its story is written. something i do NOT take issue with is the supplemental comics, mainly because they are WONDERFUL evidence for my crackpot time travel theory.

like i said, up until this point we don't really know whether silver has been experiencing separate instances of the future, or simply traveling back in time to prevent an also-time-traveling eggman nega from messing things up in the past. but here, we get some very juicy information:

[ID: Knuckles and Silver again. Knuckles has his arms crossed and is looking at Silver, who has a nervous look on his face as he slams a fist on the palm of his other hand.

Knuckles: Come again? Silver: Something happens that brings the world to ruin! But the historical records are sparse or make no sense. I came back to hopefully head off whatever's about to happen and save the future.]

silver travels back in time to prevent a terrible apocalypse. this is not the beautiful future silver came from in sonic colors— but this is the same silver. everyone recognizes him. he recognizes everyone. and yet, the future he came from is different.

part 2: silver is a walking paradox

allow me to remind you of what i pointed out when i was talking about sonic 06. silver was born into the iblis-apocalypse. considering no elaborate timeline nonsense happened to him before the events of the game (by his reckoning) i think we can safely assume he was born like a regular person with parents.

in the first post-06 timeline, silver was probably also born. let's be charitable, acknowledge that sonic team doesn't overthink the butterfly effect like i do, and say that silver was born to the same parents, because the universe likes to keep things nice and simple and contrive itself to make this particular character exist in this time period.

so, it's entirely fair that silver comes to exist in a post-06 timeline at the equivalent point in time, aka 200 years in the future. it's also fair that he travels back in time to prevent some kind of apocalypse, because that's his narrative role! it's what he does. when it's time for him to exist in the story, that's what he's there to do.

what isn't fair is the fact that it keeps happening.

[ID: A panel from the IDW comics. Sonic is stretching his legs while looking faintly exasperated at Silver, who is nervously holding his arm.

Silver: Er… No. I came back because defeating Eggman didn't save the future. Sonic: Couldn't even play along. Had to bring the mood down. Sonic: *sigh* Okay, what happened this time?]

[ID: The following panel, cropped to just Silver's text bubbles narrating over a starry sky.

Silver: When I left, my time had been conquered by the Eggman Empire. Everyone lived in fear, choking on polluted air. Silver: When I went back, the Eggman Empire was gone— but so was everyone else. Silver: There was nothing left. No people, no animals, no machinery. Only water and sparse, metallic plant life.]

allow me to summarize my understanding of all this: silver is from the future. normally, the future is good. sometimes it isn't. when it isn't good, he goes back in time and fixes things, then returns to the future to check if that fixed things.

the least conjecture-y interpretation i can come up with is that sometimes silver will go into the past, then go back to the future but end up in a Bad Timeline and thus go into the past again to fix things. there's no weird warping directly between bad timelines, he only gets there by way of the past.

but that's boring, so here's my PREFERRED interpretation.

silver hails from a good future, but sometimes it just changes. he's unstuck from time— if something weird happens in the past, he's the only one to know that the passage of fate was changed, because he went to bed in one timeline and woke up somewhere categorically worse, and the only way he can fix it is by figuring out just what caused this and going back in time to fix it.

or, to say it in a meme:

[ID: A picture of someone lying in a hospital bed with a nurse standing next to them, edited so that Silver is in the bed.

nurse: sir… you've been asleep for 2 hours silver: oh boy i can't wait to wake up in the same timeline i went to sleep in]

part 3: how did this happen?

it's one thing to point out that silver doesn't experience time like a normal hedgehog, and another thing to explain how and why this happens.

fyi, this is the part where i go wildly off the rails and start saying whatever i want. there's a ton of explanations one could come up with, most probably stemming back to sonic 06. i'm just going to go with my own, and probably not come up with a whole lot of concrete evidence because i'm just spitballing. this is me having a fun time. going "heeheehoohoo time traveling hedgehog go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"

so. something i haven't touched upon is that in all games after sonic 06, silver can time travel. we never see him do it, it's never explained how he does it. all we know is that he's doing it under his own power.

which is kinda odd, don't you think? should he be able to do that?

in sonic 06, we see three mechanisms for time travel. first is the chaos emeralds. if two people perform Chaos Control with a chaos emerald apiece, they open up a swirling rift in the air which can send them to different points in time and space. silver can't be doing that, for obvious reasons— he's only one hedgehog, and he's not exactly running around with a chaos emerald at all times. that can't be how he does it.

second is a time machine eggman built. that obviously can't be it; the machine doesn't exist at all after the timeline gets wiped, and again, silver is doing this on his own. he's actively antagonistic towards eggman, even. absolutely not this one.

third and finally is mephiles, who can make big purple orbs to take himself and passengers to different points in time. this obviously can't be it either, for similar reasons to number 2, right? after all, mephiles is one half of solaris, who was destroyed before he could be split off. he doesn't exist to be silver's time-traveling uber driver.

...right?

well, obviously. i'm not going to try and tell you that mephiles is secretly alive and shepherding silver back and forth between timelines for no reason. that's ridiculous. no, i'm going to try and tell you that silver is mephiles.

or rather, he's solaris. or RATHER, he's the new solaris, sorta-ascended to the role of Time God after the old one got blown out like a birthday candle.

like i said, i'm going wildly off the rails and as such don't have any concrete evidence to explain why it's this instead of something else, but hear me out. after elise blew out the flame of hope, the universe was left in an interesting situation. someone needs to be in charge of the flow of time, but the previous time-god was just unceremoniously destroyed. but all the power and energy of a time-god has to go somewhere, in some form, in some time.

with nothing else to go off of, the role of time-god starts flipping through every notable being it had interacted with. they're all solidly accounted for in the timeline, except for one. silver the hedgehog was born into a timeline that cannot exist. silver the hedgehog does not, and cannot exist. silver the hedgehog interacted quite a bit with both sides of solaris— he spent a substantial amount of time fighting back iblis, and associated with mephiles, even being one of the few people to directly experience his time travel abilities. silver the hedgehog tried and failed to absorb iblis into himself.

here's my theory: after sonic 06, the universe reasserted itself such that silver was the new Solaris. silver is not consciously aware that this is what he is, but he knows that he can time travel. sometimes the timeline will rearrange itself around silver. he is unaffected by this because he is a higher being unaffected by such petty trifles as "an origin" or "paradoxes".

silver the hedgehog probably doesn't have parents. he sprang into existence one day and everyone just kind of went with it, himself included.

oh also something i thought was neat but couldn't think of where to put:

[ID: More cropped dialogue, this time from Team Sonic Racing.

Silver: I'm fine. It's just, something bad is gonna happen. I can't explain it. I just feel it. Blaze: Have your travels through time given you precognition? Silver: I don't know. Maybe they have. Or maybe I'm just thinking too much.]

silver might be becoming psychic in a future-vision kinda way. that, or he’s riddled with anxiety. possibly both.

TL;DR

silver hails from no less than three separate timelines, his existence is a tangled web of who-knows-how-many grandfather paradoxes, and i choose to believe that he's god.

if anyone who cares more about evidence wants to gather up like, little one-off clues that support or conflict with my conclusions, go right ahead. or just throw your own arbitrary headcanons for what's going on with this at me. or incorporate these ideas into an au or something! i just want more people thinking about what the Fuck is up with silver post-06, because by god there is a WHOLE lot of potential packed in there

anyway thanks for reading make sure to like comment and subscribe—

[mittensmorgul]

Can’t everyone use tumblr how they want?

YES!

This site is exactly what people make of it for themselves. That was the exact point of that post. The fact that people reacted negatively to it at all proves my point. Seriously.

I have a number of other anons that are clearly from people who don't actually follow me, and are only here in a reactionary fashion having seen it on someone else's reblog, or else heard about it in passing and decided the best reaction to an ultimately harmless and rather bumbling post was to take personal offense and bring anonymous hate to a stranger on the internet. (and at least one not-anonymous "go kill yourself" type comment on the post itself)

THAT was the point of making that post.

For people who might be new to this fandom or new to tumblr in general (or even for people who have been here for years), your experience here is exactly what you make of it. I haven't seen that sort of vitriolic kneejerk reaction to anything I've written or posted in years. That post touched nerves. So it was a bit of an experiment, and I'm sorry to everyone who experienced any of that negativity second-hand. NOBODY should be made to feel like shit when engaging with something that is supposed to be fun. But I've learned over the years that that's exactly what some people consider fun.

There are new people to this fandom since the absolute free for all of the weeks after November 5th. We all reveled in those weeks before the show collapsed in on itself two weeks later. It was like 15 years worth of Hiatus Blogging followed by... well... some of the worst genuine hurt and disillusionment I've ever experienced or witnessed inflicted on a fandom by a piece of media.

There have to be at least a few people who floated into this fandom during that emotional roller coaster who want to make sense of it all, who were at least curious enough about how a show could've brought the characters to that emotional moment in 15.18 before effectively ignoring it all and burning the entire 15 year narrative to nothing just two episodes later.

Some folks stuck around to dig through the ashes of fandom in search of carrion, and that's fine. Some have zero desire to ever engage with the show or the fandom beyond mocking it for ever having existed at all, and that is also fine! But some folks? They might be wondering why anyone ever saw anything in this narrative to begin with, and they might be interested in knowing that there is this vast collection of information available to them (funny that none of my self-righteous anons even mentioned those, outside of one pointing out that my phrasing introducing that section of links was easily interpreted as condescending... which... yeah... again that was the point, and no I will not edit that language. none of us are free from sin).

Tumblr hasn't "changed." It was always this way. This site is not a monolith. Fandom is not a monolith. Even smaller groups within fandom aren't monoliths. Things that are considered "tumblr standard etiquette" do not exist across this entire website. And even within the supernatural fandom, and even within the tumblr-destiel-portion of the fandom there aren't "rules" dictating how you interact with anyone. Well, the one specific rule we should all be able to agree on is that you don't bring hate to real actual human beings, and yet...

There has ALWAYS been the option to engage with fandom here on whatever level an individual chooses. And that hasn't really changed since the finale aired. Anyone who thinks that Tumblr or the fandom has "evolved" or "changed" has likely just fallen in with a different fandom bubble then they'd existed within before. None of the bubbles have actually popped or disappeared. But which one you experience is entirely your own choice. You curate your experience here.

That was the point, illustrated by the vast array of comments I actually got on that post, structured with a little bit of everything including "tumblr mom from 2014." Everything pisses some people off, you know? Even the perception that some stranger on the internet might dare to lay down an arbitrary "rule" that zero people actually have to follow. See what I mean?

Because if any of the people who kneejerked at it actually followed me, or knew me at all, they wouldn't have kneejerked. They would've seen the point.

So your experience is what you make of it here. There are resources for people actually interested in engaging with the narrative or the fandom or the history of it. People mock "tumblr moms" or "fandom moms" all the time, but there wouldn't ~be~ a fandom without the people who actually build those resources. I.e. adults with the time, money, and personal investment in actually sustaining the fandom, instead of running around with torches trying to burn it down at every new whiff of perceived ~drama~ to latch on to.

For example, all of the scripts we've been acquiring and sharing with the entire fandom free of charge. I know that the fandom bubbles who seize on those scripts like hungry vultures to cough back up out of context "gotcha" posts postulating whatever theory of the differences between script and screen will dredge up the most drama or outrage in their fandom bubble... they haven't even considered how those scripts were acquired and made available to them. To them, they are "leaks." They are gifts that fell out of the sky and landed in their laps. There isn't even the barest curiosity about their origins or relevance beyond whatever social nourishment they derive by making up stuff and spouting it out with unearned authority. It's sad. But if that's how they enjoy the fandom, it's nice to remind them that none of the fandom they cannibalize would exist without the rest of us, too.

Yes, even the people you disagree with. Even the people who ship the things you find disgusting or repulsive. Even people who have an entirely different experience to your own. Even the people who are only here for those gotcha posts.

Fandom is not by nature a nihilistic shitshow, or no fandom would survive the amount of drama the 1% try to bring to it. Here have a fanlore article about this phenomenon. Right now, in Supernatural fandom, it feels like more than 1%, but I promise it really is only 1%. They're just really loud. There's actually other avenues to participatory fandom available to anyone who chooses to find them. Parts of this vast fandom that aren't focused on that 1% of reactionary leg-chewing at every turn. None of them are (as the linked article confirms) truly 100% free of unnecessary drama or bad behavior (including ME, I mean I MADE THAT POST!), but on tumblr you can curate your own experience. Fandom actually can be fun without burning down the thing you claim to be a fan of, or attacking other real human people for having the audacity to exist on the internet in a way you might believe is out of touch or pathetic. Seriously, nobody deserves to experience that from anyone over a fucking television show. Like seriously, take a step back and examine your life and your choices at that point.

Tumblr was exactly the same as a fandom community when I joined as it is now. Throughout my entire time here, I've curated my own personal experience to exactly what I derive the most personal satisfaction from. During that time I have had numerous friends and mutuals lament that their personal experience had become so toxic, but they were afraid to trim those blogs from their dash for fear of having no content left to engage with at all. For years there have been follow lists and blog recs and people desperate to find a more "peaceful and fun" fandom experience. People grow exhausted and embittered when their entire experience of fandom is an emotionally draining drama train. It's like pandemic doom scrolling, but for the thing that should be a respite from that sort of mindset, something that's supposed to be entertainment. The show did enough to us all, we don't have to turn around and re-inflict it on each other day in and day out on tumblr dot com.

So if even one person saw my post and thought well shit maybe I actually want to engage with a wider swath of fandom and see what's there, after seven months of post-finale drama, this whole other region of fandom is still here, still being the curators of the archives, the creators of stories and art and meta and gifs and videos and actually caring about it all that will keep this fandom going long after the current round of exhausting drama inevitably plays itself out.

The amount of in-group language in the negative replies I got was unsurprising. It's like folks are living in an alternate universe that doesn't mesh at all with what I experience on this exact same hellsite. Almost like we exist in entirely different bubbles of fandom, with entirely different purposes for existing at all. Everyone on this hellsite gets to pick which bubble (or bubbles) to take up residence in. Some people simply forget that their personal bubble isn't the universal defining experience of this site. Unfortunately, I doubt my little disruption to their bubbles will actually make any of them see that, but you anon... I think you did.

You are highly encouraged to engage with fandom EXACTLY THE WAY YOU CHOOSE. You have the ultimate power in controlling your entire experience here. Tumblr and Supernatural Fandom on tumblr is not Just One Thing that everyone who wants to participate in must conform to one specific code of ethics or behavior to be part of. And that NOBODY has the right to tell anyone else they're doing it wrong (including ME! I am 100% including myself in this!).

It's not MY job to dictate how anyone else experiences this fandom, as much as it was not the job of the people who reblogged my post (which I did not personally shove into their eyeballs with a demand for compliance... how did any of those people even *find* my post?) solely to tell me how *I* need to change how I experience the fandom, you see? Don'tcha love hypocrisy!

But the point was made for those who care, and a lot of people got to update their block lists (I still don't block anyone, as I said I curated my fandom space here and generally don't follow folks that don't personally make me happy and enrich my life by engaging with their content. However other people choose to engage with *my* content (any of it, going back nearly 50k posts over the last decade) is their business entirely. Sometimes I just feel the need to draw out people who are all too eager to expose their own whole asses in public. Mission accomplished.

[thewickedkings]

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 3

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

The car ride with Cardan was strangely quiet. Other than asking where she needed to be dropped off, Cardan remained silent. It seemed that besides arguing, they didn’t have much to say to each other.

The radio hummed in the background, and Jude let herself relax into her seat.

Cardan sat lazily in the driver’s seat, one hand draped on the wheel. With the afternoon sunlight highlighting the planes of his face, Jude glanced at Cardan and found herself strangely curious about his life. She wondered what he would do after dropping her off, how he spent his weekends, who he spent his weekends with.

She wondered if he was still dating Nicasia, the girl he had dated since sophomore year. She’d heard rumors they’d broken up. Nicasia was the only girl he’d ever seriously dated besides the series of girls he’d flirted with. She hated how easily they fell for his charm, but she knew better.

Jude shook the thoughts from her head, annoyed at herself for thinking about Cardan. It was probably the stress from the past week getting to her. Between school and soccer practice and now work, Jude’s semester had been jam-packed.

Once she got to college though, things would change. She would let herself make friends and have fun and be normal. She could reinvent herself as someone people could like. Then she would finally be happy, because it was a path for herself that she had paved on her own, that she had control of. For now, she would just trudge through high school so she could get into college and finally move out.

Cardan turned into the parking lot of the café, and Jude was suddenly overwhelmed with a random burst of apprehension. She had quit her last job at an ice cream parlor because of her coworker, Valerian. At first, he used her to blame for his own mistakes. And because she was new, the boss took his word. Then came the prickling glances and veiled threats, the lingering gazes on the back of her neck, watching her for any mistakes.

She remembered those fearful late nights when the store had emptied, leaving her alone with him, and shivered. Though she hadn’t let her fear show, it seeped through her veins, keeping her on high alert when she had shifts with him. She had hated the feeling of powerlessness, the inability to grasp control of the situation, and eventually quit before Valerian got her fired and ruined her future job prospects. She desperately wanted this job to be better.

Cardan parked the car, pulling her out of her anxious spiral. She fidgeted with the zipper on her wallet, not wanting to go inside just yet. For some reason, Cardan’s car seemed a better option than facing her first day at work.

Cardan turned to look at her expectantly, and Jude slid on her unworried, confident mask like a second skin. And yet she felt like his gaze could see right through her, see that what she showed to the world wasn’t always the truth.

She cleared her throat. “Thanks for driving me.”

“No problem.” He paused. “I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it.”

Her lips quirked up in a hint of a smile, slightly surprised that Cardan knew exactly what she needed to hear in that moment.

She exhaled, reached for the door handle, and stepped out. Cardan looked like he wanted to say more, but then closed his mouth. Suddenly feeling awkward, Jude quickly shut the door behind her with a quick “thanks again” and walked to the entrance.

 ~~~

Her first day at work was way better than she could have expected. Her boss told her to shadow her new coworker for her first few shifts until she got the hang of the job. Her coworker, who introduced herself as the Bomb, had a cloud of white hair that contrasted with her flawless brown skin, and she radiated a sense of genuineness that Jude instantly liked.

As she showed Jude how to make different beverages, Jude couldn’t help but ask, “So what’s with the name?” She winced, realizing how rude that had probably sounded. She definitely wasn’t a very good people person.

But the Bomb just smiled at her, unfazed. “Real name’s Liliver. I accidently, um, made the blender explode, as one does, so I got stuck with the Bomb,” she said sheepishly.

Jude snorted.

“I’m lucky I got a ‘cool’ one, I guess,” she continued. “You’ll meet my friends the Roach and the Ghost in your next shifts. It’s kind of our thing. Stay here long enough and you’ll get one too.”

Jude felt a little intimidated by their already established friendship, but the Bomb was nice enough, so she figured she wouldn’t hate working with the Roach and the Ghost.

After the Bomb went through the steps of a few of the most popular drinks, she demonstrated how to work the register as she took a customer’s order. Jude caught on pretty quickly, and the Bomb left her to man the register while she made some drinks.

She breathed in the comforting smell of coffee and let her nerves settle. She could get used to this place. The small store was the definition of cozy, with booths to the side and elegant greenery adorning the back wall of the shop. A couple students sat on the bar stools next to the counter, backpacks tucked underneath their seats.

The door to the coffee shop opened, and her eyes shifted to the guy with orangish brown hair who had just walked in.

He approached the counter, and Jude was surprised to realize it was Locke, one of Cardan’s lackeys. Jude automatically tensed. Although he hadn’t outright bullied her in middle school, he hadn’t opposed to it when Cardan and his friends did. He’d matured since then, at least from what Jude could tell, and mostly just left her alone.

Even though he was always the least cruel of Cardan’s little group, she was still surprised when he smiled at her and slid into the bar stool in front of her.

“Hey, Jude. Didn’t know you worked here.”

Jude was even more surprised that he recognized who she was so quickly. Most people from school just called her Duarte instead of trying to figure out which twin she was. “Yeah, it’s my first day. I haven’t really got the hang of making the drinks yet, but I can take your order.”

After Locke rattled off his order and paid, he took the bar stool nearest to her and said, “So, I saw your last soccer game. You literally saved the game with that last goal. Didn’t you were that good.”

Jude knew she was good, but she took the compliment anyway. “Thanks. I’ve been playing since freshman year, so you could say I’ve improved.”

“Yeah, you definitely have,” he replied, giving her a charming smile.

Jude’s brain came up with the sudden, unbidden realization that he was kind of cute. Distracted, she fumbled for a response. “Yeah, I guess.”

Before an awkward silence could set in, Locke asked, “So… how’s your history project coming along? You figure out what your topic is?”

Again, Jude was surprised he’d noticed they were in the same class. They literally never talked. “Yeah, Cardan and I figured out our outline.”

Locke’s eyebrows flew up. “I forgot you were working with him. How’s that going?”

Jude smiled at that. “It’s going. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I don’t know how long that will last.”

“I’m just surprised you didn’t already murder him.”

Jude let out a laugh at that. “I mean, we’ll see. We still have the rest of the semester.”

Locke grinned at her, and Jude’s neck heated. Before she could think of what that meant, the Bomb called her.

“Jude, drink’s ready!”

Jude walked across to her to get Locke’s coffee.

The Bomb leaned over her and asked her in a low voice, “Who’s the guy?”

“Just someone I know from school. We’ve never really talked until now.”

“Well, he’s clearly interested.”

Jude looked up at her, surprised. “Really?”

“I’ve seen so many meet cutes here that I’ve practically become an expert.”

Jude looked at her incredulously. “You could tell he was interested from one two-second conversation?”

The Bomb just rolled her eyes at her and pushed her back towards Locke. “Trust me. Now go, before it becomes obvious we’re talking about him.”

Jude walked back over to Locke and handed him the drink.

“Thanks.” He got up and picked up his keys. “I’ll see you at your game next week?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

He shot her a smile over his shoulder as he walked out the café.

Jude took the next customer’s order with a newfound spirit, and the Bomb smirked at her knowingly. Maybe this job wouldn’t be too bad after all.

Here’s chapter three!! Let me know what you think :) Yes, yes, I know, Locke sucks, but we’ll get some good JurdanTM content next chapter. Thanks for reading!

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon as I can!)

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[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    3/?

On tumblr : Part 1 here  and Part 2 here

This chapter is more than 3000 words so if you want to read it on Ao3 click here.

The changed relationship between Catalina and Katherine remains pretty much a secret, even if not on purpose. It's just that nothing really changes for them. They are already living together (they will realise later on that nobody mentions it because they don’t know). Katherine calls Catalina mum or mamá only occasionally, and only when they are alone. She is working on the irrational fear that by showing how close they are, how much she loves Catalina, she will somehow lose her, but habits are hard to break. And while it always gives them a thrill to refer to the other as their mother/daughter, it’s something rarely needed as they don’t meet that many new people. Their now legal bond is as cherished as much as it is not talked about.

If you were to ask them why they never said anything to the other queens, they would just reply that it simply never came up. And it’s not like they don’t talk to the others. Things are much more relaxed since moving out. Distance and space definitely made for better relationships in their case. Of course, some grow closer more than others. Katherine, in particular, made an effort to stay in touch with all the others and build a relationship with every single one, but she quickly made it an unofficial rule not to talk about the other queens. Tired to spend half of their meetups providing updates about the others, she had finally sent a message to the group chat very politely saying that if they wanted to know how someone was doing they should ask the person in question and not her.

And it’s on that very group chat that Cathy requests a meeting, the first time they would get all together since they moved out of their shared house.

They are catching up when Catalina speaks up. ‘Not that this isn’t nice-’

‘Try not to sound so surprised. I’m a freaking delight to be around.’  

Catalina’s glare at Anne lacks any heat. Just because she made Katherine laugh. You are supposed to be merciful towards the court buffoon, after all. It’s not like she suddenly likes her.

‘But is there a specific reason we are all here or....?’ all remaining chatter peters out  and attention turns to Cathy.

‘Have you looked...read what they say about us? Yourself,’ she corrects herself. They have a sort of implicit agreement not to look into each other’s lives. As much as possible, at least, considering how interconnected some of their stories are.

Everyone nods, mood getting sombre.

‘From your faces I guess you don’t necessarily like what you found?’

‘It’s not about liking. Some things are just plain wrong.’ Jane’s comment gets another round of nods.

‘I agree. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you...Since we got a second chance, why don’t we make things right. Tell people what really went down. Like, I was not a glorified, old nursemaid.’

‘I was not ugly.’

‘You have always been stunning.’

Anna’s scowl turns into a soft smile towards Katherine.

‘I was not a witch. And I had a normal amount of fingers. And I definitely never did anything weird with my brother and-’

‘We get it, babe.’

Everyone – Catalina included – stops, surprised by the term of endearment. Maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder.

‘What if we could change that?’ Cathy jumps in, recovering. ‘If history remembers us wrong, we have the chance to make it right. Give our own version of the facts.’

‘I thought we were not supposed to talk about it? Like, tell people who we are?’ Jane points out. ‘We made a deal.’

‘A limited-time deal.’ It’s Anna who seems to catch on what Cathy is saying. There is still quite some time before it expires, but still...

‘Exactly. And when the gag order is done...I think it’s time we speak up.’

‘How?’

Everyone nods. They are not against it in principle, not at all, but they haven’t actually thought about the possibility before, so it’s a brand-new concept for them.

‘At first I thought about writing a book.’

‘Of course, you did.’

It might actually work, Cathy thinks looking at the queens, who all said it at the same time and are now sharing amused glances. And she’ll happily takes the teasing if that is what is needed.

‘But then I thought...how many people are actually going to read it? And what kind of people?’ Cathy continues. ‘I would like to think that nobody already interested in...history? The period? Us?...well, actually believes that Anne was a witch, for example. What we need is to change popular misconceptions and as much as it pains me to say it, I don’t think books would do the job. Then I thought...interviews. They surely would have more reach. But how would we choose? How many? Would we have control over the questions? And then Kat gave me the perfect idea. A fun, engaging one to take control of our narratives.’

‘Me?’ the youngest queen asks surprised.

‘Hamilton.’ It’s all Cathy says.

Catalina groans. ‘She got you too?’

Cathy has to guess that she has been subjected to the topic one too many times (Cathy doesn’t know that in the Trastámara house there is a limit of once a day per soundtrack...because Catalina appreciates music as any normal person does or even more, but Katherine gets obsessed. For weeks she had listened to those 46 songs – yes, she counted them – on repeat, and she had to put a stop to it. Once a day is enough, thank you very much). The other queens are nodding, so it seems that everyone has at least heard Kat talking about it.

‘You want to write a musical about ourselves?’ Anne asks, sounding intrigued.

‘I want us to write it. But yes. If we do it well, it would have a bigger audience than an interview or a book could ever reach.’

‘Except that not anyone can write a musical.’ Anna points out, sceptical.

‘I seem to remember some people having quite the musical skills.’ Cathy didn’t read up on the others, but being the last queen means that she had heard stuff about her predecessors. And while she knows to take with a pinch of salt (or a whole handful of it) what people were saying, even at the time, she doesn’t think that would be something worth lying about. What’s the point of spreading false rumours about Catherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn being accomplished musicians and talented singers? Cathy herself had vocal and instrumental music training, just like them and Kat too.

Cathy chances a glance at the youngest queen. Hopefully the others will think that it’s knowledge from the past – which mainly is – and not related to anything Kat had shared with her. Like the fact that despite some hang-ups, she had decided to take up music again, not wanting bad memories to ruin forever something she loved. She had started with the ukulele figuring it was the most similar she could get to a lute, before moving to guitar. Then on keyboard…money and space wise a piano was just not feasible for where she lived, Kat had explained. Similar issues, along with the noise, are the ones keeping her away from drums (Catalina has been extremely supportive but putting up with her learning how to play drums might be a bit too much even for her). So she had settled on a woodwind instrument as the next one to pick up. Kat credits her past life’s experiences with flute, lute and virginal, and the wonders of internet for her ability to teach herself. She is even considering whether going for it more seriously. Well, not that she isn’t taking it seriously now, she spends long hours practicing, but more like...academically or professionally. They had various conversations about it, about her maybe joining a school or getting a degree or if she should just try to get a jig or something like that. Cathy won’t lie and say that their chats didn’t play a part in her proposing the musical idea, knowing that at least one of them had enough music knowledge and talent in this new life of theirs to pull it off, but she isn’t sure how much Kat had told the others so she doesn’t want to bring it up if Kat doesn’t.

While Catalina and Kat are looking thoughtful, and Anne interested, Jane and Anna still look unconvinced.

‘We can always ask for professional help.’ Cathy concedes. ‘But we should be the one deciding what to say. That’s the whole point. Let’s just try writing something. Ideas. What we want people to know. Type of music. Inspirations. Then we can see what we have and go from there.’

‘What are you proposing exactly?’

‘Let’s try to write a song each.’

.

They all agreed on going in order but now Catalina is deeply regretting it. Because she has to stand up in front of the others and tell them that she doesn’t have her song ready. She has been dreading the meeting. She knows she doesn’t have to be perfect all the time in this life lest something terrible happens. She knows she can’t be perfect all the time. But she still feels uncomfortable showing any kind of weakness. Especially in front of her fellow queens. And the only one whom she allowed herself to be vulnerable with is not currently there. Katherine had texted the group chat saying that she was on her way but was going to be late. Indeed, the catching up part is now over and all the attention shifts to Catalina.

‘So...’ Queens do not fidget. That has been drilled into her and any instinct to do it eradicated centuries ago, which is the only reason she is not fidgeting as everyone looks at her. ‘I have some words,’ she doesn’t dare to call them lyrics, ‘but I don’t really have anything music-wise.’

‘I do!’ Kat bursts into the room, panting. ‘Sorry I’m late, I lost track of time.’

‘You do?’

Kat smiles at Catalina sheepishly. ‘I had some ideas when you showed me what you wrote and thought I’d try them out. I wanted it to be a surprise, but not like this. I was planning to let you listen to it first, but I sort of just finished it? That’s why I was late. Of course, you don’t have to like it. Or listen to it at all. You know what? Let’s forget about it. I’m sure you’ll come up with something much better yourself and you don’t need-’

‘Breathe.’ Catalina waits until she sees the girl taking a couple of deep breaths, short-winded both from running there and then her ramblings. ‘Let’s hear my song.’

‘Are you sure? Because-’

‘I trust you.’ She does. Katherine has talent, she knows it better than anyone else. She is the one witnessing the ease with which she picks up new instruments or how she can play music by ear after listening to it a handful of times. The one who has the privilege to listen to her playing and singing around the house (and now she knows why lately it had happened less, if Katherine had been working on the song for her). But most importantly she trusts her because Katherine knows her. Better than anyone else. She knows her tastes, musical ones included. And she knows her story. Her side of the story.

Katherine takes out her laptop. ‘It’s quite rough, obviously. And the key is-’

‘Just let us hear it.’

Kat nods. She looks down at the papers full of scribbles in front of her. Takes a breath. Then starts the music.

You must agree that, baby, in all the time I’ve been by your side I've never lost control, no matter how many times I knew you lied Have my golden rule Got to keep my cool, yeah, baby

And even though you've had your fun Running around with some pretty young thing And even though you've had one son With someone who don't own a wedding ring No matter what I heard, I didn't say a word No, baby

Katherine looks at Catalina to gauge her reaction at the first part of the song. She has a small smile and she is nodding to the rhythm. Encouraging.

I've put up with your sh- like every single day But now it's time to shh, and listen when I say

It’s Katherine’s spin on Catalina’s words. She isn’t sure she will want to leave the ‘swear’ in, but she just had to do it and try. She knows it’s not something people would expect from the first queen, but she had in mind the Catalina she knows rather than the one people think they know. And her Catalina is not shy about swearing as long as they are alone.

You must think that I'm crazy You wanna replace me, baby there's N-n-n-n-n-n-no way If you think for a moment I'd grant you annulment, just hold up, there's N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

She had needed something to make the tempo works, and then she had remembered Catalina calling Anne babe during the last meeting, and she decided to try it out. Also it makes for a slightly condescending tone towards Henry, calling him baby, which Katherine likes and thinks Catalina will do too.

So you read a bible verse that I'm cursed 'Cause I was your brother's wife You say it's a pity 'cause quoting Leviticus "I'll end up kiddy-less all my life" Well, daddy, weren't you there, when I gave birth to Mary?

That had been a struggle to work out, but Katherine had really wanted to include it because it was so important. The reason Henry adduced seeking the annulment was completely unfounded and people had to know it.

You're just so full of sh-, must think that I'm naive I won't back down won't shh, and no, I'll never leave

You must think that I'm crazy You wanna replace me, baby, there's N-n-n-n-n-n-no way If you thought it'd be funny, to send me to a nunnery, honey, there's No way

Catalina doesn’t seem to hate it and the others are nodding along to the beat, Katherine notices as she looks up from her notes.  There will be work to be done for sure, but maybe they have a good starting point.

‘Dance break?’ Katherine speaks up as the music continues.

‘You always loved a good dance.’ Anne points out, remembering her time at court with her, Jane nodding along.

It’s true. What they don’t know is that she had taken it up again. Encouraged by Katherine pursuing her love for music, she had decided to do the same with her passion for dancing. It’s not something she could see herself doing seriously as Katherine does with playing instruments, but she is loving attending classes and practicing on her own in the privacy of their living room, sometimes making up new routines, sometimes involving Katherine when she needs a partner.

You got me down on my knees Please tell me what you think I've done wrong Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along If you can just explain a single thing I've done to cause you pain, I'll go No? You've got nothing to say? I'm not going away

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life

Catalina had considered herself married and the legitimate queen until her last days…and Katherine with her. It’s only recently that she had considered how her life would have been different – if at all – had she joined Anne’s household like her step-grandmother had been planning. She is quite sure that at the time she would have been less than happy to be around the ‘usurper’ of what she still thought of as her queen, even months after her death.

There's no way

‘Not sure about the end. Maybe another chorus? Or...I don’t know. Like I said, it’s quite rough, I rushed it a bit, especially the last part, I can think about it more and see-’

‘This is rough?!?’

‘Well...yeah? I just took what she wrote and tried to put it in music, but it could be so much better. Like harmonies! Or, you know, add stuff, take it out...change it completely if you don’t like it.’ She is now talking to Catalina.

‘Some bits and bobs, but honestly? I loved it.’

‘Really?’

‘Do I make a habit to say things I don’t mean?’ Catalina looks at her with a raised eyebrow. She shakes her head with a smile at the mumbled sorry she gets.

‘How did you do it?’ Anne interrupts the exchange. ‘Like, the backing track?’

‘Oh. Well, I recorded each instrument separately. Then overlapped the individual tracks. Which was honestly the hardest part. Learning how to use the software.’

‘Would you mind giving me a hand?’ Anne asks her cousin. ‘Once I have the lyrics down, I mean. I’ve been messing around with a keyboard and got myself a guitar, but it was going to be a stripped-down version, like, acoustic, with whatever it worked better for the song. But if you can do the other instruments and put everything together...’

‘Of course! Just let me know what you need and when!’  

‘I might look into some practice rooms. Possibly with instruments. I’ve been dying to get my hands on some drums!’

‘Me too!’

‘Really?’ Catalina hopes her dread isn’t too obvious. She isn’t going to stop her, but she isn’t looking forward to it, if she has to be honest.

‘It’s not going to happen, don’t have the space. Or soundproofing.’ Kat reassures her.

‘We can learn together!’

‘I have been thinking...about a possible structure.’ Cathy says, encouraged by the enthusiasm of the cousins. ‘We said one song each, then I’m thinking maybe one for introduction and one as conclusion? An introductory song to explain what we’re doing? And one last song so that we don’t end with my song. Kind of a final message? About us reclaiming our stories or something?’

‘We could sing them all together!’

‘Oh!’ Kat perks up at Anna’s words. ‘We could add some chorus and stuff in Catalina’s song, like backup singers?, so that it’s not just her singing and us waiting around-’

‘Wait. Her. US? Are we supposed to sing ourselves?’ Jane stops her.

‘I thought so?’ Kat looks around. Jane does the same. It does seem like that’s what the others thought too.

‘Let’s worry about that later.’ Cathy can see that Jane is not particularly convinced about that, but she doesn’t want her to worry about it now. ‘We can get professional singers just like we can get professional writers, if needed.’

‘Another thing…not sure if it’s relevant now, because Kat sort of already did it. But I was going to say that we should make it modern?’ Anna suggests. ‘If it’s just a history lesson, it’s gonna be boring. Not saying that Catalina’s song was boring. At all. But. I don’t know. It’s something I wanted to bring up before hearing it, so...’ she shrugs.

Upon Catalina’s suggestion, they agree on not having set deadlines for when a queen is supposed to deliver her song. It had stressed her out quite a lot having to come up with something by a fixed date, especially when she couldn’t. And without a delivery deadline, Kat would have had the time to show her what she was doing, and they could have worked on it together. They are going to do it now, so it’s not that much a problem, but there is no reason they have to do things in a hurry.

 ________________________

As usual, started as something turned out so much more…included a take on how the musical was born. I always love reading fics about it…guess it was inevitable I’d take my shot at it too. I don’t know much about music and I’m aware that’s probably not how writing a musical works…but this is fiction so please bear with me.

[struwwelzeter]

So I read your reply to Nyarisu's comment on Lionheart and I'm really intrigued by your comments about how people understand punk compared to what it was initially. Could I possibly ask you to expand on this? Pretty please?

Yes you could! This is a very (very?) personal point of view and I know a lot of people will disagree, but here goes nothing, I guess. If you disagree with me (and somebody will), that’s fine, but I will not engage with anything that’s not a constructively put argument. I’ve spend too much time thinking about this for a “I don’t like what you’re saying and that’s why you’re wrong” anon to change my mind. Just putting that out there - with love 💜.

The thing is, especially on tumblr but I think just in generally aswell, the idea of punk is presented as this ... Robin Hood kind of thing. Beat the system, stand up to bullies, live your own truth, all of that, but it always is presented as something that is supposed to come from a ... dare I say, nice place? Like those pictures of people in studded and sprayed leather jackets rescuing puppies. All of that, you know? And I don’t want to say that is wrong, because it isn’t, and I love the idea of that, it’s just not the entire truth.

Especially in the early to mid 70s, when arguably punk started, there was a lot of fatigue between an old and stuffy establishment and the lovey, dovey peace and love “let’s all be happy” movement of the hippie scene. I was at Force Attack in 2006, which is a punk festival (and possibly dirtiest place in the world) that got established in the early 90s and went on til 2008 (?), and even then some of the “death to hippies” sentiments ran pretty deep. And I know the counter argument to that will be a well meaning “well, that’s not real punk,” the problem is that I think it actually partly is. (Please keep the partly in mind for the rest of this argument.)

The problem with having the exact choice between “get a good job, built a nice house, think of what the neighbours will say, and don’t ask me about what I did in the war” and “we’re all a big part of one human family, and isn’t nature beautiful, lets all make peace, and btw we would have never done what our parents did” is that both models aren’t a sustainable life style for everyone. That’s why you get alot of people saying this is all fake bullshit, and they start being purposely offensive. This is why you get alot of Swastikas around the sex pistols, you get all these artists singing about suicide and incest and rape. It’s not that uncommon for some of those early acts to play with Nazi imagery, or claim that homosexuality is disgusting (despite the scene always being full of LGBTQ+ people), or idk, thinking it’s fun to piss on someone while they’re asleep. It’s alot of outcry, of saying life actually is this shitty and disgusting and I am gonna be that because in a way you will hate me either way. And it’s not always nice. Disdain and hate and petty selfishness are common human emotions and many of them are low and unhealthy, and honestly not nice or helpful or inclusive, but they are there, and I think alot of that early spirit was just about stopping to pretend that they don’t exist.

I think a reason for why we don’t think of the scene that way anymore is that many people very quickly outgrew that, and said “actually, we’re better than that, that’s not who we actually are. I sadly can’t find that interview right now, but Die Ärzte are actually a good exemple of that and they even admit it themselves, that there was a sense of “enough with the happy hippie bullshit, let’s disgust them” and then later going “uhmm - maybe that went a bit far.” I mean offensive or not, but ultimately a scene that is centered around artistic expression always ends with that question of creation, maybe like “if the world isn’t like what we want it to be, how do we make one we like?” - and then you end up with having to come up with answers that are more than just destruction. And then it turns into something else - something that I think is alot more like what tumblr seems to think punk is. And that’s a wonderful thing. Still - a side of punk, whatever that is, has always been what people like GG Allin (please read the wiki for context) have taken and pushed to the limits, and it just - isn’t nice. And here is where things get a bit tricky.

Because against that backdrop, things like John Lydon (Johnny Rotten) suddenly being a dirty old Trump supporter aren’t that surprising anymore. And then you get these 20 year olds “cancelling” the Sex Pistols, and I think there is just a bit of ... missing the point going on. I’ve read a comment on here recently, that basically said something like Richard should stop supporting the Sex Pistols (because he has that album in the back of the studio), and it’s just ... asking for a history to be erased that has rightfully been made obsolete but has still happened and was necessary at the time. You can take any of these early bands and pick their lyrics apart and find something that from our perspective now is disgusting, mean, exclusive, or outright racist. Songs about Fucking? Part of that record is a mysogynisy shitshow, something they were very aware of even at the time, and they still did it anyway because being disgusting was part of the point. The thing is though, the Sex Pistols were hugely influential, and alot of the positive things that grew out of that wouldn’t have been possible if kids like young Richard, or any of the bands you love that were influenced by them, wouldn’t have gotten that moment of “finally a place where I can put all of my petty hate”. It matters, and just because that moment is overcome, it doesn’t mean it should be forgotten, or stops existing in the people that lived through it.

I understand that the question of how much we should justify things with “it was the time” and how we deal with the result is an ever ongoing debate and their are many good arguments for why maybe we shouldn’t try to defend the wrongs of the past that way, and I want to point out that while I rarely agree on that in the first place (because I understand history as a natural learning curve where people aren’t perfect at the first try and it’s doing a disservice to humans just doing their best, but I digress and that’s a bit of another duscussion), I want to point out that I don’t want to defend anyone, rather I want to say “actually, being that horrible was often calculated, part of the point, and if you don’t like it, just leave it, fight it or debate it, but don’t pretend like it was a “missstep” or just a few black sheep of a scene that was never as nice or perfect as you want it to be.” You don’t get to erase half of a movement simply because you wish it wouldn’t exist the way it does - or well. I guess in this case mostly did - past tense.

The ugliness is part of the story to me, and it’s actually the bigger part of why I love this scene. I don’t need “punk” to define my politics, I need it to soothe my soul, and so did many, I think. The Sex Pistols breaking happened 20 years before my time, but I still feel connected to that world, and in particular the ugly parts of it. I often feel like I look at the world, and there are people that seem honestly shocked by the idea that maybe sometimes I find doing the right thing really hard, that I want petty, self serving revenge, that I don’t find it easy to not be selfish and unkind or sometimes want to hurt people because I am hurting myself and see an opportunity to do that. Obviously those aren’t nice things and I don’t want to be that way, but are you honestly telling me you don’t feel that? I find that hard to believe, and it leaves me with an ongoing question of if I am just worse than most people or if most people are just more fake. Both scenarios are equally shit. The ugly side of punk provides - not an answer to that - but maybe a partial solution, at least for me.

Another discussion we have all the time is about how what we consume or allow in artistic expression is influencing how we act as people in real life and how we want the world to be. Where do we draw the line? What is still ok? If I put me entertaining ideas about murder on a canvas, is that still good? what if it’s racism? What if it’s rape? We argue alot about how providing a safe space in art for those feelings is actually preventing us from acting on it in real life, how it’s an outlet of something we would never actually want or do, but then where is the limit to that? I am putting this intentionally controversial, but if we admit that most of us grow up with internalized racism and mysogyny, by that logic, why can’t I paint something that is blatantly hateful if I have those feelings? Maybe that is my way of fighting it, you don’t have to look at it? Not saying that’s what I am doing or would want to do, but what if? For some people Rammstein singing about not wanting to be Angels is crossing that line, for some of us that line is drawn alot later. Who is right? Isn’t that just personal sensitivity? Can you honestly rationalise that? Isn’t it just processing our different levels of petty hate in different ways? I don’t have the answers to any of that, it’s just questions I often have and that I think have to do with this, because alot of the nasty bits in punk will justify it exactly that way, as artistic expression. Alot of it isn’t as political as this scene is made out to be, it’s simply asking those things. I personally relate to that alot, as someone who arguably would draw the line of “we should stop doing this” in art very, very, very late - and certainly later than my own personal comfort zone.

I’m not sure if any of this makes any sense at all. I hope it does - and if it doesn’t it’s probably because I don’t know either, or because I don’t want to fully blow this up into an essay (sorry, too late?) or because I suck at making a point, or maybe because we simply disagree. All I know is that I sometimes see these posts of “what is punk and what isn’t” and it leaves me with this taste of “you’re describing a utopia and it’s cute and I want that too, but it’s not everything punk as I know it is, and it feels like you don’t want to see something that mattered too - even if it was brutal and disgusting.” And everytime I see it I feel alien, like something that mattered to me so much as a teenager and young adult gets taken away from me and made into something so sleek and pretty it becomes something unattainable to be that I simply don’t manage to live up to in the way I would like. I guess that is a petty, selfish way of looking at it too.

«It's a repressive society where you can't be horrible, I'm not horrible, they made me horrible, I'm just honest.»

- John Lydon

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH2

Thank you all so much for 3.5k (and growing)! You are all so wonderful, and I’m glad that you all enjoy my content enough to stick around and follow. I have a lot of plans for the future, and I just hope that you all will like them! Here is part two of this next spite filled adventure.

The opening scene and really this whole fic were inspired by lenore’s post from forever ago after Chameleon came out so shouts out! Also, I know several of you wanted me to tag you when I updated this, and I will do my best to get everyone, but I suggest getting an AO3 account and subscribing to the fic there instead. You’ll get an email whenever I update, and I always post on AO3 first before tumblr. 

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Chapter 2

“You know, when you made these plans with Adrien, I thought you meant to be nice,” Tikki said chidingly in the bathroom as Marinette washed her hands several days later.

“I am being nice,” Marinette said with an innocent pout.

“You put a ‘Coping with loss’ book on Lila’s desk yesterday.”

“She said her hamster died.”

“And the safety glasses by the napkins in the cafeteria?” Tikki cocked a brow.

“Max was worried about losing an eye.”

“You did your science presentation on tinnitus.”

“Well, after the music festival with Juleka’s mom, I was worried about our hearing.” Marinette snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands.

“Your history report on the greatest liars and cheats in history?”

“I became fascinated with P.T. Barnum’s life after that movie and finishing with a comparison of Volpina and Rena Rouge was just a modern-day example everyone could identify with.” Tikki gave her a look. “I got a standing ovation for that presentation.”

“What about the fact-checking robot you petitioned Max to make?”

“For Alya for her birthday! I’m just trying to help her become a better journalist because I’m a good friend.” Marinette placed her hands on her hips haughtily.

“Speaking of Alya, you’ve been telling her to just hang out with Nino lately.”

“She said she wanted to spend more time with him. I’m just being supportive of their relationship,” she shrugged.

“Marinette,” Tikki sighed.

“What? We can’t expose Lila, so we’re just playing along until she inevitably exposes herself which I will watch probably with popcorn,” Marinette said with a laugh. “It’s called kill em with kindness.”

“It’s called being petty.”

“Semantics,” Marinette waved it away, but Tikki was unamused. “Look, I can’t beat Lila at lies. She just makes more, so I’ve come up with another plan that doesn’t harm anyone and keeps everyone from getting mad at me for calling her out. I mean, you saw what happened the other day when she got me expelled. Scarlet Moth almost made a comeback, and I was on the frontlines.”

“I guess we can’t let that happen again…” Tikki reasoned, tapping her chin.

“Exactly. Lila wants everyone to believe those things, so I’m just gonna let her keep falling down the rabbit hole until she eventually hits the bottom,” Marinette said with a twisted grin. “If I happen to push her a little deeper along the way then so be it.”

“That’s very underhanded of you, Marinette.”

“I don’t like it when people use my friends and threaten me.” Marinette clenched her fists. “She almost got me akumatized multiple times now, and we can’t ever let that happen.”

“You’re right. Just be careful,” Tikki advised.

“Don’t worry, Tikki. Coming up with solutions is my superpower.” She winked as her phone buzzed in her pocket with an akuma alert. “Speaking of, we have a city to save. Tikki, transform me!”

***

“Ladybug!” Alya waved her down after the battle, brandishing her cell phone. “Do you have time for a quick interview?”

“A little,” she said with a shrug. “Make it quick.”

“Okay, okay, many of my viewers want to know what advice you have to help people stay positive to avoid being akumatized,” Alya began, pressing record.

“Well, I would recommend changing your perspective a little. Instead of being bummed out about failing a test, maybe commit to studying harder next time. If you get into a fight with your friends, just take a deep breath and remember that if they’re your real friends, they’ll forgive you.” Ladybug replied, placing her hands on her hips. “And if you do get akumatized, don’t make a big deal out of it. Chat Noir and I will always be there to save you. Negative emotions are a part of life just like positive ones, and everyone can have a bad day, even me.”

“Next question, with the passing of Hero’s Day, my viewers want to know what they can do to help you and Chat Noir.”

“Just do your best every day. Lift each other up instead of tearing each other down and do your best to help others who need it,” she said with a smile.

“My friend Marinette is like that, always helping others and helping us stay positive,” Alya remarked, and Ladybug bit back a smirk.

“I think I’ve met her a few times. She’s alerted me of a few akumas here and there.” She tapped her chin with a coy smile. “Not everyone has superpowers like me and Chat Noir, but there are a lot of ways to help out in your school, in your community, or even in your own home just like your friend. I think that everyone should strive to be a Marinette.”

She pressed a hand to her earrings as they beeped and palmed her yoyo, flashing Alya a peace sign. “Gotta go before I change back.”

“Thank you for your time, Ladybug!” Alya bounced on her heels, clutching her phone to her chest as Ladybug tossed her yoyo over the roof.

“Bug out!”

***

When Lila walked through the doors of the library that afternoon, she stopped short when her eyes locked with Marinette’s sitting at the table with Max. They held that same taunting innocence that made Lila’s blood boil, and she knew this was another one of her “nice” schemes.

“Oh, Lila, there you are,” she greeted with a smile, and Lila did her best to suppress an eye roll. “You haven’t been doing so well in class, so I’ve asked everyone to pitch in helping you catch up. Max is here to help you with your maths and science, Rose has agreed to help you with Literature, Sabrina can help you out with history, and then Nathaniel said he would be more than happy to help you with the art project we have due next week.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Adrien agreed to help me,” Lila said, waving it away. “He should be here any minute.”

“Actually, he had a pop-up fencing lesson with Kagami this afternoon. She insisted because her mother is so hard on her to improve her technique, and Adrien is the only opponent who challenges her enough, so he just couldn’t say no,” Marinette explained.

“Adrien does score well across the board on all of his exams; however, his schedule guarantees an 87.96% chance that you won’t get sufficient help in order to pull your grades up in time, so Marinette reached out to the rest of us to step in on his behalf so you don’t fail the semester,” Max stated, and Marinette smiled sweetly beside him.

“As class representative, I’m just looking out for the needs of everyone,” she said, standing up. “Thanks again for your help, Max.”

“No problem, Marinette.” Max waved it away. “Oh, and I will have prototype designs for that software you asked me for later this week.”

“Awesome! You’re the best, Max!” Marinette clasped her hands together cheerfully. “Good luck, Lila, and let me know if you need any more help.”

Lila offered her a forced smile before her face fell into a scowl.

“Have fun at movie night!” Max called, waving as she left.

“Movie night?” Lila quirked a brow.

“Yes, many of our classmates are convening to watch movies at Kim’s house this evening, but seeing as it’s a movie I’ve already seen, I agreed to help you catch up on your studies tonight instead,” Max explained, pulling out his textbooks. “I’ve assembled 100 maths problems for us to work covering each section of material that you missed while you were traveling then I have a PowerPoint reviewing over our particle physics unit from last term-”

Lila glared at the door Marinette had gone through, gripping her pencil with white knuckles. She wasn’t quite sure what game Marinette was playing with her, but she was definitely up to something. No matter, she wasn’t about to be defeated so easily. After all, she had Gabriel Agreste on her side.

***

“How did Lila react to Max?” Adrien asked as Marinette grabbed a juice from the snack table.

“She looked half ready to strangle me,” Marinette replied, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“There isn’t going to be a lot I can do if my father decides to use her in photoshoots again, but I’ll help you in any way that I can outside of that,” he said, grabbing a cookie.

“What are you two whispering about?” Alya asked with a smirk, and they both stiffened.

“Uh, I was just asking Marinette if she wanted to sit with me during the movie,” Adrien said, nudging Marinette with his elbow.

“Y-Yeah, I- of course. You don’t mind, do you, Alya?” Marinette fumbled, and her friend gave a proud beam.

“Not at all. I was actually on my way to tell you that I want to sit with Nino.” She winked.

“Great. Then it’s settled.” Adrien waved as they moved to their bean bags.

“How did she sneak past your father anyway? I thought he was some impenetrable wall?” She asked, and Adrien threw his head back with a sigh.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Is it wrong I kind of wish she’d teach me?” He chuckled, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.

“Your dad let you come to this, didn’t he?” Marinette pointed out, but Adrien averted his gaze guiltily.

“I’m technically supposed to be meeting with my Chinese tutor right now, but I may have told him I lost my voice while also telling Gorilla that this was his address,” Adrien admitted, tapping his chin with an impish grin.

“Sneaky,” Marinette complimented, but he curled his shoulders.

“I feel kind of bad disobeying him, but all I want to do is see my friends. What’s so wrong with that?” He shrugged, and Marinette offered him a smile.

“Nothing, and I’m sure your dad will come around eventually,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Marinette. I really hope so.” He smiled weakly, his gaze softening on her. “You really are the kindest girl at school. Lila won’t know what hit her.”

Marinette bit back a smile, cheeks pink and heart pounding.

“Ya know, Adrien, maybe if your dad ever allows it we could-”

“Lila, Max, you made it!” Kim called, and Marinette felt her blood run cold.

“I’m a really fast learner,” Lila said, shooting Marinette a pointed glare, and her jaw clenched as Nathalie entered through the doorway beside her. “Oh, Adrien, I ran into Nathalie on the way over. She was worried about where you were, so I told her we could check here for you.”

“Adrien, you’re supposed to be at Chinese right now,” Nathalie scolded, and Adrien stiffened, face falling. “If you come now, I won’t tell your father about this.”

“Yes, Nathalie,” he said glumly, shooting Marinette an apologetic wince. “I’ll see you at school.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I didn’t realize you’d get in trouble.” Lila winced, pressing a hand to her lips in an ‘oops’ manner. “Nathalie said your father was worried.”

“It’s okay, Lila. It’s my fault,” Adrien said as he passed, head hung low as he made his way out with Nathalie.

When the door closed behind them, Lila curled her shoulders and turned to everyone with a pout.

“I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined everything. I didn’t realize that Adrien was here without permission,” she said, covering her face.

“Don’t sweat it, Lila. You didn’t know,” Nino assured her, and she peeked over her hands.

“I hope he doesn’t get into too much trouble,” she fretted, but Nino waved it away.

“Nah, Nathalie totally sticks up for him. If she says she won’t tell, then she won’t,” he said, and Lila relaxed a little.

“That’s a relief,” she sighed.

“Well, since Adrien had to bounce, why don’t you take his seat next to Marinette? You two have been getting along so great lately,” Alya suggested, pointing to the empty beanbag beside Marinette, and Lila flicked her gaze to meet Marinette’s with a grin.

“Do you mind, Marinette?” She asked, a challenging glint in her eye as if to say, ‘your move.’

“Not at all.” Marinette smiled sweetly as Lila paced over to sit down, and her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Adrien.

Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us.

Marinette glanced at Lila out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Rose about Kitty Section before typing a quick reply.

So it would seem.

*sigh here we go*

Tagging: @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @sam-spectra @posyfoot @captain-rice @aloeveraspeaks @somethingelsefine @crazylittlemunchkin @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @rlv29 @kaleigh-girlonfire @kokoa-vb @fanwarrior-at-your-service @liebredavinci @starberry-mina @dalandana @rose-sparks13 @foreverblindedbystars @a-6-yearold-inside @redheadeddemon16 @deerestaurelia @graduatedmelon @janaikam @zatanni @shamefulllove @lunar-wolf-warrior @french-dog-joke @magnitude101999 @pinkittwice @musicallylara @summersprit-sims @timelinegodabandoned @patronusxcharms @azureocean33 @zazzlejazzle 

[aceofwhump]

Submitted by anon:

Hey! 

Sorry if this is all just a rambling mess or too personal to even be asking you in the first place (if so, please feel free to ignore away) but I’ve been questioning a lot lately whether or not I might be asexual & I was just curious about how you knew you were? I keep going through moments (especially after reading about other people’s experiences in the whump community) of thinking for certain that I am but then I end up thinking things over and doubting it.

I can say for certain that I do find people hot/handsome/attractive/sexy/yada yada but I can’t really tell whether that’s in a sexual way or not? I don’t really ever look at a person & think ‘god they’re hot, I’d love to f*ck them’ but then surely nobody does that without establishing a relationship with the person first, right?

Most of the time I’m not really ever instantly attracted to a person (if you showed me a photo, for example and asked me if I found that person hot I’d probably be pretty indifferent) but (and this is mainly in regards to celebrities) once I’ve been familiarised with them and their personality and seen them in a few things, say interviews and movies or stuff, I may develop an attraction to them (this is particularly true when it comes to seeing actors getting whumped, I find that most of my attractions form that way tbh).

Of course there’s the odd occasion where a person may be undeniably attractive & aesthetically pleasing and I’ll be attracted to them on the offset but it’s rarely the case.

Other than that, despite maybe a couple of people that I’ve found kind of  pleasant to look at, I don’t think I’ve really ever been attracted to anyone I’ve known in person, at least not in that way.

Also, whilst sex scenes themselves don’t neccessarily make me uncomfortable (can’t say I get the appeal but it doesn’t really  offend me in any way), if there’s a scene involving the nudity of an actor that I’m attracted to (as in full frontal) it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I guess that could just because it feels like an invasion of privacy as opposed to anything else though. I’ve been occasionally known to watch certain things to deal with particular urges and nudity doesn’t bother me then so I have no clue why it does in other situations.

I’ve also never had a relationship or been intimate with anyone in any way, nor can I say that I’m particularly interested in having one/doing so. I’m kind of introverted & socially awkward so maybe that’s a factor but I also don’t know if my disinterest in relationships is related to the whole concern & expectation of having to have sex with someone. I also don’t even know for certain that I’m 100% against the idea of sex. The thought of sex is not really something that appeals to me & I feel like I would happily die without ever experiencing it but I also wouldn’t say I’m entirely repulsed by it? I’ve occasionally daydreamed about characters doing the deed (never myself with anybody else though).

Also, this final part may will sound extremely cheesy so I apologize in advance but sometimes I see characters being all soft and adoring and affectionate with eachother and I kind of think f*ck man I want that. That could just be the whumper in me always seeking that comfort side of things that is so lacking though or maybe it’s just me thinking I want it because it’s supposed to be what everyone wants in life.

This was only supposed to be a short ask and instead you got an entire essay of me rambling about myself ahsgshsh, I’m so sorry! My mind is literally a mess😂.

TL;DR Idk I’m just very confused 🤔

Mod reply below:

Hi hun!! Don’t worry about a long message cause my reply got just as long lol.

I'm really glad you felt comfortable coming to me with this and I'm more than happy to help if I can!

First let me tell you a bit about how I worked out that I am both asexual and aromantic (this might be a jumbled mess so I apologize in advance for that)

So I found asexuality in 2014 and pretty damn quickly accepted and knew that I was asexual. I went through the tumblr tag (back when it was full of people’s experiences and feelings and so much positivity) and related strongly to other asexual people’s experiences. Some of those things included:

Not wanting kids

Having absolutely zero interest in ever having sex. Can go my whole life without and be just fine thanks

Not once have I seen another person and thought about having sex with them

Thought sexual attraction was either a myth/made up or only developed after you knew the person for a long time

Don’t understand why people on tv break up with each other over sex. It’s not that important, right?

Thinking people are “hot” or “sexy” but that just means aesthetically pleasing. Like a painting.

Having a sex drive but would rather take care of it myself than have sex. It’s like an annoying itch. I get annoyed, I scratch it, it goes away, I’m good.

Avoided sex ed whenever possible because I was uncomfortable with sex.

Don’t read smutty fanfic.

Sex on tv makes me uncomfortable not aroused.

Why are people obsessed with butts??? I don’t get it.

Hate when main characters get together in tv shows because that usually means they’re going to have sex and WHY DO THEY NEED TO HAVE SEX?? Isn’t love enough? I don’t get it!!

The idea of getting married and having to have sex with that person that night is horrifying.

All the universal asexual symbols and things that the community has. Like the playing cards, the black ring, the aces love cake, aces love pizza, that stuff. I loved and agreed with every single one. I know the other sexuality do this do but I never saw those, laughed, and went “yeah that’s me!” Just asexuality.

It only took a day if researching before I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was asexual. All these experiences and feelings my fellow asexuals felt really fit with my own experiences.

HOWEVER

My aromantism was a lot harder for me to pin down. I think I went through 4 different romantic orientations before working out how I felt. It was all so confusing and I couldn’t tell what was romantic, what was sexual, and what was neither. I didn’t understand it at all and I spent a long time confused. With sexual attraction I knew I didn't feel that. Never once felt that desire to have sex with a specific person. Not ever. But romantic? I thought I had felt that. Couldn't be sure though. I'm sure now but back then I was very confused. I started thinking I was hetero-romantic because I was only every "interested" in guys but it didn’t quite feel right. Next I found the word cupioromantic which was you don't feel romantic attraction but you still desire a romantic relationship. I wore that label for a short time but once again it wasn’t quite right. Every time the possibility of a relationship into my life I ran cause I didn’t want it. Next I found lithromantic which is you feel romantic attraction but as soon as its reciprocated it goes away. I thought hey that’s it! But I finally I took a very hard look at myself and my interactions with people and what it was I actually did feel and decided that I was truly aromantic. I just didn’t want to be labeled as such because I was a huge romantic and I felt like this label meant I couldn’t have one. It took a while but now I know that isn’t true at all. I know now that I don’t actually want a relationship but I want the closeness with someone that being in a relationship entails. I can get that with friends. I went through the times I thought I had felt romantic attraction and tried to fit them into the attractions above. What I felt for that one girl in my English history course? Yeah that was platonic? That actor I think is super hot? That's aesthetic. I'd love to just cuddle with and be touched by my one friend? Sensual. The one guy I dated? Yeah I only dated him because he liked me not because I felt anything for him.

Other things that helped me realize I don’t feel romantic attraction:

I have had one boyfriend my entire life (high school, lasted 10 months) and I hated it. I didn’t like holding hands with him. He asked to kiss me and I told him no. I thought (still do) that kissing was gross and no way did I want to do that. I hated when he kissed my cheek or held me too long. I didn’t understand his strong emotions toward me nor did I understand why people dated. I didn’t get it. I didn’t like it.

I have had fake crushes/faked “they’re hot, would totally hit that” because I thought i was supposed to feel that way about people. Everyone had crushes or wanted to kiss and have sex with someone else. I never did. Didn’t get it.

I thought a crush was someone you chose. Like, I thought you went “That guy/girl is funny and nice. I now decide to have a crush on him.” But apparently that is not true at all.

I have no desire to get married or date. In fact I prefer to live my life without it.

I’ve never looked at someone and felt or developed what can be described as romantic feelings.

Those times I thought I did were really just platonic feelings. I wanted to be their friend. Not their girlfriend.

I think whumperflies are the closest I’ve ever come to feeling something akin to sexual attraction but I personally don’t classify it as sexual attraction. I also get that feeling seeing someone get comforted and being soft and affection and wanting that. For me, I think that’s me being touch starved af. I’d love to have someone to cuddle with and have it not be sexual or romantic. Sounds like maybe you do too. And that’s okay :)

Based on your words and feelings I'd suggest you take a look at the following terms. They might help you pin down how you feel. They certainly helped me

Demisexual/Demiromantic: where people only experience sexual attraction to folks that they have close emotional connections with. In other words, demisexual people only experience sexual attraction after an emotional bond has formed.

Gray Asexual/Gray Romantic: in which a person may only experience sexual attraction on occasion

Sex repulsed/neutral/positive: How you feel towards sex and/or having sex. You can be positive about it, feel repulsed by sex and sexual acts, or be completely neutral about it

Sexual attraction: looking at someone and wanting to have sexual content with them.

Romantic attraction: wanting to have a romantic relationship with a certain person.

Aesthetic attraction: thinking someone is pleasing to look at. Appreciating their appearance.

Sensual attraction: wanting to touch/cuddle/be physically close to a person.

Platonic attraction: wanting to be friends with a person

To me it sounds like you could be demi or gray but it’s ultimately up to you. If you feel like any of those terms fit you then don’t be afraid to accept that label. And if you change your mind as you learn more about your self and want to use a different label then that’s totally cool! Like I said, I went through 4 different romantic labels before finding one that fit. Try things on and see how it feels for you.

I also suggest checking out some of these blogs because I found them really helpful. @asexualityexists @asexualfacts @asexualawarenessweek @acejokes @thehumorousace @outer-space-aro-ace @a-spec-tacular @life-of-an-asexual

You can also feel free to scroll through my main blog asexual tag if you want. http://thewanderingace.tumblr.com/tagged/asexual

I don’t know if any of this was helpful or not but if you have any other questions don’t be afraid to message me! I’m happy to help where I can!

[tom-hlover]

Young Man, Older Woman (1/?

Tom Holland x Older Reader

Plot: Reader is Tom’s new PA and is a single mother to a child. Tom develops a crush which he thinks becomes something more. He wanted to have a relationship with her more than a persona assistant and actor. Reader seems to feel the same. However, with her painful past involving the father of her child (the same age as Tom) and something more keeps her from doing so.

word count: 1902

Epilogue

warnings: none- still stirring up the story in here. it’s a wonder sometimes my brain works much for writing up stories. any feedback will be appreciated :)

Disclaimer: I’m not from the states, nor from England. I don’t have any idea on the places, everything is based on research. English is not my native language as well, and I’m still working on storytelling as well. :) I just thought that I will never learn if i never even started to write things so here goes.

“By the way, we’ll need to get you a new PA. Tin spoke to me that she needed to quit immediately. She said though that she’ll try to get someone in her place.” Harrison told Tom as he was prepping for an interview for his new movie, Spiderman: Homecoming.

“Oh yeah, she told me of her personal problems recently, which has been affecting her work as well. Though I’m not complaining or anything, I really loved working with her, it’s just for some reason, we don’t seem to jive very much.” Tom replied as he just finished hair and make- up.

“I gave Tin a week to get in touch with us so that we wouldn’t have a hard time once your shoot for Infinity War starts.” Haz advised as he continued looking down on his phone.

“Hey Tom, you’re up next. Are you ready now?” one of the staffs knocked in to inform Tom. “Yep! I was born ready!” Tom answered and winked at the lady and she smiled at Tom with this gesture, while Haz rolled his eyes. “See you later Haz, oh, by the way, Z and Jacob said that they’re coming over to our hotel to hang out. Can I ask a favor to buy something to eat for later?” Tom asked before going out. “Sure, sure, did you forget that we have a group chat? I saw their notice as well.” Haz answered. “Haha! I was just reminding you. Well, I’d better get going now. Thanks mate!” teasing Haz and waved off signaling he was going out now.

 “Eagan looks like a very nice man, I can’t believe he’d do that!” Grandma exclaimed after hearing the story from Aubrey. “I already feel that there’s something between Lisa and Eagan. I can’t believe that almost all of my hunches are correct!” Aubrey added.

“What’s done is done. It’s best that you left him Y/N. There really must have been a reason why you have not been wedded to this guy.” Grandma told you.

You were just looking far away, then looking after John, who was playing at the living room, across the dining area where you’re gathered with Aubrey and grandma, eating breakfast. You were unable to touch your food that much as you still did not have the appetite. You have been staying there for a week now, and you have a lot of messages from Eagan. Your boss, being a close friend as well, advised you take a leave of absence for the meantime, but you advised that you’ll pass your resignation effective immediately, as you’re unsure until when you’ll be staying away like this.  Your boss understood, and advised that should you return, you’re more than welcome to return to work and you were appreciative of the thought.

You were thinking of a lot of things for this past week. Though you have moved on a bit on what you have witnessed last week, you are now worried on how to make a living. You can’t just stay where you are and expect the world to stop turning because of you. The world continues to rotate, life goes on no matter how good or bad happens to one’s lives. Plus, you have John with you that you need to support yourself.

 Aubrey’s cellphone rang which brought you back to the room and finally heard grandma and Aubrey clearly about their thoughts on what happened to you and what you should do moving forward.

“Oh, it’s Tin, I wonder what’s up now.” Aubrey said out loud and answered the call. “Hi Tin! How are you doing? Yes, I’m in Georgia now, with Y/N, you remember her, right? I see, when are you coming back? Oh, I’d love to take that job, but Y/N needs that much more right now. Are you still around town? Maybe we can meet up before you leave? Oh, right now? That will be great! I can bring Y/N along so that you can tell her about this new job! Alright, see you then!” Aubrey ended the call, and you were curious about what their conversation was about.

 “Is that Tin? She’s one of your college friends, right? I heard something about a job, what was that about?” you asked her.  “Oh, she said something came up and she needed to leave her current job immediately and needed a replacement. She offered me the job, but I declined, and I said you needed it much more. She is inviting us to meet her at the City Café. she’ll let you in on the job offer.” Aubrey explained, “Oh that’s great Aubrey! Y/N, it’s best you take this opportunity, whatever it may be. You need to divert your attention and mind to something else.” Grandma added and held out to your hand.

You thought for a while, you’re not sure if you’re prepared to work yet but you will need it for expenses. You did not want to be a freeloader. “Okay, let me just take a quick shower and get dressed. It’s about time I need to make my mind busy.” You said and stood up and was about to collect the dishes, but grandma stopped you. “Let me do those for you, you have kept on doing the chores here ever since you arrived, I want to do some exercise as well.” Grandma joked which made you chuckle a bit.

 You left John under grandma’s supervision, with her saying that “it’s like starting over again for being a parent and like having a grandchild she never has yet with Aubrey and her sister, Aurora.”

You and Aubrey arrived at the café, Tin already got a table for you three and waved at you upon arriving inside the café.

Aubrey and Tin exchanged kisses cheek to cheek and waved at you. “It’s been a while Aubrey. I’m glad you’re here at the right time, with Y/N. Y/N I heard what happened. I’m glad you were able to get away and start a new slate.” Tin said to you and invited that you all now get seated.

You and Aubrey ordered tea and coffee, you were drinking tea for the past few days in the morning, and coffee at night, which helped in you staying up late.

 “So, about this job, Y/N, is being a personal assistant. I’ve been working with him for a year now, and he’s to start a big project soon, and it’s not the best time to leave really, so I promised a replacement for me. I initially thought of Aubrey, but since she did not want it, and offered that I give it to you, as I know your work ethic, which is much better than mine, so I agreed immediately. I already told my boss’s best friend about you and they can’t wait to meet you, which will be by the end of this week.” Tin explained about it, which was quite vague, as you did not know who you are going to be an assistant for.

“I’m sorry, who am I going to be a personal assistant for?” you asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t mentioned it, it is Tom Holland, the new Spiderman.” She answered leaving you surprised and a bit nervous as you have been addicted to Marvel Fandom lately and you have been reading fan fictions about him and Chris Evans on Tumblr.

“Oh my, he’s so cute! Y/N has been fangirling about him! I’m surprised you haven’t told me any stories about you working for him?” Aubrey asked Tin. You bumped your elbow against Aubrey as if she just spilled a big secret you did not want found out.

 “Oh really? Well that’s good, you’re somehow familiar with him then? He is indeed cute and kind too, and the reason I’m unable to tell you about him, is that I have a lot on my plate right now, which is why I’m taking my immediate leave as well. Not that I’m not enjoying what I do right now, it’s just that I need to leave here the soonest.” Tin said and continued to tell what happened to her these past few months and the reason why she’s quitting.

 The day that you will be meeting Haz has arrived. Tin said Haz will be meeting up with you first before you are to meet Tom and start working for him. Tin told you that you’ll have to meet him alone, as she needed to go somewhere, in relation with her current problem.

You had no contact with Haz yet, just to make sure you’ll show up, as you’ll have no choice, your point of contact will be through Tin for now. This meet up will determine if you’ll be having a job moving forward or if you’ll have to start job hunting without the help from anyone.

 You’re meeting up at the Village Café. You prepared your resume to bring with you and tried to be best dressed even though it’ll just be a casual meeting. Not too formal, not too casual, you picked to wear a white blouse, ankle-length sky-blue pants, and you wore a dark blue sweater and paired it with skin toned shoes with 2 inches heels. You let down your hair which has a natural wave. You put on light make- up though you’re not really used to putting anything on your face, you used this opportunity to use the make-up you bought for yourself.

You arrived 30 minutes before the time set, which was 11 AM. It was a lunch meeting. You wanted to set a good first impression by showing one of your work ethics, which was being earlier or on time. You texted Tin that you’re on the restaurant. Tin replied that Haz is still caught up on something but will be there if not by 11, maybe a little late.

 It was 5 minutes before 12 PM, Haz has not yet arrived. You were used to waiting, but you felt like questioning if this was a legitimate job or not. Not that you don’t trust Tin, you’ve known her for a while now and you’ve not had any bad history with her. It’s just that it feels that this job offer is too good to be true. You did not believe that an opportunity like this will come knocking on you just like that, it’s like reading a fan fiction from Tumblr. You are giving the benefit of the doubt, both for Tin and for Haz, if it’s even real.

Time passed by further, it was already 1 PM, it’s a good thing you still have extra cash on you. You decided to order a shake as the staff seem to keep their eye on you, not ordering anything for an hour earlier. You decided to wait there until 2 PM as three hours is too much tardiness for a business meeting.

 It was 5 minutes before 2 PM, when you were still busy scrolling through Tumblr on your phone, when you heard a voice, “I’m so, so, sorry, I’m late for this meeting. My friend was supposed to meet you, but as it was already so late, I decided to come by myself.”

You noticed that some of the waitress were gushing and giggling before looking to the person who arrived. You turned around and was shocked who you were face to face with.

It was Tom Holland himself.

tags: @eridanuswave​

[fromthewifecage]

Never Trust a Cowboy with a Computer (aka Erron Black X F!Reader)

I actually wrote this several months ago, and kept stalling and being an idiot. About 1 month ago I asked the wonderful @tomoka0013 & @gojihime99 if they could help edit it. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! SO many kisses to you both :D Basic premise is Erron Black X F!Reader. Reader handles the Black Dragon IT  and they have a rather huge crush on Erron (because who wouldn’t?) Reader is about to go out to the cinema with Kabal & Tremor buuuuut… dun dun dun….. shenanigans ensue, This is Chapter 1 of 2. Chapter 2 is written but needs me to have a shout at it. If people like this then I’ll try to get it out within a week (Chapter 2 contains the smut). If you do like, then please like and reblog as Tumblr is hiding my tags and no-one will see this otherwise. Your support means more than you’ll ever know x

Never Trust a Cowboy with a Computer

Chapter 1 For once, the absolutely only time in recent history, your hair was behaving. Thank the Gods! Actually, was there a God of Hair? Hmmm, maybe Kano would know? His stories of meeting Gods were always fascinating, even though he would always exaggerate his role and prowess in encounters with said Gods. There was simply no way on Earthrealm that Kano would have stolen the Thunder God’s hat without being zapped into the Netherrealm. Plus, Kano had never produced the hat, so whenever he would have one too many beers and start on another night of tall tales, you’d nod along and feign complete belief in his words. Maybe one day you’d get to meet a God? Not likely whilst you were stuck behind a computer for hours every day. Especially working along side Erron-sodding-Black. He’d gone through at least 5 computers this year, 2 in the past three weeks! You’d swear he was doing it on purpose. In your steamiest daydreams he was deliberately breaking his computer so you’d have to travel to the ‘Black Dragon Boyz office’ (and yes, they did spell it with a z) to spend precious time un-fucking his computer. Every time it happened, you swore you were just going to tell him to go bother someone else, or get his arse down to PC World and find some spotty 17 year old work experience boy to bother rather than yourself. After all, you were doing just as an important job for the Black Dragon as he, well, almost. He might be a super amazing dead-shot sniper capable of assassinating even the most heavily guarded target, but you weren’t just IT support, you were a Black Dragon member too. You spent much of your time hacking into Special Forces super secret files, reading General Sonya Blade’s horribly dry mission reports, or transferring money from one Swiss bank account to another before you could be traced. Well, that was why Kano had hired you. Yet these past few months you’d been dragged to broken computer after broken computer by the obscenely handsome aforementioned Erron Black at least once a week. You hadn’t minded the first few times, after all, any time spent in Erron’s company made you all giddy and wibbly-wobbly inside your knickers. His voice honestly did things to you, actually made parts that shouldn’t tingle at work, tingle. He had warm eyes that seemed to sparkle whenever he spoke to you, or caught you staring at him, not that you stared at him. Much. OK, maybe a little. ******  Keep reading after the cut!!! *********

He had a smile that was likely illegal in half the known world. Long, strong fingers that you so often thought about, especially when you’d watch him dance a coin across his knuckles when he was thinking, his trick to keep his fingers supple. No, no no. No thinking about him. He obviously wasn’t interested in you. He was a simple man when it came to that. You’d seen him make moves on people who caught his eye, he’d watch them for a while, then walk up to them, give them a smile, tell them plainly what he wanted, and then watch them walk off together whilst your heart dissolved into self pity. A few months ago, you’d made a real effort to try to stop flirting with him. No more lingering looks while spending more time than needed helping him with his computer. The man was multi-talented with most things, just not computers. Probably didn’t help he didn’t grow up around modern technology. You’d gently teased him about being old and doddery around computers and he’d taken the jokes well, and really, you missed joking around with him, but it was for the best. Kabal jostled with you for mirror space, smoothing down his hair and giving the mirror a big grin. Why was it so easy for men like him? He could probably roll out of bed after 2 hours sleep with his face in a half-eaten curry and he’d still wake up handsome (the git). Whereas it took a lot of fussing to even get your hair to behave, let alone look nice and shiny like Kabal’s did. Maybe you could make a small shrine in the corner of your bedroom to the Hair God? You nodded to yourself, thinking Kabal must have done that. “Come on, you look beautiful. Now get your coat and scarf, and we’re outta here. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss it!” Kabal fussed with his coat buttons. Always unable to keep still, the man practically radiated excess energy. “I will be sad if we miss the film.” Tremor stood up from his own desk, the building shaking ever so slightly with the enormous man’s movements. “Not as sad as Kabal. He’ll start bawlin’ if he misses his boyfriend’s new film.” Erron spun round in his brand new swivel chair, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Johnny Cage is NOT my boyfriend and I don’t even care about missing the film.” Kabal bristled with indignation. He did care about missing it. He cared a lot. “I don’t even like his films, or him. I’m just watching it ironically.” Erron laughed. You felt that laughter, deep inside and it demanded attention. Bastard. “Suuuure. Enjoy your boyfriend.” “He is NOT my boyfriend!” This was going to end up in another fight. Last week Kabal had called Erron ‘Old Man Withers’. Erron had retaliated by drawing on Kabal’s Johnny Cage calendar. The moustache and glasses actually suited Johnny Cage. So Kabal put a mouse in Erron’s desk drawer and recorded Erron’s scream, playing it every so often while�� laughing, and it had gone on until Kano had forced them to apologise to one another, in front of everyone. This happened probably twice a month. It got to where people made bets on how long each feud would last. The longest feud had lasted 23 long days before Kano had flipped. “I do not want to be late.” Tremor tugged open the office door, the handle would need replacing. Again. You followed after the huge man, Kabal behind you muttering about revenge. “Hey, Sweetheart, you goin’ too?” It took a second before you realised that sultry Texan drawl was aimed at you. “Oh, yes. There was a spare ticket since Kira’s still stuck on a job.” Oh shit, you should have offered it to Erron instead. You’d been so excited to be included in the cinema plans that you’d been selfish and not asked if Erron had wanted to go. “But……” Erron’s face scrunched a little and he turned to his computer and hit a few keys in quick succession. “It ain’t workin’ again. Sorry, darlin’.” He gestured to his computer. “But… I only fixed it this morning! What have you done this time?!” You dropped your bag to the floor, and peeled off your coat with a frustrated groan. You were going to get fired as there was no way Kano would believe this. You were completely and utterly incompetent. No other reason. Your fault. “It’s those darn computer gremlins again.” He gave you an apologetic smile and shrugged. You sighed and waved goodbye to Kabal and Tremor, both eager to watch Ninja Mime’s latest adventure, and this one was in SPACE, so it was going to be amazing, and you were missing it. You stomped over to Erron’s computer, your mouth twisted into a grumpy pout. “That is it. No more computers for you! you want to do some work; then you can bloody well do it on a typewriter.” Erron replied with a “Heyyyyyyy” and another laugh. The throb between your legs from the laugh can just sod off. No more. Not when you were going to be unemployed and unemployable after this. Who was going to hire you? What could you put on your CV? ‘Failed IT support worker’? ‘Only capable of turning a computer on and even then it’ll probably turn itself off again when you’re not looking?’ ‘Can steal FBI or Special Forces secrets but can’t keep an old man’s computer running for more than 3 minutes before it’s broken again’? ‘Want to play Solitaire? Well don’t ask me, best try the sudoku in the newspaper instead’. You were so engrossed in sulking you didn’t notice Erron get up from his comfy chair to stand behind you as you perched on the crappy stool with no back (it had no back because Tremor had tried to sit on it). It was only when strong hands found your hunched shoulders and began kneading at the tightly knotted and sore muscles that you looked away from the ‘blue screen of death’. “I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart.” By the Gods his fingers were truly magic. His thumbs were rubbing magic circles into your shoulders and it felt soooo good. “Mmmhhhhh?” Maybe he was a God, the God of massage. Your eyes closed and your head rolled back. Heat radiated from where his fingers touched you, heat that only got stronger when it reached your face and between your legs. He found one particularly knotted muscle and you couldn’t help but groan your pleasure as his thumb circled the spot. His chuckled reply tugged you back to your senses and you quickly shrugged his hands off you. Thank the Gods you had your back to him so he couldn’t see your positively flushed face. You quickly got back to tapping away at the keyboard but your hands were shaking so badly from the intimacy you struggled to hit the correct keys. “You sure you got that, Sweetheart?” The computer made indignant beeps at your clumsy fingers. “Says the man who has trashed enough computers to practically bankrupt Kano.” Your hands continued to shake and your thwarted desire swerved into anger. “I’ve made you mad.” “I haven’t been out in FOREVER, and just as I’m about to go out, YOU go break your computer. AGAIN!” “Ain’t my fault your boyfriend doesn’t take you out.” Why did he sound almost happy about that? Hang on… You span around to face him. “What boyfriend?” “You know, the dwarf.” “The.. what?” “Your boyfriend, the hairy dwarf.” His arms folded, his weight shifted to one hip. He didn’t seem too happy talking about this mystery boyfriend. “Is this some sort of joke?” You honestly had no idea what he meant. Maybe he was drunk or Kabal had told him this for a laugh. “I don’t think so?” One of his eyebrows rose in puzzlement. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have a hairy dwarf boyf.. why do you think I have a hairy dwarf boyfriend?” Maybe you had a secret boyfriend so secret you didn’t know you were in fact dating him? Piotr, who ran a very seedy strip club in the seedier part of the city, was a dwarf, (and you only knew him because Kano was friendly with him), but he was balding. Who did Erron think you were dating? “You said you did. You know, you were talking about him being all small and his hair got everyw…. He’s a cat ain’t he.” Erron had the good grace to look embarrassed at his idiocy. “Obviously.” Was Kabal recording this? This was ridiculous. “Shit.” “Yup.” “Then.. uh.. you should go catch up with Kabal and Tremor.” “I still have your computer to fix.” This was going to be such an awkward few hours. Sitting in the office whilst neither of you spoke since you both felt like idiots. “I can do that.” He threw out a warm smile. “Really. The man who can’t even use a mouse without breaking it, can fix this mess?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. If he even so much as looked at the computer it would probably catch fire. “I maybe exaggerated my lack of skills.” His smile turned, and slid from warm to worried. You were going to kill him if this was going were you suspected it was going. “I maybe might’ve deliberately caused the error.” He held up his hands in surrender. Yup, definitely going to have to kill him. “I maybe did some classes a few years back when I was at a loose end.” “…… I’m going to kill you.” “How ‘bout I make it up to you? I take you out for dinner, there’s this patisserie we can go afterwards for the best pastries in Moscow. Hell, you wanna watch that film, let’s go.” His eyes pleaded with you not to hate him, but right now you really did. “I have a hairy dwarf who’ll be better company, thank you.” That he was possibly asking you out and that he wanted to actually go out on a date wasn’t registering. All you could think of was the waste of time and how humiliated you felt. Everyone probably knew and had laughed at how utterly clueless you were. Kano was going to fire you for being shit at your job - after he’d finished laughing. “Heyyy, Sweetheart. I’m sorry. I just wanted to spend time with you.” He really did sound sorry. His eyes went all soft and warm and apologetic and Gods he was beautiful and you really did want to believe him. “You really thought it was accidental?” He tried to hide a smile and couldn’t stop one eyebrow from raising quizzically at the thought that you had been utterly clueless. “Well… you’re… there weren’t computers around when you were young…younger, I’m just an idiot aren’t I?” The-all-too brief warmth and fuzziness from thinking maybe there might actually be something there between you dissolved back into embarrassment from being tricked so easily. You grabbed your coat and bag and left the office whilst Erron stared after you.