#I’m still playing on my Mac and the resolution is already shit :( I hope I can have better quality pics as soon I’m in my home!

[softle0]

Day 1. Under The Sun - Cuco

I can hear calling, say my name

day one of 30 songs challenge by @nikittytrait

I’m soo excited for this challenge! I already have all the songs I’ll be using, I took them from my liked songs on Spotify so I can get some challenging songs and I can tell you, this is gonna be so fun to me cause almost all of the songs have different vibes so we’ll see what I come up to :pp I even did notes on my phones with every song with the ideas and vibes I have for every sim lol I’m very committed with this hahaha :p

[lacebird]

💜  HOW TO MAKE A GIF WITH PHOTOPEA 💜

Hey everyone! I recently got asked to do a tutorial on how I make my gifs. I know that many people (such as myself) don’t have access to Photoshop for various reasons but they’d like to get into gif making. When I started making gifs, I only had a free trial of Photoshop, but when that ran out, I had to find another way to make gifs. Enter Photopea! A free, web-based software that you can use anywhere and that works just like Photoshop! 

In this tutorial, I’ll teach you how to make a basic gif like the one I did above. I use a macbook air, but it should be doable on a regular pc too!

If you found this helpful, feel free to share it with your friends! The tutorial can be found under the cut below 💜

THINGS YOU’LL NEED

A browser (I switch between Safari and Chrome, more about this later)

A screencapping software (like MPlayer OSX Extended) or, alternatively, a presentation program like Keynote or Powerpoint.

A program to screenrecord or a program that let’s you download from YouTube 

Lots of patience bc gifs are annoying little shits <3

1. GETTING A VIDEO BY SCREENRECORDING

First things first, you need to have the clip you want make a gif out of. There are plenty of ways that you can get them. I’ve seen some gifmakers say that they torrent entire movies and gif from that. The way I do is I screenrecord the part I want to gif directly from where I’m watching the movie or show (like Disney+ or Netflix [or something like 123movies if you’re a pirate 🏴‍☠️)]). That way, I don’t have to download the entire movie and I have just the part that I want.  

To screenrecord, I use my macbook’s built-in program called Screenshot. 

Open the program by pressing ctrl + command + 5 on your keyboard and you get these funny little buttons.

Click on the button that says record entire screen. The program is now recording your screen. Play the scene and make sure you expand the video into full screen so you get a full resolution. When you’re done, click the stop button that is at the top right of your screen (next to the wifi and battery symbols.)

If you don’t have Mac, I suggest you look into how to screenrecord on your computer, as I don’t know how other operating systems work. Sorry!

1B. GETTING A VIDEO FROM YOUTUBE WITH CLIPGRAB

Another way you can get videos is from Youtube. I use a program called ClipGrab for this. Download and open the program. You’ll get this window

Simply paste the link and chose the highest quality, then click ‘grab this clip!’. Done!

2. SCREENCAPPING

After we’ve obtained the clip we wanted, we can do this two ways. The first way is to use the program MPlayer OSX Extended. Here’s a tutorial on how to set it up, make sure you do this if it’s your first time using the program. Make sure that you have a special screenshot folder!

Open MPlayer, then go to file > open and find the video of the scene you screenrecorded or downloaded. MPlayer will now play the video. Use the left and right keys (< and >) to go go backwards or forwards 1 minute, but try not to move around too much because the software crashes if you do. If that happens, just click the reopen button when the popup comes on, and reload the video again.

When you’ve gotten to the point you want in the video, press the command + shift + s buttons at the same time and the program will now take a screencap of every single frame until you stop. 

If everything goes smoothly, you should find all your frames in your screenshot folder that you’ve made before when setting up the program! 

2B. USING A PRESENTATION SOFTWARE TO MAKE A GIF

If you want to skip the screencapping part and you want to have a fully completed gif, you can do the second option. That’s what I used to do before I got MPlayer. In my experience, it’s a really fast way to make a gif, but the quality isn’t really good. 

Here’s a tutorial on how to turn a slide into a gif in Keynote.

Here’s a similar tutorial on how to make a gif on PowerPoint.

Basically, you make sure that the size of your presentation is the same as your video, and that you make sure to export one slide into a gif. Also make sure that you export in the highest quality!

3. LOADING THE FRAMES IN PHOTOPEA

Finally, we can start giffing! As I said at the start, Photopea can be used anywhere, but I switch between Safari and Chrome. The reason why is that if I upload the frames in Chrome, the frames will be out of order. In Safari, that doesn’t happen, but the downside is that once I start editing, Safari will reload the page because it takes up too much memory. 

So, first I go to photopea.com on Safari. I click New Project and put in the same dimensions as the screencaps (in my case, they are 1440x900 px). You’ll get an empty project. 

Then click file > open & place and select your screenshots. Wait until Photopea has loaded all the frames, then, at the speed of light, quickly click file > save as psd before Safari reloads! You’ll find it in your folder where all your downloads are.

Next, I open Chrome (I use the incognito window because I have adblock on my usual Chrome, the program won’t work as usual if you have it enabled) and I click Open From Computer, locate your saved .psd file that you saved from Safari. 

Now, you’ll see all the frames as individual layers. Select everything by clicking on the first layer, then golding the shift button and clicking on the last layer. Press command + G to group the frames into a folder. Here’s how everything should look after you’ve grouped the layers.

^^ See how Agnes approves! Agnes things you’re going a great job!

Now, it’s time to crop the gif and get rid of the black borders. Making sure that the folder is selected, click on the crop tool (or press C) and click on Fixed Size

W is Width and H is Height, write in your sizing here. Tumblr’s max width is 540, so I put the width as such. For the height, I use 405. Then you just drag the corners until you’ve selected the part that you want, like this

Press enter and the image will be sized down 540x405 px. 

Now, our gif looks like this after cropping!

Open the folder so you can see all the layers. Select all your layers and right click on them, then click rasterize. 

Then, go to layer > animation > make frames. You’ll now see that each layer begins with _a_ - this is crucial because this is how Photopea knows that the layers are part of a gif. If your layers don’t begin with _a_, then it will not play as a gif

If you instead already have a gif done, all you have to do instead is simply click open from computer when you first open Photopea and load your already finished gif and it’ll have the _a_ at the start of every layer. You won’t have to go through the steps of loading your frames into a new project to make your gif as it’s already done and in a folder :) Just start cropping once you load it

You can preview your work by going to file > export as > gif. Make sure to change the speed in the preview window until your gif plays the way you want it! I put my speed at 500%

4. SHARPENING

Hooray, we now have our gif! But to make it look a little nicer, it’s good to sharpen it. I always use Smart Sharpen when I sharpen my gifs, and many other gifmakers use that too. It’s really good :D

To sharpen your gif, again, make sure that all your layers are selected. Go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen. I use two different settings for my gifs, it really depends on the gif.

Setting 1 (which is the default setting)

Setting 2 

 Again, it depends on the gif, play around until it looks good to you!

Here’s our gif after sharpening it 

I ended up deleting the last few layers as the gif got bigger than 10mb (that’s Tumblr’s file limit, it your file is bigger than 10mb, it won’t upload). I also added a gradient map and it made the file size smaller, more about that in the next segment!

5. COLORING

Here’s the fun part! Now we get to play around with the gif, making it brighter and look Extra Nice™!  Since this is a black and white scene, I make sure that the blacks and the whites really pop. 

Notice how in the original scene it’s not actually b&w, it has a slight sepia tint to it. I want to remove this, so I add a gradient map by clicking on the white square with a black circle (I want to point out that we’ll be clicking on this button a lot in this step)

and I change the blending mode to Saturation

Then I add a curves layer using these settings

Then a second curves layer

Brightness/contrast 

Then my favourite! Selective color! First layer, I deepen up the blacks

Then another selective color layer, this time the whites

Lastly the neutrals

Here we have the final results!

Wasn’t this a gas! I hope this helped you out, let me know if you want to know anything else about gifmaking, I’m happy to help! Also, sorry if I wasn’t very clear, I’m bad at explaining 🙈

MORE RESOURCES:

Here are some other tutorials that are really helpful in making gifs. These users use Photoshop, but you can still use their tips most of the time in Photopea too, you just need to play around and see what works for you!

Gifmaking for beginners by @chloezhao (this one saved my life)

Pale coloring tutorial by @itsphotoshop

Two-Toned Gif Background by @clubgif​

Text with white outline tutorial by @anya-chalotra​

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 11

Seats were limited by the time I got to the small dressing area turned conference room, so I opted to stand against the back wall instead of stepping into a crowded aisle. Plus, a standing Liv would catch his attention sooner than a sitting one. Within 5 minutes of waiting, Mendez sashayed through a side entrance, championship belt undoubtably in tow, clashing with his red, yes, RED suit of choice. Jolly ol’ Saint Nick himself would’ve turned up a nose in disgust. He took a seat, propping his prized possession in display on the white table. Prayers of pleading rolling through my head that this blatant narcissist wouldn’t drain all the life out of the room with endless ramblings for the upcoming hour. Right now, it wasn’t this particular fighter that I needed answers from. Thankful for a recording device, I muted most of the repetitive questioning until I was ready to join in. 

“Yeah, Miss Elliott in the back there,” he selected.

“Congratulations on the victory, Danny. I was wondering, if Colton were to call you out for the title again, would you accept?”

He chuckled, “ I mean, yeah. I beat the guy once, so I wouldn’t have a problem doing it again. All jokes aside though, honestly, the guy is scrappy in the cage. I’ll give him that.” In Danny Mendez translation, that was a compliment.

His session ended with mumbling something about having a bottle on ice and blah, blah, blah, leaving us now to wait for the losing man of the hour. Upon 15 very exasperated minutes, two reporters withdrew due to justified impatience of Colton’s delay. Amongst the growing chatters, the black hands of a clock at the rear of the room ticked noisily, it’s repetitive soundtrack creating a deafening echo amid the whispering gallery. After what I assumed was at least 25 minutes passing, an unidentified blonde wearing some sort of badge on her hip, resolutely marched her way front and center.

“Alright guys, that’s gonna be it for tonight. Sorry to disappoint.”

I teetered between irritation, and concern. Was this one of his rebellious PR stunts? Or was he currently being rushed to the nearest emergency room for some kind of growing side effects resulting from an unanticipated injury? I would’ve liked to think Mac, Beth, or perhaps some member of his team would’ve had the courtesy to think of me if that was the case. However, after the cold shoulder from Colton earlier, maybe I was no longer in the inner circle. No longer one of the “popular kids.” Surely, I hadn’t already been tossed aside to join the other outcasted groupies already?

We filed out of the room scattering down different hallways, and I withdrew my phone from my purse. Seeing no missed calls, I decided to lean on relief rather than panic. When I pushed the panel opening the parking garage door, I slid a single key between my middle and index finger. A defense tactic that Colton stressed as dire necessity when I was alone out in the city, at night especially. In his words, I was evidently “green” to the harsh reality that there were indeed violent people here, who’d stab you for the 14 bucks you had in your wallet, and the busted Coach knockoff hanging over your shoulder. Back in Indiana, we didn’t even lock our cars most nights, so Colt’s enthusiastic warnings about his own close call with a mugger, did not fall on deaf ears. If any brave, or entirely ignorant individual had the gall to attempt a robbery on a barrel chested man such as my guy, they’d see me as a sure score.

I double tapped the unlock button opening the driver door, and intently scanned the surroundings when my headlights ignited. I sat aimlessly staring at the blank screen of my phone, the thunderous internal battle now underway.

Call the clueless fool, Liv. Give him the scolding he deserves.

The devil on the right: NO chance. Leave the bastard wondering where you’ve gone. If you’ve made it home safely.

Back to the left. CALL HIM. What if something bad really is going on. You’ll never forgive yourself if he’s hurt.

That was all the convincing I needed. I truly couldn’t live myself had he been unconscious in a hospital bed, suffering from some life-threatening contusion with me not at his side due to my hurt feelings. Vindicated, even still.

“It’s Colton. You know the drill. Leave a message or don’t.”

“Um, hey Colt. It’s Liv. Which you obviously know. Anyways, just checking in with you before I head home for the night. Call me back. Wanted to make sure you’re okay. Uh…yeah, that’s all. So, call me back. I love you.”

I gave myself 5 minutes in the warming car for a call back before my mind spoke up. If he is indeed hurt somewhere, a call to his phone would not be sufficient to reaching the root of the problem. So, one measly text to Beth, then I really would engage the silent treatment.  

L: Sorry to bother you so late, Beth. Just checking in on Colt. I can’t seem to get in touch with him. Wanted to make sure he was alright.

The indicating bubbles of reply danced quite timely after I had hit the send button. I was impressed by the youngest generation of the baby boomer era and her swift technological skill.

B: No bother, sweetheart. He left the arena not long after you hurried off to the conference. Said he just wanted to call it a night.

So, the bastard wasn’t on his death bed in the back of some ambulance after all. Or dying in the hands of a brain surgeon attempting to locate the source of some imagined internal bleeding. Leaving him completely and utterly unexcused for the selfish, and frankly juvenile behavior. Sure, I get the loss was hanging heavy and a night alone in his own bed was therapeutic to nurse his defeat, and freshly wounded body back to health. I couldn’t be mad at him for seeking out a little isolation, I guess. That was one of the personality flaws of Colton, it seemed. Something doesn’t play out in your favor? Run. Someone questions your judgement? Shout, then run. The fact that zero communication had been made with me, the innocent spectator, was the true “no-no” in my book. Especially after the hypocrite scolded me one afternoon for leaving my phone at home on the coffee table one day on my brisk exit to work. He had driven down to the Pilot office, had the secretary summon me to the front entrance so he could reprimand me in the corner about he had worried all morning when he didn’t hear from me, and wasn’t sure if I was alive or dead. Yet, here we were. Tables indeed turned, and not even so much as a single text message just assuring me he was home safe, sound, and not experiencing signs of a brutal concussion or what not. I made up my stubborn mind that when, or if for that matter, that he wanted to talk he could find me. I wasn’t about to drag myself any further into oncoming traffic for a man who pulled stunts like this one. Not without an apology at least.

 Tuesday morning. Two days since the fight. Two FULL days. Crickets. 48 hours. For all I knew, Colton Ritter had hopped a plane to Mexico and was sunning on the beach with a beautiful, topless native as we speak. Keeping the promise to myself, and my self-respect, I held my ground & hadn’t reached out to him since leaving a voicemail late after the fight. The plus side? I had an over abundance of time to finalize my article for Ryan, who had texted me with instruction to head straight for his office as soon as I made it to work. It was edited, proofread, and emailed to him by midmorning on Monday, so I was sure he’d had his chance to look over my work. I mindfully sported my best suit on this particular day, leaning if he thought the article was shit and I was in for a lecture, at least I’d look fabulous while taking my reprimanding.

I marched directly to my boss’ office at 8:00 a.m. sharp, shoulders held high ready to take whatever bad, or good that was coming my way. Two knuckle knocks to his wooden, “editor-in-chief” plated door before he granted my entrance.

“Liv, hey! Goodmorning. Come in, have a seat, have a seat.”

I flashed a reserved smile, lowering to be seated directly across the L-shaped desk from him. “You wanted to see me?”

Thankfully, he grinned brightly, “I did, yeah. Feeling a bit of relief with this one off your shoulders?”

“Actually, I enjoyed it a lot. I mean, aside from Mendez being quite the… snide character, it was honestly kind of fun for me. MMA isn’t really a sport I’ve had much exposure to, but I’ve grown pretty fond of it now.” I figured that response was better than saying “I fell in love with Colton Ritter during this process and we’ve been dating under the table for the last several months.”

Ryan leaned forward on his desk, intertwining his hands together outstretched. “That’s actually one of the things I wanted to discuss with you. This piece was by far the best work I’ve seen from you. Not to discredit any of your past articles, of course! But, it was clearly displayed that you were genuinely enjoying yourself with this topic,” he explained. “Which is why I’ve decided to move forward with publishing you front page.”

A toothy smile immediately turned my lips upward, sweating palms replaced with a leaping heart.

“I know we spoke about only going that route if Ritter took the win since the piece was centered around him. But, your writing was too unbelievably excellent to not reward the dutiful job you did.”

I tried to save face, remain composed but I cupped my hands over my cheery face and released a tiny squeal, however not forgetting to thank my boss for the career altering opportunity.

“Thank you so, so SO much, boss. Truly, I’m so grateful!”

“You earned it, Liv. But don’t thank me just yet. There’s something else I’d like to suggest.” Was he pulling the “good news first to stifle to bad news” bit with me?

“I’ve discussed it with a few of the higher ups, and I’d like to designate you as our resident journalist for all things in the world of fighting. I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I think you may have found your niche with this one. Of course, there’d be a slight increase in pay with the position.”

The heaviness of the weekends dramatic unfolding’s took a momentary backseat to the unexpected pleasantries of this spring-esque Tuesday morning. Still, this very second, the only thing I wanted to do was run to Colt with the good news…

“If you think that’s where I belong, then I’d love to give it a shot. It’s definitely a sport I’d like to continue getting familiar with.”

He nodded with a single clap of his hands, “That’s what I like to hear! We’re lucky to have you here, Elliott. I think this a good move. So, we’ll talk later on in the week to settle everything 100%. And I’ll see you on the front-page Thursday morning, my friend.”

We shook hands, and I nearly skipped the distance spanning from his office to my quaint cubicle. I wondered if the birds I heard singing a song of rejoice around my head were visible to the rest of the office. I lifted the screen of my silver laptop, primed and ready to dive into the world of my latest endeavors. I searched the internet scanning for upcoming matches in the city, some of Pittsburgh’s own who competed in the arena of cage fighting, then I heard a ding signaling a message on my unsilenced phone.

C: Meet at Mac’s soon?

The utter nerve of this guy. Sure, I haven’t heard as much as a ‘hey’ from you in two days, but I’ll be sure to leave an hour into a work day per your request. God help the male population if they’re all this clueless.

L: He speaks.

He knew me well enough to know I’d throw a tad bit of shade at him.

C: Meet me, please?

L: Its not even 10 a.m., Colton. I’m working.

C: After? We need to talk.

Oh, ya’ don’t say, genius. I’d say we were about two days overdue for a talk, sweet, silly boy.

L: 4:30. I have some news of my own too!

C: Great.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

[bloodfromthethorn]

Screaming

Callahan has a grudge to settle, but Mac's refusing to play ball.

Part seven of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge, and a continuation of yesterday’s entry.

Also on AO3. 

..

Mac didn’t know, precisely, where he was or how long he’d been there. What he did know was that he’d very much like to go home if that was quite alright with everyone. He was exhausted and aching and he was pretty sure one of the guys who’d bundled him into the boot of the car had broken his wrist wrenching it behind his back. All in all, his day wasn’t going well, and he was more than ready for it to be over.

Callahan had done as he’d promised and spent a good few hours knocking Mac around like that was his job or something, but Mac’s insistence on not making a sound had rapidly stolen any pleasure he might have found. It wasn’t exactly a victory when it left Mac sporting a bloodied lip and bruises on top of bruises, but it won him just the slightest sliver of power back. He wasn’t about to let that go.

Robbed of the power trip he’d evidently been seeking, Callahan had spat some general abuse at him and stalked off, promising worse things to come. Mac didn’t doubt him. He also didn’t have much hope of escaping given the aforementioned broken wrist, and the guard Callahan was apparently smart enough to leave just inside the door staring at him intently. Even if Mac could get out of his cuffs, which let’s be honest would hardly even rank as a challenge, he didn’t fancy his chances in a fistfight right then.

With that plan out the window, Mac’s options were wait around for an opening he could exploit, or wait around in the hopes that Jack turned up with his rescue. Either way, his immediate choice was the same.

The problem was that left him free to fret over Bozer – he’d still been breathing when Mac had been unceremoniously dragged from the house but Mac had no idea what had been in that syringe and Boze had hit the deck hard. Jack and Riley had been planning to come over for dinner so one of them must have stumbled across the scene by now, but that was no guarantee of anything at all. For all Mac knew, Boze could have been dead and gone long before any of them had the chance to get anywhere close.

The thought was crushing, unbearable, but Mac just couldn’t get it out of his head. Even as he knew Jack would be scolding him for not worrying about his own safety when it was in such immediate danger, all he could think about was the surprise on Boze’s face when the needle had slid into his arm. Had it been too late then? Had the die already been cast?

Mac was built to fix things, but there would be no repairing that loss.

Tangled up in his thoughts, it was almost a relief when Callahan reappeared – almost. He was tailed by a much smaller man holding a doctor’s satchel who looked like he had about as much desire as Mac to be there. When his eyes landed on the prisoner though, something bright came alive behind his oval glasses and Mac felt his heart sink; whoever this man was, he might have distaste for the run-down farmhouse he’d been brought to but that evidently didn’t extend to the work he was meant to do. Mac had seen that look on the faces of others before, and every single time in the past it had promised pain.

“I hope you have been comfortable in my absence,” Callahan said insincerely, his natural accent barely noticeable under the faux American affectations. “I would hate to think of my guests as unhappy.”

True to his earlier resolution, Mac bit his tongue and kept silent.

Callahan’s mocking grin curled into a snarl. “Ah, of course, yes, you refuse to speak with me. The people of your country are so terribly rude, did you know? That’s why I’ve brought my friend here.” He gestured broadly to the man beside him, who was still staring at Mac like he was a piece of meat to be savoured. The sensation was deeply unpleasant. “Doctor, please, your work awaits you.”

That was the only prompting the man needed, apparently, because he strode purposefully towards the table off to Mac’s left and started rummaging through his bag. When his hands reappeared with a packaged syringe and an unlabelled vial, something cold went down Mac’s spine.

Callahan had taken issue with Mac’s refusal to cry out in pain, but he hadn’t been demanding information from him so the chances of it being something to induce suggestibility wasn’t all that high. That left- well. A whole bunch of awful shit Mac one hundred percent did not want having free reign in his bloodstream.

The doctor tore open the syringe pack with his teeth and deftly inserted it into the vial, his eyes still on Mac. “Hmm,” he was muttering to himself, “About six foot, muscles – maybe 190 pounds? Young, strong heart…”

He was judging the dose, Mac realised suddenly. Not only was he about to be injected with some unknown substance, he was apparently going to be getting a dose eyeballed by a man who looked like he’d enjoy watching Mac die just for the academic interest it would provide. This day just got better and better.

Callahan was watching with a smug, self-satisfied smile on his face. Even if every alarm bell wasn’t already going off in Mac’s head, that would be warning enough that things were about to get really, really bad. Now would be an absolutely fantastic time for Jack to show up.

Only, this apparently wasn’t that kind of story because Mac was forced to watch helplessly as the doctor cross to his side, rolled up his sleeve, and plunged the needle into his arm without the slightest hesitation. There was a tiny prick of pain as the needle went in, then the tell-tale flash of ice as the cool liquid hit his system, spreading up from his elbow to engulf his upper arm. The rest of him broke out in a cold sweat as his cortisol levels hit the roof and kept rising.

“Well now,” Callahan said cheerfully, “That should help, don’t you think? I don’t imagine we’ll get much coherent out of you, but I don’t suppose that matters. I’ll just be pleased to hear you sing.”

It took every ounce of Mac’s self-control to keep himself still and quiet. The instant he was out of these cuffs, he fully intended to introduce his fist to Callahan’s face as fast as humanly possible.

“Tell me, have you heard of yohimbine?” The man asked pleasantly.

It was obvious from his tone that he expected the answer to be no, but then, he didn’t know Mac. He raced through his knowledge of the most recent scientific studies he could remember, producing a quick mental checklist of side effects and risks. There wasn’t a lot he could do about any of them right now, of course, but if that rescue did show up, it would be good to have as much information as possible. Still, as it was… this was not good news.

“It’s a strange little chemical,” Callahan continued, unphased by Mac’s sudden revelation. “People used to think that it could be used to help men succeed in… certain intimate activities.” He raised a lascivious eyebrow. “They were wrong, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear, but their greatest failing was not realising the true potential of what they had. Now, it’s not perfect on its own. A few doses of yohimbine can cause anxiety and stress, but that’s hardly too impressive. After all, why would I need a chemical to do in days what I can do in minutes when given the right equipment?”

He started circling the room slowly, as if delivering a lecture to an interested class. More uncomfortably, the doctor settled himself down on the floor right in front of Mac with a notebook perched in his lap, ready to record his reaction. Mac’d been in plenty of distressing situations before, but none of them had made him feel like a lab rat quite as much as this.

“But then I met my friend here,” he said with another gesture towards the doctor, “And together we realised that it can do so much more with a little help. It turns out that if you combine yohimbine with thiopental sodium and palmitate you can drastically increase its potency. Mix them all together in just the right quantities and the results are… sublime.”

Mac did a quick mental search: pentothal to induce suggestibility or hypnosis and palmitate to increase cellular uptake, at the risk of lowering the toxicity barrier. In theory, both could work together to make the yohimbine faster acting and much stronger, turning ‘mild anxiety’ into something a lot more threatening. Assuming there weren’t any adverse interactions he couldn’t foresee and the doctor had judged the dosage correctly, Callahan was right: Mac’s day was about to get so much worse.

And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

..

The discomfort crept in slowly at first, so much so it was hard to disconnect it from the general sense of worry and stress he’d been warding off ever since he was abducted. After all, this was hardly a situation in which anxiety was an unreasonable response.

Unfortunately, that didn’t last all that long. He could feel his heart rate steadily climbing as panic built up in his gut, followed by the nausea that swept in to keep it company. His breath quickened to match his racing heart; soon enough he was having to actively concentrate on stopping himself from hyperventilating as he grew more and more lightheaded and his vision turned foggy and grey. Next came the hallucinations – whether a product of the drug itself or merely an unintended side effect brought about by a lack of oxygen in his brain, he had no idea – which began with sudden flashes of movement in the corner of his vision before evolving into more substantial threats as his mind sunk deeper into the hold of the drug.

From what little he could still see, the doctor was busy scribbling notes on his observations while Callahan leaned casually against the wall, staring at him like anyone else might behold a museum exhibit. Neither of them seemed at all concerned with the shadows creeping around the edge of the room, moving ever closer to where he was bound.

One came within arm’s reach in a rapid darting motion before falling back to join its fellows and before he knew what he was doing, Mac had half thrown himself in the opposite direction with a strangled whimper. The noise seemed to scare the shadows back for a time, and Mac was able to haul in a few unhindered breaths, but they came crawling back in all the same.

He had no idea what they were or where he was, all he knew was that he wanted out. He needed to get out of there, away from the shadows, and he needed help to do it. Where was Jack? Jack would never leave him there when he was so afraid, Mac was sure of it. He’d never once hesitated to put himself between Mac and a threat, even when that threat was something he himself was afraid of – that was just the sort of person Jack was. So even if he was as terrified as Mac felt in that moment, he should be there.

Something brushed against the back of his knee and he kicked out wildly with a yell, nearly toppling his chair with the force of his thrashing. He squeezed his eyes shut in the hope it would somehow help, but he immediately realised that not being able to see the creatures sneaking up on him was incalculably worse. He wrenched them back open with a sob of fear, eyes rolling about wildly as he tried to identify anything he’d missed.

Distantly he could feel his heart about to beat of his ribs, the pulse so rapid that his whole chest was throbbing with the strain of it. Each breath had to be pulled in through a clenched tight, aching throat. Any concept of where he was and what he was going there was long gone, replaced by simple fears and base terror. His body was trembling like a leaf.

A weight landed on his shoulder, and his head snapped around to look at the clawed, deadened hand grasping at him, tightening in his shirt to drag him down, back into the depths of the hell it must have crawled out of and Mac could feel it now, the coldness sinking into his skin with a wild thrill of unnatural and no matter what he did, he’d never be able to wash that away and-

-he screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

..

Jack knew it had been naïve to assume arriving at his partner’s house to find Bozer unconscious, no Mac, and the obvious signs of a struggle would be the worst moment of his day, but he’d still sort of hoped, y’know? The chances of finding Mac completely unhurt might have been low, but even with that in mind, he’d still been utterly blindsided by the scene they’d eventually uncovered: Callahan, a guard, and a seriously creepy dude with a notebook all standing around watching a bound Mac as he screamed and convulsed.

Mac’s face was a mess of bruises and blood from a split lip and what might have been a broken nose, but the superficial damage utterly paled in comparison to his overall state. The blonde’s eyes were rolling in his skull, froth bubbling at the corner of his gaping mouth as he thrashed against the ropes holding him down. Even with his breath shuddering and rasping, he was still somehow finding enough air to unleash a barrage of screaming and sobbing, studded by the occasional string of garbled words that sounded vaguely like pleading. He didn’t look like he was aware of what was going on around him – didn’t look like he knew what planet he was on – but whatever he was seeing, it clearly wasn’t good.

It took all of one second of Jack seeing his partner like that for something red to descend over him and by the time he next took stock of himself, the guard was unconscious and Callahan was shrieking something about the gunshot that had just shattered his knee. Jack answered him with another bullet, and the man fell silent. The weird guy with the book was cowering in the far corner, staring at Jack like he was the twisted one in this scenario, but he was unarmed and Jack dismissed him as no real threat. He could leave the tac team right behind him to worry about that one.

No, his focus needed to be on Mac. It took a surprisingly long amount of time to cut him free of the ropes what with the way he was thrashing, completely insensate and oblivious to Jack’s presence. All the same, Jack kept up a steady stream of soothing words as he worked, hoping that somewhere in there, his partner could hear him and know that help had finally, finally arrived. If Mac did hear him, he certainly didn’t show it.

When the ropes came free, the most Jack could do for him was get him on the ground, his head pillowed in Jack’s lap, and keep track of his racing pulse while the medical team streamed into the room. Jack had never been happier about Matty’s preparedness, but so much of his being was focused on Mac in that moment he couldn’t spare the attention needed to voice it. Instead, all he was left to do was sit there and watch as his partner fell to pieces.

..

When Mac woke, it was with a familiar sense of knowing that he’d been asleep for a long time. His limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, and his head was stuffed with cotton wool in a way it only really was when he was coming out of anaesthetic. It wasn’t a nice sensation, but he’d grown used to it years ago and these days it was largely associated with the relative safety of hospitals. Being in them might not be good, but it was usually better than whatever had landed him there in the first place.

A quick mental assessment identified a few points of pain – his face felt swollen and his throat was burning faintly – but for the most part he seemed remarkably intact. That was… well, not exactly a first, but certainly not the norm. The curiosity of it more than any real desire to wake up was what made him open his eyes, automatically searching for the figure he knew would be at his side.

Jack blinked lazily back at him. He had one elbow propped up on the arm of his chair, supporting his chin. The other arm was draped idly beside Mac’s hip on the bed, his hand resting over his partner’s. When Mac just stared at him, Jack’s eyes narrowed in consideration. “You look like you’re actually awake this time.”

Mac wanted to ask what he meant by this time, but when he opened his mouth, all his throat gave him was a sad little hiss of air.

“Ay, don’t try to talk,” Jack scolded instantly, half rising out of his chair as though he could do anything to help. “Your throat’s all torn up, you’ve gotta rest it. No talking,” he said again, sternly, with a pointed finger as he settled back in his chair. “You’re actually awake then? For real this time?”

Lesson learned, Mac offered him a very careful nod.

His partner’s face did something complicated, flickering through any number of emotions too rapidly to track before finally settling on what Mac would probably have dubbed ‘exhausted relief’. They both politely pretended Jack’s eyes weren’t red. “Well. Thank fuck. You’ve gotta stop doing this to me Mac, my heart can’t take it. You had Bozer and Riley all worried too – I’ve only just managed to convince them to get some rest.”

Mac was momentarily bowled over by sudden, sheer relief – Bozer was alright. Jack wouldn’t be talking about him like that if he wasn’t, which meant that all of Mac’s fears about whatever drug had been in his system were all for nothing. No matter what else had happened, that was all that really mattered. The scariest part about waking up in any hospital was not knowing what had happened to the rest of his family and that went double when one of the last things you could remember was one of them in trouble.

Fortunately, Jack knew him well enough to fill him in on the details unprompted. “Yeah, Bozer’s fine, don’t worry. Whatever they hit him with knocked him out for a few hours, but it’s all out his system now and he’s doing great. He’s been much more worried about you, to be honest. We all were.”

From the little bits and pieces Mac could remember of his time with Callahan, he thought he could probably understand that. Whatever scene Jack had arrived to find, it couldn’t have been pretty. He wanted to apologise for that, and to thank him for what had no doubt been a spectacular rescue, but his throat wasn’t about to cooperate. Given the abuse he vaguely remembered giving it, he wasn’t entirely surprised. All he could really do was twitch his fingers against Jack’s arm and offer him the shadow of a smile.

As he always did, Jack understood.

“Yeah man,” he said, choked up and pretending not to be, “I’m glad you’re back too.”

..

AN: So I basically invented Scarecrow's fear toxin and backed it up with fake science? For clarity, thiopental sodium can induce suggestibility, palmitate does lower cellular toxicity thresholds (and is really, really bad in oh so many ways), and yohimbine was originally used as an erectile dysfunction medication but has subsequently been found to be ineffective. There is some evidence that it can cause increased anxiety, but it 100% does not work like I pretended it does.

[rantsaboutponies]

Season 7 Retrospective

Well, we’re between highly anticipated movie releases this weekend (for me, anyway), so it’s time for our annual look back over the season!

Good lord, the beginning of Season 7 seemed like so long ago. I could have sworn the Flurry Heart episode was last season. Maybe this has just been a really long year. Well...okay, yeah, I can certainly see why it would feel that way, given the year this has been.

With a rating of 4-9-13 (W-L-T), this season must have been better than the last one, even if it didn’t feel like it. Season 8 is forthcoming, so how long before Hasbro gives up and reboots the series again? Only time will tell.

So, here we are. From best to worst:

#1. “Secrets and Pies”: This episode was...good? Like, really, really good? Why? I don’t get it! I wouldn't be so confused if you guys did this more often! I swear, the next time this happens, I'm going to get whiplash!

#2. “Rock Solid Friendship”: To complement the really good Pinkie Pie episode, here’s an episode that was really good in every way except Pinkie Pie! They’re at exact opposite ends of the season, too. Maybe it’s an equivalent exchange thing.

#3. “Triple Threat”: I thought this episode did a pretty good job of avoiding the “why don’t you just tell them?” problem that virtually every episode of every sitcom runs into. We’ve already established that Thorax is a whiny little milquetoast weenie and that Ember is a heinous prick who doesn’t listen to anybody but herself. Hell, that was the entire reason for the conflict in the first place! Honestly, why would Spike try to reason with either of them?

#4. “To Change a Changeling”: If the monster hadn’t turned out to be a giant mole, the ending battle might have seemed a little more life-threatening. That, Starlight’s very, very stupid plan, and Pharynx’s abusive ass made this episode a little worse than it should have been. Apart from that, though, I liked it!

And now here’s the hardest part of the list: trying to figure out which “tie” episodes were slightly better or worse than all the others.

#5. “Once Upon a Zeppelin”: Yeah, Twilight’s parents were annoying (and idiots), but not to the point that I’m going to dread them ever showing up in any future episodes (unlikely as that is at this point). Plus, bringing back Iron Will actually seemed to have a point, and it helped that he didn’t have to “unlearn” his lesson from his first appearance just to make the current episode make sense.

#6. “Uncommon Bond”: This episode went out of its way to prove that yes, Starlight and Sunburst really do have only one thing in common. I would have expected the resolution to be the realization that the two of them liked more things than just that board game, but nope! Giant version! That’s it!

#7. “Daring Done?”: I was so distracted this episode that I forgot to mention that Pinkie Pie was actually acting like Pinkie Pie and not an annoying little shitbag! It was refreshing! But anyway, you’d think Daring-Do would have written enough books by this point to realize the obvious tropes this episode followed. The real challenge for her is going to be stretching this adventure out to novel-length.

#8. “Discordant Harmony”: I’m still not sure what made Discord think he needed to change a bunch of shit about his house to make Fluttershy happy. It looked the same way he made her house look every time he visited her. What did he think she was expecting?

#9. “A Health of Information”: This is the second episode in a row on this list where Fluttershy acted kind of like a doofus throughout the episode for no discernible reason. It also proved that unicorns are the solution to everything. Need to grab some moss from a swamp without falling in? Unicorn! Need to collect honey from the flash bees without going anywhere near them? Unicorn! Need to destroy an entire planet without breaking a sweat? Unicron!

#10 & #11. “Shadow Play (Parts 1 and 2)”: The first half fools you into thinking this isn’t just going to be a run-of-the-mill finale episode by promising you a halfway interesting quest before immediately giving you all the artifacts within a few minutes. Ha! Gotcha!

#12. “Hard to Say Anything”: I’d kind of hoped we were past the whole “two men competing for the trophy that is the personality-deprived female character” cliché, especially in a show designed for children, but I guess not. I mean, at least Big Mac and Feather do realize that’s what they’re doing by the end, but that doesn’t fix Sugar Belle’s “sexy lamp” issue.

#13. “A Royal Problem”: Has Twilight been of help to any friendship-related issues since she stopped being the main character? I think these episodes must be based on Twilight's memoirs, i.e. this isn't how things actually happened; this is how she remembers them happening. Here's what really happened during "Magical Mystery Cure":

Twilight Sparkle: So...I accidentally totally and completely fucked up my friends’ lives, but then I fixed it! That means I'm good at having friends, right?

Princess Celestia (sarcastically): Oh, yeah, you're a regular princess of friendship.

Twilight Sparkle: *gasp* Really?!

Princess Celestia: Oh, no, I didn't mean– Ah, crap, the music's already started. ♫ You've come such a long, long way... ♫

Princess Celestia (mentally): I've really got to stop using the word “princess” as an insult. This is the third one this week. I'm running out of castles! She'll just have to stay in the library until I can find another one.

#14. “All Bottled Up”: This episode is a perfect example of why the writers typically just don’t include characters in an episode if they have nothing to do in said episode. That escape room nonsense was just stupid. The six of you might be best friends, but you have never gotten along that well!

#15. “Celestial Advice”: Ugh, this one. “As a teacher, I have to send my student away. I don’t know exactly why I have to do that, but I’m sure I’ll figure the reason out later. Oh, wait, you don’t want to leave? Well, that changes everything! You can stay!” I think they were making this one up as they went along.

#16. “The Perfect Pear”: One of the emptiest “love” stories I’ve ever seen. This was an “attraction story”, if you can even call it that. This is another case where I’m positive that at least a hundred better fanfics had been written about this exact story before the episode was released. I get why people have headcanons about things now. Why wouldn’t you have a fanon when the canon is so...weak?

#17. “Honest Apple”: Once again, we have a brand-new writer for this episode. Kevin Lappin was very likely just given a slip of paper with “APPLEJACK = HONEST” written on it, which constituted the entire material he had to work with. That might explain why Applejack was such an unlikable prick for the entire episode.

Whoo... All right. Here we go.

#18. “A Flurry of Emotions”: If you don’t want to watch your kid (because, seriously, you’ve got better things to do), just show up at one of your relatives’ houses one day and dump it on them. They’ll have such a guilt trip that they’ll be glad to accept! But make sure it’s someone who’s completely unqualified for the job and has a mountain of other responsibilities first. That’s the best way!

#19. “Campfire Tales”: The fact that this episode was actually just a clunky setup for the finale might explain why all three stories sucked so hard. It’s this season’s The Mummy!

#20. “Not Asking for Trouble”: Now we’re going to get into the part of the list where I have to figure out which episodes are worse by balancing how much the episode irritated me in general with how toxic the moral is. Trust me, if your children’s show has a moral of “Do what you want to do for other people, regardless of what those people have explicitly told you not to do, because you’ll end up being right in the end. After all, people don’t know what they want!”, you’ve fucked up something awful.

#21. “Fluttershy Leans In”: I said in this review that this felt like the MLP version of The Fountainhead, but I only just recently realized that I also said the same thing about Season 5's "Canterlot Boutique". Given that the episodes were written by different people, this must be a storyline that creative types really like (even if it’s nothing more than a power fantasy).

#22. “It Isn’t the Mane Thing About You”: All right, you actually had a good idea with this one. Despite being the Element of Generosity, one of Rarity's main problems has always been her vanity. That means you pulled off the rare feat of making the moral both 1. something the character hasn't already learned in a previous episode and 2. something that a normal functioning member of society might not automatically possess. (There has been a distressing number of lessons in the past five seasons or so that don't fit one or both of these qualifications.) It's just a shame you crashed and burned so spectacularly by 1. turning the moral from “don't be vain” to “have confidence” (something Rarity has never struggled with AND which you have already had as the moral in MULTIPLE previous episodes) and 2. went about it in the most nonsensical way possible!

#23. “Parental Glideance”: This one was a little sickening. The “my parents are so embarrassing!” trope is bad enough, but you’re an adult, Rainbow Dash! Grow up! If the things your parents are doing embarrass you (or if they’re legitimately dangerous, like SHOOTING FIREWORKS OFF AT AN AIRSHOW), talk to them! You can do that without snapping and acting like a dick!

#24. “Forever Filly”: Holy crap, I have never wanted to punch a fictional cartoon character in the face as badly as I did in this episode. I don’t know what made Sweetie Belle act like such a little shit or why Rarity is so out of touch with her (seeing as Sweetie Belle would have had to have been about four to be into the stuff she was trying to do), but I hated this. Shove your black box experimental theater up your ass.

#25. “Marks and Recreation”: I got the sense from the beginning of the series that cutie marks were originally supposed to be something really deep and meaningful. I mean, they’re your passion. They represent that thing that you love so much and are so good at that you can spend the rest of your life doing it and wearing a permanent symbol of it on your body. Well, not anymore! Now it’s just some obligatory shit that you get because you have to and that doesn’t have any real meaning at all! Fuck you! Just...fuck you!

#26. “Fame and Misfortune”: Yeah, no surprise there. Holy shit, this was a painful experience. Like “Stranger Than Fan Fiction”, this was just embarrassing to watch. To quote somebody else, “...you don't get back at critics by attacking them, you do it by ignoring them and continuing to be awesome.” Hell, this episode's moral is contradicted by its own existence. “You shouldn't be affected by criticism of your work. That’s why I wrote this episode where all my critics are painted as raving lunatics and I am totally the victim!” The fact that this is the SECOND such episode is just pathetic. This one actually manages to be worse, though, because, unlike the earlier episode when it was just Quibble Pants being a dick, this one paints the ENTIRE fandom as either complaining whiners who hate everything or creepy stalkers who follow everywhere you go. Nothing says “we want you to keep watching” like insulting the few fans you have left right to their face!

Remember, next week is the review of the remaining six Equestria Girls: Summertime Shorts. Be there!

[welcometophu]

Revelations 7

Twinned Book 1: Commit to the Kick

Revelations 7

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It seems like that one breakthrough should send them tumbling down a path to resolution, but it doesn’t. Over the next few days, Alaric meets with Pawel and Rory. He has a conference call with Rory’s Gram and Nana. He absolutely refuses to discuss anything with his father. Until he knows more about this new shape, he doesn’t want to try to explain to his father that he’s broken again.

Each new conversation breeds new questions. He smells exhaustion coming off of Mac as she explains her identity to Rory and Thorne, to Drea and Corbin. Rory claps a hand over Thorne’s mouth, forestalling any questions, but Alaric can’t be sure Thorne won’t try again later.

They all try to convince him to shift again into the dragon form, but Alaric can’t seem to call it forth. He wonders if it might be for emergencies only, and he doesn’t want to get into that level of emergency again.

By the time Friday evening rolls around, he’s frustrated enough that the walls at OPT feel like they’re closing in on him. He walks out without a word and walks around campus until he cools off. When he’s back in his room, he stares at the walls, tries to think of something to do while his friends are all at the campus movie.

He grabs his phone, texts, What about tonight?, then sets it down on the desk.

It buzzes. Where are you?

My room. I can be at your place in ten, Alaric texts back.

NO.

It pauses after that, and Alaric’s breath catches, his heart ratcheting faster until the phone buzzes again.

Stay put. I’m coming to you.

Alaric relaxes. He doesn’t know why the caps—why Thorne would yell like that—but he’s coming here. Alaric didn’t fuck everything up. He closes his eyes, breathes in slowly, breathes out. When the door creaks open, and Thorne is standing there in the doorway, hair disheveled, chest rising and falling as if he’s run the whole way, Alaric suddenly realizes where they actually are.

“Wait.” He jumps up, looks at Rory’s bed, then at Thorne. “Not here. Not in this room.”

Thorne pushes a hand through his hair, which does nothing to tame it. He gently closes the door behind him. “Sit down, Alaric. We’re not doing anything Rory wouldn’t approve of.” He pauses, makes a face. “Strike that. We’re not having sex in this room. We’re going to talk.”

They end up sitting on the floor, cross-legged and facing each other, knees almost touching. Thorne’s scent has a sour edge, sorrowed.

“I don’t get it,” Alaric says.

“I know.” Thorne pushes at his hair again, gives up and digs a band out of his pocket, wraps it around to pull the thick mess back into a rough ponytail. “And that’s why we’re going to talk. I don’t think we should keep having sex, Ric.”

“Why not?” Alaric still doesn’t get it. It’s been good. It’s really good to get off with someone else, and he trusts Thorne. He trusts him with all the little details that he’s afraid to tell anyone else about what he wants. What he needs sometimes. “Is this about the dragon?”

Thorne flips one hand palm up, cradles a tiny ball of flame. “I am not afraid of a fire-breathing dragon,” Thorne says with a small smile. “In fact, that makes me appreciate you even more as a friend. Seriously. Have you thought about whether you could carry someone on your back? If there’s ever actually a war, I could ride you into battle and we could rain flames down on all the evil.”

“You’ve really thought about this.” Alaric shakes his head, tries to clear the image away. “You do realize that if there’s a war, our families will be on different sides.”

“That depends on if we take sides and play along like traditional Clan and Mage.” Thorne waves his hand like he’s erasing the conversation. “We’re getting sidetracked, and I need you to understand this. It’s not about the dragon. It isn’t even about you, Ric. I like you. I’m really glad we became friends this year, and frankly, the sex is good,” Thorne admits.

“Then why?” Because Alaric still doesn’t understand. “We’re friends. The sex is good. What’s wrong with that?”

“Are you having sex with anyone else?” Thorne asks quietly.

Alaric’s brow furrows. “No. Why?”

Thorne’s breath huffs out. “Because the first thing you told me is that you didn’t want a relationship. And you and me?” Thorne points to the space between them. “You’re starting to treat this like a relationship. It’s like a crutch. You know you want sex, so you text me. We fuck, that’s it, we go on. But then it happens all over again, and in its own way, that’s a relationship, Ric.”

“We don’t date.”

Thorne laughs softly. “Relationships aren’t always about dating. There are so many kinds of relationships, Ric. And you keep glaring at me when I flirt with someone else.”

“Mac’s not interested in anyone.” That’s the last person Alaric can remember Thorne flirting with.

“I’m not going to sleep with Mac,” Thorne replies. “I know she’s not interested. On the other hand, if Nate’s interested? I’m willing to get in bed with him. The girl who was at my place on Sunday when you were coming back from the tournament in Boston? Pretty sure we’ll hook up again, and she said something about bringing a friend.”

Alaric growls softly. “So you’ll sleep with them, not me.”

“Would you be angry if you texted me and I was in bed with Nate?” Thorne asks

Alaric turns his head, clamps down until his jaw is tight as he stares at the floor. Because yes. Because he’s used to this, accustomed to the idea that Thorne’s there when he wants him. That they have this thing.

“You don’t love me,” Thorne says plainly, and it’s not a question.

Alaric shakes his head.

“But you want to keep me for yourself.”

Alaric licks his lips. “Sounds about right,” he admits.

“I’m not sure what we’re doing is healthy for you anymore,” Thorne says softly. “It helped in the beginning, but you’re hiding from things now.”

“What the fuck am I hiding from?” Alaric bursts out, because… what the fuck?

“That’s the point. You don’t know, because you’re hiding,” Thorne tells him. “I just think that maybe you need to give yourself a chance. Look at what you’re looking for, and figure it out. Think about it. Which might mean trying something with someone else, I don’t know. And you can always talk to me about anything. You want to figure out how to tell someone what you like? I can help with that. You want to rant about something? Fine. I’ll listen. Given what we’ve already done, I’m pretty sure there’s not much left to be embarrassed about.”

There’s heat in Alaric’s cheeks. He’s flushed red. It’s different than when the dragon slips under his skin. He can smell his own embarrassment, his own frustration. “I don’t know what I want. This was—it was….”

“Convenient?” Thorne says, and huffs a laugh when Alaric nods. “It was good, too. I don’t regret it, and I hope you don’t. I just think—I think you’re ready to take off the training wheels. Figure out where you want to go, and go there. Give yourself a chance.”

“But I don’t—” Alaric stops, frustrated by the lack of words to express what he’s trying to say.

“You don’t understand love?” Thorne says, and Alaric nods. “And you don’t fully understand the concept of romantic relationships?” And Alaric nods again.

Thorne leans forward, gets a hand at the nape of Alaric’s neck, holds him there while he kisses him gently. “Just remember that you can find someone who understands you. Who won’t push for more than you can give, but who can give you what you do want. Like regular sex, just with you. And being there as your friend. I’m sure he’s out there.”

Alaric nods again. He’s out of words, out of any way to make sense of this. He feels like he’s losing something, but when he reaches inside his mind to touch the concept, he’s not upset. He’s certainly not heartbroken. As Thorne pushes to his feet, Alaric watches him get further away.

“Thanks,” Alaric mutters.

Thorne grins. “The pleasure was all mine. You okay?”

“Yeah.” He feels like he shouldn’t be, but he really is fine.

Thorne leaves, and Alaric just sits there, cross-legged on the floor, still trying to process.

Something where he’s with someone. One person. Just them. Friends. Sex. It’s what he wanted with Corbin. It’s what he had, in a way, with Thorne. And when he thinks about it, it’s as close as he can get to explaining that he does want something, but he doesn’t want traditional hearts and romance.

He’s still sitting when Rory pushes through the door, drops his bag on the floor and throws his notebook up on the bed, then stops dead. “What are you doing here?”

Alaric blinks up at him. “Thinking.”

Rory folds abruptly, kneeling in front of Alaric. “What did he do? Because Thorne ran out on a session after getting a text, and he only does that when it’s you. But you’re here, and you look a little like you’ve been run over by a bus.”

“We didn’t have sex in the room,” Alaric assures him. “He just broke up with me.”

“Shit.” Rory sits back on his heels, mouth twisted into a frown. “I’m going to kill him for hurting you.”

“Don’t, it’s okay.” Alaric pushes to his feet, unfolding himself slowly. He rubs the back of his neck, seeks words that aren’t anywhere to be found. “I mean it, it’s really okay. I wasn’t in love with him. He didn’t hurt me. He just… he gave me something to think about.”

“Something to think about.” Rory’s expression is dubious as he comes to his feet. He holds his arms out to the side, and Alaric slides closer without thinking, accepts the hug that’s offered. They stand there, with Rory rubbing Alaric’s back in small circles, and Alaric can’t stop thinking.

“I don’t know what I want,” Alaric admits. “I know what I don’t want, but it’s harder to figure out what I do want.”

“Do you want a sounding board to figure it out?” Rory offers.

“No.” Alaric steps back, looks at the bed. “Not yet. I think I just want to sleep. And maybe—” Yeah, no, he’s not going to say that part out loud. He doesn’t want to get into this conversation with Rory.

“You know what? I came up with a potential start to that piece for TJ.” Rory reaches for his notebook. “Thorne had this idea about opening with a piano—like an old-fashioned music box—then twisting the sound into something more modern. So I’m going to go see if TJ’s around to talk to him about it. I’ll be gone a while.”

Alaric relaxes, smiles slightly. “I’ll probably be asleep before you get back.”

“Better that than traumatizing either of us,” Rory quips. “Yell if you need anything. I’ll be right down the hall.”

The only thing Alaric needs is answers, and he’s not ready for help with that yet. He waits until Rory’s gone before he climbs into his loft and closes his eyes, and tries to find a way to finally relax.

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