#IT MUST BE UNDERSTOOD THAT THIS WAS THE FIRST GAME I OPTIMIZED. NOT GOT TO KNOW TO AN UNNATURAL POINT(I COULD PROBABLY GLITCHLESS SPEEDRUN

[cantdanceflynn]

^ REMEMBERED MYSIMS DS EXISTED

[omgcpausandstuff]

I posted 170 times in 2022

43 posts created (25%)

127 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@parvuls

@zimms

@omgcpausandstuff

@weneedtotalkaboutfic

@appalamutte

I tagged 144 of my posts in 2022

Only 15% of my posts had no tags

#omgcp - 64 posts

#alternate universe - 23 posts

#zimbits - 23 posts

#check please - 22 posts

#fic rec - 22 posts

#jack zimmermann - 6 posts

#omgcp meta - 5 posts

#omgcp headcanon - 4 posts

#holster - 4 posts

#eric bittle - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#part of the appeal to these kinds of stories for me that are caused by a wish (unintentional or otherwise) is that the character themselves

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

For optimal well-being, both bros must remain in the same enclosure.

111 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

#4

Shout out to Ransom's white baseball cap. There are several iconic pieces of clothing associated with different characters (Jack's shoes, Bitty's shorts, etc), but Ransom's hat is easily the one that shows up the most by a huge margin. He's wearing it in his first appearance and his last appearance. Other characters wear it sometimes! He wears it to his consulting job!

This man put that hat on one day and decided, "This slaps, lets wear it as much as possible." And he was right!

131 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

#3

Something I've never quite understood about Samwell vs Yale and "Lucky Shot" is that Jack isn't just upset about his father's comments on his play. Jack seems dismayed in his reaction shot as soon as Bitty scores -

Your team is probably going to win! You should be happy, right? Well, not if you care more about how you performed than how the team did. The game was tied 0 - 0 with 4 minutes left when Bitty scored - Jack hasn't scored and they're getting clobbered in the shots on goal, so its only thanks to Johnson that they're not getting steamrolled.

Theres no way that Jack doesn't see these facts as a personal failure. He's not scoring, and he's probably not producing as many chances to score as he usually does. He's supposed to be better than these college players, isn't he? To top things off, his dad is watching.

Clinching things personally in the third period or winning in overtime isn't ideal, but I think for Jack, not scoring in this game might as well have been a loss. When Bitty scores, he feels the chance for him to "redeem" himself slipping away, and in the end he didn't score at all.

And the thing is - Bitty scoring did involve luck; he took the shot with his eyes closed, and admitted that in front of Jack. Jack has dedicated his life to hockey, is deeply invested in the idea that being skilled at hockey is important, certainly the most important thing for winning at hockey - I wouldn't be surprised if him taunting Bitty wasn't just an attempt to hurt him (which it was) but he was genuinely rankled that the game was decided the way it was. It doesn't feel out of character for Y1 Jack to be upset if he was the one who got a lucky goal - he wants the effort he's put into being skilled to matter; to have been worth it.

Bob being present is obviously a huge amplifier for Jack's anxiety over his performance. Would he have been happy to get a win, even if he didn't show up on the scoreboard, if Bob wasn't there? I can see it going both ways, but I think that to some degree he would still be upset - at least with himself. At the awards banquet he talks about how he wants to play for the team in his final year, and I think this game being evidence of him still caring too much about his personal performance ties in neatly to that.

So its not so much that he's jealous that Bitty scored, or just because his father complimented Bitty and not him - he feels he failed, and he wants to take it out on someone.

171 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#2

Despite the coaches pointing it out in the previous panel, I've never put much thought into the fact that Jack is surprised by the coaches saying this, and how weird that is.

There's something more going on here other than Bitty and Jack just complementing each other and playing well together, because Jack should recognize that. He's been on lines with powerful chemistry before, so he knows what that's like and Jack is absolutely focused on his hockey and his performance, so it's not like he's just not paying attention in practices with Bitty. So, what gives? Why is this a surprise?

One possibility is that there is some level of self deception going on here. Perhaps his preconceived notions about Bitty's value to the team mean that Jack is discounting the obvious evidence. Even if he's accepted that Bitty can contribute to the team, maybe the way they work together on the ice is so different from what he had with Parse that he can't recognize that it's exceptional in its own way. Jacks glare at Bitty in the panel after this could be because he resents the coaches putting him on equal footing with someone that he doesn't consider his equal.

But I keep coming back to how they phrase this; they could have said that Jack and Bitty work well together, or that Bitty complements Jack's play well, but they don't. Not to put too much weight on one line, but to me saying that Jack's a better player implies that Jack is doing something different when they play together.

What is it like to play with someone who has mental hangups like Bitty does? Someone you've invested time with to overcome them. How does that change how Jack approaches the game? At the beginning of the year, I'd say that Jack would treat him as a liability and do everything he could to avoid relying on him. We're clearly well past that - Bitty doesn't faint anymore, but I think Jack would still alter his play to be accommodating to him. Does Jack pay more attention to him? Worry about him? Make different choices to keep him from running up against his mental block?

Jack is likely the kind of skilled that can adapt his play to match the strengths and limitations of his linemates - but how much has he needed to do that at Samwell? From Jack's perspective, any extra effort to meet Bitty where he is could look like a handicap. Any deviation from playing exactly how he wants to, how it comes naturally to him at this point, is an unnecessary complication and a reason not to put them on a line together.

It would be a shock to have the coaches turn around and say that it's actually better that way; better than what you thought was your best. You've been measured on an axis that you didn't think was important, and before now you were found wanting. And, well, people don't enjoy having their conceptions of themselves challenged.

I don't think we have enough information to come to a definitive conclusion. What has Jack and Bitty's relationship been like since the game against Yale? The coaches say they play well together, but what exactly does that look like? We don't know, and likely never will. Thankfully, I enjoy recreational rampant speculation.

183 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I think if Jack and Bitty were ever put into a situation where they go head to head with other couples in some kind of competition, they would not be normal about it.

Like, they do something with the Falconers, and some people expect Jack's competitiveness to be lessened by Bitty's presence - he looks positively relaxed when they're together and Bitty is so friendly!

However, they are wrong because Jack and Bitty Are A Team, and they Need To Win.

314 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[greymattermaelstrom]

What she said

This has been a difficult post to prepare. After much thought, I wish to share some very interesting information. Some know from my recent post, I went to Ozlander in Melbourne, Australia on March 14 & 15, 2020, and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Richard and Sophie. As a premium ticket holder, I enjoyed lunch with them on both days. They would individually spend 5 minutes or so at each table and rotate through the tables to meet the fans. At the event introduction on Day One, we were asked to respect Richard and Sophie by not asking questions of a personal nature, which naturally, everyone understood. Therefore, I wasn’t going to ask anything about Sam, Cait, or even Tony. So, I was more than surprised when Sophie briefly mentioned Cait’s wedding!

  Sophie visited our table and we talked about a number of things. It was Sophie’s first trip to Australia; Caitriona had been here and had told Sophie how nice it was. Someone asked Sophie, 'You went to Caitriona’s wedding, didn’t you?'

  'Yeah, Caitriona’s husband is a lovely guy.' (Did she just say that, I thought?)

  I asked Sophie, 'You and Sam were the only cast members that went?'

  And she replied, 'No, Tobias was there as well.' Interesting.

  Sophie then added she took the photo of Sam in the Dunhill suit (remarkable weekend).

  'The background had to be photoshopped as we couldn’t give away the location. It got onto social media and Caitriona wasn’t that pleased about it,' Sophie said a little ruefully. (Sam had posted the photo on IG. The right-side background looks very photoshopped.)

  During a photo session on Day Two, I asked Sophie, 'Did Caitriona marry Tony?' with the emphasis on the word Tony.

 'Yeah,' she said with a smile.

 'Really?' I asked.

 'Yes. Really,' Sophie said.

 Then I said, 'Well she doesn’t say his name and hasn’t released any photos so...'

 'I don’t know...,' Sophie said pleasantly enough. Wow!! Being so busy and so involved with OL for so long, I don’t think she fully appreciated how all the Tait secrecy is being perceived in the fandom.

Okay, a photo or some sort of evidence or it didn't happen. This info from Sophie was really unexpected. What sort of proof would be acceptable and not immediately suspected anyway? Nevertheless, I believe I have the evidence I need to satisfy myself. Someone else who was at the same Day One table, has confirmed to me in writing (I contacted her a week or so after the event) she heard Sophie say all this as well. I don’t think my acquaintance follows the ins and outs of the SC/Tait drama. I don’t think most of the people at Ozlander did from conversations I had and the general talk I heard. So, my witness doesn’t have a vested interest in The Narrative and, I believe, just gave a purely objective confirmation.

If I had heard Sophie say Cait married Sam, you would probably believe it, put this info in the receipt warehouse, and any evidence would be a bonus. I have been wanting truth no matter what it is. I’ll just deal with it. While it’s greatly disappointing, I do wish Cait and Sam happiness in life whomever they find it with.

I discovered OL 18 months ago and have only been active on Tumblr for 8 months. So, I am still a newb of sorts. Some might say a naïve babe in the woods with not much to lose. However, I’ve met some wonderful people on this side of the fence and I will probably lose friendships and reputation, be unfollowed and blocked, receive a lot of vitriol, be called a troll working for (fill in the blank), etc., due to this heresy. So, my info does come at a price for me. I understand I have not experienced years of surviving on this side of the fence, enduring the delusional tag and the attacks and insults from antis, NST, TPTB, Shamuso, and even some from Sam and Cait, and being thrown under the bus when convenient. I get, in principle, some shippers will close ranks and support any higher-profile shippers who don’t believe me. I anticipate this will be the response. One way to discredit information is to discredit the person presenting it, and I assume this tactic will be employed as well.

So why am I putting my head on the chopping block? Notoriety? Hardly. Well, as I said, I want intel even if it conflicts with what I hope for. I believe people can ship the way they want (within reason) and as KDS infamously said, believe what you want. I don’t wish to convince anybody, nor get into a slanging match with anyone. It would be pointless really. I feel obligated out of principle to reveal the info and not hide it no matter how controversial and inconvenient that might be. I understand some may not think it a good time in the fandom right now to deal with this but I didn’t want the info dating too much before putting it on the table. I understand and I am sorry. But is there an optimal time to hear this?

People like I, who want to know what is going on or had suspicions, and are prepared to accept this information, will welcome it. They have had enough of the mess that is happening right now in The Narrative as well. Also, I don't wish to be intimidated into keeping contrary evidence hidden just because it doesn’t suit the manifesto. And I apologise in advance to high-profile shippers who will probably be inundated with comments and asks. I accept there will be jealousy involved. Why did a newb get this intel? Believe me, I wish it didn’t happen to me; I really wish it was someone else. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

For the record, yes, I’m Australian living in Australia. I understand some people’s problem with that. Why does so much narrative controversy emanate from this place? I don’t know. I wish I knew. We often call it the lucky country (for various reasons). Do we appear have more luck than the Irish?!

However, and unfortunately, this does not provide closure for me. I accept the Tait wedding. I do have problems with the Tait marriage, sorry to say. I don’t know why games are being played. Cait still doesn’t call her husband Tony, there were no wedding or engagement photos made public, and no confirmation from her PR team when wedding articles hit the magazines. It seems like secrecy, not privacy. Why so secret? We continue to see gaslighting, innuendo, and an intentional vagueness, to keep us all engaged it seems?! And Hawaiigate is certainly a head scratcher at best.

So, in summing up, the four things I learnt about the wedding are:

1. The wedding happened.

2. Cait married Tony.

3. Tobias was there.

4. Sam posted Sophie’s remarkable Dunhill manipulated photo on IG and Cait wasn’t too happy about it.

Most shippers won’t like my saying Tait is real and most antis won’t like my saying Sam and Cait continue to play games. But that’s ok. I knew this going in. I just think it is important for the info to be put out there. I don’t wish to appear foolish, talking about a fake wedding, now that I know Cait married Tony. I think there must be other intel such as this out there. Perhaps the time is right for others to make their intel known.

I believe the four things Sophie said about the wedding. I do not have any further intel to share, nor do I have any further theories on what is happening with Sam, Cait, or Tony that haven’t been discussed on Tumblr already. With this in mind, I’m prepared to answer every constructive and civil comment I may receive on this post, including any DMs. If you wish, please look through my blog to see what I have posted. You will find it aligns with this side's thinking. You may see some names that do not. Please consider the message, not the messenger. And please, it would be appreciated if you would do some homework before making any comment. Thank you for your time in reading this long and very difficult post. I imagine, many will take some time to process it.

[makeste]

some rambling about legacies, and opening up, and All Might has two sons more at 11

can I offer you an essay about All Might and his children in these trying times.

so back before he got swept up in the great tides of character development, Bakugou used to think that in order for him to succeed at becoming the best hero, it meant that Deku could not succeed. he thought it was a zero sum game; he could only be strong if Deku stayed weak. if Deku grew strong, then that would mean he was the weak one. there wasn’t room for the two of them to reach the top together. it could only be one or the other.

this is of course patently false, and we’ve since seen it disproven beyond a shadow of a doubt, and Katsuki has learned that it’s okay for them to work together. not just okay, but correct; the only way, the best way. it doesn’t make him weak; working with Deku improves them both and helps them both to succeed.

so given that, I think it stands to reason that if this holds true for success and power levels, it should also hold true for their character development, and their personal relationships -- such as their relationship with All Might.

   oddly enough, this is something that’s come under a fair amount of criticism. and interestingly, these criticisms have come from two very different perspectives. All Might spent too much time with Deku and focused too much on him and ignored Katsuki in his favoritism, which did a great deal of harm to Katsuki’s mental health. or the reverse: All Might’s bond with Deku is special and important, and there’s a closeness there that should never have been encroached on by Bakugou, and him sitting in on all of the OFA Club meetings now is unfair to Deku and takes away the one special thing that he had, and for once Kacchan should not make it about him and should butt out.

there isn’t room for both. or so both of these standpoints would seem to imply. All Might cannot be a close mentor to both Katsuki and Izuku; if he gets closer to one, it must necessarily be at the expense of the other.

pardon my very blunt take, but... bullshit.

let’s start by talking about something which I don’t often see discussed: All Might’s similarities to Bakugou. yes, Bakugou. not Izuku, the little green Might Jr., but Bakugou Katsuki, whose hostile and volcanic personality would at first glance seem to clash with All Might’s in almost every way possible. All Might is kind and altruistic and empathetic and burdened with a soul-deep need to help and protect others. All Might was born quirkless. All Might is the mirror image of Deku. All Might chose Deku as his successor specifically because he sees himself in Deku. all of this is absolutely true.

but All Might also keeps to himself. All Might goes to great lengths to avoid being seen as weak. All Might doesn’t let people close to him. All Might rarely works as part of a team. All Might is a natural talent. All Might smiles when he’s up against a wall. All Might is synonymous with determination. and All Might takes responsibility far beyond what he should, and burdens himself and blames himself when things go wrong, even when the outcome is out of his control. and at those times, All Might blames himself for not being stronger.

do you see?? All Might is like Deku, yes, but not only Deku. the truth is that All Might and Katsuki are alike as well. not only are they alike, they’re far too alike, in ways that All Might probably wishes they were not. where Deku is a mirror of All Might’s goodness and selflessness and optimism, Katsuki is a mirror of All Might’s strength and resolve and determination. but he is also a mirror of what is possibly All Might’s greatest weakness: his isolation.

this, perhaps, is a natural consequence that comes from having the sort of physical talent that both he and Katsuki possess. All Might grew up quirkless just as Deku did, yes, but once he received One for All from Nana in his teens, he took to it just as instinctively and intuitively as Katsuki has taken to his quirk. there was none of the steep learning curve that Deku experienced; OFA came to All Might easily, and he was by all accounts a force of nature during his school years.

the downside of this, however, is that when everything comes easily to you, you start to feel like everything always should. that because you are capable, you need to be capable. you start to build up expectations of yourself that don’t take into account the simple truth that no matter how gifted you are, everybody fails at some point or another. and because you are strong, because you never fail, you never learn how to let yourself rely on other people. you never learn how to ask for help.

and needless to say, this is a terrible, even fatal weakness to have. and what makes it all the more destructive is that this particular weakness is self-perpetuating and feeds into itself. you don’t know how to admit when you need help, and so you never get the help you need. it’s a brutal fucking cycle, and so it’s no wonder that All Might spent years and years and years trying to do everything all alone.

and he lost Nana. his mentor, the woman who was like a mother to him. and that only made matters worse. he lost the person who believed in him and encouraged him, and who understood the burden he was carrying better than anyone else, because she herself had struggled with that same burden. and so the one person he might have been able to reach out to, he ended up losing in the most devastating way possible. and so not only was he heartbroken and traumatized and likely blaming himself, but it also left him more alone than ever before, with the pain of that loss basically ensuring he wouldn’t ever open himself up and let anyone else in again.

and it’s easy to look at the impact of All Might’s downfall at Kamino, and the many shortcomings and vulnerabilities it exposed, and wonder what the hell he was thinking, and to blame him for not recognizing the fragility of the society he helped to build, and for the arrogance of thinking that a lone pillar could support an entire country all on its own and not inevitably come crumbling down. and yes; for all of his goodness and optimism, the notion that All Might had of a lone Symbol of Peace was deeply flawed.

but we learn from our failures. and after decades of struggling to support the world all on his own, All Might finally did fail. and after years of stubbornly trying to fight on anyway in spite of his injuries, he was finally forced to accept that his time was coming to an end, and that he needed to pass on his legacy. and in many ways, his mentoring of Izuku has been as much of a learning process for him as it has been for his protege. 

because for all of the similarities I discussed earlier, there are also ways in which Deku is not like him at all. Deku is used to failure. Deku is not afraid to ask for help. and Deku does naturally what All Might has always struggled to do: he reaches out.

and who does he reach out to? first and foremost, to another boy with whom, as I mentioned, All Might shares all too many similarities.

another boy who’s isolated. another boy who doesn’t know how to ask for help, who is afraid to fail.

All Might understands Katsuki remarkably well right from the start. of course he does; how could he not? and because he is all too aware of the effect that kind of stubborn self-reliance has on a person, he is hesitant at first to reach out to Katsuki in the same way that he does to Izuku. not because of a lack of care or concern, but because he knows -- all too well -- that Katsuki will not accept it. and so instead he takes a different approach with him, trying to guide him while still respecting his pride and stubbornness.

so this is kind of the status quo for them for a while. but now here’s where things finally get interesting. because as All Might’s powers continue to wane, and he’s forced to come to terms with his own weaknesses and to rely more and more on others, he finally begins to see where it was that he went wrong. and as he grows to care more about Izuku, he realizes that he doesn’t want him to have to suffer in the same way that he did.

and during this same time, Katsuki is also starting to go through his own personal journey which includes so many of the same struggles that All Might came up against. everything that comes along with the mindset of thinking you only need to rely on yourself. so here, again, is someone who is so much like All Might was. who is putting the same kind of pressure on himself of thinking that it’s not okay to fail. and who, eventually, also comes to experience the same pain of feeling responsible for the “loss” of someone he admired more than anyone.

and it’s one thing for All Might not to acknowledge his own pain, but it’s quite another to recognize that same pain in someone else. and I think that once he did, he came to the same realization he did with Izuku: that he doesn’t want Katsuki to suffer like he did. see, that’s the thing about being selfless. you’re numb to it while it only affects you. it’s not until you see that same pain affecting someone else that you finally start to realize how fucked up it actually is.

  and so this, fittingly, is what prompts All Might to finally reach out to Katsuki. the realization that Katsuki has been struggling alone, the same as himself. and at the same time, the long-overdue and crucial recognition that the past doesn’t have to be repeated. that he can be there for him, even if he’s still trying to figure out the best way how, and even if he still hasn’t come to terms with the near-identical burdens that he bears himself.

and so Katsuki has now officially gained one (1) Dadmight as well. and so here we have two boys, each a reflection of their beloved hero in their own way. two boys, and one legacy. a legacy which All Might carried proudly, but which nearly ended up destroying him in the end. two boys whose strengths and weaknesses seamlessly complement each other’s. two boys who already share a bond the likes of which All Might himself never had growing up.

the solution is obvious. but more than that, it’s necessary. so that neither of these boys has to go through what he went through. so that neither of them will ever have to fight alone. so that if they fall -- when they fall -- the other one will be there to help them get back up.

Deku has the quirk, but One for All is more than just a quirk. pardon me for getting all sappy, but it’s right there in the name -- One for All. it’s more than a power; it’s the legacy of working together to fight evil. a legacy of inspiring hope in others. and a legacy of never, ever giving up.

that legacy is both of theirs to share. that will is both of theirs to inherit. both Izuku and Katsuki are All Might’s successors. and he takes pride in them both.

and All Might doesn’t love Izuku any less because he is also a mentor to Katsuki. and All Might doesn’t care about Katsuki any less because he also has a close bond with Izuku. and All Might mentoring the one will always also be in the other one’s best interests. because the stronger they become, the stronger they can be for each other.

and they’ll need to be. because one thing All Might does understand all too well is that regardless of whether he lives or dies, he won’t always be able to be there for them.

so do you see? the reason why it’s so important for All Might to mentor them both. to mentor them together. because Katsuki can inspire and support Izuku in ways that All Might can’t. Izuku can reach Katsuki to an extent which All Might cannot. and All Might knows this, and has understood it almost from the start.

in conclusion, there really isn’t and never has been a war for All Might’s affections. Katsuki becoming a part of the squad isn’t forced; it’s foreshadowed. it doesn’t take away from what All Might has with Deku; it’s proof that All Might cares deeply about Deku and is taking steps to secure his future. and for All Might himself, it gives him a new purpose: to be there for these kids, to guide them and continue to support them.

and them coming together shows their growth. it shows how far they’ve come as characters. it’s the culmination of something that has been in the works since the start. All Might has two sons, plain and simple, and debating which one is the favorite child is really missing the entire point. that this is the story of two boys, who grew up admiring the same person.

and the story of how the two of them take that legacy, and make it their own.

together.

anyway that’s my post! if anyone needs me I’ll be sitting here thinking about these boys and how much I love them and their dad, and pondering other comforting topics to write therapeutic essays about.

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter Five: THE INFINITY WARDROBE

Three dances.

He could do this.

He hated that he  had  to do this, but he could. The taste of alcohol on his tongue, its burn at the back of his throat... they were tempting, but he knew better than to rely on them. He never tasted any that he hadn't seen served himself, and in a function such as this one, it meant he had only ever carried a single glass throughout.

His lips pinched together, remember the last time he'd forgotten to keep a close eye on his drinks.

A cold grip closed over his guts. Nope. He shouldn't go there. Not the right time. Every notable noble in the kingdom was watching his every move.

Warriors had busied himself teaching his brothers how to best deal with the nobility at his Queen's gala for the past two days. He could say he was proud of Hyrule's and Wind's progress in particular. Neither had had much manners or interest in them before and not one lady had fainted from their crude or frank behaviors. He also had to admire Four's control in accepting the few pinches on the cheeks he got for being so fun-sized.

  I'll give him a bigger part in our next plans of attack. That's a ton of resentment to vent. Whatever monster we face next will be very dead.

“And I was just telling our dear Hero Link here how-” Lady Farosi bragged to Lord this and Lady that and Warriors carefully agreed at all the right places.

He used to like these things. Used to be proud of his role.

'It's you! All this time, the deaths, the battles, it was all because  she  wanted  you !'

Three dances. He had given the first one to Zelda, of course. No one could ever protest that choice of partner. The Queen and her knight. The most important figures in the War of Eras. A splendid couple, though he could not tell if Zelda felt any attraction towards him, the way he...

Warriors shook his head, made an excuse and stauntered to the buffet table, under which he thought he'd seen Legend hide. Two more dances. Then I'm free to leave. Hide in the stables. Play a game with the guards or maybe pay back Twilight for our last match.

He offered Sky a smile when his brother offered him a plate with some meat skewers and a piece of cheese. His stomach protested the very idea of food at the moment, but he appreciated the thoughtfulness. He forced himself to nibble on some of the cheese. It gave him an excuse not to talk to Lady Lanayrou. To dodge her attempt at linking their arms.

  Second dance will be soon.

He scanned the crowd for a proper candidate that wouldn't be draping themselves all over him.

General Impa met his gaze over the crowd of mingling nobles, and his desperation must have shown on his face for she scowled something fierce at him. Right. Sheika. Security detail. Not the kind of person that should be on the dance floor.

With a sigh, Warriors resigned himself to letting whichever lady found him first have first right at a dance with him. Hopefully they'd listened if he said-

“Hey,” said a slightly  off  woman's voice, “do you think you could show me the steps?”

Warriors froze.

A slim, pale Hylian in a turquoise gerudo outfit stared patiently at him. Scars peeked out from under a tasteful veil that hid their chin, mouth and nose, leaving only startling blue eyes. He knew both the veil and the eyes.

Oh.

His gaze flickered down to the extensive network of spider web scars on the sides of the Hylian's torso. The outfit left little to the imagination. It was on full display.

For a second, he struggled to breath, realizing the extent of his brother's action. Warriors needed to apologize so damn much!

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he hurried to blink them away, taking the offer with as much gratitude as he could show his brother. Together, they reached the dance floor, and Warriors barely noticed the few times his feet were stepped on. At this point, Wild could stab him and he'd be thankful. Just swaying to the rhythm of the music and making jokes at the expense of the obnoxious people around them was one of the best dances he ever went through.

And then, someone reminded him just where he was.

“Who's this pasty ruin?” Lady Dynral loudly whispered behind her hand fan.

Twilight, who had just previously been attempting to convince a fair maiden that he was mute, tragically incapable of dancing and awaited in a backwater hut where he'd forgotten to turn off the stove, froze.

(It was no secret that Twilight couldn't  quite pull off the neutral look of disappointment patented by the old man. It was a decent attempt, but they all had earned the original too often for the off-brand version to work.)

(What he  could  however pull off was the deadly stillness of a predator stalking a prey that had been just too loud. Eyes that promised death. Eventually.)

The chill alone made hair rise on the back of Warriors' neck and he was barely in the general vicinity of the lady. Now that was some killer instinct. The blatant bloodlust made his chest pang with nostalgia.

Goddesses he'd take another war over this...

However, seeing Lady Dynral's face drain of blood like this filled him with a singular vindictive happiness.

“Never seen Lady Dynral flee a function this fast before,” Warriors chuckled, twirling Wild at the tip of his arm for another round. “Our farmer's got your honor' back, huh?”

The veil hid Wild's face, but not the curious look in his eyes, nor the faint tilt of his head. “He cares about you too,” he said, softly. “We all do, Warriors.”

Warriors couldn't speak with such a soft feeling warming his chest. Wild's fingers squeezed his hands, then let him go. The others all gave him subtle thumbs up throughout the crowd, encouraging him to stay strong in the face of this battle. Dozens of skirmishes flashed behind his eyes, memories where he stood back to back with them, brothers-in-arms before the forces of evil.

(Sky found him another plate, which he did eat this time. Twilight patted him in the back strong enough to make him stumble into a lord, and wasn't that a shame. 'Ah, my mightily sorries, your lordness!' and Hylia alone knew how he hadn't burst out laughing at that one. Wind subtly hinted at the possibility of skedaddling mid dance if things were needed. 'I can fake illness like you wouldn't believe, War'.')

Third dance.  And he had to admit, it looked like it wouldn't be so bad. Wild's assurance and the others' support made it feel smaller than before. He only needed to dance one more time, and he had had fun at a function for once...

Warriors almost felt serene when the bards on stage began plucking at their instruments' strings.

“Announcing... ” one of the guards near the door suddenly shouted, grinding the activities to a halt, “Princess Lore-al of Koholint!”

“What the f-?!” Wind's attempted swearing mercifully was stopped short by Sky's hand covering his mouth. No one even looked their way.

But Warriors deeply understood the sentiment.

The dress was impressive. Cut from the finest fabric, maybe enchanted silk, white with golden accents, and a gentle pink layer in the style of old royalty. Twenty or so rings, gold, silver and platinum, adorned the newcomers' fingers. Some inserted with gemstones, other carved with hylian runes.

Warriors really wanted to know where he'd gotten the tiara. He could have sworn...

Unlike Wild, Legend hadn't bothered with hiding his face. Or transforming it with make-up. He seemingly relied entirely on his natural twinkitude. And the lack of his ever present scowl that softened his looks considerably.

Amazingly, the haughty, confident expression on Legend's face wouldn't have been out of place amongst royalty. His absolute lack of shame as the rest of the ballroom stared did more for his credibility than an actual magic spell would have.

Warriors felt he ought to laugh, but he was too shell-shocked to do so.

Legend strutted, on high heels, right up to him, finally deigning to meet his eyes as if they were meeting for the first time.

“May I have the honor of this dance, Brave Hero?” Legend offered his hand, which Warriors contemplated like he would the head of a particularly vicious and hungry dodongo.

A long series of excuses came to mind, ranging from needing to go iron his wolf and thinking he heard Ganon call his name somewhere. Wild was one thing.  Legend though? The veteran gambling addict would extract so many favors out of this...

Of course, Legend had to raise an eyebrow like he was challenging him to a game of cuccos and Warriors' entire being tossed caution to the wind in a resounding, mental  fuck it .

With all the assurance of a chosen hero of Courage, he snatched a tulip from some of the nearby decoration, bit down on the stem and winked. “The honor shall be mine, Princess Lore-al.”

The musicians noticeable hesitated before starting to play again, and Warriors would have bet that his Queen had subtly instructed them to go on as normal.

The lascivious beat of a tango resonated around them. Legend's smirk widened, his eyelashes batting. “A red rupee you can't lift me one-handed over your head, Brave Hero.”

Despite himself, Warriors grinned. “You're on, Princess.”

 BONUS

“So... where was the old man tonight?” Wind asked as they made their way back to their suite in the guest wing of the castle. “Couldn't find him.”

Hyrule frowned. “Wait, seriously? You didn't notice him? He was really obvious.”

Wind exchanged a glance with Sky and both came to the same conclusion. “What?”

“He was standing next to some of the really snobbish nobles all night. Just looming. Like when he's really pissed at our collective stupidity. They kept glancing around like they were wondering.”

The Links exchanged glances, mulling their recollections of the evening and arrived to a collective conclusion.

“Bullshit.”

Hyrule gave them an uncertain look.

“Was it the mask?” he mumbled, suddenly unsure. “You guys noticed the freaky grayish purple mask, at least? Like, it hid his entire face, but that was still clearly him, body type and stance and all.”

They turned toward Twilight, who shrugged. “Magic?”

They agreed, Hyrule especially. “Magic.”

A few steps later, Wind broke the silence again.

“... So the old man spent the evening just putting the fear of evil spirits in the nobility?”

Warriors snickered.

“Sounds like him, alright,” Twilight drawled.

 DOUBLE BONUS

“You know...” Sky mused, his hands stilling over the piece of wood he was carving. “Maybe I should just ask Zelda to make it Hylian law to never hold balls.”

Four frowned and looked at Time. “Wouldn't that unraveled, you know, the fabric of time and space?”

Time shrugged, looking quite relaxed sitting by an old tree.

“Oh, right,” Sky mumbled, now hesitant.

Warriors fell on his knees. “I'd give you my firstborn, Sky! Please!”

Legend huffed. “Well, now he's gonna have to make those officials.”

Four put a hand on his forehead. “Does  that  count as a paradox? How many of those have we caused actually?”

“I meant Sky being straddled with Warriors' spawn, but sure. Tons of 'em.”

“HEY!”

[jalapeno-princess]

Take My Hand

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Fluff with some angst

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Your parents have been planning your marriage to the Park family’s only son Jinyoung from the time you were born. You accepted the arrangement and came to terms with the fact that you were going to marry someone in order to strengthen your family’s companies. However, everything goes to shit when you fall in love with your coworker.

A/N: This is my first request! I’m sorry anon if this doesn’t meet your standards and if it’s all over the place. I’m still trying to get better with my writing. if you like this, feel free to send in more requests! This was honestly so rushed I’m sorry but please enjoy! Based on Run Away by Got7

You didn’t mean to fall in love with him, but it was inevitable. When you met him almost a year ago, you didn’t think he would be the one to capture your heart. Especially because you were engaged. Love was a foreign word. You considered it to be taboo. Your parents decided that you wouldn’t have a chance at having any idea of what love was before you could actually talk. They made an agreement with your fiancés parents even before either of you were born that the two of you were to get married once you both were of legal age to do so in order for both their companies to thrive. Or so they claimed.

Both your and Jinyoung’s father were the presidents of some of the biggest technology companies in the country. Your father was fully aware that having his only daughter marry the Park family’s only son would make your companies even stronger than they already were. This also meant more income coming in for both parties.

It wasn’t that you disliked your fiancé. Far from it actually. You and Jinyoung were civil, to the point where you would even consider yourselves friends.

However, even before learning what love was through Mark, you knew you didn’t love Jinyoung. You could never consider Jinyoung as anything more than a friend; the other half of a very unfortunate and unwanted arranged marriage.

Plus, the two of you only really interacted when your parents were around. You were never one to go against your parents wishes. As the only child, you did whatever you could in order to make your parents happy. You did everything they told you to do and constantly changed yourself in order to be a daughter they were proud of. That was until Mark walked in to your life.

Mark Tuan. The actual love of your life. Your best friend. The man who showed you what love was. Even if the two of you weren’t together for too long, you knew he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The feelings you had for him were indescribable. A smile would rise on your face at just the mere thought of him. Even if you knew the consequences of having an affair and what would happen if you didn’t go along with the marriage, you were willing to take the risk. Especially if it meant getting to be with Mark.

You had just become a kindergarten teacher when your paths collided. He had been teaching for a little over three years at the time and so the principal had him show you around. He was extremely handsome, there was no doubt about it. But it wasn’t just his attractive looks that had you hooked on him. It was his kindness, patience, optimism. The way his eyes would light up whenever you’d observe him teaching his students brought warmth to your cheeks. He was the perfect guy and pretty much everything you could want in a significant other.

The two of you began spending more and more time together as the months went by and soon you found yourself falling for him. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you had feelings for him. You found yourself missing him on the weekends and when spring break came around, one week felt like months away from him. But you didn’t know what this feeling was, nor did you want to act upon it because it was wrong. And you weren’t too sure how Mark felt about you.

Sure, he was extremely nice to you, and you would catch him sneaking glances at you from time to time. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Little did you know, he was just as head over heels for you as you were with him. He thought you were such an amazing teacher and he truly believed you were otherworldly. To Mark, you were an ethereal being; a sight for sore eyes and he found himself craving your presence all the time. Which is why he finally built the courage to ask you out on a date.

When he pulled you on the side one morning while the kids were at recess and asked to talk to you, you didn’t think much about it. That was until you saw the beautiful bouquet of sunflowers he was trying to hide behind his back and the pink tint on his cheeks as he nervously scratched the back of his neck. When he confessed his feelings for you, you were over the moon. However, constant red flags went off in your head. No matter how badly you wanted to go out with him, you knew you had no right to. Nor did you want to lead Mark on by saying yes, only for him to find out about your engagement if the two of you were to get serious. Yet, you found yourself agreeing.

Your first date together wasn’t something you could put in to words. He was such a gentleman and also quite the joker. You didn’t think you were capable of so much laughter. Growing up, you would hear some of your classmates talk about having “butterflies swarm around in their tummy” whenever they would talk to their crush. But you never quite understood what it meant. As you walked hand in hand with Mark, you now had a clue what they were talking about. Although, butterflies didn’t even come close to describing the feeling Mark gave you.

Dating Mark felt like a dream. Sometimes, you had a hard time believing that he was actually real. You fell in love with him faster than you’d like to admit. He made you feel things that you were afraid of at first. Only because you didn’t think someone like you, someone who’s parents had planned out her life before she was even born, would have the chance to do something you actually wanted. Not something your parents wanted you to do.

Your relationship with Mark was one of the only things in your life that you had control over and you were going to make the most of it. He sent fire to your bones with the slightest of touches. He would always find an excuse to come in to your classroom just to see you and sometimes, he would sneak a few kisses when your students weren’t looking. Mark was also very thoughtful. Seeing as how you would always get up early to go to work, he had a feeling you weren’t taking care of yourself by eating your meals. That’s why you would always find some sort of pastry on your desk almost every morning and the thought always made you blush.

As the months went by, things only got harder for you. The wedding planning had begun. Since you and Jinyoung were both legal adults with full time jobs, your parents felt that it was time the two of you finally tied the knot. You didn’t know what to do. You felt torn. It’s been six months since the two of you started seeing each other and Mark had yet to learn about your fiancé and how you were months away from getting married to another man.

The two of you had just finished a passionate night of love making when you decided it was time to let him know. The guilt was eating away at you and you could no longer hold it in anymore. Right as you were about to open your mouth and say something, he beat you to it.

“I’m in love with you.”

You were stunned to say the least. Hearing those words leave his pretty lips sent your body ablaze. You couldn’t breathe. It was all too much. When he noticed your blank stare, he felt his heart sink. Was he rushing things? Did he say it too early? Did you not feel the same?

“Mark I-“ he sadly shook his head.

“No, it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I just..I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’ve been wanting to say it for months now but I didn’t want to scare you away. I should’ve waited a little bit longer shouldn’t I?”

Seeing his adorable pout made you feel guilty. You’ve been wanting to hear him say those five words for the longest time now. But you knew it was wrong. How could you have let Mark fall in love with you knowing you could not completely give yourself to him the way he deserved? Mark deserved someone who wasn’t already tied down to someone else. Someone with less baggage. Someone who wasn’t already theoretically taken.

“I’m in love with you too Mark.” His frown quickly disappeared as a smile rose on to his handsome face. However, it was quick to disappear again when you said the next words.

“I’m engaged.” When you felt him release his grip from off your waist, you could feel tears brimming at your eyelids. As much as you wanted to relinquish in your newfound love, you couldn’t continue hiding from him. The two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours. You wanted to wait for his reaction to your sudden confession, yet the silence was killing you. All too soon, he stood up and picked up his phone, all the while putting some clothes on.

“Mark..Mark please listen to me..I can explain-“ He let out a sarcastic laugh and scoffed. When you saw his facial expression, another pang of hurt hit your chest. Sure, he looked pissed. He had every right to be. But you’ve been with him long enough to know that he was upset. You had just told your boyfriend that you were engaged to another man and you’ve been keeping it a secret from him for the duration of your relationship. What did you expect?

“Explain? What is there to explain? Is this a fucking game to you y/n? Is my heart a fucking toy? You’re engaged? That’s a joke right? You must be kidding me. How could you..why would you..I can’t even think right now. I can’t do this. I have to go.”

You immediately made your way towards him, reaching out for him but he was quick to push you away. Is this what heartbreak felt like? You were sure of it. It was a feeling you never wanted to experience, but here you were. Hurting the only person who has ever meant anything to you.

“Mark. Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I love you so much-“ he stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at you. It took every bone in his body not to reach out to you and pull you in to his embrace. If there was something Mark hated, it was seeing you cry.

One time, you were being evaluated by the superintendent because she wanted to see how your first year of being a teacher was going so far. At first, you thought things were going quite well. That was until she pulled you to the side and pointed out everything she thought you were doing wrong. When she left, you let everything out and started sobbing. You were so deep in to your crying session that you failed to notice Mark entering your classroom until you felt him pull you in to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings in to your ear. Seeing you so fragile and so weak broke his heart and he vowed to make sure you would never cry again. But you weren’t the victim this time.

“Love me huh. You love me? You’ve been hiding the fact that you have a fiancé from me y/n! You’re engaged! You’re getting married to someone who isn’t me and you failed to inform me about it. That’s some kind of twisted form of love don’t you think?” He roughly pinched the bridge of his nose and released a frustrated sigh. “I wish you would’ve said something earlier. I wouldn’t have let myself fall in love with someone whose practically unavailable. Damnit y/n! How could you do this to me? Fuck. What else are you hiding from me?”

The tears wouldn’t stop falling and you never hated yourself more than you did in that moment. You wanted nothing more than to apologize to him and explain to him the entire situation, but it was too late. The damage was done. He released one more sigh before punching the wall and storming out of his room. Once he left, you sank to the ground and continued your sobbing. You were worried at the thought of him driving while he was so frustrated, but you were the reason he was so upset. No matter how badly you wanted to call him and see if he was okay, you didn’t want to make matters worse.

After a while, you finally calmed down and decided to go to sleep. Since you were in Mark’s apartment, you didn’t feel right sleeping on his bed just in case he were to come home and want to go straight to sleep. Therefore, you made your way to the living room and flopped down on his couch. Soon, you found yourself falling asleep. You woke up in the middle of the night when you felt yourself being picked up and at first you were worried, until you saw him. Even in the dark, you could see the dried up tears and how red his eyes were.

Although you were still a bit sleepy, the thought of him crying made you tear up. Mark was never one to really cry, but when he did you know something was really bothering him.

“Mark-“ he softly placed his finger on your lips in attempts to prevent you from talking and continued carrying you to his room.

“The couch isn’t a good place to sleep. Your back will be sore in the morning.” You looked up at him and hesitantly grazed his cheek with your thumb. To both of your surprise, he leaned in to your palm and placed a soft kiss against it. Once you both entered his room, he placed you gently on his bed before taking his place next to you. You purposely turned the other way just in case he was still mad, but deep down you wanted nothing more than for him to hold you. When you felt him turn you around, a small smile rose upon your face and he brought his hands in to your hair.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve let you explain yourself. I was just upset-“ You shook your head in disagreement. This was one of the many reasons why you were so in love with the beautiful man lying in front of you. Even if you did wrong, he was the one apologizing and wanting to take care of you.

“You have every right to be. I’m so sorry Mark. I didn’t mean to keep this from you, I just..I don’t know. I wanted to be selfish. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And God knows the last thing I wanted to do was make you cry. I’m engaged. But not for the reasons that you think. I’m not cheating on him or anything. He and I..we’re not actually together. Our parents..they’ve been planning this arranged marriage between the two of us before we were both even born.” You released an exhausted sigh and took a while to breathe before continuing.

“Our fathers are both presidents of their own companies and they wanted us to get married in order for both their companies to become more successful. At first, I accepted it. I was always one to listen to what my parents wanted me to do with no questions asked. But then I met you. And I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to kiss you, hold you, be held by you, love you. I wanted to be yours. So I pushed the thought of the marriage to the back of my mind and put myself first for once. Loving you was the best decision I’ve ever made Mark Tuan.”

Your fingers made their way up to his face and you started absentmindedly tracing his features. “I never knew what love was until I met you. I was willing to risk it all for you, for us to be together. I didn’t care about the consequences that came with going against my parents wishes, especially because this arrangement is set in stone. All I care about is you. All I want, all I know, all I need..is you. I love you. With my entire being. I didn’t mean to keep this from you. I just didn’t want to lose you if you found out and decided you didn’t want to be with me. But that went to shit didn’t it?”

He let out a soft chuckle and you found yourself cuddling closer in to his body. Mark was your safe haven. You always felt so happy, so warm whenever he was around. He could make all your worries and problems go away by just a kiss on your lips. He was your own personal drug and you were at the point where you refused to live without him.

“I don’t know what to do Mark. We’re supposed to be getting married here soon. I don’t want to marry him. I want to be with you.” He brought one hand down to your waist and started caressing your hip bone while tracing your lips with the other one.

“Do you love me?” You quickly nodded. If there was something you were confident in, it was the love you had for Mark.

“More than anything. You know that.” He lowered himself in order to be eye level with you before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of your lip.

“You wanna be with me?”

“For the rest of my life.”

“Do you trust me?”

“With every bone in my body.”

“Would you do something for me then?”

You looked up at him in curiosity before humming in agreement. “Anything.”

He placed his forehead against yours and sighed. “Run away with me.”

The idea of running away from your family upset you. It wasn’t that they mistreated you, nor did you have negative feelings for your family. Sometimes you wish your parents were cold towards you so that the idea of running away and leaving everything behind didn’t bother you. But you did have negative feelings for the arrangement and the thought of running away in order to spend the rest of your days with Mark sent shivers down your spine.

Just like they did all those months ago, red flags started going off in your mind. However, yet again, you found yourself putting yourself first. Looking at Mark, you knew you would do anything and everything he’d ask you to. A part of you didn’t want to upset your parents by not going through with the wedding, but you refused to marry a man you weren’t in love with for the sake of both of your companies. Your dad would just have to find another way of increasing business.

Sure, you were afraid of losing your family, but the man who’s arms were currently wrapped tightly around your waist as if he was afraid to lose you was all the family you needed. Which is why it came as no shock when you found yourself nodding against his lips as he pulled you in to a passionate kiss.

“God y/n, I’m so in love with you. I don’t know where we’ll go or what we’ll do or where we live. All I know is as long as I’m with you, I have everything I need. I’m going to take good care of you baby. I promise.”

[minnarr]

leia meets the prequels gang, pt. 2

part 1 is here

Last time, Leia got dragged from her moment of greatest grief to one of Anakin’s; helped avert a Big Mistake; and realized just what a mess she has gotten into. In this section, the Clone Wars are just beginning and Leia meets Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi at last.

----

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Anakin muttered.

They had found Obi-Wan. Unfortunately, where they had found him was chained up at the center of an arena – right next to Padmé, captured in the chaos of their arrival on Geonosis. It had not been a smooth rescue operation. One point of optimism: they’d loaned Leia a blaster.

Leia and Anakin were in one of the tunnels leading into the arena. She’d been surprised to find it empty, but she wasn’t going to argue. She squinted into the glare of the sun, taking note of the roaring crowd. “Any ideas about how to get those two out of this?” Leia asked.

Whatever bright ideas they might have come with, they got cornered by battle droids instead. They fought surprisingly seamlessly together, Anakin slashing droids to pieces while Leia fired blaster bolt after blaster bolt. Leia caught glimpses of some kind of gladiatorial game in the arena, and hoped like hell Obi-Wan and Padmé were handling that all right. They were fighting back-to-back when Leia look an unlucky hit.

More Jedi arrived just in the nick of time, flashing lightsabers cutting a path through the droids.

This wasn’t my battle to fight, Leia told herself later, trying not to flinch as a medic in white armor applied a bacta patches to her burns. This isn’t my war. These aren’t Stormtroopers, not yet.

If she had doubted when she was before, she knew exactly what year it was now. She was right in the middle of the First Battle of Geonosis, the beginning of the Clone Wars proper. This was her father’s war. She tried not to look at that thought, tried not to think about her parents, alive, and Alderaan, shining blue and unharmed. It hurt too much.

“Just hang tight, ma’am,” the medic said, touching her good shoulder. “These should see to the worst of it. Just rest and heal up.”

She closed her eyes, listening to the distant blasts and roar of battle. She’d been here a thousand times, though rarely as an injured soldier. Military bases and battles had become her home. And she knew that the Republic had won this first battle; barring bad luck, there was no reason to believe she would die today.

The quiet hum of the engines turning on roused her. “Where are we going?” she asked the nearest trooper.

“Coruscant,” he said shortly.

“Wait,” she said, before he could go. “I’m with the Jedi. I need to...report to them when we get to Coruscant.”

“Noted. Ma’am.” He left her, and she settled in for the long trip. Sleep now, and worry when there was something she could do about it. Her body, trained for this by now, listened.

Leia kept reminding every trooper who handled her where she needed to be. As they passed over the Senate district, Leia realized they were approaching a building she recognized: a massive trapezoidal structure that towered over the surrounding buildings, with towers that rose like stalks towards the sky. A shiver went through her. It wouldn’t be the Imperial Palace, not yet, but her instincts didn’t recognize that.

The medic who’d seen to her wounds – he’d introduced himself as Skye – had come to stand beside her at the viewport. “Must be the Jedi Temple,” he said, sounding faintly awed. “Think I’ll volunteer to see you in, get a look at the place.”

“That eager to see it?” Leia said, keeping her voice light. The transport came in to land on a wide platform built onto the side of the temple, and Leia let Skye lend her his arm. Even with the bacta patches, she felt a little shaky on her feet.

The place had been built with tranquility and grandeur in mind, on a scale so large that it would be easy to feel insignificant. Leia was used to this scale from the Senate, and she was on a mission. “Do we wait here?" she asked Skye.

“Someone’s meeting us.” He shifted a little, though she noticed he was careful not to jostle her. Was that discomfort in the shortness of his response? The conversation between them appeared to be over, and they stood in silence until doors opened and an elegant woman stepped out, her simple brown robe trailing behind her.

“I don’t mean to be inhospitable,” she said, her dark eyes sweeping over Leia and pausing on her bandaged shoulder. “I can see that you were injured, and you had a long journey."

Leia understood, suddenly, and a mix of relief and frustration made her want to laugh. She was an unknown quantity, demanding to see the Jedi just when they’d been unexpectedly attacked. “I understand your caution. I came to Geonosis with the Jedi Anakin. I lost track of my friends in the fighting, and I would like to know that they are safe.”

The woman closed her eyes for a moment, seeming to seek something inside herself. Whatever she saw satisfied her. She made a half-turn and gestured to the door. “Come, then. I do not think you will be able to see Anakin, but his other friends are inside.”

Her clone escort was sent back to the ship. The medical ward the woman guided her to was crowded and just shy of chaos; it had not been built to see so many patients at once. They passed through a main ward, then into a hallway, cooler and blessedly quiet in comparison. The woman opened a door, and in the split second before anyone could notice, Leia saw Padmé sitting with her head bowed, looking bone-weary. Padmé raised her head, and her eyes widened. “Leia!” she said, and then they were hugging. Leia was surprised to realize that she was holding on just as tightly as Padmé. She had so few anchors here; thank the Force she had not lost this one.

“The others?” Leia asked when she pulled away.

Padmé glanced away. “Obi-Wan will be fine. Anakin was...badly injured. He’ll live,” she added quickly. “They're sure he’ll live. But he will take some time to recover.”

“Are you waiting for him?” Leia said gently.

The other woman laughed unhappily. “I shouldn’t. I should...I should get back to my people. This was the opposite of what we were supposed to be doing, you know. We left Coruscant to keep me safe.” She was silent a moment, staring into nothing. “And I think we started a war,” she whispered.

“Give me your comm code,” Leia said firmly. “Go back to your people, and I will wait and call you when they say he can have visitors.”

Padmé turned to her, surprised. “How do you know they’ll let you stay?” she said.

“I don’t plan on giving them a choice,” Leia said dryly, and Padmé’s eyes lit with just a spark of mischief. She shook her head, then reached for her comm and read out the code Leia had asked for. Leia committed it to memory.

“This is my personal comm,” Padmé said. She hesitated to move, though. There was a quiet step in the doorway, and they both turned to look. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood there, not yet the general Leia’s father had spoken of, but a coppery-haired man with weariness and determination in every line of his body. Padmé went to him, taking his hands and squeezing them. “He’s in surgery,” she said softly. Then, glancing at Leia: “Come meet someone.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be steered over to Leia. He bowed his head courteously, his eyes raking curiously over her. “Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, this is Leia Antilles,” Padmé said. She managed a ghost of a smile. “Leia, I can finally introduce you to Obi-Wan.”

“Finally?” Obi-Wan said, crooking a brow.

Leia looked Obi-Wan Kenobi over. He had been a familiar name, one she had been holding onto with hope and desperation before some mysterious force brought her back to this time, but she had no idea who he was now, or what he might do for her. But there was kindness in that face, and years of her father’s stories reassured her. “I need help,” she said bluntly. “But it will keep until you know how your...how your friend fares.”

Obi-Wan sat in one of the cushioned chairs and stretched his legs out before him. “To be frank, I could use the distraction,” he said. “Tell me.”

Leia sat down, thinking fast. She looked to Padmé, frowning.

“Would you prefer company, while you tell it? Or privacy?” Padmé asked, reading the indecision in her face.

With relief, Leia said, “Privacy, please. It’s a strange story, and I’m not sure...I’m not sure it’s safe to share.”

Padmé nodded, and Leia was grateful for the understanding. When she had gone, Leia sat in another of the chairs, leaving space between herself and Obi-Wan. “I don’t know much about the Jedi,” she admitted. “Is time travel one of the impossible things they’re capable of?”

Obi-Wan's eyes went from polite inquiry to startled interest in an instant. “Did you see something?”

“Master Kenobi, I experienced something,” Leia said. “I am more than twenty years out of my proper time. From your perspective, I have not yet been born.” Obi-Wan rubbed at his beard, his hand hiding his mouth. Leia’s heart sank. “I take it this is not a well-known Jedi mystery, then,” she said.

“No, indeed,” Obi-Wan said slowly. He looked her over again, his eyes dimming. He leaned away a little. “I can consult with those more learned than I, but I doubt that anyone would know the way to send you back.”

Leia felt the numbness around the hole in the center of her start to slip. Just for a moment, and then she was able to step back again, refocusing on what needed to be done. “No, there is no going back, is there,” she said, her voice low. Even before her trip back in time, she had known that her world was lost. What needed to be done?

“I can see you placed somewhere...find you work, and...”

Leia laughed harshly, cutting Obi-Wan off. “You can help me stop this war, and the next one,” she said.

Obi-Wan reared back as if slapped. “The next one?”

“The one we are fighting against the winners of this one,” Leia said.

She watched him absorb that, watched denial war with fear and sorrow. He took a breath, his nostrils flaring. “That is a tall order,” he said.

“But it must be done,” Leia said. “I must do it, and I can’t do it alone. I have no connections, no resources, in this time. All I have is what I know about what happened—and even that is incomplete.”

Obi-Wan looked thoughtful, then chuckled softly. “What’s so funny?” Leia asked.

“For someone who claims to have no connections, you have stumbled into some powerful friends,” he said. “Or did Padmé not tell you that she is a Senator?”

Leia looked sharply at Obi-Wan, then smiled. “She did not. I suppose it makes sense; she said that Anakin was sent to guard her.”

“There, you see. So you have your choice of people to find you a place in the Republic. But I think...” Obi-Wan met her eyes. “I think that I would like you here in the Temple. I have enough friends here that I think I can manage that. Will you wait until I am able to arrange things?”

He was asking for trust, and Leia knew that he already had it. “Of course.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, then stood. “I asked for a distraction,” he said. “The Force has a wicked sense of humor.” He went out into the hall, and Leia settled in for a long wait.

And so Leia was the only one waiting when a white-robed healer came into the waiting room. “Have you seen Master Kenobi? Knight Skywalker is awake.”

Knight Skywalker? “Do you mean Anakin?” Leia said.

“Yes,” the healer said, a touch impatiently.

“Master Kenobi had business to attend to,” Leia said.

“He will be contacted,” the healer said decisively. She eyed Leia. “Who are you? You’re not Jedi.”

Leia shrugged. “A friend. Leia.”

“I’ll ask if he wants to see you,” the healer said.

“Wait, before you go,” Leia said. “Is there a comm terminal I could use?”

Leia followed the healer’s directions and found the terminal. She put in Padmé’s code, then waited for the call to connect. Padmé’s sounded breathless when she answered. “Is he...?”

“Awake, apparently,” Leia said.

“I’ll be there. Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Padmé said, and ended the call. Leia wondered, not for the first time, just what Anakin and Padmé were to each other. Had they become dear friends while thrust together in the difficult time before the battle, as Leia was beginning to do with Padmé? Or were they long-standing allies, as her father and Obi-Wan might be?

The healer intercepted her on her way back and steered her back towards patient rooms. “He agreed to see you,” she said. “One visitor at a time, mind, so if someone else shows up you’ll have to work that out.”

Leia stepped into the room, feeling strangely uncertain. Anakin looked exhausted and somehow smaller than before. It took her a moment to register the bandages around his arm and realize what had happened. “Hello,” she said calmly, not yet moving closer.

“Leia,” Anakin said. He looked a little lost, his gaze drifting over her shoulder. “Where’s Padmé?”

“On her way,” Leia said. “She had to let people know she was safe, I think. And Obi-Wan is around the Temple somewhere,” she added, before he could ask.

Anakin relaxed bonelessly into the bed, although his face was still tight. “You did well out there,” he said. “Handled yourself in that fight.”

Leia wasn’t sure where he was going with this, what the undercurrents in this conversation were. “It wasn't my first time in one,” she said.

Anakin nodded, and there was something in his eyes that made Leia wary. “What were you doing on Tatooine? How did you find us, and why did you need to see Obi-Wan?”

“Are you really accusing me of something from a hospital bed?” Leia said.

“I don’t know, do I need to?”

Leia crossed her arms. “No,” she said. “I don’t mean any harm to any of you, and it was just coincidence that you were there when I needed you.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Anakin said.

“You don’t have to, they just are.” Were they? whispered something in Leia. Something had brought her to two powerful people, connected to the very man she had been sent to find in her own time. Coincidence, maybe. Or maybe something had brought her there on purpose. “I didn’t have any control over it, anyway,” she amended.

Anakin squinted at her, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Instinctively, she made her mind and her face blank, holding herself still and quiet. Anakin’s frown deepened, and Leia shuddered. “I think there’s a chill in here,” she said. It had been a long time since she had felt this nameless, out-of-place panic. She had hoped she was over such spells, but maybe the frankly unprecedented stresses of the last few days had thrown her off.

“Yeah, a chill,” Anakin said, but he looked a little confused. “Uh, sorry, the...” He lifted his hand and nodded towards the tubes feeding into it. “I think whatever they gave me is making me a little...”

Leia nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, it’s...just stay till Padmé gets here.”

[likeshipsonthesea]

Sensory prompts: 25 or 55? (or both!) For whatever ship moves you.

thank you for the prompt!! from this list if anyone else wants to send some in. i am in such a frogs-post-college kind of mood so i’m gonna go with 55. Finding old photographs you’d forgotten about and it’s not a ship in particular but a dex-centric poly-frogs-friendship with like a hint of nurseydex kind of thing… enjoy

(after-note: this got.. yeah. warning for homophobia)

(also there is stuff in here that’s my hc for dex and his town, so for reference, this ficlet-y thing is my understanding of dex’s life growing up)

“I don’t even know how you fit all this stuff in your room, dude,” Nursey says, carrying yet another box down the stairs. “It’s, like, a clown car kinda situation up there.”

Dex raises an eyebrow at Nursey, vaguely conscious that he could make a crack about how Nursey’s never had to optimize space before, or that not everyone has walk-in closets like he does. Instead, Dex takes the box from Nursey and says nothing, carrying it into the living room where the rest of his things have already been sorted.

Nursey is right about the number of boxes– they must have gone through about twenty of them by now. They’ve developed an efficient if dragging process of opening a box, cataloging its contents, and sorting them into one of several categories. Dex knows that it would likely be going quicker if it wasn’t for Nursey and Chowder pausing over every peewee hockey trophy and aced spelling test to coo and chirp and generally make Dex blush from head to toe.

Still, Dex thinks as he watches Nursey and Chowder return to their spots on the carpet, jostling each other as they fake-fight over who gets the bigger box, Dex is glad they came. He almost didn’t let them, almost didn’t even tell them he was going back to Maine after graduation to get the rest of his things. Mostly for the same reasons that he’d been dreading the trip himself, but since Chowder and Nursey’d arrived, his parents had mostly steered clear of them, for which the guilty gratefulness and painful ache mixed oddly in Dex’s chest.

“Hey P-Doodle.” Dex blinks. Nursey is grinning at him. “Just gonna stand there and watch or what, slacker?”

Dex scoffs, shaking his head, and plops down next to him on the floor. “You’re calling me a slacker? Me? The second place champion of the 2003 Little Harbor Spelling Bee? I don’t think so.”

Nursey laughs, bright, and listening to the sound bounce around the walls of Dex’s childhood home helps to soothe the ache in Dex’s chest.

“How’d you get second place?” Chowder asks, cutting into the next box with the box-cutter Dex gave a very detailed tutorial on prior to beginning their work.

“Got the i’s and e’s mixed up in ‘believe’.” Dex pulls the other box closer to himself. “Rachel Taylor won with ‘everyone.’“

“Well, ‘everyone’ is obvious,” Chowder says, in that wide-eyed way he has where you can’t quite tell if he’s being sarcastic or sincere. “It’s just two smaller words pushed together.”

Dex squints, suspicious, before taking it as honest and saying, “Thanks, C.”

Chowder’s mouth stretches into a smirk, giving his sarcasm away, and Nursey laughs again as Dex loudly complains that it totally wasn’t fair and that’s when Chowder pulls out the stack of photos.

Dex pauses mid-rant to frown at the top photo in the stack, held together by a cracking pink rubber band. It’s him, he knows that much, and he’s probably about eight, maybe older as he was always small for his age, but he can’t remember ever seeing it before.

“Aw,” Chowder coos, tugging off the elastic. “When is this from?” Dex holds his hand out and Chowder passes over the first photo. Young Dex is on the beach, as they were a lot, being so close to the water. He’s wearing a pair of blue swim shorts that used to be his brother’s, so they’re a little big on him, and he’s staring grumpily back at the camera with a hand fisted in the waistband to keep them from falling. There’s sunscreen smeared on his nose and the beginnings of a sunburn on his shoulders.

“Wow, you were grumpy from the start, huh?” Nursey peers over Dex’s shoulder. Dex can see his smile out of the corner of his eye. “Can I?” He reaches out to take the photo and Dex hands it over, exchanging it for a couple more from Chowder.

They seem to be from the same time, probably all from the same reel of film. The next one is once again at the beach, but Jay– Dex’s brother– is next to him, his arm begrudgingly around Dex’s shoulders. The one after that, they’re both in the water, Dex trailing after Jay and his friends as they roughhouse in the water. The last one at the beach is of Dex, again, building a sandcastle with a brown-haired boy who’s only visible in profile.

“Whose that?” Chowder asks, leaning close, and Dex feels suddenly as if there isn’t enough air.

“Peter,” he says, suddenly remembering that summer. He wasn’t 8, he was 9, and he and Peter fell into each other’s space when they got paired off at Dex’s uncle’s sailing “camp.” They spent long days in the same boat, making up jokes no one else understood and diving into the water whenever Dex’s uncle looked away to splash each other until their laughing mouths tasted of nothing but salt.

“Did anyone in your town not have a biblical name?” Nursey says, snorting, as he takes the photos from Dex to shuffle through. Dex huffs something that might be a laugh back, thinking of Peter and then Luke and–

“He looks nice,” Chowder says, charitably, and looks back at the photos in his hand. Dex nods, dully, at that. Yeah, Peter was nice. He was Dex’s best friend all summer, the two of them inseparable in that adult-eye-rolling kind of way, the “look at how quickly children bond, it’s so sweet, so naive” kind of way, and remembering it now has Dex’s mouth flooding with bitterness.

“Is this your first day of school?” Chowder asks, onto the next photo. He hands it over and it’s Dex, in a smart blue polo that was one of his only non-hand-me-downs. He’s grinning at the camera, thumbs hooked under his backpack straps. He’s still tan from the summer, freckles attacking every inch of bare skin. It was taken on the front porch, almost identical to every other first-day-of-school photo Ma took of him from kindergarten to senior year of high school.

“Fifth grade,” Dex says, in answer. He and Peter were, somewhat coincidentally, in the same fifth grade class. The teacher had to separate them two weeks in because they’d giggle together all class long. At recess they would escape to the outskirts of the playground, make up games where they were pirates away at sea or adventurers exploring the deepest caves on Earth. 

After school, they would do homework at each other’s houses, usually Dex’s because Jay was home to watch them. For months the only times they weren’t in each others’ pockets was while they slept, and even then, there were sleepovers when they’d wake up tangled beneath blankets in a shared bed, having stayed up late whispering secrets across the pillows.

“Your birthday!” Nursey reaches across Dex for the photo in Chowder’s hand. “You were ten? Damn you were tiny. The cake is bigger than you are.”

“My uncle went overboard,” Dex says. “Ma freaked about the blue icing. It got everywhere.” Sure enough, the next photo is a grinning Dex with blue smeared all over his mouth. In the background, hovering, is Peter with the same decoration.

Dex remembers what happened after, remembers Peter dragging Dex to the dark, empty backyard to solemnly hand over a present, remembers unwrapping the gift, awkward as Peter’d wrapped it himself and there was too much tape involved, remembers the strange fluttering in his chest when he unveiled the beach-themed dollar-store key chain, the words Best Summer Ever! stretching above a photograph of Dex and Peter with their faces squished so close their grins were distorted.

Dex remembers the fluttery feeling being too much for his small chest to handle, remembers telling Peter thank you, remembers the strange need to tell Peter how pretty he looked in the hazy light of the fading moon. “You’re pretty,” he’d said, remembers distinctly how the words had felt on his tongue, and Peter’s solemn expression curdled, disgusted, and Dex had ruined it, he’d broken, he was broken–

“I have to– I’ll be right back,” Dex says, pushing away the pictures, and Nursey and Chowder pause in their perusal to send him heavy glances but it doesn’t keep him from escaping to the kitchen.

He pours himself a glass of water without paying much attention, muscle-memory even after he hasn’t lived here consistently in four years, and it makes him wonder if moving his things out of this home, moving out of Maine, will really change anything. He is from here, from this house and this town, he was born of the expectations and the assumptions and the need to be silent.

Four years at Samwell and he still came home to the itchy, unfitting hand-me-down of the person his parents want, need, him to be. He’s still quiet, frictionless, unquestioning, when he’s here. Has he really changed when it only takes the confines of his childhood home to undo all of it?

As he shakes under the memory of the weeks following his tenth birthday– the whispers hovering, murky, around his head, the stark emptiness next to him where Peter used to stand, the pervading loneliness of being wrong– he doesn’t notice Nursey and Chowder entering the kitchen until they’re standing in front of him.

“Dex?” Chowder frowns, hovering at the edge of Dex’s space. Nursey breaches it without hesitation, curling a heavy hand around Dex’s shoulder. “What’s– what’s wrong?”

Dex shakes his head, though he doesn’t know if they can tell when his whole body feels like its shaking apart anyway. “I– nothing, I–”

“Dex.”

It’s– it’s firm, and Nursey hardly ever says Dex’s actual name– it’s grounding, the reminder, that he is not Will, he is Dex, Samwell’s Dex. He is the boy who stepped into a kitchen and allowed himself to feel at home there, he is the boy who cared for his friends when they needed and, sometimes, allowed them to care for him, too. He is the boy who learned that the only broken part of him was the chafing of trying to fit himself into something he was not. He was not.

Dex shallows, thick, and nods. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I– memories.”

They could ask, and Dex consciously takes that risk when he explains even the little bit he does. And though Chowder’s eyebrows wrinkle and his lips part, halfway to a question, Nursey stares, unflinching, for maybe two seconds before he nods, resolute.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Nursey asks, and maybe it would’ve sounded patronizing, or pitying, or any number of grating adjectives, if they’d been the people they were their frog year, or even their junior year. But knowing Nursey as Dex does now, knowing the expectations and assumptions and silence that Nursey grew from, it makes it easy, almost, for Dex to nod back.

“Yeah,” he says, repetitive, dizzy. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go check out that ice cream stand,” Chowder suggests, catching up quickly. “You said it’s Harry Potter themed?”

Chowder’s question gets Dex talking, as it was meant to, about the ice cream stand a few streets over. The stand, Dex explains as they walk there, gives a free extra scoop in exchange for a quote from the books or movies. It’s been around all Dex’s life and it was half the reason he read the books on his own before his reading ability had truly reached that level.

At the stand, they all order their treats and recite their quotes, and Dex remembers when he came here as a kid, friends and family typically with him, Peter with him, once or twice, and the memory doesn’t ache the way he’s come to think memories have to.

Dex sits at a picnic table across from Nursey and Chowder as they debate which of the books is the best, the Maine summer sun blistering and familiar, ice cream dripping and sweet, and he feels that odd dissonance of experiencing a forgotten photograph, the memory hazy and the picture stark. The permeating sense of home Dex feels in this moment overlays the hazy memory of disconnection, mingling until the burst of emotion in his chest is melancholic but hopeful.

He smiles, swiping his tongue over his ice cream cone, and allows himself to enjoy it, for now, without question.

[ohthatsviolet]

How about mirage x caustic fanfic??

Here you go, anon! I wasn’t sure if you wanted fluff or something nsfw but I decided since I’ve been writing a lot of smut lately I’d go with something tame. 

Mirage x Caustic 

Mirage was a strange one. Caustic never understood how one person could have such a range of emotions. Mirage was the type to boast about his abilities and achievements in the legend’s lounge but seemed to falter and become more self conscious of his worth when in the ring. Caustic wouldn’t admit it to anyone, and certainly not to Mirage, but he found the man strangely fascinating.

It started of with mere observations. The way, Mirage would saunter into a room and tell tales of his victories, only to become embarrassed when praised by anyone else. The way he’d always slick his hair back before speaking to anyone, only for it to drift back into his eyes moments later. He’d always heed advice from others about healthy eating but, had an intense liking for chocolate. In the quieter moments, he’d whip out his laptop and notebook and begin working on improving his gear. This could go one of three ways; with him drumming his pen on the table out of frustration, him thoughtfully running the pen over his lips when considering a new idea, or with him staring aloofly into the distance for some time, eyes eventually sparkling with inspiration. All typically ended with him furiously typing into his laptop.

All of this had been observed and mentally noted by Caustic. The other legends had teased him about his newfound fascination with Mirage, but they didn’t understand. Everything Caustic did was for his love of science. He would never pay this much attention to someone for his own satisfaction. Personal pleasure was for those of weaker mind. What really caused a stir, was the day Caustic asked Mirage to join to his squad, so he could engage in closer observations. He received a chorus of childish “oooooh's” from those around them, when the younger legend accepted his offer.

They worked reasonably well together for two people who should have clashing personalities. Mirage surprisingly had an apt understanding of weaponry and would always take the time to modify Caustic’s weapons for him. In return, the chemist was forced into a pinky promise that he would stop grumbling at Mirage’s jokes. It was only after this, that Caustic realised his jokes weren’t so terrible and he was actually quite witty. He could remember multiple occasions where he was thankful his gas mask muffled his laughter.

Caustic missed the jokes when they stopped. Mirage had been more quiet and distant lately. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the other man was purposely avoiding him. He was sure there must be some scientific explanation for why the absence of Mirage’s constant nattering was making it difficult for him to concentrate in the games. It seemed the less the trickster spoke, the more Caustic was invaded by thoughts of him. It wasn’t like him to focus on anything but his experiments. Maybe he was sick. Perhaps it was time for a trip to the medical wing.

The trapper sighed thoughtfully to himself, as crouched inside one of the buildings in Skull Town, trying to scrape together as much energy ammo as possible. This wouldn’t have been his first choice to drop, but Mirage didn’t have a preference this round and Caustic wasn’t in the mood to argue with their third squadmate when they insisted on coming here. Of course, they had run guns blazing into the heart of the fighting and got themselves killed, and he hadn’t seen or heard anything from Mirage since they landed. It remained this way for a while, until Caustic heard a series of swears and colourful phrasing come through his communication device.

“F-fuck, s-shit…dammit”, Mirage stammered breathlessly, as he stumbled into Caustic’s building, slamming the door behind him. Without thinking, the scientist immediately hopped to his feet and rushed to the other. Mirage was holding his side, which was bleeding profusely, his suit rapidly being stained red. “What happened?”, Caustic asked, as he watched the holographic trickster, slump against the wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the floor. “S-sniper”, he answered. “Don’t worry, the shot sounded far”. Caustic nodded at this and reached into his backpack, producing a medkit, which he left next to the other man.

Mirage let the back of his head rest against the wall, still clutching his side and attempting to breath through the pain. Caustic noticed he was not making any attempt to heal himself, and decided to speak up. The look of sheer agony on Mirage’s face was making him feel…strange. He cleared his throat and gestured to the medical kit, “Are you going to use that?”. Mirage groaned in pain when he tried to move. “I…I will. Just…gimme a second”.

Caustic dropped to his knees and took the med kit in his hands, trying to think of the best way to proceed. “I…um…Allow me”. He placed the med kit to one side, so he could use his hands to undo the other’s tactical belt, getting it out of the way so he could pull the top half of Mirage’s suit up, exposing his wound. “Heh, you could at least buy me dinner first”, Mirage quipped, before immediately cringing at what he just said. Caustic paid no attention to the remark, his full focus on the toned abdomen exposed to him. Luckily for him, Mirage didn’t seem to notice his staring. He was too busy trying to not make eye contact. He could feel his face beginning to flush.

Caustic was eventually able to bring himself back to reality and began administering the med kit, occasionally checking Mirage’s face for any signs of discomfort. It was only then, he noticed the other looking away, biting his lip and appearing more red in the face by the second. Caustic’s thoughts began to be plagued by possibilities, until his sensible side got the better of him; “You are in the desert. His reaction has nothing to do with you or what you are doing. It is the desert. Of course he’s hot…or um…above desirable temperature”.  

Caustic wiped his hands on his lab apron when he was done. “T-thanks for…that”, Mirage spoke, as he began dressing himself. “I uh…honestly thought you’d be the last person to give a damn about me. A-about me, y’know, being s-shot that is”. The trapper was caught off guard by the statement. “I do care…I uhh…that is, I care about winning”, he fumbled over his words. “I know that you are my teammate and keeping you at…optimal functioning is beneficial to my own success”. Mirage toyed with the cuff of his sleeve awkwardly. “Y-yeah. Me too”.

The sound of footsteps outside came as a relief to them both. Anything was better than this situation they’d found themselves in. “That’s probably whoever shot me”, Mirage said, lowering his voice. He swore softly when he tried to stand up, his wound still in the process of healing. Caustic beckoned for him to sit back down, as be began to rig the room with gas traps. “Stay here, I will deal with them”, he ordered.

Mirage backed himself into a corner, and began taking slow deep breaths before inhaling deeply and holding it. Although people on Caustic’s team were offered nose filters to help them combat the gas, Mirage knew from experience they weren’t worth a damn, and being trapped in a room rigged by Caustic was never fun, whether you were on his team or not. Caustic observed him for a moment before realising what he was trying do. He mumbled something to himself before undoing the clasp of his gas mask and securing it around Mirage’s face before he could protest. Mirage was momentarily stunned by this, but managed to call after Caustic as he began to leave the room, “Hey w-wait! Don’t you need this?”. “I will be fine”. “Well…at least take this”. Caustic turned to see Mirage tearing his scarf from around his neck before tossing it at him.

Caustic couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the gesture, knowing the thin fabric wouldn’t do much against his gas traps. He decided to humour the younger legend regardless, giving him a curt nod as he wrapped the scarf around his face. Caustic’s cheeks began to burn as he left the room, the smell of Mirage’s cologne clouding his senses. He was definitely coming down with something. Undoubtedly, a trip to the medical wing was urgently needed.

[viostormcaller]

Ego Headcanons: Jackieboy Man

I meant to do this yesterday night but I had schoolwork and then I had a headache and was burnt out, so whoops! But I'm doing it now! Just like the others it's probably gonna be long so ya know. Here goes:

Jackie has adored superheroes since he was little. The superhero persona he is seen as is actually just a silly character he made up when he was younger, but he kept the name because of the sentimental value behind it. It took the city a long time to take him seriously, and even then not everyone does

Jackieboy Man is transgender! He was born female, and over time saved up to get top surgery. He wasn't able to get bottom surgery because he had to start focusing his money into upgrades for his suit and equipment, which he figured was much more important

This is also the reason why his hero name is Jackieboy Man. When he created the character as a kid he was adamant about being seen as a boy. The name meant a lot to him, so he refused to change it when he became a superhero

Jackie's real name actually is Jackie -- it was the name he was born with. Because he sees it as a gender-neutral name, he didn't feel the need to change it after his transition

Jackie went to a fancy prep school in high school. It was around then that he got his powers. He still doesn't know how it happened. He had been trying to get his phone that slid underneath a parked car, and for whatever reason his brain told him to lift it. He did, and found the car weighed virtually nothing. He almost dropped it on himself in surprise.

He became a student by day, crime fighter by night. This made his studies difficult, but he managed through it. Once he graduated, he got a job at a comic book store and used any extra money he had to try and design a suit for himself. For the time being he wore a red hoodie fitted with shoulder and chest pads, he wore kneepads over a pair of leggings, and he wore gloves and boots as well as his signature mask.

Jackie is insanely intelligent. Like, insanely. He's an absolute master at puzzle solving and is extremely well versed in technology. He invents things often and is an impressive coder.

Once he saved up enough to make his first armored suit, he started taking on more difficult enemies rather than just fighting robbers and criminals. However, because the police saw him regularly turning in these people, they grew to trust Jackie and eventually partnered up with him. He began earning money through the city and was able to quit his day job before long

On the side, while Jackie was hunting down the supervillains that lived in the area, he was also on a secret mission to hunt down people on the Deep Web. He was forced to give up the case after he had been kidnapped, his captors not quite realizing who they were dealing with

He met Marvin when a powerful villain attacked a theater. At the time, this villain's skills were about on par with Jackie's, so taking them down prover to be tough. When Marvin revealed he knew real magic, they teamed up to take the villain out

Jackie, figuring a partner was just what he needed, offered to meet up with Marvin that next weekend to get to know him better. Marvin accepted and they went out for pizza and talked everything over

After a while of teaming up and growing close, the pair moved in together.

They may not be brothers or related by blood in any sense of the word, but they might as well have been. They were rarely seen without each other. They never fought, and their interests overlapped so they always had something to talk about

They made it a habit of theirs to always cook something for every meal. Marvin was an exceptional cook, while Jackie was still learning. Marvin taught him some things that he knew, and on mornings and at night they both cooked together. Every meal was home cooked, no matter how simple it was

They were both usually home during the day; since they both earned money from the city, they didn't have any obligations. They both dedicated this time to research and studying, and they would spar occasionally

Jackie and Marvin both suffer from gender dysphoria. On a day that it was particularly bad, Jackie revealed to Marvin that he was transgender. After Marvin revealed he was genderfluid and he understood where Jackie was coming from, Marvin offered to use transformation magic to finish off Jackie's transition. Jackie agreed, and while he swore he had never been in so much pain in his entirel life, he still feels eternally indebted to Marvin because he did that for him.

They met Schneep on a night Jackie was gravely injured. The three felt a connection between each other and stayed in touch after Jackie and Marvin both recovered, and refused to see any other doctor after a while. They moved in with him once Schneep bought a house.

Jackie, like Schneep, is also pansexual. Unlike Schneep, however, he hasn't been in many relationships because he was too afraid he'll put his future partner in danger by being in a relationship with him. Moreover, he's constantly busy doing hero-related stuff, so he doubted he would have the time.

Schneep once made Jackie a picture of him in a comic-book style. Jackie had it framed and hung it up in his room, right over his bed. When Schneep found out Jackie did that, he teared up

Jackie is up the earliest out of all the Egos. He spends the mornings doing research, and then cooks with Marvin once he gets up. He goes on patrols at night

Jackie's powers include super strength, super speed, the power of flight, the ability to envelop his fists in green flames, and a sonic clap (which he only uses if he absolutely must; it's extremely dangerous and destructive). He excels in melee combat which compliments Marvin's ranged combat

When Jackie's using his powers, his eyes will glow a bright green, and if he's under a lot of strain his veins will glow faintly green as well. When this happens he knows he's reaching a limit

Jackie is the most optimistic. He's also the most silly (with Chase coming in close second). Chase and Jackie share a lot of jokes together, which is how they grew closer. Jackie often uses his optimism to cheer Chase up when he's feeling low.

Jackie can actually be one of the most serious Egos when he needs to be (though Schneep will always hold first place on that front). He knows when to joke and when to be focused, and is often seen as the leader of the household because of his commanding presence when he's serious

Jackie and Jameson often work out together. Jameson is almost as physically fit as Jackie is, because in his time he did all his own stunts. He may not do them anymore, but he didn't want to stop exercising regularly, and knowing Jackie often worked out he went to him for advice on keeping a good regimen.

During the day, when he's not researching, Jackie is more often than not checking in on Schneep and making sure he's doing alright. He feels the need to he Schneep's protector, just as Marvin does with Chase. Especially after his kidnapping, Jackie wants to keep Schneep safe. He's usually there to ground him during flashbacks and panic attacks. The two are rather close and spend quite a bit of time with each other talking about work or venting general frustrations. Jackie's optimism and general bubbliness counteracts Schneep's serious attitude, and while Schneep reminds Jackie when to be serious, Jackie reminds Schneep when to loosen up.

Jackie loves movies, but sadly doesn't have a whole lot of time to watch them. He also adores retro video games, but agrees the modern ones are super cool, too. His favorite game is easily guessed.

Jackie's favorite superhero, like Jack's, is Spiderman. He sees a lot of himself in Spiderman, and on the days he doesn't go on patrols or research he's often seen playing the most recent Spiderman game on the PS4. He wants to 100% complete it.

Jackie doesn't rely on coffee as nearly as much as Schneep does, but he does drink a cup to help wake himself up in the mornings. He drinks his with a bit of cream, that's it.

Jackie can easily lift the others. Sometimes he'll sneak up on someone and lift them up, carrying them in his arms and spinning them around while laughing.

Jackie is a HUGE cuddler, and has a very tight hold. He's also a heavy sleeper, so if he falls asleep, good luck getting back up! He's always the big spoon

Most of his research is dedicated to tracking down Antisepticeye. He has Marvin help with this, since Marvin has more knowledge on demons than he does. However, Schneep, Chase, and Jameson also all have had direct contact with Antisepticeye and offer up any information they gathered. They all work together as a team to gather knowledge and keep track of common traits, symptoms, and telltale signs that Anti is active. Jackie also relies on the community and Jack's channel for information, since the community finds things first. This information is given through Chase. Jameson has only been in contact with Anti once, but his knowledge that he gained in his experience is also helpful to Jackie and isn't overlooked.

Jackie doesn't get sick often, but when he does he gets hit hard. Schneep is the one who takes care of everyone when they get sick, so every time Jackie comes down with something he gets all sappy and thanks Schneep for being a doctor and helping them. When he's sick, he's an emotional mess, but he does mean everything he says.

Jackie never makes a promise he can't keep, but he also never breaks his promises either. He's probably the most dependable out of everyone

I think that's everything for Jackie! The headache hasn't gone away so if I felt I missed something I'll probably add it in a seperate post. Same with any of the Egos, actually. If I need to add something I'll just make a continuation post and add it there. In any case, there's one more Ego to go! After that I'll clean out my inbox, though because I'm currently feeling shitty and moody I may not open prompts for a little bit, like a few days or so. But yeah, that's Jackie's list done!

[quietdaysco]

The Process: Research

Ever wanted to make something, but didn’t know where to start? We too. In this second installment of The Process, we’ve finished forming our idea and now it’s time to inform it. 

2. Research 

Mind you, this isn’t a “step two” per se. Here’s the big kicker on what we soon discovered about this part of development:

Research is an active, ongoing process, whose goals change throughout pre- to post-production.

We may have created the idea of Primrose Path but our research didn’t stop at the end of pre-production, as if to say we’ve got everything we need and now it’s time to dive into making it. During production, we still had questions. Research is the only reason that, if you stopped us on the side of the street, the topics of future biomaterials and methods, dynamic UI design, and historic architectural eras could all pop up in the same conversation.  

And all of that is valuable information to us, because researching is relevant in every area of the process! But what kind of information did we look for? 

Our five categories are Community Canvassing, Story & Character Development, Team Management, Game Design, and Marketing. 

Let’s break it down:

A. Community Canvassing

Identifying and learning our target audience.

Identify personal wants from our game.

We have to stop and think: what kind of game do we want to play? If you want something, chances are, there’s a group of people out there who want the same thing. They are our audience.

Identify the type of media and genres relevant to our game.

Our video game is a visual novel, and its market genres are predominantly adult, drama, and romance. Because the medium of visual novels originated and is popular in Japan, we use the term otome (Japanese for “maiden” or “girl”) or otoge (portmanteau of “otome” and “game”) in our genre list. So, our game is an adult, drama, romance, otome—or focused on a female main character who deals with a cast of potential male partners.

Case any census data and statistics on target and related communities’ research blogs.

This one was important to us because we like considering quantifiable data that gives us the bigger picture. Statistics blogs and databases helped us get a clearer view of different demographic subsets of the visual novel community. It’s also important that we read material about sister media like the general interactive fiction community, as both deal with reader input and resultant story-branching.

Inquire fans in those genres for game recommendations and any opinions.

Community hubs are a click away. We connected with others via forums like Reddit and instant messenger servers like Discord that specifically revolve around fans and game developers of the visual novel medium.

Read game reviews in those genres by other fans and critics.

The most interesting thing for us when we read these reviews is not so much what someone did or didn’t like, but what aspects of the game they focused on, and what other topics they decided to connect to their original answer. You may be surprised how people decide to expand on their answer and where tangents lead, which is very telling, valuable associations.

Connect with other developers for support and networking.

The Western visual novel community is a small community, but commercial success is not confined to said community. Building a rapport with other hardworking devs is important, as it follows us in such a small space—for better or worse. There’s a lot to learn from the wider indie development community, too.

B. Story & Character Development

Creating an organic experience.

Real-world parallels to inspire for or reference in game direction.

Whether we take a trip to the city with a camera and sketchbook, rent and buy books from libraries and bookstores, or visit Google Maps in satellite view, we are pulling up everything we need to inform our game’s locations, people, and events.

Observe and converse with people.

The behaviors, quirks, appearances, opinions, and feelings of people are abundant, and it’s not until we observe and sometimes familiarize ourselves with others that we catch some of the concerted expressions that create a nuanced individual. 

Interacting with others is first-hand experience, and listening to or reading others’ experiences is second-hand. If we can't write from first or second-hand experience, we must inform ourselves with other sources, as it’s crucial in writing characters with whom we may not directly or easily identify. We often defer to interviews and documentaries to start.

Psychology and sociology research.

Sometimes reading from experts about general trends and triggers of the human condition makes it easier for us to understand, verify, and better portray things like addictions, behavioral disorders and mental illnesses, fetishes, and cultural stigmas for our character development and world-building. Though this isn’t limited to negative or abnormal things we cannot identify. It can also be in what ways the values of a person or society evolve, or how players interact with video game avatars!

Read and deconstruct critically-acclaimed novels in our genres

It’s understood that if people want to become better writers, they have to become better readers. Being able to settle down with some traditionally-published, well-received books relevant to our interests will help us build on our knowledge of suitable writing conventions, as well as analyzing broader narrative elements, like plot pacing. We even have a list of writing resources saved to help us break it all down!

C. Team Management

Standardizing ways to increase workflow efficiency.

Pipeline development.

Know a general end-date to keep in mind for the finished product. Setting a scope for our project and a timeline for production challenges us to keep on task as we work towards that date. We’ve set ours up by month and refer to that document for phase estimation.

Time management, task delegation, task tracking, and work logs.

Whether your team is me, myself, and I, or made of employees and contractors, it’s important to stay synchronized and keep record of that progress. Quiet Days has our own GitScrum board to help us with assigning tasks, timing how long a task takes us versus the amount of time we expected it to take, and streamlining the process from start to finish. It also keeps track of percentage of overall project completion and key performance indicators (KIP), or the metrics of a user’s personal contribution and work ethic over a period of time. There are a plethora of other task management sites and apps available to use too.

Style guides to standardize writing and art.

Between the two of us at Quiet Days, we both work on the 2D art and writing, and we both default to different visual and writing styles. So, we’ve set up and continue to add to our respective guides, keeping the art style and narration and character portrayals consistent. This is especially helpful should we take up other artists or writers, so that they can easily assimilate into our workflow. 

Account delegation for social media and company correspondence.

Understanding who does what for cohesion under a company brand is important for its image. We share all accounts under the company name, so technically both of us have access, which works well for our team of two. It’s early, but so far “delegation” seems to have taken on a natural division between Coda and Elm—the former taking to micro-blogging, and the latter to streaming and forum correspondence. While this dynamic may change in the future, we both refer back to each other under the Quiet Days brand.

Potential for contracting help.

We’ve considered that there may be a time in production where a helping hand is needed. Additional considerations like the freelancing market and pricing are kept in mind for the future. 

D. Game design 

Scrutinizing game elements from a developer’s lens.

Consider for which platform to design.

PC? Mobile? Console? Cross-platform? While we are primarily designing our game to be played on PC, should we want to capitalize on popular handheld consoles like the Nintendo Switch, for example, things like game engines and builds, game optimization, resolution, encryption, touch capabilities, and content guidelines for their private company platform all need to be considered. These things change between platforms.

Consider designing globally.

There are people different from us who would like to enjoy our game too. We consider the user experience (UX) for things like the possibility of game translations and using fonts types that read well for different language characters like Chinese or Russian. We also consider how to customize the experience to accommodate for players with different cognitive abilities, which falls under accessibility features.

Play what’s commercially un/successful and community-recommended.

We can learn a lot from both good and bad game design, and what the community mostly consumes. We engage with these games and take notes on graphics, accessibility features, user interface (UI) designs, game mechanics, soundtracks, and overall presentation and aesthetic. What did we like and what would we have preferred?

Stay updated on game design development tips from industry heads

There are people who have been doing it much longer than we have, and a number of them are setting industry standards. We can learn a thing or two in how they handle a problem and find solutions.

E. Marketing 

Methods for optimizing outreach and return of investment.

Social media strategies for engaging and involving our audience.

We’ve laid the groundwork for character accounts on social media to launch as a way for our audience to interact with characters from our game. While role-playing is a fun marketing and meta world-building device, we’re exploring other cool avenues like exploitable images and audience challenges to drum up future participation. 

Types of advertising and promotional materials.

There may come a time when word-of-mouth may not be enough. Would we consider purchasing ad space on different sites for greater visibility, or spend money on “promoting” features on social media? Would we commission or create and sell promotional merchandising for our audience?

Crowdfunding platforms and prospects.

Popular ones like Patreon, Kickstarter, and Indiegogo all have their draws and their drawbacks for creators and supporters alike. For what expenses would we crowdfund? What additional rewards would we provide for the financial support, if any? Do we want financial support for our project, or continual financial support as a company creating content? Some developers don’t actually use these platforms to request funding, but as another way of advertising their game. Would we do that?

Cross-exposure with other devs.

Interviews, public events, and collaborations with other game developers is a win-win situation with everyone involved. We want to be able to not just network, but allow each other to introduce our products and skills to a greater audience, creating and sharing a unique, dedicated fanbase in the overlap.

The Takeaway

At the time of this post, we’re still in the production phase, so some of this information isn’t applicable right now, but no knowledge is wasted: these things will always be handy to know and consider for later. We’re making our decisions in lieu of—and even despite some of—our research, in order to create a game that we’ll love and hope others will too. It’s important that as a game developer, you too keep yourself informed!

Speaking of ongoing research, Western otome is a largely indie market with many small, tenacious teams and hardly any corporate studios. If you are a Western otome developer, please contact us! We’d love to interview you in a Q&A, get your input on your process, and feature your story on our blog! 

[welllpthisishappening]

Hi! It’s the Nova anon! I just wanted to say thanks because the blue line series always makes me feel better when I re-read it. Today my roommate that I’ve lived with since freshman year told me she doesn’t want to live together next year so I was really upset and decided to read the PyeongChang Triple again and it made me really happy. Thanks so much for all of your writing! It’s the best!!

Oh hai Nova ‘non. I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad there was something there to help. Roommates can always be a kind of hit or miss, but I’ve got no doubt you’ll find someone who isn’t only a top notch person, but also has very strong opinions on Jay Wright’s suits and the strength of the Big East as a whole. In the meantime, here’s some hockey fluff for you because it’s the Dad’s Trip for the Rangers this weekend and we should all have feelings:

“He’s trying to organize my locker.”

“He’s having a good time!”

“Nuh uh, I genuinely think he’s losing his mind. He came into the locker room and started examining my stick tape.”

“Well, I mean, you’ve got a ton of stick tape,” Emma pointed out, but that was only met with another groan and the single most ridiculous eye roll she’d ever seen in her life. “This is a good thing.”

“He’s taking this way too seriously,” Killian argued. “This is not the first time Mr. V has been on this trip.”

“It is the first time he’s responsible for two of you, though.”

Killian gritted his teeth, the objection almost obvious on the tip of his tongue from the visitor’s locker room in Florida. He didn’t actually say anything though and Emma shouldn’t have taken some kind of twisted victory in that, but the whole thing was absurdly sentimental and decidedly familial and—

“Ah, that’s true,” Killian sighed. “Although now I seem like kind of a jerk.”

“Nah, you seem like someone who’s questionably worried about his stick tape.”

“It’s an exact science, Swan.”

Emma hummed, eyes flitting towards the half door at the other end of the hall and the two year old who better still be taking a mid-afternoon nap if they were going to last an entire night at the restaurant without any sort of meltdown. “Still asleep,” she mumbled. “Do you think you get, like, super Dad power now? With Mr. V there and your own kid here—what would you call it? Dad squared?”

“That may be a less exact science, honestly.”

“It sounds more impressive than anything to do with stick tape.”

Killian clicked his tongue, fingers finding the back of his hair when he leaned forward slightly. “Lucas said there were half a dozen want to be stories.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. It’s a good story.”

“They should lead with the stick tape part.”

“You’re being difficult on purpose,” Emma accused, mostly so she could work a smile out of him and that was probably a less twisted type of victory. Killian shook his head.

“I’m not. I just—“

“—Scarlet probably wouldn’t want the press.”

“Exactly that.”

And, really, Emma understood – on both fronts, because it was an incredible story and an emotional story, but the last few weeks had been decidedly depressing and Will kept hitting people a little harder than normal, like the loss of everything was only manageable when he was pushing another human being into the boards.

Will had promised he was fine, sworn up and down several different metaphorical posts and, maybe, the actual goal post, just because he could and, possibly, because Ariel kept trying to stage interventions in the hallway of the Garden, but he was an exceptionally bad liar. It was honestly starting to get insulting.

He’d only missed one game – for the wake and the funeral and Will told them not to come. “You guys are on an eight-game point streak,” he’d said. “Don’t fuck that up for me.”

They won the game.

And Emma almost trusted the smile on Will’s face when he got back.

Or she thought she had until, a few days before when Belle had tugged Killian into the corner of the restaurant and there was some murmuring and questions and rocking back and forth on their feet. And Mr. Vankald had agreed enthusiastically – one dad for two hockey kids with slightly depressing backstories and far too many stick tape superstitions.

It was an exceptionally good story.

“Ruby won’t let that see the light of day,” Emma promised. “She can get requests from here to San Jose. It won’t make a difference.”

Killian’s eyebrows jumped. “Was that the farthest city you could think of?”

“Be impressed by my geographic knowledge.”

“Be impressed by stick taping technique.”

She laughed, doing her best to keep the sound as quiet as she could because she really was not trying to deviate from the nap schedule. “Where are they even? Don’t you guys have stuff to do?”

“Probably practicing slap shots somewhere.”

“Ah, is that a note of kid-type jealousy I hear, Cap?”

“Nah,” Killian shook his head, but Emma could hear that lie too. She pursed her lips. “I mean, maybe. No. God, no, actually. Because then I sound like a jerk and this is nice. I just—“

“—Want your stick tape left in the right order?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but there were footsteps coming and Emma had to bite back another laugh when Killian sat up a bit straighter. “You look like you’re about to get grounded,” she mumbled, digging her teeth into her lower lip when he glared at her.

“Not grounded,” Mr. Vankald promised as he moved into the frame. He was wearing head-to-toe blue and a Rangers hat, but there was a ‘C’ on his t-shirt and the tips of Killian’s ears had gone red. “Maybe reprimanded a little. And wondering if he was ever going to come out on the ice.”

Killian blinked. “You guys were on the ice?”

“And waiting for you, Cap,” Will said. He waved at the camera when Killian turned slightly. “Hey, Em. Did he call to say hi to you or just to see if Dr. J was awake?”

“If that kid wakes up in the next forty-five minutes I’m going to walk to Florida and punch all of you in the face. I mean, not you, Mr. V, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, the hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth. “Very strict nap schedule, huh?”

“He wants to watch the game.”

“Ah, I can’t even make fun of that,” Will groaned, dropping next to Killian.

Emma made a face. “Stop the presses.”

“You’re hysterical.”

“You were making horrible jokes.”

Will shrugged, gritting his teeth when Killian elbowed him in the side and mumbled something that sounded like move, God under his breath. He didn’t move. “Something about a defense mechanism or something.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma said. She kind of wished she was in Florida. For several different reasons, but partially because she knew Killian had called partially on the off chance that they weren’t following the nap schedule and partially because Will Scarlet wasn’t very good at pretending he was ok.

Mr. Vankald clapped him on the shoulder. And smiled at Emma.

“Why’d you guys come back in here?” Killian asked, working another sound out of Will.

“Cap, are you kidding me? They’re doing some kind of skills thing for the internet and, oh shit, did you come up with that, Em?”

She was going to bite her lip in half. Or possibly just melt under Killian’s gaze. He stared at her with something that felt like disbelief and, maybe, wishing she were in Florida too.

“Swan?”

“Aw c’mon, it’s not a big deal,” she mumbled. “And, yeah, I did. I—well, Rubes and I were talking about promo and they’ve got cooperate sponsors for this now, which is insane and—“

“—Focus, Em,” Will chuckled.

“Shut up. Anyway. They’ve got sponsors and that means more content and a video of you guys teaming up with your dads and trying to score against other guys…well, it made sense. Imagine those clicks.”

“Those clicks,” Killian repeated, and the look got stronger or more something and they all froze when a noise came from the other end of the hall.

“A ridiculous number of clicks. And good internet vibes.”

“Can I make fun of that?” Will asked, Killian already nodding in agreement.

“Shut up,” Emma repeated.

He saluted. And Mr. Vankald started to laugh – quiet at first, with one hand still on Will’s shoulder and only half of him in the camera frame and Emma wasn’t sure where to look, but her eyes kept flitting back to Killian and his slightly red ears and—

“Well, this means I win by default, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I’ve got two kids. One with an incredible wrister and the other with stick-handling skills unparalleled by anyone else in the league.”

“He read that off the team website,” Killian muttered.

“It doesn’t make it any less true. We’re absolutely going to win. Locksley and his dad will be distraught.”

“That’s definitely the spirit, Mr. V,” Will grinned, glancing up with something that felt like almost genuine emotion on his face. Emma looked back at Killian.

He winked.

“Must be a family trait.”

“Something like that,” Emma agreed. “I think that means you guys are guaranteeing goals later. Or at least points. An assist to set up each other? That’s poetic, right?”

“There is no poetry in hockey, Em,” Will argued.

“Isn’t there though? Something about stick handling.”

“Gross. Stop flirting with your husband for two seconds.”

“Was that flirting?”

“I thought it was flirting,” Killian cut in, a flash of a smirk and the tip of his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth. Mr. Vankald laughed again. “Not our best maybe, but everyone goes through these little ups and downs.”

Will gagged, but then there were more footsteps and Robin shouting get on the ice and a stick, somehow, involved and the whole lot of them were overgrown children with their own children and far too competitive fathers. “Can we go?” Robin asked, nodding back towards the door. “Lucas is screaming about plans and posting times for optimal traffic.”

“She has no idea what she’s talking about,” Emma muttered.

“I’m going to tell her that.”

“You missed my face punching threat, but I’m including you in that too.”

“I’m sure you think that makes sense.”

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Vankald said, waving his hands through the air and Emma didn’t think she imagined the way they all rolled their shoulders back. “Let’s not torture Ruby on purpose. And, really, I think it’s about time we all showed off our skills, don’t you think?”

Emma met Killian’s smile with one of her own.

“Yeah,” Will said quickly, jumping up with an enthusiasm that belied everything that had happened in the last few weeks. “Let’s go shoot at some things. We’re going to totally wreck you, Locksley.”

Robin tilted his head. “That so?”

“You heard him,” Killian nodded. “Totally wrecked. Don’t you think, Swan?”

She winked. Or tried. It got Killian to laugh again. “Best stick handling in the game.”

And the videos did get a ridiculous number of hits across several different social media platforms – trash talk and technique and a perfectly wrapped stick and Emma got her goal and her assist later that night.

[theresnoturningback]

Gone Fishin’ [PART TWO]

A/N:

I am deeply sorry this took so long and if there’s a mispelled word or any grammar error, I’m sorry for that too :/ I want to thank you for all the beautiful comments and tags, I read all of them and I love you guys. Writing is actually a big deal for me, especially now. It’s almost therapeutical.

So, having that in mind, keep your comments coming, any kind of feedback is very much appreciated. PS: This is pretty much what happens when you highkey ship Louisentine/Clouis but absolutely adore Aasim and lowkey want to write for him 24/7.

Word Count: 2427

Part II

Clementine opened her eyes slowly, her face was warm in a very uncomfortable way. Could it be a fever? She rolled to her left side and squinted at the sunshine.

Although the window was mostly boarded, one or two rays would be  sneaky enough to shine right on her face.

She groaned. Why must the sun shine so bright at this time of the day?

A sudden realization ended up waking her up completely. The sun was almost on its highest point, meaning she was awfully late for breakfast.

She panicked and jolted up, grabbed her hat from the desk and ran towards the benches as fast as she could.

    Of course, breakfast time had ended hours ago, everyone was doing their respective jobs. Disappointed, Clementine turned around with the intention of heading back to the dorm, only to find Brody in front of her.

‘Morning, Clem’ She said with surprise in her voice ‘I was actually looking for you. AJ told me you weren’t feeling well, and that’s why you skipped breakfast’

‘I...yeah’ Clementine scratched her head apologetically ‘I wasn’t feeling very well this morning, I even thought I could have a fever…’ She made a mental note to thank AJ for covering her.

‘Do you?’

‘No, no...I’m okay. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be up’

‘Listen, Clem’ Brody sighed ‘I understand you might still have pain from the car crash. I didn’t even think you would make it, to be honest. You are one tough girl, you pulled through, I’ll give you that’

‘...but?’

‘But, if you’re really in optimal conditions to fight or hunt, you must start helping us out...retribute, you know? We all care for each other here’ Brody changed her light tone for a more stern one ‘We may still be kids, but this is not a game we are playing, understood?’

Clementine wanted to spit out some snarky comeback, but she understood where all of Brody’s concern was coming from. She would be just as worried if she had such a responsibility on her shoulders. She chose not to cause a commotion.

‘It won’t happen again, I promise’ She answered, obediently.

‘Good’ Brody exhaled deeply, as if she was holding her breath the entire time ‘Since you missed your lookout shift, we had to rearrange everything. You have the morning free. Ruby is filling in for you, and today everyone is cleaning up, resetting traps and killing stray walkers in the school surroundings. It’s a group effort, and a hard work, but they’ll be done before the sun sets’

‘Shouldn’t I go and help, too?’ Clementine asked, Brody shook her head

‘They got it covered. You should take the day, actually, to recover from whatever is hurting right now. I can feel you’re a little distraught’  Clementine was surprised, she was hoping it didn’t show. She wasn’t generally that transparent

‘Thanks, Brody’ She smiled ‘ I’ll be OK for my duties tomorrow’

‘Which reminds me’ Brody said before Clementine turned around to leave ‘Tomorrow morning you’re fishing with me, if the traps are all reset. Be punctual and be prepared’

Clementine nodded understandingly.

‘I’ll be there’ She said before heading back to the dorm. Her routine demanded her to go check on AJ  as soon as she was up, but this time she let him had his fun watching from the tower with Tenn, providing backup for the group that was already working.

Liked or not, she had other things occupying her head at the moment. Minutes passed slower than usual, she used most of her free time pacing around the school, looking at the floor,  preoccupied she might have upset Louis by not showing on time.

‘Well, you’ve screwed up big time, Clementine’ She muttered to herself, as she used to do when she knew she was alone.

She looked up and realized she had somehow wandered into one special room. She looked at the piano, and could feel it stare back at her. She sighed and walked in timidly.

The decaying wooden flooring squeaked with each of Clementine’s approaching steps. She walked around taking in the soothing sun rays that shone gently down at her, very different from the ones that woke her up before. Soon, every heavy thought in her head vanished, and she felt calm, like she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Maybe that was the reason Louis liked that place so much. Maybe that was why he was so laid back and would come up as care-free to everyone else. Of course, she was just assuming, but considered it would be a nice conversation topic for later, if she ever had a second chance.

She glanced at the piano again, reminiscing  the first time she listened to its off-tune keys being played, and how happy and relieved she felt when she saw  AJ alive and well.

And, of course, there was the moment she and Louis exchanged words for the first time.

She kept walking, silently noticing all the old bookshelves surrounding her. She perused some of them for a while, until a stack of books piled up under a desk caught her attention. She sat under the desk and took the book on top. They all looked oddly familiar. She read for a couple of minutes and soon realized those were Aasim’s chronicles.The first book she opened looked like a very personal journal. She then took out the book that was sitting at the bottom of the pile.

There was no title, no name. The first paragraph of the whole book was written  in a rather agitated penmanship.

Clementine was surprised that he’d keep track of the main events since the outbreak.

‘Rosie? Is it you?...Who’s there? Come out!’ Aasim’s voice called her out from the door.

Clementine quickly put every book back where it was and came out of the desk with her hands up

‘It’s just me’

‘What are you doing?’ He questioned her with a serious tone ‘Get out of there’

‘I didn’t mean to intrude, Aasim, I’m sorry’ She walked away from the desk and closer to him. He was clearly upset, but decided not to talk, so she continued ‘I think it’s admirable...what you’re doing’

‘Admirable?’ the boy’s looked at her in disbelief.

‘To keep track of what happens everyday so consistently, how much you have, how much you lose, what you see everyday out there while hunting...I don’t think anyone could just do that. You’re very talented’

As she explained herself, Aasim’s expression softened. He wasn’t used to people complimenting his writing. He actually wasn’t used to people reading his writing in the first place.

‘Well, someone’s oughta do it’ He answered with a faint smile to thank her for her kind words ‘Just...don’t tell anybody where I keep them. I’m not used to people sneaking in to read what I write’

‘I promise, I won’t tell’ She smiled back.

‘Thanks’

‘Can I come some other time and read?’

Aasim thought about it for a moment before answering

‘Sure, what the hell…’ Clementine’s smile widened ‘Anyway, food should be ready by now. I was sent to tell everyone who didn’t know yet’

‘What about the group outside?’ Her words escaped her mouth with a certain urgency. She cleared her voice ‘ I mean...are we not going to wait for them?’

Aasim chuckled, amused.

‘I was out with them, Clem. We’re all here’ He said ‘You, Tenn and AJ are the only ones missing,  I believe’

‘Oh’ Her face went red with evident embarrassment ‘Then I’ll go get them’

‘No need, Willy and Mitch went for them. They should be already waiting for us’

They walked towards the benches in silence for the most part of the way and joined their friends, sitting together in a corner of one of the tables.

Clementine silently scouted the place with her eyes, trying to look casual as she finally found Louis at the end of the opposite side of the table, next to Marlon, his face was fixed on his plate, but he wouldn’t eat a bite. She understood immediately what the reason of his unusual behavior was and suddenly lost all appetite as well.

‘So, Clem…’ Aasim nodged her teasingly ‘Are you going to tell me why I found you all alone in there?’ Clementine glared at him, but he continued ‘Where you expecting someone else to walk in?’

‘You tell anyone about it, I’ll make sure everyone knows about a certain someone you like to write about often’

Aasim’s face went pale, realizing now how much she had actually read.

‘Nevermind. I call a truce’ He muttered, actually frightened.

Clementine resumed her train of thoughts. There was no need for her to be worried anymore. Louis was there. She glanced at him once more and their eyes met for half a second, as quickly as her anxious thoughts disappeared, a terrible guilt overcame her. She wanted to leave the table at that very moment, but she refrained. Instead, she shut her eyes closed and tried to listen to her own advice. The same she’d always give AJ when he was feeling like his fears were overtaking his mind.

‘Fuck Off…’ She muttered, without opening her eyes

‘I just called a truce!’ Aasim raised an eyebrow

‘Not you…’

‘So...the rabbit?’ He looked at her meal ‘If it’s not well cooked, you should tell Omar-’

‘No, Aasim’ Clementine sighed ‘I was talking to myself’

‘I know we’ve known you guys for just a couple of weeks, but I can feel this is not your usual behavior. Is everything alright?’

Aasim was sincerely worried about her. She decided that if he was opening up to her, she’d might as well do the same.

‘To be honest, I haven’t been feeling like myself lately…’

‘Maybe you should go to bed early’

‘Yeah, maybe’ Clementine nodded ‘Thanks, Aasim...good night’

‘Night’ He smiled at her and continued eating.

She stood up, looked at her bowl, still full of rabbit stew and decided to give it to AJ. Right after, she headed back to the dorm.

When she got there, she lay down on her bed, closed her eyes and started listing ideas to solve this mess

She took the letter Louis wrote for her out of her pocket, after fiddling her fingers against it for a  while, she finally figured it out.

She took a piece of paper and a pencil from the kids’ artwork on the desk and began writing.

The result was an almost indecipherable message with scratched out words in between and confusion all over.

Taking advantage of the fact that everyone was still eating, she sneaked out and placed her letter on the piano, hoping Louis would find it before his morning practice.

The next morning, Louis did wake up with the intention of tickling the ivories for some minutes before breakfast, but Brody and Marlon walked up to him to change his plans right as he was heading out.

‘Hey Lou, a moment, please?’ Marlon started.

‘It depends on how long that moment really is. My day is packed, you see…If you wanted to make an appointment, you should have talked to my secretary, by the way, have you seen Aasim? I haven’t seen him since last night’

‘It won’t take long, come’ Brody walked towards the office, followed by the boys.

Once inside, Brody closed the door. Aasim was sitting on the sofa, reading a book.

‘Aasim! I see you got detention too’ Louis greeted him with a grin. The boy nodded back and returned the smile.

‘We already talked with him, but we wanted to know if you were up to the task’ Marlon began, only to be interrupted by a loud sigh from his best friend.

‘Task, Marlon?...Really?’

‘Turns out this could actually motivate you to do something around here besides sulking at the piano all day long’ Assim joked.

‘It’s called looking for inspiration, you wouldn’t understand it’

‘Yeah, I think you might be looking for inspiration in all the wrong places’

‘It’s not like I have a lot of places to actually look for it now, do I?’

‘I’m just saying’ Aasim shrugged

‘The thing is’ Brody interrupted the boys’ banter, setting a more serious atmosphere ‘We’re hunting and fishing today. I was going fishing, but I’m currently...unfit for it. I woke up in a lot of pain and I can’t even think about eating breakfast without wanting to puke. It’s probably because I’ve been more stressed out lately, you guys don’t need to worry about it, but I really really need one of you, either of you, to fill in for me. It would be just for today. I know neither of you have fished in a while…’

‘Then, let him do it’ Louis interrupted, sitting next to Aasim ‘He’s way better than me, anyways’

‘I’m flattered, Louis, I really am, but I already refused. I like hunting, not spearfishing. We all know you were very good at it until you joined the hunting party. That’s why I recommended you’

‘Come on, dude…’ Louis pleaded, looking at Marlon, who in time, looked at Brody sigh tiredly, almost painfully.

‘If it is really such an inconvenience for you to help Clem provide food for all of us, then I’ll have to ask Violet or Mitch, I know they’d help out without thinking it twice’

‘Hold up!’  Louis sat up with a sudden interest ‘Let me think about it’ Aasim rolled his eyes, clearly amused.

‘So? We need an answer, man…’ Marlon finally spoke.

‘Ya’ll know I’m just joking , right? I’ve never denied myself the opportunity to help you guys. Of course I’ll do it’

‘Good’ Brody smiled ‘I’m going to inform Clem about these changes. You can go now’

The boys left the office and headed for the benches

‘You know your piano is not this way, right?’ Aasim pointed out.

‘Oh, I don’t feel like playing right now. I’m actually feeling very inspired as we speak’ Louis gushed, displaying a wide, toothy smile. [PART 1] - [PART 2] - [PART 3]

[annarosewriting]

In Which I Remember Something Poetic as Hell I Texted My Friend Once.

I had a panic attack this week. 

I’ve had panic attacks before. I’ve learned how to combat them, I get through them and they leave me feeling like I’ve wrestled a bear so I only want to sleep for the next three days. They’re lots of fun.

But this one happened while I was driving home from work. I was stuck in rush hour traffic, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard I thought my knuckles were going to burst out of my skin. Frantically trying to focus on the McElroy’s goofs in the background as a steady refrain of “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay” played in the hopes that my brain would believe it so I could make it home.

I’m 99% sure this panic attack was triggered by corporate America. 

I started, what I lovingly refer to as, my “Real Person Job”, a few weeks ago. Which means, I’m working in the field I specifically studied in for four and a half years and went into INCREDIBLE debt for. 

I work from 8:30 to 5, five days a week and the highlight of my weekdays is my lunch break when I get to watch Top Chef.   

This is my first experience with this job structure. And it took, hmm, I want to say, 48 hours? After starting this job where I sat down in between my parents on the couch after work, book in hand, opened to the first page and after reading the first word on the page, looked up at them and asked, eyes wide, voice rising to an ear splitting register, “IS THIS IT?????”

I mean, I get home around 6, work out, eat dinner, either watch TV or read for a bit, then I go to bed, wake up and do the same. Damn. Thing. 

Again. 

And again.

And again.

And again until I DIE. 

OSU glossed over this during graduation. 

So, my first two days being a working stiff were a bit of a culture shock. I’m sure it happens to everyone (please confirm this happens to other people). It could only get better though right? 

Queue the panic attack a few days later in my car. 

My brain likes to play a fun game called “How Far Can We Take This Thought Until It Becomes Such An All-Consuming, Terrible, Twisted Shadow of What You Originally Started With It’s All You Can Think About”. It’s incredibly entertaining and I can play it at any time!!!! 

The way I like to play is, I’ll start with one innocuous thought and then my brain will take that thought in its little gnarled goblin hands, hold it tight and jump headfirst into a black abyss where my Bad Thoughts live which is normally covered by a shoddily constructed quilt of hyper-fixations. 

The downward spiral staircase my brain decided to descend while I was having this particular panic attack went a little something like this;

“Things seem to be going well at this job, you have a lot of responsibilities and you’re doing well with them. Hell, they even gave you some more projects to work on which must mean they like the work you’re doing!”

“But, what if there comes a time when they DON’T like the work you’re doing?” 

“Or, even worse, what if there comes a time when YOU don’t like the work you’re doing?” 

“Is the work you’re doing even THAT important? I mean, c’mon. You’re not saving lives or working for a just and noble cause.” 

“Hey remember when you were younger and you knew you didn’t want a desk job? Let’s bring up your younger self and see what SHE thi-OH JESUS- well, I called her up and she started throwing old Kelly Clarkson CD’s at me and was leaking black eyeliner everywhere and kept hissing that no one understood her so we’re leaving her out of this.” 

“But like, do you think anything you do will have any impact on this world?” 

“Will you ever live up to anything? Will you ever do anything meaningful with your life?” 

“Will you ever even be loved?”

“Are you even worthy of love?” 

And the final thought, to end this nightmarish, gymnastics floor show of leaping to conclusions that will ensure my anxiety goes home with the gold; 

“What are you even DOING with your life??”

By the time my anxiety stuck the dismount, I was VERY aware of how I couldn’t quite catch my breathe because it felt like an Instagram Influencer was sitting on my chest, threatening to strangle me with the hair extensions they’re ambassadors for if I hadn’t come up with a way to make vast societal differences on this earth by the time I’m 25. 

When I parked my car, I was fully convinced that if I couldn’t eradicate homophobia, fatphobia, racism and sexism in the next six months then I may as well lay down in the middle of the forest floor to decompose in peace and hope that Hozier writes a song about it. 

It was when the anxiety was reaching a fever pitch and I was googling forests that were close to me, that I remembered something I texted my best friend one day. 

My friend had asked “what’s the point”, because remember how being in your 20′s is difficult, lonely and frustrating? And in a moment of incredibly clarity and optimism on my part, I texted back;

“The point is to make your life and your purpose a golden light for others to look at and think ‘huh, maybe this terrible place isn’t so bad after all if someone as wonderful as she is can exist’“

Shakespeare WHOMST.

I kept repeating those words to myself and slowly, I was able to catch my breathe. My brain stopped doing pirouettes down into the existential muck and I was able to drag my body downstairs to eat a whole loaf of bread then go right to bed.

Here’s the thing, my anxiety is triggered by the fear that I won’t do anything worthwhile with my time here on this floating space rock. 

I have a desire to create radical, lasting, social change, I want to be a force to be reckoned with. I want to be that woman that stomped into this world, wearing a dress with pockets, who shook shit up so thoroughly it changed the world. 

That’s is a tall fucking order and I need to remember that I’m only 5′2″. 

It’s challenging for me to remember that on a daily basis just BEING is enough to make a difference in this world. 

To remember that my family wouldn’t be the same without me. They’d be a lot quieter and way less knowledgable about One Direction’s solo careers.  

To remember that the love I give to my friends and the love I accept from them makes this world a better and more loving place to exist. 

To remember that I matter. By being here, at this moment in time is enough to justify my existence on this planet. 

My anxiety isn’t going away anytime soon and I think I’ll always be worried about what my legacy is going to be. 

But, whenever I start questioning everything because I get excited when I go out to dinner and I know I’ll have leftovers for lunch tomorrow, I remind myself about that golden light. 

And I know that I’ll get to where I need to go. 

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 1X13 - Whatever Happened to Frederick?

Hi! Hope you’re having a good day! Want to hear me yammer on about this episode for three pages? 

Sure you do! Right under the cut!

Press Release With their love for each other growing stronger, David finally agrees to tell Kathryn about his relationship with Mary Margaret and put an end to his loveless marriage. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was, while runaway groom Prince Charming searches for Snow White, he agrees to aid Abigail on a dangerous mission to recover something precious that was lost to her. General Thoughts Past The story in the past works, but I felt that for all the screentime Charming go, his character got very little out of it, for the story refused to engage with the conflict he was given. Snow rejected him, and while he feels sad and hurt, we don’t get a sense of what that action was driving him to do. He left Abigail, but what was he planning on doing next? What did this adventure do to re-route his journey so he’d go back to Snow? Look at “7:15AM’s” flashback: Snow is intending on going back to Charming, but a threat makes her ward off. Here, we have the event that changes, but because we don’t know what his plan was, there’s a loss of balance here. It’s not the most important thing, but for the big moment at the end of the flashback being that Charming will keep fighting for Snow, the contrast to what he was going to do should be wide and because this was undefined, the big moment doesn’t hit home with quite the same force.

I wish the siren would have preyed more on Charming, rather than just asking the audience to believe that Charming’s resolve would plummet so much based off of just seeing her and saying a line or two. While he does fight, I get the sense that we’re supposed to be seeing Charming, on the edge of despair, possibly giving in to something he knows is a lie because he has nothing to live for. However, Charming’s desperation wasn’t built up enough earlier on for that payoff to work. Present I like how we see how even though Emma has arrived and things have drastically improved, Regina’s curse is still very much intact. Everyone is still in this loop of misery, most notably the main players. The storytelling here - while a sad story - is still solidly told, apart from a nitpick or two that I touch upon in my “Insights” regarding Regina and Kathryn. David is still less sympathetic, but for the first time, I get the sense that I’m supposed to believe that because the episode is about him making a wrong choice and feeling the consequences of it. And Mary Margaret is so strong here. She is at once both a hero and a victim. She has the good sense to tell David the right thing to do, hold to her values, even as she’s being attacked, and let David go when he lied to her. At the same time, she received the harshest of blows and it was so sad to see her friends turn on her, and that acts as perfect build up for the next episode. Insights -Unpopular opinion time right off the bat: Holy fuck. Abigail gets the hardest freakin’ time from this fandom (More the GA, but still)! She’s done all of nothing in terms of evil shit and was rude for maybe a full minute of screen time at most! AND we know that she’s grieving! I bet when she’s not grieving, that wit becomes sass the likes of which at least match out other leading ladies and would be adored for it! All the love, Abby! All the love! -Kathryn’s putting in so much effort and is treating herself by following her dreams! You go, sweetie! <3 -Charming, did you hear that “despot’s” speech about how this marriage is going to save a fuckton of people? Like, I know King George is a baddie and his actions totally follow suit, but when I think about that speech and his motivation, I just can’t help but think of everyone who would suffer if Charming just ran off with Snow. Sure, they get the kingdoms anyhow, but he hasn’t thought that far right now! All I’m asking for is just some acknowledgements of his points. -Going back to positivity, I love the way Charming looks at Abigail as she says, “how charming.” He’s like, “that’s my name, don’t wear it out!” -That hat looks so cute on Mary Margaret! Season 1 was just the season of cute hats in Storybrooke (Sans Moe) -”I don’t know if I can.” David, work with me here! I’m trying to like you, here, but you’re not makit it easy! Thank God Mary Margaret is having none of it and is being the kindest version of blunt as fuck here. She’s such a boss! I gotta say, I’m going to miss this more practical side of her once the curse breaks. -August trying to subtly not make this a date is cracking me up! He’s like, “I say you in diapers. Let’s not go there.” But if he wants to talk to be understood, he’s got to pretend to want to show her his wood! XD -I’m reminded of something from TV Tropes: Charming asks Abigail if she’s tried True Love’s Kiss with the same casualness as he would ask about trying chicken noodle soup for a cold! XD -Even before “The Return” airs, we see these little fakeout bits of August’s personality in his physical mannerisms as he handles the pages of the book. He’s meticulous, and of course, that’s so close to Rumple, but it’s like Gepetto, too! - I actually paused as August was adding to the book, but the story bits didn’t look familiar. -I know Regina gets flak for trying to replace Henry’s book with video games (And I won’t pretend that it’s undeserved, circumstances are circumstances, after all), but I think that it’s also a nice gesture to see her trying to give Henry something that relates to his desires for heroism. It shows how on some level, she knows him (Although go on Wikipedia and look up a little company named Nintendo, Gina, kay?) and she wants to take a genuine step towards his happiness in a way that doesn’t endanger her curse. That said, the genre’s all wrong! Come on, Gina! Fantasy and Sci-Fi are two different things (Then again, considering season 2, I can’t blame you for blurring the lines) XD -Regina, what did you expect would happen when you told Kathryn the truth that way? Had you told her earlier, of course she’d be on your side, but right now? No, and why would she? I’m not sure if this scene was written to show that Regina is bad at friendship or that she was trying to steer Kathryn in Mary Margaret’s direction, but either way, this was a weird writing choice! Why not just have her break the news in the first place? And along those lines, why say she buried them if they were just in her office. Saying that she’d never use them would’ve made so much more sense! -Is it just me, or is Charming super cynical and dark in this episode? Like REALLY cynical! I guess i can interpret it as a reaction to Snow’s rejection. -”If you don’t, I will.” Granny, you are too adorable! -Wow, Charming, you have NO resolve! She literally transformed to Snow before your eyes. ...Never mind! -Really? Charming was the first to not give in? Your schtick seems pretty easy to beat. The warriors of the Enchanted Forest must SUCK! -I feel like Kathryn’s apology would’ve come across as so much better if we saw just a little bit more of them together as friends. -Awwww! Swan Believer cuteness!!! That is one excellent surprise tactic on your part, Emma - taking it out juuuuust as Henry’s not looking! I love it! -”I hope you’re right, kid.” That’s a profoundly sad line. Some of the optimism Emma’s been building up has been tarnished over those last few episodes after the Town Hall incident -I love that little smile Red gives as Charming tells her he’ll find Snow. He’s definitely won her approval! -Warrior King George! I really wish he showed up more, the more I watch him! Arcs David and Mary Margaret finding each other - I really didn’t have a problem with the writing of this part of the episode. David comes off as such a shitty person, but he gets the consequences of that behavior and it works really well. Snow and Charming finding each other - There’s a sting to Charming throughout the episode from Snow’s rejection back in the “7:15” flashback, and while that makes sense from a character standpoint, it’s a little confusing from a point of conflict. Charming has all the darkness of someone who is giving up on love (Or at least feels the pain of unrequited love), but he’s still just as strong in his efforts to find Snow as he was before she rejected him. There’s a weird dissonance in that respect. At the end of the flashback, Charming going after Snow is supposed to be this big and epic decision, but I never believed that he was actually stopping his pursuit of her. The Mystery of August Booth - We see the payoff of August having the book, and his mystery develops as we now want to know not only what he added to the book, but why it was added. Kathryn Nolan Abduction Arc - We’ve started here! Gold, you little shit! Don’t abduct people! Favorite Dynamic Emma and August. Their dynamic made me smile so hard and it was a relief in a very negative episode. Once again, their banter is like watching two master swordsman spar. August always knows just what questions to answer and just what quips to make to get Emma to go along with his schemes. Meanwhile, Emma learns more about August with every word spoken to her and uses his as well as her own lines of logic to learn more about him. It makes for something really fun to watch. August’s use of language is...not exactly flowery (I’d reserve that word for Rumple and Killian), but at the same time, there’s this weary wisdom to it with a touch of pomp and circumstance. But at the same time, Emma’s lines don’t come off as static or boring because she builds off of what he says in her own way. Writer We’ve got David Goodman at bat once again! So, I noticed a pattern, In both “The Price of Gold” and “True North,” I discussed the lack of strength in the story coming from one character in the past. And once again, as I’ve said earlier, I find the writing for Charming a little lacking in the past. We see bitterness, but it’s directionless bitterness without a point of contrast, and that’s really sucky. That said, his work in the present is very solid. The stories are told simply and well with moments to establish character and conflict. Rating 8/10. This was a really unpleasant episode to watch, for some pretty obvious reasons. Watching people be harsh with each other is never appealing and there’s little charm in this story where one can take a breather, apart from Emma and August’s scenes and Emma and Henry’s scenes. It’s also a little boring at times. That said, is it bad? Well, no. Unpleasantness doesn’t necessitate badness. Mary Margaret and Abigail/Kathryn come off as amazingly sympathetic and the fallout for David’s bad choice is so strongly shown. However, my problem lies in the past, as I stated before, and I know it may not be a big point for you, reader, but for me, this is like watching “Dumbo” and never being shown Dumbo’s mom being taken away: A crucial piece of the story is missing. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Thank you all for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales for putting this project together! Come back next time to see whether or not that episode is a dream come true! Season Tally (109/220) Writer Tally for Season 1: A&E (31/70) Liz Tigelaar (17/20)* David Goodman (24/50) Jane Espenson (26/60) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (19/40) Daniel Thomsen (8/10)* (* = Their work for the season is complete)

Operation Rewatch Archives