#I think Tim should have the worst birthday luck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peeterparkr · 4 years ago

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The Holiday.|Tom Holland

chapter one: The Prince and the Pauper. (Pauper.)

↳ read Sophia’s version here and a little bit of Tom. (Tim fic)

So, the christmas series is finally here! This is a 2 fics in one, meaning I’ll write Tom’s fic and @jambrosemc will write a Tim Chalamet fic, if you’re not familiar with the concept, it’s based on the movie The Holiday, where two women after being heartbroken switch their homes and lives for a bit. Both fics are reader insert, however Emma’s character will be named Sophia in this fic and my character will be named Iris in her fic. Remember the fics are connected and that Tom’s introduction is held in @jambrosemc ‘s fic. And so Tim’s introduction is here. Hope it’s not complicated and we hope you love it.

STORY SUMMARY: Two women troubled with guy-problems, one who’s in love with love and one who doesn’t believe in it are both suffering from a broken heart, with little reasoning and nothing left to lose, they swap homes in each other's countries for the holidays, where they’ll meet a local guy who will probably change their destiny.

chapter summary: The heartbreak of an unrequited lover. pairing: tom holland x y/n | warnings: Chad, mentions of sex, alcohol, mentions of cheating. word count: 7.2k

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There is something unequivocally known about love, everything that’s been said about it, is almost true. We’ve been bombarded with love songs, romantic comedies, romance novels, poetry, it’s everywhere. There can never be enough love songs, because no matter how incredible it never seems to be the same, you’ll never see two pieces that are identical, some of them are similar, of course, but they all speak from a very deep side of Love. Love isn’t one thing that is written down, not an exact science. There’s no right formula to whatever love is. But every single thing written about love might be true, at least to someone. Love is something so personal and yet we can all relate to it, but then again there’s never two loves that will feel the same. There can be two love stories starting at the same time but you’ll never feel like it’s the same. But everytime someone dares to write or speak or sing about love, it’s most likely to be true. Or so you’ve learned throughout the years.

In Romeo and Juliet, Romeo asked himself ‘Did my heart love till now?’, and there's common sense to it, we’ve all felt that…We’ve all wondered if you’ve known love before you met the one. You believed you had, you thought you had it all figured out. How much can one learn about love? We’ve all felt it. At some point, or another. You had. It’s incredibly easy to understand that though love is unique in its own sense, love is universal.

You did believe that everything concerning love was true. Shakespeare also said, "Journeys end when lovers meet."

Was it true? You loved to rely on that thought, that we were meant to travel until we found the one. That two people are destined to meet in the middle and start a new one together.

You loved to think about love more than anyone did, you were hopeless. It’s incredibly complex, and subtle and it’s got the power to change someone, and a story, completely. Love is not easy.

Love is also blind, you, perfectly, knew about that. It was smart to know that you’d been blinded yourself.

Love fades. Love is lost. Love is complicated. Love can be something eternal, or love can only last for a night.

Then, there was the one love you knew, the one you’d been living for a while. Unrequited love. No one really talks about that one. All love stories rely on the fact that the two lovers will end up together. But the unrequited love? No, no one dares to write about it. Maybe because they’re too sad in their sorrow to even think of that. You always wondered what would be of that story if someone ever dared to write it. And what’s the destiny awaiting for them?

Always the bad luck, the ones with the blinded reason, but always foreign to that one feeling of joy. Always wounded, and always left when the sun is out. The handicapped of hearts.

You were one, you were one of them, the one who is in love with that one guy who never dares to love back.

It gets even worse around the Holidays, everyone speaks of it. It’s everywhere. You go to the mall and see people buying gifts for their significant others, you turn the TV on and there’s the usual bad romantic films that you ended up watching, always the same, the girl goes from the big city back to her old town and her high school sweetheart is in love with her still, all while there’s an angel or Santa Claus, or whatever they come up this time, and she finds herself falling back in love with her old town, and she’s a painter or whatever and she lets go her dream of the big city to go back to her pathetic love interest.

Yet you always watched them, curled up in front of your TV with the candy that you were supposed to give out on Halloween but instead kept them for Christmas.

That was you, a hopeless romantic who was desperate for love.

You were there, wrapping a delicate christmas present that probably was not wanted but that you were too blinded and too stupid to see that. Also trying to wrap your own mind whether you’d give this out or not.

You were pathetic, and there he was in all his splendor. Chad.

Of course, maybe that’s what you get for being in love with a man named Chad, but he didn’t live up to his name. He was handsome, and incredibly perfect, and you were always so mesmerized by him. You had been in love with him for three years now, three miserable years. And honestly it’s been the worst years of your life, worst birthday, christmases, Halloween, New Years Eve’s that needed wine and Xanax. The biggest curse. All because you’re in love with a man who’s never and will never ever love you back.

He probably wasn’t conventionally good looking, not for most girls around anyway, but he had a confidence and a sly sexuality that could get you to your knees in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N, dear, please tell me you’re not deeply lost looking at Chad?” Angela, your coworker and probably closest thing to a friend asked.

“What?” You were snapped out of your trance. “No, no!” Though you had been.

The holidays party at the newspaper you worked at. You wrote the only good news, you’d say, the column of UNIONS, when you described marriages and gave the couples a little bit of spotlight to their recent and new found joy. You wanted to write way more than that, honestly, but you didn’t mind. Though you knew you were probably wasted potential. Potential, everyone said you had it.

“I thought that was over,” Angela pointed out.

“It is! It is—“You tried to say. “It—is, mostly.”

Angela rolled her eyes, “thought so,” she snapped. “What even was the deal with you two? You used to fuck him right?”

“I—“you coughed. “Yeah, I used to sleep with him, but more importantly I was in love with him.”

Still were, for that matter.

“Oh, great, and then—you discovered he was fucking that other girl in accounting, Denise.”

“Yes, I did find out and hence why I stopped… sleeping with him,” you whispered, embarrassed. “And I don’t want to talk about this at the party.”

“But like I always see you two together, so he cheats on you and you keep being friends with him?” Angela pushed to your own disarray. “Plus, I’m like 300% sure you’re the one who writes the articles for him, he hasn’t one ounce of talent and you do.”

You did write his stuff. But couldn’t get anywhere yourself.

“I well-”

“And he cheated, y/n.”

“Yes but he didn’t cheat, you see in his mind we weren’t in a relationship and we were in mine… but like—“

“So if you’re not in a relationship that means you have to expect he’s going to fuck other women?” She pointed out.

“I—“ you didn’t know what to say. “No, no, I mean—but I was so in love with him, but—“Somehow this had opened a gate that you hadn’t opened in a while. “Wait—No, no I can’t cry,” you said to yourself feeling like there was going to be a cascade pooling your eyes. “Does it look like I’m crying?”

“Y/n, maybe—Look,” she wiped off a tear, I—“She coughed. “Did he ever say he loved you?”

“I—yes, three times.” You had counted them. “When I reminded him of that he said it must've been a question and it most certainly was not.”

“You see y/n, when you catch a man fucking another woman you’re not supposed to remain friends with him, you’re supposed to make a scene, threaten to chop off his dick, throw things at him, like I did with your brother.”

You rolled your eyes, “Tim didn’t cheat on you,” you said. “You slept with him once, didn’t talk to each other for like a month and he found someone else and you made a scene.”

You knew your brother was many things but he wasn’t a cheater, he was not a bad person. Tim was someone with enough confidence to know what he wanted and sure, he did find a one night love with strangers every now and then, but he wasn’t a bad person. He probably was too confused. He’s the typical man who is afraid of commitment and has no follow through.

He never fell in love, that wasn’t his thing. The opposite of you, who fell in love deeply. Tim never—wanted any commitment. He could have a one night stand and never follow through.

“But—you see that’s what you’re supposed to do,” Angela continued.

“But I’m not doing anything, we just—text,” you admitted with pity, “and sometimes we FaceTime but like that’s it, and we’ve gone out for lunch and look, he says we’d be idiots to give up our friendship but—“You couldn’t continue.

“Fucking men, they’re trash, all of them, he’s got you right where he wants you, who wouldn't want a fantastic girl like you in love with him ... hanging on his every word …?” She asked. “Chad knows anytime he wants to crawl back …”

��And he is… Look, today he—he said we should go out and he gave me a Christmas present.”

“Which was?”

“A set of lingerie but—“

“Oh my god y/n,” she snapped. “I can’t believe how pathetic you are.”

“Is it pathetic really? To think the world is near perfection every time I’m with him?”

Angela rolled her eyes. “Very. It’s...Chad.”

“I… is it wrong, really? I just want to be loved.”

“And you chose Chad?”

Before you could say anything, your boss called out. “Everybody gather around. I have an important announcement to make,” your boss said. “First of all you, I want to wish each and every one of you a Merry Christmas. It’s been a year, hasn’t it? I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished,”he kept rambling on their achievements or whatsoever they had done throughout the year, you couldn’t care less. “Given that, we may be able to get by with a smaller announcement—Which involves y/n—y/n? Are you there?”

Angela raised your hand.

“Well y/n your column on weddings has been lovely,” he said.

Was it though?

“And—Well, a wedding was privately announced earlier, and I don’t think any other paper in town knows about it and I want you to be the first to report on this particular union, as it is between two of our most esteemed colleagues got hitched! Bring a loud cheer for Chad Bloom and Denise Higgins!”

Boom.

It all felt...no.

You tried desperately not to cry. Everyone could see you there. Were you dreaming? This was a nightmare.

You didn’t know how you got the guts to get out of that office without crying. You’ve never felt braver before, but you had to give the politest of smiles to Chad and everyone around to then proceed to get your coat and head home. How pathetic did you look in your car crying to a guy who definitely was going to do that.

This felt like a nightmare. The love of your life was engaged. And you couldn’t do anything about it. Because you didn’t believe in multiple loves, only one, love wouldn’t come again and knock on your door. This was it, you were destined to be lonely and stay lonely. This was your very worst nightmare, all that time wasted upon and there was nothing you could do about it.

It hurt, your heart was wrenched. You’d open the Halloween candy sooner, and you’d bought ice cream, three pints of ice cream.

Just a week before he had given you the set of lingerie and said he was eager to see you wearing it. Honestly, you had lied to Angela. You had seen him a couple of times, and sooner or later you’d end up in between the sheets because you had absolutely no self control when it came to him. He knew how to press your buttons and where to touch you and he’d try to charm you each time and you’d end up falling for it. He’d say that he’d changed and that he always believed in you.

Honestly, you always fell for it because you thought you were both destined to be in love.

But now it was all gone, you’d lost him. He was going to marry someone else.

This probably was the lowest point in your life, it really was. Because it was so stupid to fall in love with someone who was just going to step on you, and you needed someone. Time was passing by, it was getting darker and night was only drowning you more. You needed someone to talk to, who’d listen. But someone who wouldn’t judge you just as bad or who couldn’t judge you as bad.

You were getting tired of crying but you couldn’t help it. You felt insignificant and as small as humanly possible. So very crushed.

You called your brother, because though he probably would judge you, and he’d probably not care, he was kind of forced to listen because you were relatives and you did help him from time to time. Lately more than you wanted to.

“Y/N—?” Tim answered, and you could hear there was music playing behind him. Of course he’d be awake in the middle of the night. He probably was out clubbing.

“Tim—I need—I’m not okay,” you admitted.

“Y/N I can’t really—“he laughed in between. “Hear you.”

“Chad is engaged!” You said louder.

He laughed. “Chad, what a stupid name.”

“Tim I’m serious!” She stated.

“How serious can this be his name is Chad!” Tim giggled. He was clearly drunk.

“Tim! I—He’s engaged I—I can’t believe it just a week ago he said he—“

“We’ve both known Chad is an asshole y/n, his name is Chad for fuck’s sake,” Tim pushed. “We both—I thought you were over him.”

“I… well.”

“Fuckin’ hell, y/n.”

“I’m never gonna love again,” you stated.

He scoffed. “Love doesn’t exist, y/n,” he stated. “Not for someone named Chad.”

“Stop.”

“He—“Tim sighed. “Look, we both knew he was an idiot, and we both knew he was going to break your heart and—He already had! May I remind you of that? He cheated on you!” He stated. “He is an asshole who doesn’t deserve any of your tears and I’m a hundred percent sure you are crying.”

You were, for that matter. Love for you was also always shedding tears.Sad tears. Love hurts. “I love him.”

“And I love this vodka on my hand,” he stated. “That—means nothing, okay?”

“You’ve never been in love,” she snapped. “You don’t know how it feels to have your love taken away—“

“Don’t go there, y/n.”

“I—I just—I can’t—“

“Y/N you need a break,” Tim said without really caring. “I’ll call you back later alright? I’m busy.”

A break.

Yes, that’s exactly what you needed. A break from your stupid and pathetic life, a break from your little fantasy. A break from Chad. Honestly, you were tired of it. Always having the worst of luck. You needed a break from men, though you barely had… Being completely honest, it only takes one man to lose faith in humanity. They hold that power.

You knew what love was and well, you’d never have it. You were destined to be the side character, the best friend and the one plot device. Not relevant.

Because honestly how stupid were you.

But was it really so bad to feel that way? To long for love, for someone who would run to you, and whom you could fall so deeply with. Guess now you had to build up walls. Because now you couldn’t get nobody else to hurt you again, nobody was worth this pain. Nobody should ever feel this way. You never wanted to let anyone hurt you again.

Honestly, you so needed a break. But where and how?

You couldn’t stay in your place, it held too many memories, lots of them of you being stupid with Chad because you were such an idiot for letting him in your house and corrupt your place. You needed a break because everything would remind you of him, your car, his car, his house, this town, everything. Also your place was too sad.

You could go away. You had to, because you couldn’t let yourself drown in more sorrow. You were so unbelievably tired of it.

You had to go. Away from him, away from this place and your stupid house. Hell, if you could, you’d go to another country.

You rang Timmy again.

“What- y/n?”

“Where should I go?”

“What?”

“Yes on vacation,” you added.

“How do I-I don’t know, fuck it eh, oh wherever they speak English, bye.” He hung up on you again.

Where did they speak English?

England, of course.

Hell, maybe that’s why Chad didn’t love you, you were stupid, probably. England. London. You’d always wanted to go there. Anywhere really, but you never went anywhere because you were still waiting on Chad. Jesus, how much time did you spend wasting on that man?

England.

You opened up your laptop, ready for it. You needed to get away and not waste the holidays watching old and bad Hallmark movies eating ice cream by yourself. Or maybe yes, just far away from your own house.

Airbnb.

You went straight to London, it always seemed like a dream, besides it could work. And you scrolled through houses, big ones, small ones.

Then you found one. ‘Cozy, lovely place above a bookshop’. It did call your mind, it gave the idea of a perfect fantasy, it seemed nice enough.

And far, very far. And so different from whatever her fantasy with Chad had been, what was his thing? Island in the Caribbean.

You kept reading.

“In the other direction, the Bayswater Road will take you to Notting Hill (location of the Julia Roberts/ Hugh Grant film of the same name) and its fantastic local restaurants and bars, boutique shops, and the famous Portobello Road Market.”

That caught your mind. It seemed… perfect but to live with that fantasy of yours to live in a stupid romcom. Could it be?

No, no. You had to go in with the idea that no matter how romantic, you had bad luck and not even such a romantic place would make you have someone to love. You were really supposed to be always lonely. But the idea… of leaving did thrill you.

You didn’t think much of it, but the next morning, you still had that thought roaming in your mind, and eventually… you tried to reach out. It had closed, however. But you had saved the ad.

Sophia.

That was her name.

Hey! I’m interested in your house! That seemed too weird. Besides she had closed it.

You decided to reach out anyway.

“Hey, I was interested in your house! I don’t know if someone else rented it but I thought it was worth the shot. Is it still available? I’m sorry if it’s not. I just really liked your place! It’s okay if it’s not! Sorry! Thank you!” You sent it in. Wondering if you’d apologized just enough times.

You knew she’d probably not respond.

“Oh, sorry! I was renting it because I was planning to go on holiday with my boyfriend but plans changed. We broke up recently so I won’t be going anymore,” she answered. That had been quick. Lucky she was online but the place was no longer available.

This was your bad luck only. Of course she wasn’t going to rent it. The dream seemed too far away. But… she had just broken up, she probably was feeling awful.

“Oh, I’m sorry! why did you break up with him?” You asked.

Then read again what you’d just asked. What was wrong with you? This was a stranger. They didn’t need to give any explanation.

“I’m sorry you don’t have to answer that. I don’t know why I asked.” You added.

She was typing. “No, don’t worry! I guess it’s pretty complicated but long story short, he cheated on me.”

Been there, you thought to yourself. But probably at least most likely she was dating him and they were in a relationship not like you with your stupid “whatsoevership” with Chad.

“Men are trash,” you texted her.

“To say the least,” she answered.

You bit your lip. You knew you had to open up to. Well you didn’t have to, but you… felt the need to.

“I’m really sorry, I know how it feels. I was actually looking at your place to escape from a man myself. The love of my life, Chad, just got engaged.”

As soon as you sent it you saw how stupid you looked. You were absolutely pathetic.

“Chad?” Sophia asked.

You chuckled. You could see the smirk from the other side.

“I know. It’s my fault for falling in love with a Chad. Lives up to his stupid name.” Was your response.

It honestly was. But thought it seemed fun to poke on his name, it really didn’t occur to you that it was because of his name that he was an asshole, don’t blame it on a name.

“Well, I’m sorry that “Chad” had to be the love of your life. It sounds like we both need to get away.” Sophia sent.

Yes, you too were sorry.

“Definitely, but I’m gonna keep looking. I need to be at least 500 miles away from him.”

You really were going to keep looking, maybe not as perfect as the place Sophia had but at least go away.

“Maybe we could work something out?” Sophia asked.

Huh.

You grinned before chuckling. “Let’s switch lives like in The Parent Trap, although we’re not twins we’d be switching breakup lives.”

That would be a fun idea, impossible of course but you secretly hoped it could be done.

“Sounds interesting! Where are you from?” She asked.

Was she really up for it or was she just like you? Bored and alone enough to be talking to a stranger you’d met over Airbnb. Some people do tinder, but guessed you did Airbnb to make friends with other women who’d fallen under the sorrow that is falling in love with men.

“Astoria, Oregon. Pretty boring compared to London I guess.” Was your answer. Of course if she was remotely interested on switching before, all hopes would flush now.

“Not at all! All I care is that it’s far from here.” Sophia answered.

Was… it for real?

“Me too.”

You answered in hopes, but not really she’d back away.

“So, should we switch?” She asked.

You stared at the screen, not believing it. You had to make sure. “You’re serious? My place is nothing like yours.”

“Surely it’s not too horrible.”

It wasn’t, honestly. It was pretty. But not exciting, it was only normal. It was clean, it was full of books.

“I have a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room. That's it. And I’m not near a romantic location like yours. I do have a dog, though.”

You didn’t know why you were sabotaging yourself. Matter of habits, maybe.

She didn’t.. Back away. “That’s perfect, I want far away from romance.”

So weird, you wanted to go near something romantic to be reminded love exists, or whatever. You didn’t understand why. Honestly, it probably was only a way to cope with this.

“Well, this is your chance.”

Honestly, this place was everything but romantic.

“Can I ask you one thing?” She asked.

She was going to back away. “Sure.”

“Are there any men in your town?” She asked.

Well, there goes your chance. You had to be honest about it. “Honestly? Zero.”

You waited for the ‘not interested' answer, instead she gave you: “When can I come?”

You scoffed with delight, not believing it. “Tomorrow too soon?” You asked, half-joking only. Honestly, you had to get away now.

“Tomorrow’s perfect actually.”

You couldn’t believe it. “wait wait wait but like are you for real?”

“Absolutely, or would it be too crazy?”

It ws for that matter, but when you’re brokenhearted you have no common sense. You didn’t have one of your own, that is. But this was exciting and this seemed like an adventure. A great idea for the one book you’d promised yourself you’d end up writing one day, instead of writing every other article for Chad.

You thought about it, you really wanted to go through with it. “It is but I’m down for it, but like, okay do you want pics of my home or something so you don’t think I’m a creepy old man who might kidnap you?”

And that would bring less of suspicion, god, why were you like this?

“Umm, yes actually :) that would be great.”

Yeah, she’d say that.

“Okay, wait, want my phone number so we’re not talking over air bnb?”

“Yes, I feel like that might be better.”

What was going on? Why were you exchanging numbers with a girl who you had never met and who lived in a completely different country. Besides, it was even crazier to think you btoh were thinking about switching places. You were crazy, completely off reason. Yet you didn’t know how or why you ended up both texting more, and talking. Showing each other’s places and ranting about men.

You couldn’t blame her for not believing in love, of course she wouldn’t. The ne guy she gives her heart to cheated on her. You wouldn’t blame her, at all. Besides, it was just…

You both had a very different version of it, but it was… Different. Yes, different, you guessed there was no other way to put it into it.

The texting didn’t cease, it continued more than you ever thought it would. Because sometimes it’s easier to rant to a stranger about life and love’s misfortunes. It seemed incredibly stupid how you both were talking about men who decided to ruin your lives. How in this world had you ended up venting to a stranger?

Danny blamed it on her. Danny seemed like the typical male who wanted to have a girlfriend and well, there was Sophia. It seemed sad, seemed like they both settled for it. Not even Sophia seemed to talk about him with love. She was just so… Not into it. Just talking about someone who she used to share time with.

She had given up on it. You couldn’t understand that. If the one who wasn’t the one could make her happy at some point, how happy would she be with the one?

However, you both seemed very alike, and both of you probably were in the same situation. Well, of course, the cheating part was different. But you’d gone through it as well. But Sophia explained that Danny, her ex, hadn’t even felt sorry for cheating.

You knew that story like the palm of your hand. Chad well… He blamed it on you, too. And he had said it, he didn’t cheat.

And though the stories were so different, the feeling was the same, of wanting to take a break from your pain, from a heartache and being so damn unreasonable to think of this. Honestly, though the idea of London seemed romantic, you knew you’d end up curled up crying on the other side of the world.

Sophia seemed to be very well put together, she had her bookshop, which added to her life. And sure, she seemed like a workaholic but she seemed to be kind. Someone who had the guts to follow her dreams and someone who barely had time to think about love.

You wished you were a bit more like her. She seemed like a main character. Even her name was a main character one.

The texting, not sure how or when, turned into a facetime call, and there you were, facetiming with a stranger about the lack of love you’d been involved with. You pitied her, though. Not in a bad way, but in a way you could completely understand what she was going through. She seemed tough enough. But for her, love had rules. It had to be a certain way, and life had to have a certain balance and everything had to be merely perfect. But love for her was simple, the only rule was not to cheat.

Danny, her ex, had broken that rule. Which honestly, from what you’d gathered she was someone who actually tried. But… No, Sophia had seen him fade out. It always scared you to see that, to see how someone falls out of love. Sophia had seen it. But maybe Sophia’s belief, or lack of, of love was just… Surreal. But you understood it, not completely. But you did.

How could she believe in love when she’d never had it? Truly had it.

And she spoke of love as if it was a disease. Maybe it was, a disease. But was love really the disease or the aftermath the true one?

She didn’t believe in love. And not in a way that everyone has gone through, not in the way when you’re so brokenhearted that you don’t believe in it for a while. No, she didn’t want to give it a chance. For her, life was supposed to be about her success and her job, and the thrill of owning a bookshop.

Maybe she was the one who was right, after all you'd proved that love only could hurt. And how could you, after all of this, believe in it?

“So how long were you with him?” You asked her, as you were pacing around your kitchen, honestly you didn’t care if a complete stranger was seeing you in your ‘Chad reaction’, the bottle of wine, the chips, the cookies, your pj’s. Your pug dog, Tommy following you around.

Yet she was there, so elegantly, with her glass of wine. How was she handling it so well?

She gave it a thought. “About four years. What about you? How long have you loved Chad?” She smirked at the thought.

Four years. It seemed… enough. You rolled your eyes at the mention of his name. “Oh god it does sound super stupid,” you groaned. “But… Three stupid and miserable years, it’s a low point,” you said before finally opening up the wine and pouring a glass.

“No, it’s not stupid,” she answered. But it was, his name was Chad. “But, I can imagine how it would be a low point.”

Very, very low point. “But like you told me—He blamed it on you?” You couldn’t put your mind to it, at least Chad had accepted he’d slept with Denise. Of course, he didn’t say he cheated but he hadn’t… blamed it on you.

“He did,” she admitted. “He said I worked too much, and that I didn’t give him enough attention.”

You clenched your jaw, incredulous of how stupid he was. If you met the guy you’d probably slap him. “Fuck him, honestly, you’re successful bet he was intimidated by your success.” Because that’s how men work.

Sophia sighed. “Hmm, I doubt it. He just seemed… “ She paused. “bored of me.” You could see she was hurt. “I mean, he was right about one thing. I do spend most of my time at work, but that doesn’t give him any right to do that.”

“No. it doesn’t,” you agreed as you plopped on your couch, your dog jumping to your lap .” Why—Why are men—Like—”You didn’t know what you wanted to ask. “No, never mind that’s my question,” and it was. “Why are men?”

She let out a soft laugh. “Why are men indeed. More specifically, why is Chad?” She joked.

You laughed, too, with distress, running a hand through your face. “Ugh, don’t even mention him,” you whined. “He’s an asshole, can you imagine just a week ago he wanted to sleep with me?” You snaked with disbelief.

She groaned. “What I really have trouble understanding is why you ever wanted to sleep with him.” You had the question backwards, why had he ever looked at you? “Maybe his personality, but he seems like such a wad.”

You didn’t know how to answer the question. Then again, you had the same question for her. Why Danny? Why, being such an incredible woman, had she chosen Danny? Love is blind. You’d learned that over the years.

Maybe because ‘Danny and Sophia’ sounded like something with balance. But did it really? How could she see it so simply?

“Look—I—” You took a deep breath. “I believe in love at first sight,” and you did, in your own way. “and I don’t know, I guess—I saw the fantasy, you know?” You explained. “Thought we could—I don’t know, he was charming,” because he had been, at very first, he had been charming and he’d learned how to make you fall in love with him. “I guess I wanted that, you know the whole love story,” you sounded so childish and stupid but how could anyone ever apologize for being in love. “And he made me believe he could give it to me and then he just never—”You had to face the truth. “He only wanted sex and I fell in love,” it all ended so simply. Maybe Sophia was right all along. “Pathetic right?”

She watched you, and you saw it, the pity in her eyes. Yet someone else feeling sad for you. She probably did think you were pathetic. “No, I don’t think it’s pathetic… I think… well, I’ve come to the conclusion that love isn’t worth any cost,” she answered. “Not really, especially since it doesn’t even seem real.” You wondered again, how come she’d never felt it. “Love makes people get their hopes up. It makes us… give too much of ourselves to other people, when we don’t even know what our future with them looks like,” she explained. Yes you were probably a mental woman to her. “But I don’t think it’s pathetic that you wanted to believe in something that only seems to come from fairytales, I just think that’s what most people do.”

How bad is it to want a fairytale? “Love is worth it, though,” you said, because how come a beautiful feeling could carry so much pain. “It’s men who are the problem.”

She grinned, defeatedly. “Suppose you got me there…”

You had to ask though. “But you... like really don’t believe in love?” You asked. “Then why were you with Danny? Didn’t you love him?”

She grimaced and took a sip of her wine. “You know,” she paused to think a bit. “I thought I loved him, and I thought he loved me.” You understood that part, believing someone loves you back and then it turns out they didn’t… Well, it hurt. “But, I guess he just…”She probably didn’t understand it herself. “And it just made me realize that, even if love is real, it comes so rarely that I don't believe I would ever find it.” That you could understand, though you were so enthusiastic about the feeling, you knew you weren’t meant to find it. “I just don’t think most people do.” She watched you, curiously. “Why have you put so much into it if you were hurt?”

It was an escape, really. Love seemed to make people happy and you wanted to be happy. She reminded you so much of Tim, talking trash about love and not understanding the thrill for it. Being so done with the feeling.

“I think… I dunno, love isn’t a one time thing,” you started with that, because it was true. “I think the problem is I suffered from unrequited love, but I think I… I dunno, I think we get chances,” you said. “Not me though,” you scoffed. “but it’s… I don’t know, I think I’ve always read about love and I’ve always wanted that, and love is complicated, that’s it,” you said, because love could come in so many ways. “I don’t think you can easily-“You shook your head. “I mean I do believe in a sort of thing like love at first sight but I mean, I believe in second chances, but like not for everyone,” seemed like believed in second chances for Chad. “ I guess I… I think there is such a thing as love I’m just… “ you took a deep breath. “super unlucky and maybe that sweet fantasy of any Julia Roberts’ romcom isn’t for me, I’m destined to be a side character who gets no… attention.” Or love.

Sophia probably believed you were helpless. You were. “Oh, come on Iris, that’s not true,” it was easy for her to say. She was the main character. “I mean, if you do come here then you’ll have plenty of opportunity to live a Julia Roberts movie. People seem to find this place so thrilling…” Why wouldn’t they. “I don’t seem to know much about love, or to really be the one to talk to about it, though… “ She admitted truthfully. She gave it a thought. “You know, you should talk to my friend, Tom, if you come. I think you’d get along well, he gushes on about love all the time.”

Your dog raised its head as soon as he heard his name. Tom. You smiled and petted him. “It is thrilling I mean, it’s near Notting Hill,” you were excited. “I just need Hugh Grant and that’s it but…”You knew it wouldn’t come. “You might come here and hate on love with my brother, he hates everything related to it.”

He really did. Tim was even worse than her. Tim never, ever had believed in love. He said he didn’t want to bother about it, no commitment, not ever seeing someone twice because why would he? He said it was a waste of time. Shades of gray on love. And he said he didn’t want to risk just to get hurt. He said love was… a mystery he didn’t want to explore. He liked simple things.

“Really? He sounds better than most men already,” she commented.

You laughed. “He’s not.”

If you ever bumped into someone like your brother you’d end up running the other way.

She chuckled. “Aren’t siblings meant to support one another?”

You scoffed. “You’d think that,” you pointed out. “But no, he’s a man,” you stated clearly. “I don’t know who’s worse men who hate love or men who pretend to love love,” you snaked. Probably the second one. “Your friend is probably the second one.”

Men who don’t believe in love at least are direct about it, and the second type they know and try to hurt you.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. He seems to really believe in it, maybe more than you. He’s really sweet, typically… “She said. “I mean, he is a man so he has his days”

You heard her…. And then you clicked it. Tom, that friend of hers, he probably was in love with her. “Oh,” you closed your eyes. “Of course…. so… Right, right,” she chuckled. “But you don’t believe in love and...Right, right,” you thought it was ironic. You hadn’t even met the guy but you could tell that he probably was so smitten with her and she didn’t see it. A perfect love story. Why couldn’t she see it? “Perfect setup, see?” You said. “This town is perfect for you, nothing that has to do with romance. It’s a great way to get away from everything romance.”

She seemed confused, because of course, she didn’t see it, she couldn’t, for that matter. But god, how did she not see it?

“Then I can’t wait to go, really,” she went along. “I mean, it seems perfect for you here, too. You can surround yourself in things to remember the “fantasy” of love again,” she offered. “So, are we really switching tomorrow?”

You couldn’t quite put your mind to it. It had been hours of you speaking with this stranger. And all because you wanted to change lives with a stranger. Were you actually going to go through with it? You wanted to.

“You think there are any flights?” You asked, half joking.

“I’m sure there have to be some. Should we check?” She offered.

You smirked and reached for your laptop, conveniently in front of you. “Definitely.”

You expected her to back up.

“Wonderful.” She hadn't. “How long are we doing this for?”

Forever? You wanted to say. “Uh, depends, holidays are coming soon… “ You pointed you. “So, even though I have no interest in spending Christmas here, what’s your idea?”

Because you didn’t want to spend Christmas with your family and hear that question, because you’d promised you’d bring Chad for Christmas. Why? You didn’t know. Because you were an idiot.

Sophia wrinkled her nose. “Nothing is really keeping me here for it, honestly.”

“I’m just-- you’re okay with dogs, right?” You asked as you pointed the camera at your puppy, honestly you had lied, Tommy was the love of your life. A young pug who loved to follow you around. “Because little Tommy here is going to miss me.”

She smiled at him. “I’d love to take care of… did you say…”She tried not to laugh. “l-little Tommy?”

You grinned as you hugged the dog close. “Yeah, his name is Tom. He’s the only male that matters.”

“Oh, I love that. I would love to trade Tom’s with you,” she chuckled.

Oh god, why didn’t she see it?

“As long as I don’t have to feed that one,” you chuckled.

“I do hope that you don’t have to, he seems somewhat capable of caring for himself,” she grinned. “Oh, by the way. He’ll be running my shop for me while I’m away, sometimes he stays later for work so if you hear him downstairs don’t worry.”

Of course he was, he was in love with her. You chuckled and then started to actually look for flights. “I probably won’t notice, honestly…” You scrolled through the flights and there was one. “Okay so here’s a flight, can you believe there’s actually one for tomorrow?”

She probably was looking for flights. “I found one too, shockingly enough… Are we really going through with this?”

Were you?

You were excited, scared but excited. “I think we are.”

“Well, alright then… “ She seemed to be rational yet.

“On three then….?” You asked, knowing this decision would probably change your entire life, not sure why. BUt you had a feeling that this was either the worst decision you’d ever made or the best one. This was the so-needed break you needed, you needed to breathe, and this was the perfect way to do so. Yes, this was unplanned and this was mysterious but this was what you needed an irrational decision.

“One…”She started.

“Two…”

“Three!” You said at the same time.

You’d bought the ticket. There was no going back now. You were going to London to a Stranger’s house for the Holidays.

sophia’s version <- REMEMBER TO READ TO KNOW WHAT’S UP WITH TOM.

story masterlist.

next chapter

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years ago

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COVID-19, Negligent Manslaughter, and a Timeline of Tory Indifference

“I feel sorry for Boris Johnson. He is doing the best he can in the situation and I don’t think anybody else could have done a better job.”

[exhibit A: a gem somebody that I’m Facebook friends with reposted earlier]

It’s a sentiment that I cannot quite wrap my head around. I sit here hopeless and furious and trying to hold back tears because it’s been almost a year since England first went into lockdown and yet here we are, almost 100,000 dead, in an even worse position than we were before whilst other countries begin to slowly return to normality. It is clear to me who is to blame for this, however there are a large proportion of people who don’t want to “politicise” the actions of the PRIME MINISTER with regards to his approach towards handling a virus sweeping the country he GOVERNS.

Typically, these kind of posts making the rounds on social media will be accompanied by some kind of photo of Boris Johnson looking somber as if to suggest that the way things have played out were beyond his control and that he is some kind of broken man beleaguered by the suffering he has, despite good intentions, inadvertently caused.

This one in particular of Johnson with his head in his hands is a staple. In reality, this is a photo taken back in 2018 whilst he was receiving flack from party members for comparing Theresa May to a suicide bomber (for her handling of Brexit, ironically) as well as from the papers due to his rumoured (now also proven, in a completely non-surprising turn of events, to be true) affair with his former aide, Carrie Symonds.

So let’s shut this narrative-where we should feel for Boris because he’s doing his best, and apparently a better job than anybody else could’ve done in his situation- down right here. In a supposedly developed country with one of the world’s largest economies, if we’re talking by proportion, our COVID-19 death toll is up there with the worst of them. It seems that every other state figurehead (bar a small handful), and I mean almost every single one of them, is doing a better job. People love to throw figures out there about how densely populated we are to combat damning statistics as if we haven’t got just as many factors playing to our advantage, as if it’s unfair to compare our response to Germany’s or Japan’s or Singapore’s (both of which are far more densely populated) or New Zealand’s or Vietnam’s, but we are an ISLAND with world-leading technology and infrastructure and healthcare equipment and professionals and a relatively high standard of living. In what world is almost 70,000 dead in a country with abundant time and means to prepare a response reflective of said country’s leaders doing a good job?

Apparently we’re supposed to believe that Johnson feels some sense of moral responsibility for this astronomical failure. A man who refuses to acknowledge the multiple children he has fathered outside of his marriages and who has had repeatedly engaged in affairs and one-night stands throughout said marriages. A man who continued to cheat whilst his most recent wife was receiving treatment for cervical cancer, for fuck’s sake. Yep, a real stand-up guy.

So where does this idea that Johnson must feel remorseful for this catastrophe come from? We haven’t seen a second of remorse or a hint of accountability for the lives lost from him nor any members of his cabinet. That much is really no surprise; I have this hypothesis, and it’s not a stretch, that these people do not have an ounce of empathy in their bodies. These ridiculously privileged, privately-educated individuals who have had everything handed to them their entire lives simply cannot put themselves in the shoes of the average working person and that is the problem. Unable to recognise that what distinguishes them from most others is little more than the luck of being born into wealth and the abundance of recourses and connections that has entailed throughout their lives, they see us as beneath them-as less intelligent, less driven, and thus less deserving of the status and respect they enjoy. They see us as a bunch of whining, unmotivated idiots who do not recognise the chokehold they have over our media nor the fact that everything they do is a desperate grab to keep money and power within the hands of a select group of people, an exclusive members club from which most of us are barred (just take a simple Google search and watch Jacob Rees-Mogg’s opinion of the Grenfell victims or the buried Johnson speech where he talks about how inequality is essential). They know that we will squabble amongst ourselves about who is to blame rather than wising up to the truth which is that every decision they make is fuelled by cronyism and the inability to make and follow through with difficult choices, the pandemic being no exception. The supposedly self-made elite see the life of the average working class person as having far less value than their own, and their parties actions over the last 10 years have made that very clear.

It was in December 2019 that the first case of COVID-19 was declared to the World Health Organisation and on March the 11th that they announced they considered it as a pandemic. In Wuhan, people were dying of pneumonia in their clusters. And what was Boris Johnson doing in this time? Well for starters, here in the UK we didn’t even have a pandemic committee-Johnson had scrapped it six months before. If years of benefits cuts and defunding of the NHS in favour of funding nuclear weapon programs, keeping British troops on other people’s lands, and tax breaks for the mega corporations that donate to their party didn’t convince you that the Conservatives have little regard for human life, them getting rid of this committee-whilst a pandemic has been declared year after year as the greatest threat to mankind-should have been the first sign of trouble. As if that wasn’t enough, he also skipped five of the COBRA (meetings are made up of a cross-departmental committee put together to respond to national emergencies and PMs routinely attend those pertaining to crises on the scale of COVID-19) meetings addressing the situation. Whilst other countries were closing their borders and stocking up on PPE, Johnson and his ministers were selling PPE abroad and simply telling people to wash their hands to the length of the tune of happy birthday. Their only policy was one of “herd immunity”, which was in fact not a policy but just an abandonment of their party’s public duty disguised as one, intentionally obfuscated with pseudoscientific jargon.

Even thinking the absolute worst of politicians you would hope that when it came to the point where the UK’s non-response to COVID-19 was becoming an international disgrace, Johnson and his ministers would take proper protective measures if only to save face. But when they eventually seemed to do so, it became clear that the priority was not the safety of the ordinary people affected by the virus. Outsourcing their test and traces system to companies such as Serco, Sitel, Deloitte and G4S rather than public health services, Conservative ministers could not resist attempting to line the pockets of their friends and benefactors in the process. According to the Guardian, instead of reaching out to the experts or using publicly funded services to handle COVID containment measures, the Conservative party has awarded a disgusting £1.5 BILLION WORTH of contracts to businesses with explicit connections to its MPs and donors, the majority of which lack any relative experience of the tasks they’ve been trusted to carry out. Unsurprisingly, the National Audit office found that when awarding contracts relating to the production of COVID-19 protection measures and treatment needs, there was a “high-priority lane” for suppliers referred by senior politicians and officials; companies with a political referral were 10 times more likely to end up winning a government contract than those without. On top of this, it is not hard to draw a link between the late initiation of lockdown measures and preemptive openings of pubs and restaurants against scientific advice to the interests of frequent donors such as Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin. Even if one chooses to ignore the blatantly obvious correlation between the owners of the businesses whose profits were prioritised over safety concerns and the number of those owners who donate to the Conservatives, party officials at the very least were reluctant to follow the lead of many other countries in financing furlough schemes themselves and instead avoided this responsibility by using loose lockdown measures to leave it down to the discretion of small business owners, who couldn’t themselves afford to furlough staff, whether or not to stay open.

Time and time again, as the government flounder and fuck about, favouring personal desires to keep their powerful, high-paying jobs and to satisfy the corporate allies who make this possible, blame has been shifted from the public to care homes to NHS workers and back again whilst we, the public, make the biggest sacrifices of all under the illusion that we were being guided out of this pandemic rather than lied to and thrown under the bus. Whilst the elite continue to pick and choose what rules apply to them, it’s students and the elderly and the vulnerable paying the fines and scrabbling to afford basic living costs and hoping that they don’t lose someone dear to them.

Don’t get me wrong, a large proportion of the public have contributed to the spread too with their selfishness and entitlement and the arrogance it takes to develop a sudden refusal to acknowledge basic science from experts who have studied in the field their whole lives so that they can justify their need to go to the pub (speaking of, it’s absolutely HILARIOUS how many “mental health advocates” are suddenly coming out of the woodworks on football avi Twitter after they’ve spent years calling people on mental health Twitter attention seekers). And don't get me wrong, there were inevitably going to be casualties of this pandemic. But it didn't have to spread to this many people, and there didn’t have to be so many deaths due to a lack of preparation, and this wouldn’t have been the case if it weren’t for the inherent apathy of the Conservative party towards the lives of people of lesser status than them, the reluctance to put those lives before party interests. I wish I felt like there was an end in sight, I wish there was some positive takeaway from all of this, but even now, we continue to see corners being cut with the vaccine lauded as our saving grace and anti-maskers gathering outside hospitals to chant about how “oppressive” it is to be urged to wear a bit of cloth over their faces for the short periods of time in which they leave their houses and all I can think of is the selfishness that runs like poison through our country. It makes me sick and leaves me to question desperately where we go from here. I don’t like unanswered questions, I don’t like feeling politically directionless, and I don’t like the growing fear I have about the state of the world which seems to intensify every single day. In the UK at least, it’s starting to feel like nothing will ever change-we’re told we live in a democracy and yet mainstream media is owned by the people whose interest is to keep their Conservative friends in power. The stronghold they have over print media in particular allows them to continually get away with smearing and defaming every person who comes along and seems to want to actually help ordinary people, without being challenged, to the point where the only kind of “opposition” we’re left with promises nothing but a big boss approved tactical reshuffling of the status quo (which they call “electability”); it doesn’t feel like democracy when the majority of the country are being fed misleading information and convinced against voting in their best interests.

This is the result of that. The state we find ourselves in is the inevitable result of being manipulated into helping the elite build their protective wall whilst the rest of us scrabble to get in and step on each others heads along the way, the people inside shouting over that it’s those even more vulnerable than ourselves that are taking our places. Outside the wall, the earth is falling from beneath our feet, and instead of throwing over the ropes to help us out, the people inside are stockpiling them so they can secure their firm place above ground and then later flog the rest. How many more people have to die before we reach some kind of widespread realisation of that? Where do we go from here and what do we do? Well for one, we can stop spreading those god-fucking-awful textposts on Facebook and get our heads out of our arses. Wear our masks over and wear them over our fucking noses. Have some fucking consideration for others. Don’t wait til an issue affects you personally to give a fuck about it. AND START HOLDING THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER AND HIS MINISTERS AND HIS ENTIRE PARTY AS WELL AS THE OPPOSITION MPS THAT HAVE SAT BY THE SIDELINES AND ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON WITHOUT PROTEST ACCOUNTABLE. That would be a good start.

I’m so tired. Things didn’t need to be this way, and yet because of the selfishness of the few, thousands upon thousands are dead. It’s not about “throwing around blame”, it’s not about “throwing around” anything, it’s about expecting a leader to do his best to protect lives. If that is “throwing blame”, let’s get things clear, I have no issue with hurtling it torpedo style at those who handed out a death sentence to so many in this country rather than do anything that might compromise their own privilege. Honestly, pass me the shovel after and I’ll happily bury the wreckage in the ground. Who wants to join?:-)

#rant #politics #anti capitalism #anticapitalist #covid-19 #covid #england #labour #socialism #fuck the tories #fuck the torys #fuck boris #rant post

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pandoraimperatrix · 5 years ago

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Dick Centred BatCat / Future fic / Fluff | 1358w

Read on AO3

Dick didn’t know when he started thinking Selina as his surrogate mother.

It was between that time he sprained his shin after a bad fall when he was 11, and she stopped her escape to see if he was ok and stayed with him, telling him silly stories to distract him from the pain until the Batman came (he let her go that time); and when she appeared at his 20 years old birthday party to give him a kiss even though she and Bruce were in a middle of one of their fights. She kissed him full in the mouth, he made her promise she would never do that again, her sparkling laugh reverberated through the whole saloon.

It wasn’t like she replaced his own real mother in his heart. Selina had never told him bedtime stories, nor she gave him lots of hugs or went to his school plays. Yes, that was that one time when he punched Mark Ryan in 7th grade for making fun of him for being adopted, and it was Selina who came to pick him up from the principal’s office. She took him to eat ice cream that evening, Bruce wasn’t as understanding when he got home, nor Alfred when he saw the stains in his shirt and found out he had dessert before dinner but Dick felt grateful nonetheless.

Still, for most of the time, she was the only adult women in his life. Bruce would sometimes date other women for longer than a week, one time even Wonder Woman. Though there was nothing wrong with most of them – because some of them were really weird like Vicky Valle – he was always relieved when it was not a stranger, but Selina who he found wearing Bruce’s shirts laying in the living room sofa watching old movies in the middle of the night when the Batman was patrolling alone and Dick couldn’t sleep.

When he left, it took three entire years until he saw her again. Even when Bruce made him come back to make Dick Grayson appearances at soirees and galas she wasn’t there, and he regretted deeply throwing her absence at Bruce’s face in a middle of a fight to hurt him when they were at the worst point of their relationship. Turned out she was in Italy giving birth to Helena, as they would only find out only ten years after that.

Even so, she was a constant in Dick’s life, and when strangers asked about her, he often explained her relation to him as his guardian’s girlfriend even when she wasn’t with Bruce. And he always wished they would just stop fooling around and make each other an honest man and woman. Jason and Tim agreed with him, when Damian was younger he would be very vocal about his dislike of Selina. Especially after the hard time he had accepting his little sister, even though there was a picture in Bruce’s room of them both sleeping in the very sofa Dick and Selina would share when he was Damian’s age at the time. He knew Alfred would also agree, no one in the world desired more for that day to come, and Dick never wished more some people were immortal as he stood at the place that should be the old butler’s at Selina’s and Bruce’s wedding.

The bride’s hair was as white as her dress, and the groom was pushed to the altar by his oldest grandson, who was also Dick’s oldest grandson, thanks to his daughter terrible choice for spouse.

Dick himself minstructed the ceremony, and at the toast Jason joked that it would be a really low move if Selina tried to run away again since Bruce couldn’t go after her, Bruce replied that he didn’t need to run since he has a flying wheelchair.

It was the most lovely evening, Dick lost the count of the times Kory dried his eyes with a napkin when he didn’t even notice that he was crying and he could swear he saw a tear falling from Bruce’s eye when Helena made her speech. Clark made him laugh so much telling old stories about how grumpy Bruce would get every time Selina wasn’t in the picture that Dick had to get out a bit to get some air.

He found her at the balcony, closed eyes, flute of champagne in her hand, ridiculously giant diamond ring sparkling under the candle light.

‘What are you doing here? You won’t try to run away now, will you? It’s a bit late anyway, he finally did it. He married you.’

Selina gave him her trademark red lipped wicked smile, but now the crinkles around her eyes didn’t disappear when she relaxed.

‘No, kitten, not this time, I’m not leaving.’

‘No cold feet this time?’

‘Oh, I definitely had cold feel earlier, you can ask your wife, I totally asked her to distract Helena as I tried to run away with the silverware.’

Dick snorted.

'What made you stay this time?’

She turned the flute in her fingers.

‘Despite your father’s allegiance of a flying wheelchair, I know he’s too old to chase me… And I want to be here when Mar'i pop the next one, when do you think her and the little bat will close the factory?’

‘As much as I’m thrilled with the prospects of more grandchildren,’ he already had two ‘I really try to not think about Mar'i’s and Damian’s factory.’

She laughed again.

‘I still find this whole story so funny.’

‘It wasn’t as funny when it started, I wanted to kill him.’

‘Oh I remember, he stayed at my house after that night you found out about them.’

‘He was with you? Traitor!’

‘He was terrified. You know how he loves you, Dick.’

'Oh, him I forgave after I saw how happy he makes my daughter, it’s you I can’t forgive. I’ve always thought you were on my team.’

‘Darling, you know I love all my kittens equally, but I had to take Damian’s side that time… And you from everyone have no right to complain about someone privileging Damian.’

'Yeah, and what that got me? Treason from my own cat mother.’

She walked toward him, a huge smile on her face, she fixed his cravat.

'If I let you kill him you wouldn’t have such beautiful grandchildren.’

‘The beauty of them is not thanks to him, they all look like Kory.’

They heard a shout and turned in time to see a small golden-skinned little girl run away from a laughing Tim.

‘Do you really think of me like that?’

Her words brought back his attention and Dick looked down at her, Selina was still holding his cravat.

‘Like what?’

'Like your cat mom?’

He caught her hand in his.

'Yes. Does it bother you?’

He smile shone the brightest.

'Even though we’re practically the same age…’

'Absurd! I look older, I even have little grand-babies as we’ve established.’

She him her throaty laugh.

‘Yes, I’m in much a better shape.’

'Always.’

'When I look at you, I still remember that colourful little kitten following the Bat around, how crazy I thought your father was but then I understood… I would want you close too, if you were my son.’

‘I am.’

'Oh darling!’

She hugged him, Dick circled her waist in his arms and inhaled her perfume, the same from when he was a kid, for a moment, time turned back.

Until they were rudely interrupted by Bruce’s throat cleaning noises that sounded exactly like Alfred’s.

'Are you trying to steal my wife, Dick?’

Dick still held her tighter before letting her go.

'You know I could, old man.’

'Go find your own wife, you brat.’

Dick smiled and dipped down to Bruce’s level, he cupped the old man’s head before kissing his forehead.

'Congratulations, dad’

Bruce let go of the grumpy pretence and smiled.

He left feeling so luck he had the chance to see this set of parents of his to get older together, and when he turned back for a last look his heart swelled as he noticed they were holding hands and then that Bruce pulled her to his lap, her laugh echoing again.

If you liked this self-indulgent thing please reblog and comment :)

#dickkory #(mentioned)#batcat #demonfire #(mention)#batfamily #my fic #this was veeeeeeeeeery self-indulgent #but that's what fanfiction is for

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soveryanon · 5 years ago

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Reviewing time for MAG146 /X_X/*

- Replacing things chronologically, what Jon was doing vs. what he was saying and telling the others throughout the season? (Not suuuure about the first having happened before MAG124, though, since. Yeah. We had squinted at that comment, back in MAG125. And it could take on A Very Special Meaning if that actually came just after Jon’s first victim.)

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: … The first was a supermarket cleaner. Em, ended up lost for a week in an endless warehouse. I didn’t even…! I–I just went in for some shopping, and he was there, and I–I just… asked.

(MAG124) ARCHIVIST: It’s been a week and… Melanie’s attitude towards me hasn’t softened. And Basira, though she is very willing to talk, still doesn’t seem to trust me enough to let me in on whatever plans she might have.

(MAG125) ARCHIVIST: Regardless, I’ve hit another research dead end with this. It’s… frustrating, to be honest. I finally feel myself, I feel… focused, and ready – and I find myself basically alone.

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: The second was, uh, it was after I got… stabbed by Melanie. MELANIE: You are not putting this on me! ARCHIVIST: No, that’s not what I meant! [SIGH] I was walking the streets, I–I thought I was trying to clear my head– DAISY: [DELIBERATE] But you were hunting. ARCHIVIST: … Apparently. I found a woman who… every year on her birthday, wakes up in a fresh grave. Just for her.

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry Basira, I–I will try to keep anything I learn about you to myself. My priorities haven’t changed; I hope you can believe that. [SIGH] I’m still on your side. You can trust me.

(MAG128) ARCHIVIST: You can trust me, Basira– BASIRA: Stop saying that.

(MAG146) DAISY: And the third was after the coffin. ARCHIVIST: A man rejected by all who knew him, searching ever-darker places for love. When he told me his story, he started… weeping maggots.

(MAG133) ARCHIVIST: Look, I’ve… been where you are. BASIRA: Have you? ARCHIVIST: Yes, I have. Like you’re the only one responsible for everyone, the weight of all their lives on your shoulders: it leads to bad decisions. […] Fine. I don’t care if you trust me, but I think I’ve proven at the very least that I’m useful. So use me. Because if you go it alone, you are going to die. Even Gertrude worked with people. We make bad decisions when we don’t communicate…

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Jess Tyrell, the woman on the tape… [SIGH] She was the fourth. I–I just tried to… I was weak, r–ravenous, I–I didn’t feel…

What Jon did would have warranted the others’ anger anyway; but I think what made it even worse is… that he spent the season taking the higher and stable ground, assuring them that he could be trusted, that they had to communicate and work together, and actively complained and presented himself as… a victim who was tragically cut out by the others? And in the end, Basira was right from the start, without knowing it: he was actually untrustworthy, and unreliable to us listeners.

And it’s not even a New Jon thing! He hid himself to the tapes back in season 1, covered up his true feelings and played pretend because he was afraid that acknowledging the supernatural and the feeling of being watched would only make it more real.

- So, personally? I felt so relieved by the girls’ reaction: yes, it’s irrational; yes, it’s confrontational; yes, it’s not constructive; yes, they’re probably making a series of mistake again. But after MAG142 (and the fact that Martin was partially refusing to believe it was Jon-Jon behind it, then presenting Jon as someone who needed to be protected rather than protected from, and Daisy who was also prompt to highlight how Jon had suffered himself), I… think I really needed characters to be horrified and disgusted by what he had done; to express something raw, leaking betrayal, hurt, disappointment and disgust.

The setting of The Intervention 2.0 is especially interesting since… it’s once again something that Martin, though reluctant, slowly planned or at least contributed to put into motion:

(MAG058) MARTIN: Look, look, you just got to let me work through this. Alright? I suggested therapy, but he just says no, so– TIM: Well, we need to do something! MARTIN: Yeah, maybe.

(MAG059) ARCHIVIST: Supplemental. Everyone is avoiding me. They’ve taken to working farther away from me than normal, and when I call them for any reason, they’re always keen to leave as soon as possible. They share furtive glances when they think I’m not looking. I don’t like it. I feel like they’re planning something.

(MAG060) ARCHIVIST: You don’t mind if I record this, I trust? ELIAS: Well, to be honest– TIM: –That’s kind of one of the things we wanted to talk about. MARTIN: This is an intervention. ARCHIVIST: Excuse me. [CHAIR] ELIAS: If you’d rather it was an official disciplinary hearing, Jon, we can arrange it. ARCHIVIST: … Fine. Say your piece. NOT!SASHA: We care about you, Jon. And you’ve been rather erratic since the Prentiss’s incident. MARTIN: And we’d really like– ELIAS: To not have to fire you. MARTIN: –to make sure that you’re doing okay.

(MAG142) MARTIN: [SIGH] Th–the worst part is I don’t even want to talk to him about it. I’m just… [SIGH] I suppose I’m just getting comfortable with the distance. […] I should probably try to get him this tape, let him know what happened, that someone came in to… But then, ahah, would that just come across as an accusation? Like, because I don’t wanna… And then, then I guess he’d… hear this bit as well, so… I… I… [LONG EXHALE] What do I do…?

(MAG145) BASIRA: Martin left a tape for us. [SHUFFLING NOISE] ARCHIVIST: And what exactly is on this t– … Oh… MELANIE: Yes.

(Martin had tried to partially lead the “intervention” back in MAG060: the way he had corrected Elias was especially impressive, given how Elias was “just” his boss at the time.)

But now, it’s an entirely different team confronting Jon about his actions than in MAG060 – from Martin, Tim, Not!Sasha and Elias, to Melanie, Basira and Daisy: back then, it was half composed of people who… were not being honest to the others about who they were (Elias was scolding Jon for his behaviour and paranoia induced by Gertrude’s murder, when he was the one responsible for it in the first place, and knew about Not!Sasha; Not!Sasha was gleefully pouring salt over the wounds while she had killed Sasha a few months ago, while the others didn’t know yet). Now, unless twist, the three new assistants have made mistakes of their own but are not “toying” with Jon, and are genuine about their feelings; and, more importantly, the three of them have been victims of Jon’s statement-induced nightmares. Daisy had deemed them bad enough to knowingly sign an employment contract, to get immunity from them even though it meant trapping herself in work for Beholding. They all know, from experience, how difficult to bear the dreams were, for victims.

(Not even counting the additional symptoms described by Jess in MAG142. And I can’t help but think that there is something a bit… stronger, for women, to hear about a woman who was terrorised by a man, who happened to be someone close to them. MAG142’s whole setting had made me viscerally uncomfortable more than horrified (“story about a woman being preyed upon while on a date, cornered once alone, pressured to do something painful, then receiving the thanks of her tormentor” was… Heavy) so, although it’s a sheer emotional&personal response, hearing characters-who-are-women unambiguously denouncing what happened without searching for excuses for the perpetrator, meeting him with nothing but coldness and anger… was reassuring. Yes, narratively and strategically, it’s probably not going to help the characters. But emotionally, if felt, to me, like a necessary reaction.)

(And it was even more significant, in the story, that amongst these three characters, Melanie has always been leaning a bit towards denouncing oppressive social structures (her rant about Elias in MAG117 was… yeah.), and the two others… used to be police officers. Basira, especially, led the intervention as an interrogation against Jon; being firm, pushing him to confess, not allowing him to dissimulate or minimise the hurt – though she also made herself partially a judge, in this case, by claiming what Jon was, and I think that was her emotions pouring out.)

- I’ll try to cover the statement first: it was a very interesting case, time-wise, because it intertwined multiple lives and events. The doors had haunted Marcus McKenzie for most of his life, but his father ended up pursued by one and was the first to leave his statement, on August 24th 2003 (MAG027). Marcus left his statement a week later, on September 1st 2003 (MAG146), in reaction to his father’s. Jon stumbled upon Paul’s first, but already learned at the time, through the follow-up work, that Marcus had also given one:

(MAG027) ARCHIVIST: Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.” This leads me to believe that Marcus McKenzie may also have a statement lurking somewhere here in the archives, lost among the mess and misfiling.

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … So it seems we did have Marcus McKenzie’s statement after all. I spent so long looking for it, back when I found his father’s, and… no luck.

And Paul had died “of a stroke” two months after leaving his statement (MAG027), which was confirmed by Helen (MAG146: “And technically, I didn’t eat the old man. He passed away from terror!, before I even had the chance to open properly.”)… while Marcus had been fine for almost fifteen years, given how Jon’s team had been able to contact him, back in (April or earlier) 2016, but this wasn’t the case anymore as of now (June-July 2018):

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: And his son Marcus, he… he was fine, when I found his father’s statement two years ago – but now, suddenly, I can’t get through to him! HELEN: No… I imagine not~! I decided it was time to finish that game a few months ago.

So things kept going, Spooks kept on terrorising innocents, and this time it was one who is… closer to Jon. The first statement Jon had read at the Institute post-coma had already been about someone who got snatched while he was already in charge:

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: […] I did do some light searching myself on Gregory Cox. … Vanished, unsurprisingly. Sometime in late July 2016, which is… [CHUCKLE] two years ago. … That doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t feel like… … There’s just this… great… gap of time, where I wasn’t. No notes or follow-up here that I can see, just… [SIGH] It looks like the statement came in just after Gertrude disappeared. Another gap. And whoever took it didn’t do any follow-up, just… filed it away. I may be the first person to actually read it, so… sorry Angie, I suppose.

Most of the events involving innocents have been taking place during Gertrude’s era: there were sometimes pleas of people knowing that they were losing someone, or on the verge of being eaten themselves (which was the case for Paul McKenzie in MAG027: “I guess that’s why I’m here. This is what you people do. You investigate these things. You know what to look for and can identify the signs of things that… aren’t right. You know, not of this world. I’m not saying it’s a ghost or anything like that, it’s just… that well, if it was a ghost, you’d be the ones to talk to, right? I just need it to stop. And I don’t want to be put in a home.”), and we were getting glimpses of their gruesome fates from a later point in time – Jon and his team digging through a distant or recent history, but overall covering events that were absolutely unrelated to them. They didn’t know anything while it was happening, and they couldn’t have done anything. But in the case of Gregory Cox, there had already been the fact that the statement had come in when Jon was (on the verge of, or just) beginning his work as the new Head Archivist, and that Gregory disappeared while he was already well-installed; now, with Marcus McKenzie, it’s someone who he had been in contact with, through Martin. It’s the slow dissolution of one of Jon’s own eras, too: because back in MAG027, the Archival Assistants were Sasha and Martin (who had worked on this peculiar case) and Tim, and now, only Martin is left alive, and Jon’s current Archival Assistants are three completely different people.

And indeed, it’s not Team Archives’s responsibility to save everyone; but it’s still someone they had interacted with, and who got consumed since then. It’s closer. It feels more personal, hence, probably… Jon’s franticness: because in the same episode, he acknowledged the fact that he has attacked five people himself, and is confronted to the fact that he hasn’t saved any statement-giver, either.

(- And… remember what Jon had said about Elias in MAG017? “I know he’ll just give me the old ‘record and study, not interfere or contain’ speech again”. The Archives have never been about helping or saving people, nor has the Institute in general, it’s been proven again and again – but it’s something else to be confronted with so directly. In this case, since it was someone Jon’s team had been able to contact, and who got snatched by Helen, who is present in the Institute and has helped Jon occasionally, telling him that she has decided to help him… and there was, obviously, a gigantic echo about deception/relying on (or trusting) someone close, who had repeatedly stated that they were on your side and ready to help you, before you learned about their crimes, with Jon learning what Helen had done, and the Assistants learning what Jon himself had done.)

(- This bit is more gratuitous and solely due to the wording, but I couldn’t help but think about Martin, too, because of the “I’m sorry he’s so lonely, truly I am; I try to see him as much as I can, but I have my own life, and I can’t be there all the time. And I don’t like being manipulated. I don’t like being lied to.” bit (Martin had told Peter word-for-word, in MAG126, “I don’t like being manipulated.”) + the boat painting. Peter Lukas has ruined me for those forever. The familial situation and dynamic was fairly different this time around (… MAG144 was much closer to Martin’s own), but hearing Jon read a statement about someone saying that x was “lonely” because the statement-giver was not around enough also reminded me, a bit, of the whole Jon-Martin deal.

+ obviously, the ~not liking to be manipulated~ is relevant to Jon as well given his hatred of spiders and his overall Web-related trauma.)

- It’s also amusing because, as much as I relistened to old episodes, I never labelled MAG027 a Spiral episode (and more specifically, a Distortion one) in my mind. Relistening to it, yeah, obviously, it was a Spiral episode, with the statement-giver being aware that others thought he was delusional or getting too old, but back then… there was the door, indeed, but I kind of remembered it as a Dark statement for some reason? The feeling of empty houses, the reflexion about noises and how you become aware of all the strange little things when you’re alone in it, and the fact that… something could come for you from within? I think it comes to the fact that, back then, Michael was not so strongly associated with “doors”, and also because MAG026 had already been about him – it’s rare to get two episodes in a row involving the same person/monster/manifestation unless Jon is actively researching the subject.

- … Jon’s… nostalgia of a simpler time? felt accidentally funny to me, though, because I did remember that I had found Jon especially savage with Paul McKenzie, back in MAG027:

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: … I never thought I’d miss those days, when I could throw out some half-baked speculation about drug abuse or mental illness, and whoosh, away all the statements went. There is… nothing in the world more reassuring than ignorance which we can mistake for certainty. But no. Almost every one of those statements, those… people… that poor old man… [HUFF] Like I can talk…! Like I’m in any position to mourn the suffering of the innocent.

(MAG027) ARCHIVIST: I want to believe Mr. McKenzie, I really do. I am not entirely made of stone, and am apt to be moved by the plea of a scared old man as much as anybody. I mean, dementia is, of course, the most likely explanation, and he admits himself that he has no proof of any of it. Yet part of me still wants to believe him. Perhaps this job is making me sentimental.

And I knooow, Jon was lying and hiding because afraid, but. Still. It had been one of my biggest “OOOH, SHUT UP?!” moment in season 1. How low can you be, to be melancholic about a time when Jon Was Like That.

At the same time, it’s interesting how… Jon’s fake detachment, back in season 1, although absolutely biased and deliberately anti-supernatural, made him sound more… like how you could picture a neutral-uncaring-Archivist. Even in season 2, he was mostly obsessed with the threads going on, the mysteries of the Archives, of the monsters, of Gertrude’s murder. Compared to season 4 in which… with the exception of some recent statements, and although it was just revealed that he had been harming people all along, he was also shown to be softer, more philosophical, more emotional over the victims, sparing a thought for them – and acknowledging their status. More human, in a way, than he had been when he wasn’t this deep in…? (Although still self-centred, in a different way, but more on that later.)

- On the subject of echoes and the situation feeling closer: there was also the fact that… Marcus McKenzie had done absolutely nothing to earn what had happened to him, that his targeting was absolutely unwarranted and began when he was just a little kid (“… The first door I remember seeing that shouldn’t have been there must have been when I was five or six. […] So one night – it was in the Christmas holidays, so I must have been six… I wake up. There’s a noise in my room, like something being… dragged along the floor.”) – just… like Jon, who was only eight when he stumbled upon A Guest For Mr. Spider. And we had the proof that Marcus was pursued and toyed with (before eventually getting eaten) throughout his entire life; so what does it say about Jon’s own situation…?

(- And in the list of things just plainly sad: Marcus’s “and I watched my most treasured possession disappear forever, as the door closed behind it, and I ran back to bed.”, accompanying the end of his innocence – since the door kept popping up, more and more sneakily and/or threatening, starting with this incident.

In the list of “aouch” and conveying a lot in just a few words: “all that remained of my worldly possessions were packed up for yet another return to childhood.”)

- Smaller echoes: the way Marcus was, at first, trying to hide that he had seen another door fairly recently (“But they were just… specific, weird little hallucinations that have long since stopped! Haven’t had one in… Well, it’s not important.”) before finally telling about a last encounter that had taken place recently, after fifteen years of nothing – just like Jon had been hiding his current streak of victims (and even gave the lower number before admitting the actual one, when cornered).

- Slow build-up with Jon introducing the statement with a beautiful circumlocution… and finally calling a spade a spade:

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: Statement of Marcus McKenzie, regarding a series of… unexplored entryways. […] But there is one thing I know an awful lot better now, than I did when I read his father’s statement: I know an awful lot more about doors…! [CLICK.]

And… more concerning:

(MAG146, Marcus McKenzie) “And as I passed that empty space of grass, there it was – a pale yellow door, stood all alone, like the entrance to a house that I just couldn’t see. It had no frame around it, but I was sure that if I grasped its handle and twisted… it would still swing open, silent, and inviting. […] The street was silent, but I could feel it screaming at me to open it. I just about managed to not do. I was… just about able to walk away. […] Sometimes, you just have to leave. Even if what’s on the other side scares you.”

And ooooh, do Jon does have his own “doors” – Mr. Spider’s, which he almost knocked on; Michael/Helen’s (and the fact that Elias had described how, in his dreams, Jon “knows the dream it used to lead to; he knows it well. But that’s not where it leads anymore. He does not know what is behind it anymore, and he is deathly afraid of finding out. The Archivist turns away.”); his own inner door of knowledge, with the danger of drowning…

- And Marcus’s case was big enough for Jon to… finally knock (bang.) on a door, which, I think, was the first time we ever heard him do? He was especially adamant about not knocking on this particular door?

(MAG131) ARCHIVIST: Oh. This, this door… It shouldn’t be here. MELANIE: Yes. ARCHIVIST: I, uh… I don’t want to open it. I’m not going to. [MELANIE SIGHS, KNOCKS ON THE DOOR]

(MAG139) ARCHIVIST: Haven’t seen Helen much. The door is… sometimes there, sometimes not. … I haven’t knocked. I’m never going to trust it. Trust… her. … Trust it. [DRY EXHALE] And I shouldn’t. Whatever its relationship to the person who was or is Helen… assuming that I can ever know its motivations is a mistake.

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: [BREATHING HEAVILY, FRANTICALLY BANGING ON A DOOR] [A DOOR CREAKS OPEN] [DISTORTION SOUNDS, BRINGING CONSTANT STATIC] HELEN: You rang~?

I didn’t keep tabs in season 4 but I think it was still a Thing that nobody ever knocks on Jon’s door when they expect him to be inside (… Georgie did in MAG145, but she was pretending to not know), although the assistants did, between them. And of course, knocking on a door might have a special connotation for Jon! It’s what almost got him killed when he was a kid, and ~compelled~ to knock by a Web book!

(And I just realized with this episode that, doors-wise, Martin and Jon actually make the worst combination possible. Jon would have been snatched by Mr. Spider if he had knocked on its door; and on the other hand… Martin stayed holed up inside of his flat while harassed by Jane Prentiss’s constant regular knocking. Jon having a trauma related to being forced to knock to go inside; Martin having a trauma related to something knocking and threatening to come inside.)

- One of the themes mentioned by Arthur in the previous episode also poured into this one: the perception that we have of a person, and how “many” of that same person there is.

(MAG145) GERTRUDE: What was Agnes like? […] ARTHUR: I… [PAUSE] I don’t know. Not really. You got as many answers to that as… folks who met her. Never really knew what she felt ‘bout any of it! Not really. Not in her own words. […] At the end of it, you’re always just the… point of someone else’s story. Everyone clamouring to say what you were, what you meant, and… your thoughts on it… all don’t mean nothing.

We could see a glimpse of that idea throughout Marcus’s statement: in Marcus’s point of view, his father was obsessed with the idea of protecting him, and had made up the story about his own door to try and manipulate him into going back to living with him. That point of view… didn’t age well: Helen confirmed that The Distortion had gone after both father and son, so Paul’s words were likely genuine (and there was nothing about an obsession with his son in his statement). And the theme was, once again, present within both Jon and Helen deceiving people: Helen, who had been fairly benevolent towards the Archives (trapping Jared and neutralising him, allowing Jon to go inside and offer him freedom against what he needed, announcing that she would help the Archives, fetching Jon and Basira back from Ny-Ålesund, swallowing Manuela) was also revealed to have embraced the “feed what feeds you” lifestyle and to be killing innocents without any remorse. In the same way, Jon, whose “monsterhood” had mostly been existential and manifesting through his abilities in the first half of this season, was revealed to have attacked and condemned five innocent people to his nightmares since he woke up – and hid that from both the Assistants and the tapes.

- (“Jack… I was wrong… I was so wrong…………”) => I really wanted to believe in Helen, damniiiiiiiiiiiiit ;; I'd been hoping that Jon was wrong to not trust her, but he was right…

I had hope that Something Had Indeed Gone Wrong with Helen becoming the Distortion, since she had mentioned that Helen hadn’t been “ready” when she had supplanted Michael, and that eating a man had made her feel “wrong”… It looks like she’s not getting second-thoughts anymore about these kind of things. Was it deception, back then? Was it an unavoidable process? Or did it happen partially because Jon pushed her away that time? As far as monsterhood goes, does it have to do with the nature of the Distortion itself? The Distortion sounds like a very particular case, since Helen uses “I” to refer to itself/herself, but also identifies with Michael Shelley and Helen Richardson, while also being able to detach itself/herself from them and refer to them in third person. It… fits The Spiral, obviously, and the whole identity-is-hard, and there is the question of how much what happened to Helen Richardson (being eaten/fusing with/being consumed by The Distortion) can be relevant to Jon’s own experience of… ~becoming~ The Archivist. Back in season 3, Jon had already regarded The Distortion as a “mantle” and was fearing that the same might apply to him – but Jon… did keep his personality, when Helen indeed doesn’t sound much like Helen Richardson anymore/is becoming more and more like Michael and an overall function…?

Though what remained (… officially, unless misleading/lying) is that Helen wanted to help and talk with Jon because Helen Richardson liked him. So, is Helen genuinely trying to “help” Jon by encouraging him to embrace his need to feed, because it’s indeed making him feel bad right now?

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: You… Why…? HELEN: Not sure. I suppose Helen didn’t have quite the same attachment to him as a project. I’m not quite as much for decades-long campaigns of subtle terror, these days. ARCHIVIST: [QUIET] … That’s horrible… HELEN: Is it? We do what we need to do when it comes to feeding, don’t we? … Don’t we, Archivist? ARCHIVIST: … Yes… HELEN: It would be better if you embraced it. ARCHIVIST: … It’s not… […] Were you controlled? HELEN: What a delightful thought! … I don’t believe so, no. But the Spider’s strings are subtle, so I suppose it’s not impossible. Why? ARCHIVIST: I–I want to know; can The Web control another avatar, one that serves a different power? HELEN: [HELEN LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] ARCHIVIST: Make them do things they don’t want to, make them… [BREATHING FASTER] find victims, feed? HELEN: [SLOWLY STOPS LAUGHING] Perhaps! Perhaps not. Would that make life easier for you? ARCHIVIST: [SHAKY EXHALE] HELEN: Are you so sure you didn’t want to? ARCHIVIST: [FRANTIC BREATHING] HELEN: [HELEN LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] [THE DOOR CREAKS CLOSED]

Or is Helen getting her kicks from tormenting him, because he’s confused, unsure of what is happening and of his own actions (=> food for Spiral)?

- Alright so: yeah, no, I don’t think it’s The Web, Jon. At most, She made him leave the Institute when he needed to feed and/or led him towards people with stories (possibly because She knew thanks to the Chelicerae?), through the lighter or something else. But then, Jon talking to them and getting their “stories”? Not, it’s The Eye, it’s The Archivist, it’s Jon, it’s his new status, it’s what his “choice” meant, and he’ll probably have to acknowledge it and come to terms with it (that he’s not only an “existential” monster with powers, but something who feeds from others’ pain). And it’s an influence, but Daisy had showed us that it’s not absolutely unavoidable… as long as you acknowledge the parts of you which are responsible for it.

- It’s not The Web, but we already had proof that She can manipulate avatars:

(MAG121) OLIVER: Honestly, I’m… still not exactly sure why I’m here. But… you know better than anyone how the spiders can get into your head. Easier to just do what She asks!

But not for Jon’s particular case, most likely. (And it’s… really the ideal culprit, for Jon, who hates spiders, who has been traumatised by them when he was just a little boy. But… probably not The Web here, and most likely having to do with himself. I don’t even think that Jon is actually fearing that he is controlled: as Helen highlighted, it would be more of a relief. Would that fear feed The Web although The Web did nothing? And what is the fear of learning that it was you all along, not something else making you do atrocious things?)

- Elias had told Jon he knew that Jon “had problems with moderation” (MAG092), there was the talk about Jon relentlessly seeking knowledge (MAG092, “In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on. You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see.”), even Georgie reminded Jon that he tended to be the one asking dangerous questions (MAG093, “You were always the one who pushed too far, and asked smart-arse, awkward questions.”)… so yes, he was a recipe for disaster re:spooky influence and addiction dealing a god of knowledge.

But the biggest question is HOW did Jon manage to stop smoking, around the time he joined the Institute? (MAG080 “I’m going to have a cigarette. […] Sorry, I’ve been quit for five years now”.) He began smoking again at an unknown time (Elias’s “He’s not smoking again, is he?” in MAG039, Jon had cigarettes on him in MAG080, MAG091 and MAG111…) but. He had stopped, once upon a time. Disaster who affirms that he Cannot Stop at every turn had managed to stop, a few years ago. How.

(Or was it “Ahaha, I’ve quit!” while he was still smoking five cigarettes a day, and in denial about that too.)

- Jon’s way of “defending” himself also tied in with bits that we had already seen previously, and which are In True Jon Fashion: rejecting responsibility when confronted, minimising, etc. It’s… a bit like what he did with Tim in MAG065? He tends to be fiercely defensive when called out about things that he did directly (while more easily accepting blame when things happened due to his inaction, or peripherical to him)…?

(He. Tends to really react like a kid, sometime, and. It’s really Jon. It’s the same Jon, reacting in Jon’s fashion.)

- Fun Thing: we began the season with “zombies” and here we are.

(MAG122) ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE, INHALE] Statement of… er… Lorell St John, regarding… zombies. […] Right… Well, I guess we should probably… let one of the nurses know I’m awake. I’m sure they have all sorts of… tests to do. Make sure I’m not a… zombie, or…

(MAG146) BASIRA: I’ll tell you all what I find. Don’t let him eat anyone’s brain while I’m gone. ARCHIVIST: That’s not what I do.

(And, well. Basira had seen what he had done to Breekon, live.)

- I… am not 100% convinced yet that Martin indeed sent the tape to the Assistants, himself and deliberately. Because true, he was hesitating about finding a way for the tape to reach Jon:

(MAG142) MARTIN: I should probably try to get him this tape, let him know what happened, that someone came in to… But then, ahah, would that just come across as an accusation? Like, because I don’t wanna… And then, then I guess he’d… hear this bit as well, so… I… I… [LONG EXHALE] What do I do…?

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: Been a while since you’ve all come to see me together. I assume it’s… not good news. DAISY: No. MELANIE: What the hell have you been doing, Jon? BASIRA: Martin left a tape for us. [SHUFFLING NOISE] ARCHIVIST: And what exactly is on this t– … Oh… MELANIE: Yes.

… but on the other hand… we know that Martin can begin letters without sending them (MAG042 and Jon finding “an unfinished letter, addressed to his mother in Devon”), so… the most likely is that Martin indeed chose to send it, but I’m not shutting off other options: even if there was a message with it or something, it doesn’t mean that he had indeed sent it, and either Peter either The Web could have arranged for it to reach the Assistants’ hands given the… consequences of hearing the tape.

In any case, it’s probably Not What Martin Wanted, given how he had ranted about Jon jumping into danger at every opportunity, back in MAG142. (I’m curious about how he will react to this one.)

(- I’m glad that “Jess Tyrell” has a name! I was super-uncomfy with the “Bystander” back in MAG142 – and it’s… quite significant that Jon was able to tell her name, while Helen hadn’t been able to identify her victims with theirs. Though: how did Jon understand what the tape was about, in this episode…? Was there a label? Was it accompanied with the complaint? Martin himself didn’t know her name, so he wouldn’t have been able to write it on the paper, but then, Jon could immediately tell what it was about. How…?)

- Basira’s dryness, coldness and harshness towards Jon make… a lot of sense. Jon repeated time and time again that she could trust him, although she was extremely wary of him when he woke up. Her reactions in MAG143 (telling Jon that he didn’t have to face the Dark Sun) hinted that she had either warmed up to him since then, or had been forcing herself to be cautious all this time – at the very least, she wasn’t ready to see him sacrifice himself, she wasn’t ready to “use” him. And now, it turns out that… she had been partially right, when she was berating Jon for being a monster or not being what he seemed.

She snapped at him for taking Floyd’s statement in MAG141 but still allowed it to happen; The Dark’s ritual turned out to have been a bust, encouraged by Elias; and previously, Elias had sent her around on wild goose chases, explicitly acknowledging that he just wanted her to leave Jon alone to allow him to go inside of the coffin (… and Jon coming out of it was followed by a third victim). She’s been played by Elias; she accepted Jon’s actions; and turns out she didn’t manage to accomplish anything since Jon woke up. I’m not that surprised that she decided to rush it to Hill Top Road – Daisy had told Martin that she was prone to improvising, and in this case, it’s probably reinforced by her own personal frustrations? I don’t think that she believes that The Web is behind Jon’s actions – maybe she’s hoping, maybe she’s not; or it could be sheer anger at Jon and the desire to put him face-to-face with the fact that he did it all, that there was no Hidden Spider Forcing Him To Do Things. Or maybe a mix of everything. I don’t know.

- Now that Jon’s activities are known, I wonder how long it will be before the others learn that Basira’s intel had been Elias… I’m not sure that Jon hasn’t picked up on that (since we now have confirmation that he had been hiding things from the tapes for months). Daisy didn’t know about Floyd (which means that Basira had hidden this one from her, already), but making it known that she had been in contact with and listening to Elias all along… won’t go down easily with either Daisy (who had been coerced into working for him, with Basira as blackmail, after her own blackmail when Elias told her “statement never given”) or Melanie (the fact that Elias trapped her, and MAG106… ;;). They… still haven’t picked up on the fact that trying to keep Big Secrets in Beholding’s temple, while Elias is able to spy on them, is an ESPECIALLY bad idea, uh.

(;; And now, I’m afraid that Melanie and Daisy also have their list of Dirty Secrets accomplished during this season…)

(- I HATE HOW THIS SEASON BASICALLY FEELS LIKE ELIAS WINNING AT EVERYTHING, AAAAAARGGGG.

Because Bastard most likely knew and witnessed Jon feeding from people and extorting their statements?! And he mostly used Basira to cultivate Jon into using his powers: isolating him and extending the status quo until Jon would go inside of the coffin, playing on Jon’s uncertainty about The Dark’s activities to get him to meet the remnant of the cult.)

- About Hidden Activities: I’m really not sure that Melanie knows that Helen has been eating innocent people? She disliked Jon, but I doubt she would have been so casual with Helen in MAG131 if she had known?

- Meanwhile, yes, Basira is utterly biased about Daisy, but… she kinda… had a point…

(MAG146) MELANIE: [EXHALE] So. What do we do, now? ARCHIVIST: I don’t know. BASIRA: You’re a danger, Jon. A monster. You’re hurting innocent people. ARCHIVIST: So did Daisy…! BASIRA: Shut up! It’s not the same thing at all. DAISY: Basira… [EXHALE] He has a point. BASIRA: You didn’t know what you were doing! DAISY: [SIGH] BASIRA: And since you did, you’ve spent every waking hour resisting. He knows exactly what he’s doing. ARCHIVIST: I don’t–! Uh, it’s not that simple, it–it feels… [BREATHING QUICKENING] … I don’t know if I can control it, I don’t know if it’s even me doing it…!

Because unlike Daisy, Jon had the knowledge about monsters: Elias excluded, he was the person in the Institute who knew the most about them and what they did. And he kept telling the others to trust him, while hiding the harm he was causing from them. Since she came back, Daisy took responsibility, insisting that it was her, although she wasn’t proud of it and was regretting it; Jon… is currently trying to shift the blame on something else. Daisy made sacrifices since she came back (not going with them to fight The Dark, avoiding thinking too much about Elias…); Jon… didn’t even try at all…? And I really think that it wouldn’t hurt the others as much if Jon hadn’t shown some understanding of their situations, encouraging them to get better, while he (Jon “One thing I’ve learned, Daisy, is that we all get a choice. Even if it doesn’t feel like one.” Sims) himself apparently didn’t try. Even for unspooky things: while Melanie went to therapy, Jon only passive-aggressively confirmed that Georgie wouldn’t accompany him, when she brought it up. Even Jess… had recalled how she had fought to heal and get better:

(MAG142) JESS: So. It… It took a long time to get over that. I mean… That’s not weird, right? I mean, it was a bad time. You know? It–it stays with you. I was signed off for, what, probably about six months, with the injuries? I had pretty bad, uh, nightmares, claustrophobia, I mean… Obviously, right? But, uh, but–but I did my physio, and, you know, talked wi–with the counsellor they gave me? Look, I did everything I was supposed to, and–and yeah, I… I guess I was fine. You know, once the bruises were gone, I… Well, it’s easy to blame memory, right? You know, ha–hallucination, coincidence, all the… classic shite you tell yourself. Look, life went back to… normal, I… I was fine. Until… [CHOKING] about two weeks ago. MARTIN: And that was when you met J– … Er, one of our employees. JESS: … That’s when he showed up.

And both Daisy and Melanie, who had been under influence, acknowledged their feelings and actions as their own:

(MAG131) MELANIE: And then, one day, I suddenly have this thing that takes all that rage, and it holds it. Tells me it’s right. That it’s me. It didn’t stay in my leg because of some Ghostly Masterplan; it stayed… because I wanted it.

(MAG142) MARTIN: Oh, that can’t– that can’t… I mean, it’s not him, is it? Not, not really? It’s, what, addiction, instinct, maybe mind control, something like that? I… can’t believe he’d choose to do something like that. … No, no, I, I can’t think like that, though, I, I can’t let myself, ‘cause I mean, if, if he’s already gone, then all of this is just…

(MAG142) MARTIN: It’s alright. Wasn’t you. [INHALE] Not really. DAISY: No, it was. I hate… a lot of what I did back then; doesn’t mean I’m not… responsible for it, doesn’t mean it… wasn’t me.

Of course, Jon has his issues. Daisy was right about him having PTSD, being self-destructive, being plagued by survivor’s guilt. He’s probably depressed, hence the aimlessness and his whole sinking (the fact that Martin cut all ties was stated multiple times to make him brood). And he’s still acknowledging that what is happening to innocent people is wrong (and it is genuine, and not only a reaction to match the Assistants’ outrage: he was upset, before, both on his own and in front of Helen).

But Jon is not “only” a victim anymore, like he was in season 3: now, he actively causes harm, he hurts people. The way Jess described her life in MAG142, it got utterly ruined and there is likely no fixing (she was in obvious distress, she couldn’t work anymore, couldn’t function; even if she’s supposed to live like this for the rest of her life, we just got Helen mentioning that one of her victims had died of “natural” causes due to his terror – with the amount of stress Jess is put under, she probably won’t live long, and if it’s manifesting like this for the four others… neither will they?).

- That said, I DON’T WANT TIM TO HAVE BEEN RIGHT ABOUT IT, GDI…

(MAG114) TIM: So, why don’t you “Archivist” me, then? Just pull it straight out. ARCHIVIST: Because I don’t want to! I am not your enemy, Tim. TIM: [DISMISSIVELY] Like that matters! These things aren’t human. It’s… instinct. You can’t not. ARCHIVIST: [SOFTLY] I’m still me, Tim. [TIM HUFFS] I’m still… me.

And getting confirmation that no, it’s nooot The Web making him feed, could act as a wake-up call? Or… actually listening to Jess’s tape could, maybe. Because the portrayal she made of Jon was especially upsetting:

(MAG142) JESS: But he just starts talking. Slowly. But real intense. He says he works here, at the–the Magnus Institution and I say what even is that, and he says he wants my story. He says he needs to hear what happened to me. And I… I wanted to tell him to–to–to to go away, I–I wanted to–to to kick him, and run. But… I… [SHAKY DUMBFOUNDED EXHALE] I sit down. […] It felt like… like I was throwing up all those feelings again, and I wanted to, to scream, but instead I just… sat, and calmly told him my life story, and he just watched me. His eyes, like… his eyes, like, we–were… drinking in every fragment of my misery. I can’t… It… [PAUSE] And then it was over. And he looked… he looked at me like he’d just eaten… like, a perfectly cooked steak. You know what he said? He said: “Thank you.” “Thank you,” just like that. Like… like reliving the worst parts of my whole life were just a bit of a… a favour, that I’d done him. And then he left, and, and I… I just sat there, and cried for a while.

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Jess Tyrell, the woman on the tape… [SIGH] She was the fourth. I–I just tried to… I was weak, r–ravenous, I–I didn’t feel… […] I don’t–! Uh, it’s not that simple, it–it feels… [BREATHING QUICKENING] … I don’t know if I can control it, I don’t know if it’s even me doing it…!

And the Whole Thing came up now, not at the end of the season. Which raises the question: why should Jon be kept alive…? The fact that the assistants directly confronted him is a proof that they didn’t totally antagonise him (they would have plotted and thought about a way to get rid of him if they genuinely thought he was… over and done with. There is still the coffin in Artefact Storage.) but… if Jon isn’t even trying to be kept in check, if he’s fated to target innocent people, if he’s not trying to find a way to control it (nor tried to warn the others about it, to be contained or monitored)… there is absolutely nothing differentiating him from the monsters we previously saw? And there is the added looming threat of The Watcher’s Crown? I don’t think the overall conclusion will be that yes, he would have been better off dying, and that Tim actively trying to die was The Only Respectable Way Out. I think there is probably still ways to do something meaningful in their current situation? But there is the fact that, right now, Jon isn’t paying the price of his powers anymore (his victims are) and that, as far as they know, there is nothing else than The Eye’s ritual in front of them.

- It feels like what’s currently happening also had to do with Jon’s overall passivity regarding his powers. He had told Georgie, in season 3, that he couldn’t stop his research. He had realised, in America, that he was indeed dependant of statements, and had decided, at that moment, to just accept it since he didn’t have the time to interrogate it (since there was The Unknowing coming closer – but after he woke up, Jon didn’t have… much to do, and it would have been the moment to ponder about it). It was highlighted with Jon’s passivity around the tape recorders, contrasting with how Basira had chosen to… woosh them away:

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: And we’ve got an audience. Perfect. I thought you said you decided to throw them all out. BASIRA: Yup. And I did. And here’s another one. ARCHIVIST: Maybe it’s hungry. BASIRA: Seriously? ARCHIVIST: I mean, I did have a statement I was planning to record. BASIRA: Great. Perfect. You can get on with that, and I’ll just leave, then.

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: [DRY EXALE] There was a tape recorder waiting for me when I sat down. They’re not even hiding it anymore. There weren’t any tapes from when I was… away – I checked. Whatever they are, they are here for me. I suppose I should be worried, but I have so much to keep watch over. So I’ve decided to let the tapes run. They’ve… proved useful before, so… [TINY CHUCKLE]

(MAG146) MELANIE: [EXHALE] Why didn’t you record them? BASIRA: Why do you think? Because he was ashamed. ARCHIVIST: No! I don’t– … I–I mean, I don’t record anything anymore, not… not really, I just… sort of assume they’ll… turn on, if it’s important. BASIRA: Well, they didn’t. ARCHIVIST: … No, I suppose not.

(Also: eff you, tape recorders, for not thinking that these people’s stories were Important :<)

And it was also shown in the way Jon… kept saying that he couldn’t control his Knowing:

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: [STATIC] Look, I don’t know, Basira. I hope I’m still human, but it… but it’s seeming more and more unlikely. BASIRA: … I didn’t ask. ARCHIVIST: No, I suppose you didn’t. BASIRA: Don’t snoop in my head. ARCHIVIST: I’m not “snooping”, I’m not looking. That’s not… how this works.

(MAG128) BASIRA: You heard me. Don’t ask about them, and don’t know about them either. ARCHIVIST: I can’t exactly control that! BASIRA: Learn.

(MAG133) DAISY: [BREATHING HEAVILY] Basira said you could just… “know” all this now anyway. ARCHIVIST: Yeah, it’s… I–I can’t really… control it.

(And unless he lied to us about it too, he kinda managed to keep in check for Martin’s and Basira’s activities, in the end, when they pressed him to stop? So… maybe, sadly, being firm and cutting Jon on his bullshit is the only way to get him to actively try to hold on.)

- Daisy seemed to have picked up on a pattern regarding Jon’s feeding, though, which is that they happened after he used his powers in new ways and/or experienced another Fear and/or got hurt by spooks:

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Jess Tyrell, the woman on the tape… [SIGH] She was the fourth. I–I just tried to… I was weak, r–ravenous, I–I didn’t feel… … The first was a supermarket cleaner. Em, ended up lost for a week in an endless warehouse. I didn’t even…! I–I just went in for some shopping, and he was there, and I–I just… asked. The second was, uh, it was after I got… stabbed by Melanie. MELANIE: You are not putting this on me! ARCHIVIST: No, that’s not what I meant! [SIGH] I was walking the streets, I–I thought I was trying to clear my head– DAISY: [DELIBERATE] But you were hunting. ARCHIVIST: … Apparently. I found a woman who… every year on her birthday, wakes up in a fresh grave. Just for her. DAISY: And the third was after the coffin. ARCHIVIST: A man rejected by all who knew him, searching ever-darker places for love. When he told me his story, he started… weeping maggots.

So: first one after waking up from the “coma”, second after using his powers to see and remove Melanie’s bullet (and getting stabbed), third after coming out of the coffin, Jess Tyrell… after trying to peer through the Lonely (at the end of MAG139). There is still Floyd: why was he recorded? Is it because he had been involved with someone we already knew (Salesa)? And how come there was nothing after The Dark – is it because Floyd worked as a power up/healing by anticipation?

- I’m sad for Daisy!! ;; Daisy, who had spent time around Jon, who had shared things (The Archers!!) with Jon, and who was giving the impression that she was pulling him off… She sounded like she could understand the mechanism, but at the same time, Jon… didn’t tell her. Too ashamed? Not trusting her enough? So deep in denial…?

- DAISY CALLED MELANIE “MEL”!!! FRIENDS!!!

(MAG112) DAISY: Couldn’t find Tim, but he’s gone with Martin and… the other one. BASIRA: Melanie. DAISY: Sure.

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: … So we’re going with her. DAISY: [SIGH] Come on, Mel. I’ll see if I’ve got a stab vest in your size. MELANIE: … Yeah. Sure.

Daisy came so far, with her ;w;

- On the one hand, it’s hilarious, indeed, that Melanie acts like a voice of reason.

(MAG146) MELANIE: Uh, okay, seriously. [CHAIR SQUEAKING] I–I’m going to have to be the one to point out that this is a terrible idea? BASIRA: Daisy? DAISY: … Be better if we could prepare. MELANIE: I–I just think that… we shouldn’t be exposing ourselves like this until we have a little bit more than a hunch…!

… On the other hand, we still don’t know if her therapist is a Regular Therapist or a potentially Web-y spook, so the fact that she was inciting the others to not go to Hill Top Road… could be due to an influence. … Or not, and it’s just regular therapy putting some common sense into her.

- The Annabelle mentions were interesting because:

(MAG146) BASIRA: … So you say you’re being controlled. ARCHIVIST: I–I don’t know. Maybe? Th–The Web, it– BASIRA: What, what was the name you said before? Annabelle Cane? ARCHIVIST: … Yes, uh, she’s… she’s been watching us, I–I’m pretty sure of it… DAISY: Jon… I’m not sure there’s actually the– BASIRA: No. No, if he is being controlled, we need to know. And we need to know now. Do you know where she is? ARCHIVIST: H… Not… not properly, I, I think she has some connection to Hill Top Road.

1°) … we have no connection between Annabelle and Hill Top Road as of now, except that both are Web-business. (Not all Spiders, Jon.)

2°) When Jon discussed about Annabelle Cane in MAG136, it was actually with Daisy! So either Jon has been sharing some thoughts about her with Basira, either Daisy told Basira (which would match with Daisy communicating overall!).

- On the one hand, Jon hypothesising that The Web could be behind the fact that he has been attacking people sounds like something he might have thought about because he just heard Gertrude (another Archivist) mentioning how she had been manipulated into doing what She wanted, in her own youth:

(MAG145) ARTHUR: Alright. Agnes: how’d you do it? Never did understand it, not really. GERTRUDE: Ah. That’s a fair enough question. [PAUSE] It was… The Web. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, and I would call it an accident – but it never is, with them. It’s only after the fact that you can see all the subtle manipulations. I was very new to it all, of course. I mean, I was, what? Can’t have been older than… twenty-five. […] Like I said, mm, I was young. Naïve. I somehow found just the right books, made just the right connections, and even got what I thought was a piece of blind good luck, when I found a tin box in the ashes of Hilltop Road, containing some perfectly preserved cuttings of her hair. Of course, what I thought was a “banishment ritual” turned out… not to be. The circle I constructed was more of a… an invitation. It let the Mother of Puppets bind me to Agnes, interweave our existences at some… metaphysical level, as it had with Fielding and the house. … It was the most painful experience of my life.

On the other hand, Jon… researched quite a bit about the notion of “control” this season, and thinking all along that he might be puppeteered could have been the reason behind that?

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: The Web does seem to have a preference for those who prefer not to assert themselves. […] Perhaps a coincidence, just… people… shopping their traumatic event around… but I have to wonder… how much their actions were their own.

(MAG125) ARCHIVIST: In many ways, The Slaughter fascinates me. There seems to be, in all cases, a question at its heart about… control. Is it a mindless dance, dragging participants along by the beat of a drum or… is there a kernel of will in there, a lucidity and deliberateness to the random fury and violence? I suppose that’s the question with so much of “violence”, “war”: how much are you really in command of yourself or of others? I’m not sure what scares me more: the idea that deep down, everyone is in complete control of their actions, that everything is, on some level, intentional; or that ultimately, we don’t have any control of ourselves at all, and the rest is just… rationalisation.

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: I don’t like this. I don’t like… not being sure what’s going to be in my mind. What thoughts are mine and what are from… elsewhere.

(MAG136) DAISY: You think I’m weak, just… [SIGH] ‘cause I’m not already chasing the next kill? You think I’m less me? ARCHIVIST: I… [SIGH] I don’t feel like I’m exactly in the best place to judge the… intersection [CHUCKLE] between free will and humanity. Still trying to figure that out myself. [SILENCE] DAISY: Jon… when you went into the coffin. Was it you choosing to do that? Did you actually think you could save me, or was… that something telling you to do it? [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: It was me. I was… drawn to it, I’ll admit, but it was my decision.

Though it was, once again, a consideration which was also relevant to his Beholding powers (the fact that he knew things unprompted).

- Since Peter mentioned his belief that The Extinction could have been born from The End, although taking an active form, I still wonder if that could have been the case originally between The Eye and The Web, or if they aren’t currently merging due to the information&control-related fears being especially overlapping with our era’s development of the means of communication…

There have been so many moments, this season, in which I wondered “is it the Web, or Beholding?”, and especially in the way Jon got dragged towards x or y statement. Trying to get an overview of season 4 regarding the nature of statements and how Jon stumbled upon them (when he was the one reading or listening), there are… recurring threads? (ha.)

* MAG121: Oliver’s statement, about choices; Web interested in Jon.

* MAG122: (Statement brought by Basira; feeling like the only person left in the world)

* MAG123: Web & Annabelle, link with the Institute

* MAG124: (Simon Fairchild casually feeding)

* MAG125: Slaughter statement, notion of “control”, led to Melanie’s surgery

* MAG126: Pre-Spiral ritual

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: … I remembered Gertrude’s notebook […]. I’ve been staring at it for hours, in the hope something from it would just… come to me. And it worked well enough to point me towards this statement, which is… useful background, and perhaps gives some insight into how Gertrude formulated her counter-rituals, but… not much more.

* MAG127: Jonah Magnus & Beholding (Albrecht)

(MAG127) BASIRA: And what was that you were doing yesterday? ARCHIVIST: … When…? BASIRA: You were sat on the floor for like four hours. ARCHIVIST: … Oh! Er, n–n–no, I was, er, I was… listening. Y’know, it’s, trying to see if any of the statements… called to me. BASIRA: And? ARCHIVIST: [FLIPS PAPER]

* MAG128: Breekon’s visit, Jon “extracting” his statement; going towards Daisy’s rescue

* MAG129: Buried statement, notion of “anchor”, going towards Daisy’s rescue

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: I don’t like this. I don’t like… not being sure what’s going to be in my mind. What thoughts are mine and what are from… elsewhere. Why I just know some statements are what I should be reading. I assume this one is related to the coffin. To Daisy.

* MAG130: Flesh ritual (Lucia Wright surviving it), nudging towards Flesh-as-anchor or Jared (kept in Helen’s corridors), towards Daisy’s rescue. Tape explicitly sent by The Web.

(MAG130) ARCHIVIST: I found this tape tucked in the corner of my desk drawer. [AGGRAVATED SIGH] Covered in cobwebs. I suppose subtlety is gone out the window a bit. And the question is now simply … how much I trust the Spider to have my… best interests at heart. … Hm. I suspect my assuming it has a heart might be a clue I’m looking at this the wrong way. […] what is it trying to tell me with this? Is it about… rituals? About getting Daisy back? About… about an anchor. What was it she said, “the siren call of Flesh”… Hm. It’s possible, I suppose.

* MAG131: Jared’s story (bit of Flesh ritual), notion of “anchor” through Jon’s ribs, going towards Daisy’s rescue

* MAG132: Coffin trip, Daisy’s rescue

* MAG133: Hunt ritual (Percy Fawcett surviving it)

(* MAG134: Martin reading Adelard Dekker’s letter about The Extinction)

* MAG135: Pre-Dark ritual

* MAG136: Web & Annabelle, link with the Institute

* MAG137: Slaughter ritual (Wallis Turner surviving it)

(MAG137) ARCHIVIST: There’s a box of tapes and statements in the corner. Obviously those Elias either didn’t feel he could trust me with yet, or maybe just the ones he was checking himself. […] So I just took the first one that called to me, and it’s… [DRY NASAL EXHALE] It’s good. I suppose.

(* MAG138: Martin reading Robert Smirke’s letter to Jonah Magnus, warning him about The Watcher’s Crown/Beholding)

* MAG139: Desolation, Agnes, Hill Top Road

* MAG140: (Statement brought by Basira; about The Dark’s ritual attempts)

* MAG141: Jon feeding on Floyd, statement regarding Salesa’s activities and (presumed) death. The tape recorder activated on its own.

(* MAG142: Martin taking Jess Tyrell’s complaint, about how Jon had attacked her two weeks ago.)

* MAG143: (Jon making Manuela give her statement about the failure of The Dark’s ritual)

(* MAG144: Martin reading an Extinction statement)

* MAG145: Desolation, Agnes, Hill Top Road, “anchor”, The Web manipulating an Archivist and tying them to another avatar in order to neutralise Agnes (/Gertrude too?).

(MAG145) ARCHIVIST: And here? I reached out, I took another tape, eh!, hoping for a bit of guidance, but… [HUFF] To be honest, this hasn’t helped.

* MAG146: Spiral-statement, Hill Top Road.

(MAG146) ARCHIVIST: So it seems we did have Marcus McKenzie’s statement after all. I spent so long looking for it, back when I found his father’s, and… no luck. But now, I decide to start looking properly into Hill Top Road, and all of a sudden… I’m drawn to rearrange a filing cabinet – and what do I find behind it?

When Jon “knows” something, it’s clearly Beholding, no problem. But when he feels the “call” of a statement, is it Beholding/the Archives, or is it The Web making him take one, and Jon rationalising that he had felt something? Most statements, this season, have involved Web and/or getting the means to save his assistants (/getting involved with other Fears), and/or learning about rituals – and now, about Hill Top Road. A lot of them seem possibly… pointed?

- Same old questions: we can guess that The Web has plans for Jon, hence the lighter, hence sending Handsome mlm Death Prophet Oliver to convince him to choose avatardom, hence the cobwebs following him around (Jon mentioned them in MAG123), hence revealing itself when sending him MAG130’s tape (and encouraging him to go inside of the coffin, and possibly helping him come out of it, if it was indeed The Web which made Martin set up the tape recorders around it?). But ~what does the Spider want~? Is Jon supposed to fix the “scar in reality” left by Agnes&Fielding’s fight, somehow, since he managed to do things that had never been accomplished before (getting out of the coffin) and has proven that he could “kill” powerful phenomenon (seeing the Dark Sun)? And what is Her stance on The Watcher’s Crown, amongst other things…? Is She just there to enjoy the show, is She worried about something (The Extinction?) or has She decided to jump on The Watcher’s Crown’s bandwagon, or does She want to make sure it doesn’t happen?

Georgie had been the one to recommend that Jon find “anchors”, back in season 3, but season 4 expanded the meaning of the word: “anchors” as a way to escape the clutch of a Fear, an “anchor” as a way to neutralise a Chosen One – and Jon likened his own situation to Agnes (MAG139), before learning that she had been bound to an Archivist to put the Desolation’s activities on hold (MAG145), by The Web itself. If The Web was indeed behind a majority of Jon’s readings and researches lately (after all, Gertrude highlighted how The Web had manipulated her through her researches, by orientating her towards specific books and materials!), everything could sound like it’s supposed to slowly introduce Jon to the concept of being, himself, bound to something/someone…?

(- We’ve been putting so much excitement on the prospect of seeing Annabelle, of thinking that Annabelle is currently pulling all the strings, though… that I can’t help but wonder. What if she is actually… dead. Because that would strike quite the blow on a lot of things re: who is currently in control.)

- Practical questions regarding the Hill Top Road trip, from London to Oxford

* Are they going by train? Or by car, and if by car, who’s driving (Basira and Daisy both can drive, it has been mentioned), and does that mean Melanie will get stuck with Jon in the back seats?

* Will they actually reach Hill Top Road, or will something happen before. (Web preventing them from doing so, or even… lonely endless road, courtesy of Peter, if Martin hears about the Expedition and threatens to stop doing his spreadsheets?)

* Will the tree still be there…? Anya had seen it in April 2009 (MAG114) although Ivo Lensik had uprooted it in November 2006, the night of Agnes’s death (MAG008)… (And there was the tree burning in MAG127, that Albrecht/~the master~ had wanted “dead”…)

* What or who will they find, if they manage to reach Hill Top Road? They certainly won’t take The Web by surprise, so if they meet some of Her agents, it will be because She consented to it. Annabelle herself? Another Web avatar? Melanie’s therapist, if she isn’t Annabelle herself? Oliver, once again as a messenger? Adelard Dekker? Weird ghosts from the past haunting the place (Agnes or Raymond)? A Giant Big Spider? Or nobody, and only an item? A message? A Guest For Mr. Spider, for Jon to have a breakdown? Elias and Peter’s 9th marriage certificate from the last four years? A tape or a statement giving them a clue?

Alriiiiiiiiiiight alright alright, unless we’re being dramatically misled, title for MAG147 promises ~Web stuff~. Part of me is a bit sad, because the… exact title had been used for a while by the fandom to refer to something/someone Very Specifically, and it probably means that past that episode, it will be entirely jossed and we won’t be able to use it the same way – but eh, that’s the deal with Speculation overall. Other part of me is “YIIIIIIIIIIIIH” because. Yep. That’s it. Something Is Coming.

Forms of the title have been roughly used by Martin in MAG117 and Elias in MAG106 (and other times, but those two uses stuck with me), but it’s probably going to be about… Annabelle? Although it doesn’t match her official title of ~the Story Spinner~ used in MAG123. It could be something else Web-related, though – we… don’t know much about Raymond Fielding except for how he was getting Babies in the house, technically? Or something else entirely?

As for Events… Martin meeting Peter’s friend (who is a “he”) is still pending, so it could be that, just to make us even more impatient about the Hill Top Road trip. Or it could also be Annabelle or another spider visiting him while the others are off. Or it could be the group at Hill Top Road, so soon. Any of these cases would mean: DREAD. /o/

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #tma liveblog #mag146 #tma season 4 #the magnus archives #long post/#tma spoilers/

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g-on-ef · 6 years ago

Note

Hi! You mentioned in your blog that you needed a distraction and that fic-requesters were free to come your way? If this is convenient, then can I request a damijon fic? One where batfam is overprotective and keeps interrupting the time damian and jon spend together and the two get frustrated? Thanks!

A/N: Of course you can sweetie ^^

So there is no confusion Jon is 14 and Damian is 17

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

He knew it was a mistake to tell Dick that he was dating Jon, he should have listen to his instincts when they told him that it was a bad idea but Jonathan thought he was embarrassed of him because he didn’t want to tell his family about them.

The truth was in the Batfamily you learn that you share everything, the bathroom, food, your dad’s attention; anything you could think of the family shared even when the girls and their personal problems, okay that was mainly Steph but the point is if one had something they had to share with everyone in the family.

So, it was natural that Damian wanted to keep something to himself for as long as he could but Jon wanted everyone to know and Damian just couldn’t say no to those big blue puppy dog eyes so he gave in and told his family.

Of course, the last thing he expected was for Grayson to tell Todd, who told Brown, who told Thomas, who tried to keep it a secret but Drake figured it out himself and told Damian that he was going to need a lot of luck.

Now he understood why he said that.

His worst fear was that he might have to share Jon’s attention with everyone, he never thought that his brothers would do everything they can to keep him from enjoying his time with Jon.

“I guess it could be-”

“Don’t say it,”

“Say what?”

“Don’t say it could be worse because every time you say that something worse happens,”

Jon puffed his cheeks in anger and Damian did not think that was adorable…okay he did but he was not going to say that out loud.

“That’s not true,”

“Our trip to the zoo?”

“Oh, right that was…I mean it wasn’t…okay so it could’ve…”

The look on Damian’s face told Jon that he was right and nothing Jon could say would prove him wrong.

“Shut up,” he said while grabbing a fry and throwing it at Damian, Damian just laughed as he looked around the food court and saw that the close was clear, he then reached for Jon’s hand however, before he could another hand landed on the table making a loud banging noise, poor Jon nearly wet himself at the loud sound that appeared out of nowhere.

“Hey you guys! Tim, Duke, Jay, and I brought you guys some food,”

If Damian had heat vision he would use it to burn Grayson’s smug look off his face right about now.

Meanwhile, Jon was hoping against hope that he didn’t look like he was seconds away from soiling himself.

“I thought I told you Grayson that Jon and I would be getting our own food,”

“True…but since me and your brothers are already here why not get you guys some food,” he said with a huge smile.

Damian wanted to slap that smile off his face.

The rest of the batboys came with Duke giving him an apoligic look, Tim giving him a smug look, and Jason glaring down at the baby supe.

“Ummm…that’s so nice of you Dick,”

“Of course it is, I mean my baby brother is on a date and I really want to make sure you guys have a good time,” he said with a sweet smile, a little to sweet for Damian’s liking.

When Jason placed the food down he also gave Jon a sweet smile.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you hope you don’t mind,”

“N-not at all,” Jon was about to grab his plate before Damian grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t eat that,” was all he said before he gave him his own plate.

“We can share from mine,”

Jon just smiled and didn’t want to admit that he was scared to eat the food Jason got him, mainly because he could smell the spicy condiments coming off of the plate.

Dick and Jason glared at the baby supe while said supe was doing everything not to pay attention to their glares even though it was easier said then done.

Duke and Tim looked at each other before they slapped the back of their brother’s heads.

“Why don’t the two of you go to the arcade while Tim, Jason, Dick, and I finish eating,” Thomas said smiling at the two boys.

He had to admit, Damian and Jon were the cutest thing and while he can somewhat understand Dick’s need to be overprotective with Damian the older boy needed to let go and let him be on his own.

Damian smiled and grabbed Jon’s hand.

“Thomas, you are officially my favorite,” he then pulled Jon away from the mess that was his brothers and headed for the arcade.

“What the fuck Duke?!” Could be heard from the other side of the restaurant and Damian and Jon couldn’t help but laugh.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

He thought of all people Drake would be the most understanding, the one who would let them be and not bother them but he was wrong, he was so wrong.

He turned his gaze to Jon who also looked annoyed and was holding himself back from burning off his brother’s face.

Connor and Tim overheard Jon telling Damian that they should spend some time at the park. Damian agreed and couldn’t wait to spend a nice day out with Jon.

The it was a nice day, the weather wasn’t to hot or cold, not to mention that Alfred prepared them a nice home cook meal, informing the boys that he hopes they have fun.

The plan was simple, eat some food play on the swings-Damian would never admit it to his brothers but he loved the swings they were really fun-and flying kites together. Overall, it was supposed to be a relaxing day…until Drake and the Clone showed up ate their food and asked them what they were doing at the park.

Jon had to bite his tongue to not say anything rude but he was close to snapping and if it weren’t for the fact that he was a little intimated by his big brother he probably would have gone off on him.

“So, where you two planning on flying kites?” Tim asked gesturing to the kites on the floor.

“What do you think?” surprisingly it wasn’t Damian that answered but Jon.

Kon and Tim looked shock for a moment before laughing it off, clearly Damian was rubbing off on Jon.

“Okay right silly question, so what else where you two planning on doing here?”

“Nothing,” the two said simultaneously both wearing matching glares. Tim just shrugged it off and kept eating when neither Tim nor Kon were looking Jon used his ice breath to freeze both their drinks, both of the older boys were shock to see their tongues stuck inside their drinks, Damian was shocked and laughed as he realized that his boyfriend just played a cruel trick on them.

“Wanna go back to my place and play some video games?” Jon asked.

“Sounds like a plan,”

Jon smirked as he took Damian in his arms princess style and flew off, ignoring the muffle screams from his brother and Tim.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

It’s been two years since young Masters Wayne and Kent started dating and it still surprised Alfred how overprotective his siblings were of him.

With Jon being 16 and Damian being 19 you would think that his other grandchildren would stop harassing them and leave them be, Jon has proven time and time again that he wasn’t going to leave Damian and Damian continued to show everyone how important Jon was to Damian.

And yet his other grandchildren-minus Duke and Cass, and everyone wonder why those two were his favorites-and Bruce decided to always interrupt Master Kent and Master Wayne’s dates and it was beginning to take a toll of both boys. Not that he blamed them, two years of having older sibling interrupt your date can get to you. It was a miricale that Damian hasn’t killed any of them.

Tonight was Jon’s 17th birthday and Damian decided to throw a huge party at Wayne Manor, of course this meant that all the batboys and girls were gonna keep a close eye on Damian and make sure that Jon behaved himself, surprisingly Damian invited every superhero but none of Jon’s or his friends which was weird in their eyes.

“Okay guys it’s almost time for the birthday boy to get here,” Lois said, if Dick didn’t know any better he would’ve assumed that Lois had a mischievous look on her face but dismissed that idea. Lois was an amazing woman who would never do anything to harm anyone right?

An hour into the party and Jon nor Damian were nowhere to be found, even Clark looked surprised before he and Bruce approached Lois, Dick and the rest of his siblings followed close behind them.

“Hey Lois?” Lois turned away from her conversation with Diana to look at her husband, his best friend, and said best friend’s adoptive children.

“Yes?” Lois asked with sickly sweet smile.

“Where are Jon and Damian? I thought you said that Jon would be here soon, so where is he?”

“And Damian?” this time it was Dick Bruce looked at his eldest with a disappointed look for interrupting him.

Lois looked at them before shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know, I mean Damian just texted me saying he was on his way but I guess they might have made a stop somewhere in Smallville?”

The two families looked at each other before flying off to Smallville, there was no way their baby was going to lose his virginity to some asshole

(Both families failed to see that they were having similar thoughts)

Meanwhile Lois smirk as she send Talia a quick text

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Talia watched as Damian, Jon, Maya, Kathy, and the rest of the tiny heroes danced around having a good time, she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket.

Pulling it out she saw she recieved a message from Lois who let her know that their families are on a wild goose chase and won’t be back home until morning.

Talia laughed as her son’s plan to keep Bruce and Clark occupided worked.

She looked up to see Damian and Jon kissing one another while everyone else was having fun and not paying attention to the couple since they knew their friends needed some peace.

Talia made a mental note to give Jon his present later, after all a private island where no one, not even Tim Drake himself would find would be the best thing he’ll ever get since he can use it to spend some time with Damian with no interruptions.

#answers asked #megamaximumtreecollector #DamiJon #jondami #jonathan kent #Damian Wayne #Super Sons #writing prompt #prompts

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ladyofmind · 6 years ago

Text

July... Oh, July

Where did you go?

Seems like it was just the other day that I got home from that weekend trip and tried to find my routine again. Yes, I didn’t post much about my Nano camping or victory, but that editing work got done. The book itself isn’t finished, but I need a break!

Where else did July disappear to? Some good things came with my minor query attempt... I am waiting for more answers and managed to find myself an AMAZING editor to help me get this massive series into some shape. (Seriously, message me about her, I will be glad to share!) So yeah, that’s where I’ve been, plus or minus a sugar coma birthday weekend... 32 years old now, and that was way too much food. Well loved and over fed for sure.

As with any of my month end wrap-ups, I do like to keep those hashtag games in one place... For the above-mentioned reasons, I didn’t finish all my games this month so I will try my best next month...

More after the jump...

#wipwordsearch

1- Woods started tuning and testing his guitar before finally deciding on the one he wanted, a wicked little smile of his own forming. Two could play this game.

2- Pulling into the parking lot of Woods' building, Remmy stayed silent again, about what was ahead for Tweet.

3- Malta went in bounding search of Remmy, flying at the man for the second time that day.

4- Unfortunately, Malta took his compliment, despite his eyes traveling Tweet's form as discreetly as he could.

5- "He's certainly got my attention, cute little fishy he is." When both girls gave Tweety a look, she shrugged "You know like plenty of fish in the sea?

6- Tweety wanted to be Woods' muse, his sexy little siren, the thing he didn't take his eyes off of and drew inspiration from.

7- NO TURQUOISE

8- Rounding, she held the giggle at Brandon's confusion, even as the show went on. She felt a bit like those streakers that ran through sporting events, the way she was disrupting things. Though this time it wasn't her fault, but if you're already making a spectacle of yourself, might as well go full on.

9- Grabbing his music player and speakers, she continued on, shirt starting to climb up her back as she walked to the bathroom, tossing it just inside the doorway.

10- Woods wasn’t helping the cause, leaning against the door he held open, a mix of dented pride and cat with the canary.

11- NO BLOSSOM

12- She started to move again, softly swaying to the song.

13- He could tell Bebe was the type to do as Tweety wrote, and now Sly wondered if that was the reason miss Tweety sponged down that particular table so.

14- In Frost's mind, this was what a successful operating business looked like; something he'd been trying to have happen in the years he'd been the manager.

15- He had to think a moment to make sure he hadn't said anything other than a comment on food. He couldn't help but smirk, she looked as if he just said the smartest thing ever, and he knew himself well enough to know that couldn't happen.

16- That left Malta and Tweety to finish attempting to send the men on their way. Of course they were not being forced out, but the party had wound down nicely, and those boys needed to be up early to ship out, so they were trying to be mindful of this.

17- It could be called pretty, even if it sorely needed some updating. She looked past him, down the row of empty spaces, her own history easily meshing here too.

18- NO CHISEL

19- She somehow had bags of stuff again but knew the last stop she needed to make before getting to work; ordering two boxes of assorted cupcakes from her bakery boys, who seemed a bit surprised (she) came back.

20- Tweet just felt it more, the enormous mistake this would be.

21- That didn't quite help because he gripped the edge, and sunk down a little. "Maybe you should take ten first? You don't look so good."

22- Returning her attention to the drinkers, who had abandoned all the empty bottles, moving instead to the couch, swigging from some dented flask.

23- NO ZOOM

24- She'd lost count of them all now, and that probably wasn't a good thing to admit to. Just because she chased after one man, didn't mean she wasn't being tailed by more than enough of her own.

25- "Maybe if I could get another drink? I guess I can't drink through my skin." Deej gave the stink eye to Roger, before shrugging and rubbing the back of his head with a chuckle. "Anyone got an extra shirt?"

26- Woods laughed with a nod to the rest of the group, stepping a little closer to the microphone "I do believe the naughty nurse Trouble just issued another challenge, one we intend to take on."

27- Malta started to sway to the music, causing Tweet to do the same, and then they covered an ear each when the club could hear the way Frost boomed "Lass!"

28- Making a face as he downed the drink, Collar figured partying too hard wasn’t as bad as alliteration. "Good luck sir." He saluted and then wandered off, finding a nice table of random people to bother.

29- She could write a book about how to divert attention from yourself.

30- NO HAPHAZARD

31- Her back ached as if she had jumped into a pool and met with the solid wall of water, stinging her all over.

#CharactersTell

1/7- "Ballentine Rajneesh Siyamak, but you can call me Sly for short." In an old school fashion, Sly bent at the waist. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, and welcome to Soulful. Are you here to see Tweety about the Red Letters series?"

2/7- Sly- "Back in the old country, I slept under the stars, or in a tent a time or two. Now? I suppose one might consider me a hotel camper, if one sees the club's bedrooms as a hotel, even if I hardly use it…"

3/7- Sly- "I know my way around a few things, been around a while. I once managed a spider infestation with a loo brush and pail."

4/7- Sly- "I love the outdoors, big fan of walking around at night, contemplating life in the darkest time of day."

5/7- Sly- "I don't get scared, so I must be telling them? I am not aware I am telling scary stories though, given that I am already often told how terrible I am at noticing flirtatious behavior aimed at me."

6/7- Sly- "Cooking? I am more of a concocter. I make a mean milkshake, and have been known to mix up some drinks and make something new."

7/7- Sly- "I like music, I do, but I don't sing. Not unless it will lighten the mood, and that is a last resort option."

8/7- "Oh? I've never been to camp! Hey fellow campers, I'm Raven, and I'm in a cabin all by my lonesome, stop by for a visit won't you?"

9/7- Raven- "Stargazing? I mean there was this one time, in an outdoor hot tub," *blushes* "We were under the stars but I didn't notice them much…"

10/7- Raven- "Why do we talk about me so much? I want to know about you. What's your favorite activity? I'll try anything once, twice if it's a good time…"

11/7- Raven- "Why ask me something like that? Do you want me to follow you? Because I totally would."

12/7- Raven- "Depends on if I'm taking that dip alone or not. Will you be joining me? I'd do it with you."

13/7- Raven- "Of course I am, anything you want, I'm willing to do, even change for you, so long as you love me."

14/7- Raven- "The bar that was home changed, so that sense of home is gone for a while now. But if you're offering to have me move in with you, of course I will!"

15/7- "Cop" Collar- "Hm, the Intel said that scumbag was here. Better let Nira know Tim's still out there." *texts back and forth* "What do you mean go camping for a while? I wasn't prepared to camp here…."

16/7- "Cop" Collar- *chuckles while unloading car* "Depends on the mountains… More of a poolside camper lately, but apparently I'm stuck in this forest for a few days."

17/7- "Cop" Collar- *finishing pop up tent* "I flirt all the time, ladies love the man thong, men too. Unless you mean a different kind of tent?" *pulls half deflated blowup doll from trunk into tent* "Leftover from a prank, but a good mattress you pervs."

18/7- "Cop" Collar- "I really shouldn't because alcohol starts the party… but I am off duty for a few days before the big bash…" *Chugs a large high proof bottle*

19/7- "Cop" Collar- *bleary eyed* "Always… Where's my thong? WHO TOOK MY THONG?" *spies a guy lost on the path* "You! You must have taken it!" *gives chase to poor guy* (this author spares some details for PG purposes)

20/7- "Cop" Collar- "Oh, great with knots, not so great with shelters."

*finishes hog tying guy with only man thong as rope*

"Collar, dude, it's Nathan Winners. Chef Nathan, you know, your buddy? I never stole your thong! You gotta stop that. Man, Deej owes me for this mess."

21/7-"Cop" Collar-"Usually I'm great at weathering a storm, but in this case, I gotta head back, someone has to help with club security. The big bash is a big deal. If you can get free & bring my man thong, you can get home Wieners." *pats hog tied man & leaves.*

22/7- Chef Nathan Winners- *struggles to get free* "It was a cute joke or pet name the first time. Haha, Chef Wieners. I am never helping Deej by delivering a meal to the woods again. Never stole the stupid thing!"

23/7- Chef Nathan- "I like walking thru the parks and taking the scenic route on my 4am supply runs. It's calm and quiet, plus who doesn't love getting the freshest food to cook with?"

24/7- Chef Nathan- "Did… did you not see what happened this time? That's the worst it's ever been for me. I prefer going alone and wandering the farmer's markets. No danger there, just me and the ingredients."

25/7- Chef Nathan- "I am not adventurous beyond my food. Unless you count navigating the strange people that are my friends, like Collar and Deej."

26/7- Chef Nathan- "I wander and take the long way home on nice days, but never get lost. Probably why a certain cat man calls me whenever he's hungry or lost but not lost."

27/7- Chef Nathan- "Urban legends? Not that I know of. I know a lot of food legends, and there are myths about some of the wilder things that happen in the bar's front of house."

28/7- Chef Nathan- "Is anything weirder than getting hog tied with Collar's man thong? Like seriously… I better get it back to him before he comes back to torture me more."

29/7- Antag Raven- "OMG I SING!!"

MC Sly- "… I suppose that means I shall be forced to play music?"

30/7- Yes! NO!!

SC Collar- "What do you mean no?"

BG Nathan- "You are not someone I want to turn my back on, let alone close my eyes around…" *returns the rope thong*

31/7- Sly- "Tell stories?"

Raven- "Karaoke!!!"

Collar- "Can't we just drink instead…?"

Nathan- "Time to pack, definitely time to leave camp."

#WIPJoy

2- Quick pitch? A women's journey through a life that is 'Cheers' crossed with 'Animaniacs' and surviving mostly sane. That's the Red Letters series!

3- Tweety took a breath before a gorgeously wicked smile spread her face. "Wouldn’t you like to know deary?" Shoulder lifting in a halfhearted shrug, "Probably will have to stick around to find out."

Song- Trouble for me/Britney Spears https://youtu.be/DQNm-P_1VVY

4- Woods started tuning and testing his guitar before finally deciding on the one he wanted, a wicked little smile of his own forming. Two could play this game. #RedLettersTeasers

5- Side char love?

-Malta the Cockney with a bold streak.

-Bebe that crazy friend who makes you do things.

-Roger the lynx cat with an attitude and cupcake addiction.

6- #1randomques Tweet's sorta done this before. But she'd say "It's just a woman's life, full of love, friends, and some legendary stories. It's up to you to believe me or not."

7/8- Tweet's care package includes:

-purple and red pens

-fun notebooks

-new music for her player

-cupcakes

9- Tweet likes pancakes and bacon or chicken fingers with french fries.

10- Tweet's got some food issues, being a picky eater… But Woods, another MC is allergic to cherries.

11- …close enough lol…

"He's certainly got my attention, cute little fishy he is." When both girls gave Tweety a look, she shrugged "You know like plenty of fish in the sea?" #RedLettersTeasers

12- Cupcakes. Thank goodness there is a temperamental cook or two that can make real food too…

13- #1randommques I'm a Gordon Ramsey fan. So, one char would be in trouble for the "herbs" in his brownies. Another might have a distance contest about flinging food, while a third would just be trying to figure out how to frost the chef…

14/15- Tweet has a chef to cook, but left to her own devices, it's candy. Or basics learned as a kid- cereal, quick processed foods, the no cook, doesn't expire for 5 years types of things. So, might be going to the diner to eat.

16- Tweety- "Things were rough growing up, but I always enjoyed chances to be near the water. Pools, oceans, it always called to me.

17- Antag- Brandon- "That's simple. Get off the stage, drink until that night's groupie is ready to play, and pass out around dawn."

18- Collar stepped up to the sink, like he would wash out his shirt, careful to slur his speech as well. "Swell party, til your drink ends up on your gut, not in it." #RedLettersTeasers

19- Tweety- "I can't tell you that. I have a few regrets in my life, but I also try to be a private person, even in the middle of a crowded nightclub."

20- #1randomques - Let's see… My chars are glad that I have managed to overcome bouts of depression, and that I am progressively working on the crippling anxiety. But they are still concerned about what part of the brain "Tim" comes from, and the things he does…

21- Antag- Lady S- "I hired her."

22- Most tech savy- Nira, considering he runs and watching the security system

Least- Deej fries his fur on the jukebox regularly.

#month recap #july #writer #game #characters #characterstell #wipjoy #wipwordsearch #editor

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itsthebats · 7 years ago

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Soulmates

It's Valentine's Day, and Jason and Tim are doing a questionnaire to see who knows more about the other.

AO3

Jason’s kissing Tim when he suddenly stops.

They are in Jason’s house, and they are making out and it’s almost three in the morning when Tim sputters, “Wait!”

Jason jumps like three feet away, startled, and looks at Tim as he sits straight and closes his eyes for a second and then opens them in this creepy way that says he’s got a bad idea Jason’s not going to like. Tim says, “Today I was with Steph, and we were talking about Valentine’s Day, you know.”

“Ugh,” Jason mutters, because they tried. Tim sneaked out in Jason’s house—Jason thought he was a robber and almost shot him—to make Jason cookies, though Tim burnt them and instead of adding sugar he added salt, so they couldn’t eat them. Jason bought him flowers, but walking home someone tried to rob him and the flowers ended up kind of dead. And when they were seeing a movie on the TV and were about to kiss—at least they had that—they turned their heads at the same time and Tim somehow hit Jason in the nose, and Jason’s nose started bleeding. So after the bleeding stopped, they went to the bed and tried to sleep until Tim kissed Jason’s neck and they started making out again, this time successfully. Until now, at least.

“But it’s not anything difficult,” Tim says, smiling. Jason rolls his eyes, and Tim punches him lightly on the shoulder. “We were talking about what we were going to do, and I told her that I was going to come and make you cookies and—”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.”

“Okay, so she told me that a magazine she likes to read—”

“Oh no.”

Tim’s smile gets bigger, and Jason prepares himself for the worst. “There was this questionnaire to see how much you know about your girlfriend or boyfriend. So, she told me that we should totally try to do it.”

Jason looks at him in the eye, tries to think of all the ways this could go wrong—technically, it’s not the 14th anymore so their bad luck has passed, but it could still go wrong: maybe one of them don’t know one really important thing about the other and that messes up their relationship, or maybe they know something the other’s not supposed to know and their relationship ends up messed up anyway.

But it can be fun too, and Jason’s not one to back away from a challenge—this is some kind of challenge, right?—so, what the hell.

“All right, let’s do it,” he says, and Tim gets his phone.

“She texted me the questions,” he mumbles, scrolling down his screen. He sticks his tongue out, and Jason cant’s help but think that he would have preferred to keep kissing him, but whatever. “Okay, I got them. There’re twenty questions. This says that if you answer at least ten correctly, you know a fairly amount of things about your partner, but if you answer more than fifteen, you’re soulmates.”

“You know that’s bullshit, right?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, putting a strand of his hair behind his ear, “but it’s fun. Do you want to start?”

“Okay, but know that I’m going to know everything about you.”

Tim snorts. “You don’t even know everything about yourself.”

“Hey!” he complains, kicking him. Tim laughs. “Stop talking and let’s see who knows more.”

“All right. So.” He reads the question and laughs to himself. “How many boyfriends or girlfriends have I had before?”

“That’s easy,” Jason says, counting in his head. Okay, so, there’s Stephanie, obviously, and… that’s it, right? Or maybe… there was this girl, Lucius Fox’s daughter, but Jason doesn’t think they were together-together. No, wait, wait, Zoanne something, Tim was with her for a while. Two, then?

“I’m waiting,” Tim says, smirking, and Jason kinda wants to punch the smirk off his face.

“Shut up,” Jason says, still thinking. Okay, two then, three counting Jason. Tim doesn’t look like the guy who’s had many partners. That’s it, three. “Three.”

Tim laughs, and Jason curses. “No! I can’t believe you failed the first one. And I’ve told you about them!”

“How many, then?”

“Four! Steph, Zoanne, Ariana, and you.”

Ariana? “Who’s Ariana?”

“Ariana Dzerchenko,” Tim says, as if Jason had a clue. He rolls his eyes and adds, “We were together for a bit. But it didn’t work out. You still have nineteen left, don’t worry. My turn. How many girlfriends or boyfriends have you had? Um… okay, that’s difficult. You’re always bragging about how many people you’ve been with, so it’s kind of impossible to guess. Ten?”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to laugh, because oh boy does he have it wrong. “You think you’re so fucking clever,” he says, smirking, and Tim’s smile goes away immediately. “One, genius. I’ve only been with you.”

Tim opens his mouth, and he only says, “No.”

Jason rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I’ve messed around with a boy or two,” he says, shrugging, “but I’ve never had a boyfriend. That’s 0-0.”

“Whatever,” Tim says, pouting. Jason leans on and presses a kiss to his lips, and Tim’s smiling again. “Next one: what’s something I do that I wish I didn’t?”

That’s really easy. “You bite your nails.”

“True. Okay, you pull your hair when you’re nervous.”

“Riiight,” Jason mutters, because he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. “1-1.”

“What are the last two books I’ve read?”

“Pfft. Try harder, you always leave your books around when you’re reading them. Confessions, from Rousseau, and Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus, from Alexander Pope, you nerd.”

“That was easy. And don’t call me a nerd, because the last two books you’ve read are Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and How to kill a Mockingbird. Neeerd.”

“Shut up, next question.”

Tim sticks out his tongue at him, and Jason cannot help thinking that he looks like a kid with the blue shorts and sleeveless, white shirt he’s wearing. He looks like someone who has just come back from the gym.

“Who’s someone I like but don’t want anyone to know I like them?”

“You love Kim Kardashian.”

Tim groans loudly, and Jason smirks. “That’s not something you’re supposed to know,” he moans, dragging a hand down his face.

Jason shrugs. “Told ya, I know everything.”

“Anyway, you like Bruce.” Jason shakes his head, but it’s kinda true, even though he won’t admit it out loud, not now, not ever. “We’re 3-3. Next question is: what’s the weirdest thing I’ve done while I was drunk?”

“You ate dog food because Conner said you wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh my god,” he moans, and Jason has to hug his stomach because of how hard he’s laughing. “Don’t remind me of that. Ugh. I was sick for an entire week.”

“I still have the video,” Jason says proudly. “Now, what’s the weirdest thing I’ve done?”

“You put on your Red Hood helmet, got to the GCPD rooftop and shouted ‘Fuck Batman’ and then shot the bat-signal.”

“Oh boy, I didn’t remember that. But nope. That’s not the weirdest thing.”

Tim’s jaw hangs open. “What.”

“I put on the Batman cowl—I was wearing my pajamas—went to the GCPD and shouted that Batman was gay. Then I walked to Gordon and told him, ‘I’d be careful if I were you’ and laughed really hard. Someone ordered to arrest me, so I started shooting at the ceiling until I got out and then I don’t even remember. I think I passed out somewhere and Dick picked me up because I woke up in his apartment.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason.”

“I gave up drinking for a while after that.”

“Oh my god,” Tim repeats, looking at him in awe.

Jason smiles and points at the phone. “Go on, go on. I’m winning.”

“You’re so weird,” Tim mutters, but then he asks, “If I started a cult, what kind of cult would I start—what the hell, what kind of question’s this?”

“What kind of magazines does Stephanie read?” Jason thinks of something Tim loves, and less than two seconds after that he answers, “A coffee cult. You’d make drinking coffee instead of water a rule.”

Tim giggles, and says, “Fair point. And you, you’d start a cult against clowns. An anti-clowns cult.”

“Yeah, probably. 4-5, and I’m still winning. How many are left?”

“A lot. Okay—oh my god, all right. Um. What’s my favorite superhero?”

“Sheesh. That’s a hard one. I’ll say… Batman.”

“That was an easy one.” Tim lets the phone away and lies down, his head on Jason’s lap. He yawns and then says, “Yours is Wonder Woman.”

“She’s my girl crush.”

“You don’t even like girls,” Tim says, looking up at him, and Jason pinches his cheek.

“Next one.”

“Who’s the nicest person I’ve ever met in my life?”

And after a beat, they both answer at the same time: “Dick.”

They laugh, and Jason says, “He’s just a sweetheart.”

“He’s good,” Tim agrees, closing his eyes. “But this has nothing to do with us. I mean, what kind of questionnaire is this?”

“A shitty one,” Jason answers, running his fingers through Tim’s hair. “I’m still winning. Heh.”

“Shut up.” Tim opens his eyes, looks at the screen and smirks. “This one’s easy. When’s my birthday?”

“Fuck, Tim,” Jason says, and Tim starts laughing because he knows damn well that Jason cannot remember dates. The only dates he has never forgotten are his birthday and the day he died, and apart from that he can’t remember anything—not birthdays or anniversaries or anything that has to do with dates, he’s so bad at it. “You know—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t remember my birthday. I should be sad, but I’m happy because now we’re even.”

“Oh, yeah? Then when’s my birthday?”

Tim rolls his eyes, waits a second and says, “August 16th.”

“Damn it.”

Tim whoops. “Yes! 7-7.”

“Okay, listen, I’m tired,” Jason mutters, and Tim looks at him with a smug look; Jason punches him in the shoulder, and Tim laughs. “One more question. The question to end all questions. The one who answers it correctly wins.”

“What if we both answer it correctly?”

“Then we are really soulmates. Now, read the question.”

“The question to end all questions,” Tim repeats, grinning. “What’s the most awkward situation I’ve ever been on? No, no, wait. Let me answer this one first.”

“Go on then, you little shit.”

“You were at the manor because you’d been intoxicated with the Scarecrow’s gas, and you were in the kitchen, sat on the island, eating chocolate cookies Alfred made. Bruce walked in and saw you and you were so, so drugged and you told him, ‘You’re the most fucked up dad ever,’ and then you went to him, put a cookie into his mouth, hugged him and said, ‘But you’re the only one I’ve ever had, so I don’t hate you too much.’ That’s your awkward moment.”

Jason cringes, because remembering that moment is painful. Bruce told Dick what happened, and then Dick told Jason, and Jason wanted to die again just because he knew Dick wasn’t going to let him forget that ever. Every time they meet, Dick somehow finds a way to bring that up. Every. Time. It’s awful.

“Well. My turn. The most awkward situation you’ve ever been on was when you were at this meeting with Bruce and you burped really loudly and everyone just shut up and looked at you and Bruce didn’t talk to you for a week.”

Tim winces, then smiles, and he painfully shakes his head. And when he opens his eyes is when Jason knows he’s fucked up. “That was awkward, but it’s not the most awkward situation I’ve been in.”

“Come on!”

“Sorry, Jay. You lose. I win. Boom, baby. I’m the best boyfriend ever.”

“Yeah, whatever, cowboy. But what’s the awkward situation?”

Tim flushes, and Jason now knows that he must know what the awkward situation is. Tim sits and mumbles, “But it’s very awkward.”

“Spit it out, Timmy.”

Tim sighs. “Okay. So. I’d been with Bruce for almost six months, and we were working in this really difficult case, and I discovered something relevant, so I went looking for Bruce. I heard something in his room, and my twelve-year-old-self thought, ‘He’s working out for sure!’ and I, um. I opened the door without knocking, and he—”

“Oh my god.”

“Selina was there, and they—”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I couldn’t even move, I just stared at them from the door, and they didn’t even notice I was there—”

“Tim,” Jason says, and he’s too shocked to even laugh.

“I heard Selina purr and I was so—it was so weird and I didn’t even know what to do. And then Alfred passed by and saw me and screamed, and then Selina and Bruce realized that I was there and screamed too, and it was super awkward—”

“Are you traumatized?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Tim says, and that’s when Jason laughs. It’s an honest to god laugh, and Tim smiles and keeps telling, “They made me sit with them in the living room and asked me if I was okay and if I needed to talk and I was like. No. Leave me alone. But they didn’t leave me alone and I could tell Bruce was dying of embarrassment, and Selina was trying her best not to jump from the window. I swear to god, I will never forget that moment.”

Jason barks another laugh, and Tim tries to put his hands in Jason’s mouth to make him shut up, but it’s pointless because there’s nothing that can make Jason stop laughing after this. He can’t believe that Tim has never told him that, but he also understands him, and oh god, he’s never going to forget this.

“I won, though,” Tim says, and even though Jason is a bit disappointed that he didn’t win, he’s fine because he discovered something new about Tim.

He looks at the clock, and it’s almost five in the morning. He yawns, and Tim yawns too, and this time when Jason leans on to kiss him, the kiss lasts longer and it’s deeper and Jason thinks that he really likes being alive. He smiles, and he feels Tim smile too, and when Tim cups his face with his hands, Jason remembers the flowers and salty cookies and he feels like the luckiest person alive.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” he whispers, and then he pulls Tim closer.

And closer and closer and closer.

#jason todd #tim drake #jaytim #dick selina bruce alfred and stephanie are mentioned #theres fluff #and theres a lot of comedy #jasons gay in this one #theres a lot of dialogue #and its a bit ooc #but whatever #noah writes #dc

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likikoari-home · 7 years ago

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The Abduction Down on Hyperion Road

Description: Alternate London, 1860. Things are going well all around. Business is booming and For the first time in a long time The Inventor is making money again. On to the scene is Jack, A star in town that a great many adore and a great many fear. Things seem like they couldn’t go bad until at least the voyages across the ocean return (or don’t). That is until a report appears in the News: Angel, Jack’s Daughter has gone missing. Many suspect murder, many suspect she ran away. Either way, something must be done to bring her home. and So the adventure begins as investigator team Nisha and Tim are hired to locate and bring her home Borderlands Steampunk London AU

Hi, This Fic is Written in conjunction with Borderland Big Bang/ Borderlands Reverse Bang. an Event that took place on tumblr where Artist and Authors work together to create stories! I do apologise for this incomplete state, I do however plan to continue working on this fic, I also apologise for any Formatting or Paragraphing issue, half of this was written on a phone and the other half written on a computer. Thank you very much for reading my fic and for checking out my Paired Artist Dauverney My Fanfiction.net post (if you prefer reading it there): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12883032/1/The-Abduction-Down-on-Hyperion-Road My Wattpad post: https://my.w.tt/IaPX1c59DL My Artists Tumblr: http://dauverney.tumblr.com/ Borderlands Big Bang: https://borderlandsbigbang.tumblr.com/

Smoke and flashes, These are daily events for star actors like him. The Handsome Jack, Male lead role in the play, Death’s Dances with Gods. He raises his hand in a wave to the crowd, thanking all for their attendance and praise and finally escaping into his house after such a long day. “You’re late.” “What else you expect kiddo? Me to be on time?” The actor let out his loud laugh and picked up the girl, spinning her around. She laughed and screamed until he put her down.

“You’re getting heavy Angel.” “That’s very rude to say to a girl you know.” Angel crossed her arms with a humph, playing up how she was annoyed by the comment. “Oh cut me some slack cupcake. You’re growing. Any day now you’ll be a big girl and I won’t even be able to lift you!” Jack laughed as he lead her back into the study. “That’s right! I’ll be turning ten soon~” She light up, her face bright and excited. “You have to promise me you’ll do something special for me okay!” “Like what?” “uh…” She paused to think for a bit about what she could possibly want. “I know! You should bake me a big fancy cake. just like mom would have” “Do I have to bake it myself? Can’t I just buy it?” “You gotta do it yourself! But don’t worry, I’ll help” Angel said as if she was the best cake maker in the world. “Alright Pumpkin, but for now let’s check up on how your schoolwork is going”

–

A knock rang through the office where Nisha sat, feet on the desk reading the paper. “Tim! Can you get the door? I’m busy!” The man peaked into her cubby. “Busy with What?” “Busy. Now stop makin? the customer wait” she flicked a cigarette at him to get him moving, and he quickly did. The door opened with a loud commotion. A shriek from Tim and a shattering crash. Nisha grunted annoyed and stepped out to see what happened. Standing over Tim was a man everyone in town knew, Handsome Jack. Standing this close she could see how similar the twins really looked, similar angular Features and heterochromatic eyes. “Whatever it is you want Jack you need to calm down and not break anything else” The agitated twin shot around and went over to her, desperation, fear, in his eyes. “Nish you gotta help me! Please!” “You know we’ll help, just calm down so you can talk. Take a seat.” “Now, what happened? Why’d you attack Tim?” “Angel. He took Angel. I know it!” His voice was still shaky and panicked. His thoughts couldn’t be clear, especially if he was saying what she thought. “I told you. I haven’t seen Angel since last week” The ginger stood and rubbed his neck, voice hoarse from the shriek. Jack gave a harsh glare to his twin, his hands clenching again. “Bullshit! She went to your house last night to bring you an invite to her birthday!” “Tim?” “I didn’t see her Jack” “She must have been grabbed somewhere between your places. We’ll go get searching. Tim get ready to go out" Tim nodded and grabbed his Jacket, heading out to the blocks between his house and Jacks as Nisha stayed to keep a watch over him. “You want a drink or anythin’?” “Huh? Uh yeah. Whiskey would be fine.” Even though he was still antsy Tim leaving seemed to help him start to clear his thoughts.

“So, start from the beginning. What happened?” Nisha walked over and sat by him, setting down the platter with drinks and ice. One of the drinks Jack quickly took and downed as he began recalling the events of the day. “I had come home from the theater, the final showing. I spent the evening with Angel helping her with homework and planning her birthday. Once we finished making the cards she convinced me to let her go out on her own to deliver them. While waiting for her to return I fell asleep. When I woke up it was morning and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I went to every house that an invitation was to be delivered to and she hadn’t been to any of them. Tim would have been the first she’d have gone to cause his house is so close. How could she get snagged up so quickly? God, I’m an idiot. Why did I let her go out on her own!?” He was crying. “My little angel…” Nisha sighed. If Jack wasn’t so needlessly angry at Tim, right now he’d have been the one here instead of her. This was nowhere in any way her field of expertise and it was draining to see the grown man crying. “Jack look, everything will be fine. Tim is out there looking for Angel right now, or at least some lead that could get us going in the right direction. You’re not a bad Father.” She would do anything to get out of this, or at least get the man to stop crying. Which slowly, and after a refill of whiskey, he did. “Is there anything I can do to help at all?” “Yeah. You can go back home and stay calm. This panicking thing does not help you, her, or us. You can also prepare a list of people for us to visit and look for her. Also, crying ruins your looks and there’s very few in town that enjoy that.” the last line she added with a laugh, trying to clear the air of the lingering dread. “What would staying home help? I should be out looking for her.” “No, if she got lost somewhere last night the first thing she’s gonna do now is try to find her way home. Or worst case scenario if she was captured by some east city creep she’s tough, and if she escapes the first place she’s gonna try and run is again home. So you have to stay there. Now get going.” She practically booted him out the door, and as she closed it she could hear his mutterings of what he’d do to the dickbag that stole his little girl… and quietly agreed in her mind that she’d bring him there to do it.

The pair had been scouring the streets for a few hours when Timothy finally turned up with a clue. A simple bag filled with invitations. It was found in an alley near a shop selling magical wares, ‘Brothers Atlas’. Entering the store Nisha and Tim looked around. Everything ranging from burglar warding tins to ingredients to enchanted weaponry. “Hey Welcome! Anything we Can help you with today?” The detectives both jumped a bit, startled by the shopkeep’s sudden appearance. Nisha spoke up to the short man first. “Yeah. We’re investigators, searchin’ for a missin’ girl. We found a pack of letters by here. You hear anything last night?” The Irishman shook his head. “Ma’am We’re set up on the east side. We hear everything at night every night.“ Nisha rolled her eyes at the short one’s sass. “Alright, did you hear a little girl scream and get dragged away?” “I don’t think so, but I sleep like a log so let me go ask my brother” The man walked up into the back room.

“So Nisha. Where you think they get all this stuff?” Tim was inspecting a small ivory cat, some kind of luck charm. “Don’t really matter. Not like they got anything illegal in here. Not like we’re cops” “Yeah but It’s still something to think about” They heard bickering coming into the room. Accompanying the short one was a tall one. Silver arms and an eye patch. “Hey, investigators? Who you working for?” “Private investigators. We don’t give that info out. Anyway We’re looking for a missing girl. You hear anything like her getting captured last night” Tall one shook him head. “Sorry Ma’am. Last night was pretty quiet” Nisha grunted annoyed. “Alright boys. Thank you for your compliance “ Before Tim could further question the pair Nisha ended the conversation and lead them out.

Tim stumbled behind her as they left. “Woah slow down- Why’d you leave so soon? We didn’t even get to question them” Nisha kept walking, not missing a beat. “1. You really think those boys would have taken her? 2. You really think that if they did, they’d tell us anything and 3. There more shops around to question. Let’s not waste our whole day in one location, otherwise we might as well not look for the girl. “ Tim thought about it, and nodded. As they Headed into the next store, a place Called Scooter’s Steam Stables.

Jack sat at home, cooped up in his house at the demand of the investigators. But it still felt wrong. “I should be out there helping!” He stood up and went to the closet to pull out his jacket. “But I can’t! What if she does manage to come home? Damn it!” Jack slammed on the closet the pulled it open, pulling on his Jacket and opening the door. “Hey handsome, you going somewhere?” A startled yell and Jack jumped back from the door. “Crap Moxxi What the hell!? Knock when you come over!” The woman gave a loud laugh. “I would but you seem to have gotten to the door first. Now are you going to show me in or not?” Jack stammers a bit but welcomes her in, taking her coat and hanging his. It probably is best he stay and wait for angel. Especially with his manager here now. “So where were you going?” That wasn’t a good question right now damn it. “Uh. To the store.” “In a fervent rage? Also you never go shopping alone. Jack tell me the truth. You know I care for you.” “You care that I make you money" Moxxi gave him a whap on the head. “Wasn’t I your girlfriend before I was your manager?” Jack flinched and glared at her then sighed. “It’s Angel, she went missing and the investigators told me to stay home, But it feels wrong! Angel’s my sweet little girl, I need to be out there, helping her….” “Well then get out there. I’ll hold down the fort for you.” Jack looked at Moxxi to see a rare expression, a heartfelt smile and empathy. Jack nodded and without another word slipped on his jacket and dashed out. Heading straight to Timothy’s

Tim and Nisha Poured over what they had gathered for evidence. Which was honestly just a pathetic amount of one bag of dropped letters. No snow or soot meant no footprints, back alley on the east side of london meant that even if there were signs of a struggle it would be impossible to know if they were from Angel or not. No one claimed to have heard anything. The trail was going cold. Nisha downed a whiskey and looked at Tim. “How are we out of leads already? This Is THE Handsome Jack’s Daughter. The News has already printed her absence in the paper! There has to be some sort of lead somewhere!” “Thanks for pointing out the obvious Nisha. It Really helps the process” Tim sorted through the letters, checking for if there would be any clues or ‘A-ha!’ Moment’s hidden in them. “Also could you Not drink right now. It’s not helping anyone” “Tim shush. Your Sarcastic assholeness is way to Jack right now. And the whiskey helps me think” Tim just continued looking. “Why was she even out delivering these on her own? It’s not very like Jack to let her do anything unsupervised… “ Nisha leaned back in her chair. “Don’t ask me like I know. Maybe she convinced him it was some kind of right of passage in to growing up” Tim looked at his own invitation with confusion. “That just doesn’t make sense Nish. She was only turning ten.” Nisha suddenly sat up. “Wait how old?” “Uh Ten?” Nisha shot up from Her Chair and grabbed tim dragging him out the door. “Woah Nisha Slow down! What did you figure out?” Why did she always have to do this… “Ten! You had a hunch about that Magic shop didn’t you? Well now it’s starting to make sense. Magic Powers start to manifest at the age of ten! If hers started to show while she was out on the street, maybe near a magic shop that claim they didn’t hear anything…” Of course “So We’re going to go on a stake out and see if we can find any evidence?” ”Exactly”

#borderlands #borderlands reverse bang #good dad jack #oh know angel #sorry about my mess ups

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