#Issues. but at some point you realise the reason you have more negative memories about your mother is because your mother was actually THERE

[sammygender]

things no one tells you abt growing up number one: you start to get inexplicably mad at your dad all the time

[cuppachar]

Rewatching jamie in early season 1 is so hard cause like. I wish they knew what he was going through. I remember being young and hurting and so mean because of it. And it was so not okay of me. But also, I'd see everyone else allowed to be silly and sensitive and emotional and mediocre and I wasn't allowed to be anything but tough, and it made me so mad. And I just want to hug him and tell him I get it, and that it's gonna be okay.

Hi Anon

Thank you for that insight and hearing your experience.

I get you completely - re-watching S1 just reminds me that we do not know what's going on inside other people or know what has happened to them. I think it's why I love that scene with Roy in S3 where he's doing the press conference after Isaac's aggression to the abusive football fan.

'to do what he did today, even though it was wrong, I give him love.'

Knowing some of Jamie's background (and I wish we got more to be honest, but's an ensemble cast with multiple characters who have complex issues and/or dynamics, so it's limited in that regards) and seeing S1 again, it's such a different viewing and understanding of a character and makes Jamie so much more human and real. Jamie isn't just a prick. He's a prick with trauma and reasons.

I don't see cocky prick Jamie who thinks he's best who never passes because everyone else is shit - I see Jamie, who's terrified of what his dad will do to him if he isn't dominant.

I don't see a Jamie who doesn't celebrate his teammate's birthdays and eat cake - I see a Jamie who's been told to treat his teammates as 'assists' and has diet plans that don't include cakes or pastries because he has a weight he needs to keep.

I don't see a Jamie who doesn't want to greet his new teammate - I see Jamie, who flinches at fast movements and doesn't trust easily. I see a Jamie who's realised he's not their only ace anymore, and that terrifies him because of the implications that may have with his father (Imagine the writers hadn't gone down the rehab route for James Tartt Snr in S3 and how Zava's introduction and place in the team would have caused some serious consequences for Jamie, both psychologically and physically).

I don't see the Jamie who cockily refuses to 'practice' - I see a Jamie who shifted into 'I don't like angry men shouting at me' (and at some point pre-canon, I imagine Jamie's hero-worship of Roy was destroyed and tainted when he met 'Shouty, I don't give a shit-Roy-Kent And I'll take out my negative emotions on you, even if you deserve it or not' and Jamie's poster hero , who he'd imagined stepping out of the wall and putting his dad through the said wall was gone and Jamie's automatic response was to be a prick in defence/offence.)

I don't see a Jamie who brought two dates to the auction - I see a Jamie who wasn't sure if he could get Keeley to bid on her own boyfriend, so he brought another plus one instead, terrified that he'd have to have sex with an older woman like those ladies behind the glass windows in Amsterdam. Watching that episode back really icks me out, and seeing Jamie's response back when I first watched it, you could mistake Jamie's reaction to both Keeley and Roy's 'teasing' as Jamie just being mocked and teased, but re-watching it, I see a Jamie who's really uncomfortable with the attention he's getting and upset at his rival and girlfriend cruelly mocking him (of course, they don't know about his experience in Amsterdam) but I'm always struck at how Jamie walks away from the table, from the both of them, because he's upset (and it kind of hits me even more, 'cause I think that Jamie doesn't even know why he's so upset with how much he's suppressed the memory, the implication of what his father orchestrated despite his tender age).

Although, I think they could have had a bit more Jamie and Ted interaction or reflection on Jamie's relationship with his father and/or trauma (because there did seem to have link to Ted's panic attacks, especially when you consider Ted's panic attack during the match in S2, because you can hear Jamie's dad verbally abusing Jamie from the S1 final as Ted spirals, which was really interesting and I only realised this recently) I really do appreciate Ted's "I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that's being alone and being sad. Ain't no one in this room alone" sentiment, but I just really wished he'd reached out to Jamie, because Jamie wasn't just alone and sad, he was scared and traumatised, and although he didn't verbalise it in S2, he obviously had no safe places or people he felt he could turn to, so he not only left the profession he loves, he left the country.

Anyway, my ramble is over.

In summary, you only really get a better understanding of Jamie by re-watching Season 1 and seeing him in a different light after watching S2/S3.

[review-anon]

Random and honestly late question i suppose but i only found out you have an actual blog recently

So why did you hate sunako from asoot so damn badly? Idk if you still dislike her now but i remember a while back you were yelling about how she was a liar and untrustworthy and i recall mod bubbles even had to intefere with that

And i never understood why you hated her so much so mind elaborating on the reason? And if that option has changed since?

That's fine, this is quite new. Not the blog but people finding out about it.

My issue with Sunako was for a few reasons. Firstly, I didn't like how she kept forcing the Quantum Crew to trust the 76 Squad without question. That probably was NOT how the Mod intended for it, but it was how I read it, and that set off red flags right away because that's a big way how people could be betrayed. The other issue was since the 76 Squad were all NWPM/DTFA characters, I had no knowledge to trust. And it wasn't like Sunako was any better as prior to her future self showing up in Black and White Christmas, our last interaction was with Die Free or Live Hard has her being a massive mega brat. Granted people do mature when they get older, but again it was a case of show not tell.

It was mentioned Sunako knew Umeko beforehand but this wasn't told or explained well beforehand, which given this fuelled a lot of my mistrust, especially once Tsumugi came into the picture with her whole memory tampering thing, I started to get ideas that Sunako was either not as mature as she thinks or was a traitor trying to sow discourse in the Crew.

But if you want me to be brutally honest, it was personal experience that was why I didn't trust her. I don't have a good track record of trusting others due to how many times I've been kicked down and betrayed in the past, to the point I start to question if I keep graviting towards people who will stab me in the back. So when you tell me to trust someone without question, my mind cannot do that. And one of the things that really, and I mean really sets me off is the idea of white lies, as that has often been weaponised against me in the past.

When you hear the term white lies you often think of it being falsehoods designed for the benefit of others. When I hear the term white lies, I see it as ways to keep people decieved because they are seen too stupid or incapable of learning it on their own. Couple this with me not being in a good mental state when the truth of why Sunako did came out, and its why I exploded in The Price of Fate and Bubbles put his foot down. Which I will say he was 100% right to do so as I was completely and utterly in the wrong there.

However you may notice the fact I'm using past tense to describe my loathing for Sunako, so does that mean my opinion has changed? Well yeah. Don't get me wrong I'm not in the Sunako fan club, but the truth of why she did it, and how it seems trauma was why she acted the way she did, makes me understand because nobody acts perfect whenever trauma is involved. I also realised that the whole 76 Squad from a writing standpoint was horribly mishandled as it wasn't presented well, which caused this situation to unfold.

I also feel like I negatively effected certain events as while I'm sure Nikei's descent and downfall due to the fact he cannot get over his grudge over Masa wasn't related to how I felt, I can't help but feel that his anger was my sorta mouthpiece to how I was behaving. Not to mention between Black and White Christmas and now, I had to do a lot of emotional maturing due to irl events, which made me realise I was very poorly behaved.

So TL;DR While I felt Sunako was poorly written in some areas, the main bulk of it can be boiled down to personal issues relating to trust which Sunako happened to push one too many of my buttons. But understanding the context, some growing up on my side and realising I was a bit of a arsehole means I don't hate her. I don't like her but I am more neutral now.

[violettelueur]

— GETO SUGURU || RELY ON ME

↳ featuring : geto suguru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of murder, grammar issues and spoilers for non-manga readers 

↳ spoiler warnings : chapter 65-79 spoilers

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 19 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.8k

↳ request : Hello, I love your Cafe! I was wondering if I could possibly request headcanons or a scenario about a female jujutsu sorcerer who can sense emotions and starts hanging out with Geto a lot right after everything with Riko happened to try to help him mentally and maybe they start dating after they get closer?

↳ barista’s notes : once again, barista violettelueur is back again with another imagine and today it is staring geto suguru  ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ and the next one pending will be for KUGISAKI NOBARA ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ right now, it is 2am but i had a nap earlier, so i can’t get back to sleep even though my online classes start at 9:10....hahahaha ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too clingy with me?”

Slyly shifting your eyes to the side, you began to gape at the tall sorcerer right beside you, as he continued to move forward to wherever he was going - to be honest, he didn’t even know himself.

“And do you have a problem with that? I don’t see you pushing me away,” you teasingly commented as you let out a little giggle trying to lighten up the sombre atmosphere that was clouding around you and Geto at this current moment in time.

Unbeknownst to your classmate, you could feel the suffocating pressure that he was carrying in his heart, suffocating to the point where you were nearly choking onto the curse energy that you were sensing. However, you couldn’t blame him at all for feeling this way all. 

Ever since the assassination of the Star Plasma Vessel, Geto couldn’t help but feel a sense of heavy guilt surrounding him after the killing of Amanai Riko and with the situation of Gojo becoming stronger than he had anticipated, Geto started to feel more isolated than ever.

Well, he would've if it wasn’t for your constant presence.

To be completely honest, Geto was perplexed on what type of sorcerer you were. You never really revealed what your cursed technique was to anyone but knew you were extremely skilled with cursed weapons and tools, to the point where you were able to embed your curse energy and create your own through craftsmanship as a talented armourer. However, he was still intrigued by what you were naturally skilled at.

“Y/N, what type of sorcerer are you?” Geto asked in a curious tone leading you to halt for a quick second, as you began to think about what you could answer to the sorcerer who was now directly in front of you.

How could you answer? 

Actually, were you even allowed to answer?

Even though it seemed useless to some sorcerers, your curse technique was the ability to sense the emotions of humans, curses and sorcerers and though it seemed to be simple, your technique was an extremely rare ability due to your whole existence used to help reduce the number of curses being formed - you were fundamentally the possible sole solution of the extinction of curses, especially ones that could develop into special grade curses.

However, you weren’t allowed to inform Geto that let alone anyone else that you known of. You were informed by Yaga sensei as well as the higher-ups to not tell anyone about it.

“I’m just a weapons specialist Suguru, I thought you already knew that,” you answered with a smile on your face, as you walked closer to catch up with him before linking your arm with his to keep him close to you leading to the intense curse energy around you to lighten its hold on you slighty causing a small but noticeable smile to form on your face.

“I’m not as strong as you, but I know how to deal with people, so rely on me a bit more aye?” you rhetorically asked as you began to drag Geto to wherever you wanted, needing to make sure he was going to be alright and nothing was going to happen to him later on.

Surprised, Geto couldn’t help but stare at the back of your head with widened eyes as he continued to let you take him to where you wanted to take him. Geto didn’t know why but he couldn’t help but draw a tiny smile on his face as he also let out a light laugh.

“Yeah, I rely on you a bit more often Y/N”

                                             ꕥ

“Then we should just kill all non-shamans”

Widening your eyes in complete horror, you suddenly became frozen as you stood beside the doorway that would lead you to the very conversation that Geto and special-grade sorcerer Tsukumo Yuki were having right now.

Leaning your body against the wall, you tried to balance yourself as the feeling in your legs slowly began to give away with the intentions of not wanting to make any noise of revealing that you were eavesdropping the horrific statement your friend had suddenly made.

‘Kill all non-shamans, is he crazy?’

“Geto-kun, that’s a decent plan,” Yuki mentioned causing you to turn your head to the side of the entrance with pure shock as her comment was not helping with the situation at all, as well as the intense amount of antagonistic curse energy that was practically choking you at this point leading to the feeling of your throat agonisingly closing up due to the extreme field of negative emotions that was being manifested between the two strong sorcerers.

“However, there is no need for that when we have L/N around,” Yuki suddenly mentioned, causing Geto to look at her with confusion to which lead her to continue with her explanation by saying, “well her curse technique is extremely powerful since she can sense emotions and that lead to the reduction of curses being formed, haven’t you notice the lack of mission you been sent on recently?”.

Thinking about her question, Geto couldn’t help but suddenly realise that Yuki was correct at the fact that he had been on little to no missions recently. Was it because of you? Curse technique that can sense emotions? Was that why you have been by his side for quite some time?

“Even though Gojo is the reason why there is a balance in the world, L/N is the reason why there is peace you know, but that’s a story for another time,” Yuki huffed as she suddenly got up from the seat before placing on her leather jacket. “I gotta thank her though, she is the reason why I get to go aboard so many times, maybe I should take her to Paris as a ‘thank you’ gift?” Yuki questioned herself while pointing her chin with her index finger to emphasise her thoughts before coming to the sudden realisation of something.

“You never told me your answer to my question,” Yuki mentioned with a small pout, leading to Geto looking at the woman with a bewildered expression on his face leading to her to then ask, “what kind of woman is your type?”.

Looking at the special grade sorcerer with a blank expression, he couldn’t suddenly think about the comment you had said to him earlier.

“I’m not as strong as you, but I know how to deal with people, so rely on me a bit more aye?”

‘What a liar,’ Geto thought as he smiled at the small but fond memory, ‘you are strong Y/N’

“My type of woman is someone that I know I can rely on”

                                              ꕥ

Feeling a sense of coldness upon his cheek, Geto couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to see you pressing a cold water bottle to his face as you began to sip on the can of cold coffee that you have brought from one of the vending machines that were nearest to the track field where you and Geto were training at.

“Thanks,” Geto said with gratitude as he took the bottle from your grasp before taking a quick gulp of the refreshing liquid that was smoothing his body from the disgusting heat and sweat that he had produced from fighting with you.

Geto couldn’t lie to himself. He had completely forgotten how masterful you were with your weapons as well as how physically strong you were when not using your curse energy. You were really the ideal sorcerer in some ways even when your curse technique had nothing to do with exorcising curses at all. Geto really admired you for that.

“Are you going to continue staring?” you casually asked, as you tilted your head slightly to take a quick peek at him before cheekily commenting “am I that beautiful~” leading you to laugh at your own comment to which Geto followed suit.

“You’re beginning to act like Satoru,” Geto mentioned, leading you to express a concerned look as you didn’t want to act like your annoying classmate, leading Geto to laugh once again at your grimace expression causing you to turn to him with a soften look.

From what you could sense right now, the curse energy that was swimming around you and Geto was tranquil to the point where it was peaceful. From what you could remember from the beginning, this situation was the complete opposite since the incident and that put nothing but a slight warmth within your heart, the curse energy back then was suffocating which was contrasting to this feeling that could nearly put you to sleep. Geto has made so much progress during the few months that had passed but what surprised you to most was how fast he had made progress, even after the little situation with Yuki.

‘She really had to snake out my technique huh?’

“Are you going to continue staring at me? Am I that handsome~” Geto then teasing asked, leading you to snap out of your thoughts before realising that he was mocking you slightly from your earlier comment. However, before you could either counter him with your annoyance, you suddenly notice the sorcerer lean forward towards you causing you to slightly step back before feeling a light touch on your forehead.

Pulling away, Geto managed to get a glimpse of your surprised expression with a hint of pink hues on your face before letting out a cheeky giggle. “Maybe you’re not like Satoru, he’s not the shy type anyway,” Geto playfully mentioned before grabbing your hand that wasn’t holding the coffee as he began to drag you away from the track field where you both were training at before.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Geto softly said with a hint of appreciation as he continued with, “rely on me also okay?”

Feeling shy, you looked down to your connecting hands before tightening the hold as the curse energy that surrounded you both was now feeling more gentle and tender than it had ever been before. However, you still had some questions in mind.

“HEY! You can’t just kiss my forehead and grab my hand like I ain’t going to ask questions Suguru?” you exclaimed, as you began to frantically shake your interlocking hands in a slight panic causing Geto to look at you with surprised expression before laughing loudly at your sudden outburst.

Even though Geto knew you since the beginning of his enrolment at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, he had never seemed you once looked so flustered like you did right now. You were always the calm one between him, Gojo and Ieiri, so this was a whole new sight to him.

Tightening the grip of your hand, you crazy shaking came to a slight pause as Geto began to slowly but tenderly pull your hand towards him, only to then land a light kiss on the back of it leading to the once pink hues that were painting on your cheek to become rose red.

“Rely on me to make you blush, okay girlfriend~?”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[lucy90712]

Dream- face reveal

wc- 1971 

Warnings: use of dreams real name

~ I have been friends with this guy on the internet Dream for about 5 years now, we talk all the time but we have never met in person and I have never seen his face. He doesn't show his face on the internet and I've never asked so it just never happened, he knows what I look like all too well because I like sending him stupid selfies and we FaceTime in the middle of the night all the time.

We have been trying to meet in person for years but things keep getting in the way and changing our plans first family issues, then a hurricane and then a whole pandemic. Despite all of this we have finally set a date to meet which is not going to change not for anything or anyone. It's going to be a big day or should I say month, as insane as it sounds I'm going to move in with Dream and Sapnap one of our other friends for a little while to really make this trip worth it even if it only lasts that long.

The process has been difficult because for me to get to Florida I need to get a plane which requires me to get tested before I fly and for my own piece of mind I have been strictly quarantining for the past two weeks but its finally here. I fly out tomorrow morning. I went and got tested yesterday and got my negative result today which I need to get on the plane.

I've been packing all day today because to be there for a month I need a bunch of my set up and cameras so that my content doesn't just stop but then I also need clothes and I can't seem to get both things to fit quite right.

At one point my phone started ringing but there was a mountain of stuff everywhere so I had to dig around to find it and when I did I saw that it was a FaceTime call from Dream, I picked up and immediately put my phone down to get on with my 5th attempt at packing.

"Yo hows it going?" Dream asked

"I'd say pretty average right now I'm super excited for tomorrow but my bag is giving me a hell of a fight" I replied

"Prop your phone up and I'll try and help" he said

I did as I was told and got my small tripod to rest my phone in where you could see what I was looking at. Honestly it was a mess and I was kind of embarrassed but Dream didn't need to know that and besides my face wasn't in frame so he couldn't see how embarrassed I was. I attempted putting everything in a slightly different way to last time which seemed to work until it came to fitting in my tripod and my wash bag of which there was no room for.

"Fuck sake I thought I had it then" I raged slightly

"Ok take out the webcam and forget about the tripod because I have ones that you can use and then try because I think that should give you enough room" he said

"Hell yeah thanks dream" I said after zipping up the suitcase

I flopped back on the floor tired from the minimal amounts of effort I had put in today which just shows how incredibly unfit I am. I recovered before getting up and moving my phone to my desk where I sat to talk to Dream.

We talked for a while until Sapnap came in and I talked to him for a little while, he's been living with Dream for a few months so he warned me about a few things like you don't wake Dream up which I took note of and he told me that Dream will just come and sit in your stream. Eventually they had to leave so I was left on my own to just kind of chill until it was an acceptable time to go to sleep.

Skip to the morning

I woke up at 5am when my alarm went off, I have a love hate relationship with my alarm because I only ever use it when I have something going on which is exciting but the sound makes me want to throw my phone out the window. Despite my annoyance I got up and went straight to the bathroom to shower and get dressed, I thought about wearing something nice but then I realised I had a 5 hour flight and I couldn't bare the thought of being sat down for that long not in comfy clothes. My comfy outfit consisted of leggings and one of my ex boyfriends hoodies because I never gave it back and I'm over it enough to just wear the hoodie whenever I want.

At just before 6 I got in my Uber to head to the airport seeing as my flight was at around 8 it would be wise to get there early. I wasn't sure how busy the airport would be seeing as you aren't meant to travel but I don't think I've ever seen an airport that wasn't busy.

I made it to the airport and as I assumed it wasn't heaving but there was still a fair amount of people around. I made my way through the crowds and checked in for my flight before heading through security and then making it to the main part of the airport. That part was less busy as there is more space for people to spread out into which made me much less anxious about people being too close. I had a little while to wait for my flight so I went and got some food because I haven't eaten today, and I don't want to end up with a headache.

When it was time for my flight to board I went to the gate and got straight into my seat watching as more people boarded but not as many as I expected, it was clear that all of the people on the flight had a good reason to be going to Florida and not just going on holiday and no one was sat together so all rules were being adhered to.

My flight landed 5 hours later and everyone filed off the plane going there own way leaving me kind of lost in a place that I wasn't used to and with the anxiety of going to meet Dream for the first time. I had a bit longer to wait because I had to get an Uber to the house even though dream offered to come and pick me up I told him not to because the less people at the airport the better and just incase people recognised me I didn't want him to accidentally face reveal.

I collected my suitcase and went straight out to the car park to get in my uber who was waiting just outside the doors in the designated area for taxis. As soon as I got in the car I text Dream letting him know I was on my way and sharing my location just in case things went south.

My uber stopped outside this one house and I got out walking up the drive taking in the house number to make sure I was at the right place which I was. Thats when the nerves really kicked in, I was about to meet one of my best friends in person for the first time. This is so insane to think that after all there years we get to do all the stupid things friends do.

I got to the door and rang the doorbell waiting the few excruciating seconds before I heard movement behind it indicating that there was someone there. It opened slowly and the first person I saw was sapnap who of course I was excited to see but we have talked properly on FaceTime before so I already know what he looks like.

Next another person popped up behind pushing sapnap out the way and giving me a hug straight away I knew it had to be dream but he ran over so quick that I didn't get to take in anything other than the fact he was hugging me. He pulled away and I got to look at his face, he looked pretty much exactly how I thought he would from the descriptions I have heard. As much as wavy length doesn't sound like a thing it somehow fit his hair and his eyes were also super green, he was definitely taller than I expected though this man towered over me like it was nothing and could definitely push me to the ground in a second but he looked kind just how you want a friend to be.

After a few minutes of freaking out that this was actually happening they let me inside and gave me a tour of the house showing me my room and the set up they had put together for me with a webcam and tripod just like dream said. They finished off the tour before I was made to sit and play whatever game they wanted with them.

We played an assortment of games for hours on end before we ordered food for dinner which we ate all chilling on the sofa. I almost forgot that my followers didn't know I was here but when I remembered I stole patches from dream and got him to take a picture of me with her to post on twitter and Instagram because people would get it without me having to explain. Not much of a grand reveal considering Sapnap did the same when he got here but I didn't really have any other ideas I mean its not like I can just do dream's face reveal for him with a picture on my twitter can I. The response to my tweet was insane within minutes people had got it trending and they were freaking out with all sorts of theories of if I'd officially moved in or if I was just visiting although both were kind of right.

Having spent a few hours here now I feel very at home they boys are really welcoming making sure I'm all good and not too tired after my flight which of course I am but sleep is for the weak so I'll wait. I have been told to call the two of them by their real names unless its on stream which feels kind of odd because I'm use to calling them what their know by despite knowing their real names the whole time. They have given me a nickname which I now go by to make it fair.

It was sad when the day came to an end when we all decided it was best to get some sleep even though I think their going to stay up and they said it for my own sake because I've been yawning non stop for the past 2 hours but either way I'm going to go to sleep and this day (one of the best days of my life) will become that of a memory.

Although I don't think this day could have gone any better its consisted of everything I've ever wanted to have in a friend but none of my friends back home if you can call them friends are into the same things as me so it never works out. Now I have two friends who share the same interests and have the same god awful sleep schedule so we can stay up messing around together if we want to which is what life as a 20 year old should be like. Fun.

[wildlyglittering]

A Love for all Seasons Part 1 (Winter)

I said that I would write a piece for Nessian Month to be posted each Sunday so here is the first!

I’d hoped to have this up earlier but hey ho. I ended up scrapping 8,000 words of something that I’d previously done and re-wrote this in a day. It’s barely edited so I can only apologise for dubious quality and numerous spelling errors. 

I asked for prompt requests and this one is based on ‘modern au, Nesta as a ballerina.’ You’ll probably see that it’s not entirely modern au because I just can’t write modern au - sorry!

I’ve decided to link all 4 prompts received together as a 4 part series. Not all other sections will be as long as this one. Probably. I mean, I’ve not written them yet so....

***

Velaris at Solmas was a magical time and Nesta wasn’t thinking metaphorically – Solmas was literally a magical time.

Solmas was a blend of both fae and human traditions and, as a time for celebration, this meant spirits were up and magical shields were down. Active magic rippled through the air as did the leakage from those who had magic but never used it.

No one truly remembered when the lines between fae and human’s merged and there was the possibility the fae had decided to adjust the truth in collective memory to make it seem like they had always been part of the city.

Perhaps they had. Perhaps they hadn’t. Not a human amongst them could tell and not a fae amongst them would.

As centuries passed, or decades - no one was quite sure after all, the fae evolved to blend in. They shed talons, claws and teeth, and moulted wings and shimmering skin.

That wasn’t to say a good deal of them didn’t have remnants of their previous lineage; there were still those who had wings and those who were always followed by a mist. Some slipped from human form like their flesh was a dress.

There wasn’t a fae who didn’t have some magic, however small. But then, so did Nesta and her sisters, Feyre and Elain.

At some point in their collective past, the fae decided they liked the humans and vice versa and so romantic liaisons were not an uncommon occurrence. Despite a few differences, both species were compatible and that was how magic managed to bleed into some human veins. As Feyre said, they were human but with ‘added spice’.  

Sometimes all that magic, especially at this heightened time of year, was damned irritating.

That morning Nesta had been in a café, reading her book when a lady biting into a gingerbread man had to stop on account of her baked good starting to scream.

Then, when she’d left to make her way to the ballet, she’d been caught in a snow flurry where the snowflakes took the form of small fairies and danced around her. She’d slapped them away, ignoring their outraged cries.

The walk which should have been ten minutes from her favourite café down into the theatre district ended up taking forty after some enchanted horses pulling sleighs decided to protest and caused a blockage across three streets, causing numerous detours.

When she finally reached the theatre, the peace of her day shattered, Nesta stormed into her dressing room and slammed the door. “Fucking fae.”

Nesta didn’t hate the fae. Technically, you couldn’t. Anytime anyone had a negative thought there was a haze which descended over people’s minds to remind them how much they loved the fae and how pleased they were to live beside them.

The magic in her blood meant the haze was a pithy little thing which Nesta mentally told to shove its pleasantries up its non-existent asshole leading it to drift away, pretending it wasn’t offended.

No, she didn’t hate them but she found them so inconvenient.

Nesta had settled at her dressing table when her door opened following a knock. A head peeked round, long ruby-red hair streaming downwards. One of the fae Nesta did like.

“Nesta?”

“I’m here.”

“Viviane said she’s going to turn a portion of the Sidra into an ice rink later, fancy coming? I might also take an ice-dive. Good for the pores!”

Gwyn, the production assistant at the Velaris City Ballet Company was fae but was classified as a water nymph. Nesta had only discovered this when they took a trip to Adriata the beach city the previous year for a ‘hot girl summer’ and she realised Gwyn had a set of gills accompanying her lungs.

Nesta met Gwyn’s eyes in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.

“What? I can’t help myself; you know that. I take it the ice-rink is a no?”

Nesta shook her head in response as she began on her hair but smiled. Despite herself she really did like Gwyn and Viviane, and a lot of the production company too even though the company was riddled with nepotism and bias.

Few humans managed to win a place in the ballet. Arts and creative pursuits were hard to break into when you were auditioning against fae. The only reason Nesta was as successful as she had been was because of that drop of magical blood.

She reached for the headdress resting next to her make-up. The Solmas production was The Nutcracker which their performance director, Eris had choreographed and screamed over for weeks.

“Tchaikovsky was a close, personal friend of mine,” he’d bragged. “He was fae of course, well – half-fae, but then no one can be perfect.”

Nesta had rolled her eyes and ignored Eris’ glare, not at all intimidated since they both discovered she immune to glamours and spells.

Nesta hadn’t been able to score the prima ballerina role for the production but then she hadn’t for years. How can a human compete with fae who spun in the air and flew on invisible, gossamer wings?

She’d auditioned for the role of Sugar Plum Fairy and wasn’t offered the position on account of the actual fairies also auditioning. If Nesta had managed to win the role then she wouldn’t have lasted a week before a surprise accident befell her, regardless of the amount of protection charms she wore.

The role she had won suited her fine, the dance being one of her favourites – the Illyrian dance. The steps weren’t complex but the performance was all about attitude and frankly, Nesta had that in spades.

When she’d been offered the dance, Gwyn took her aside in the corridor, a frown on her face. “Are you sure you want to perform this Nesta?”

“I know what you’re going to say, the dance should have gone to an Illyrian and you’re right – it should have. I’ve been trying to petition Eris for years now about Illyrian ballerinas but he’s always up to his typical high-fae purist bullshit.”

Gwyn had given a nervous laugh and looked around them, making sure Eris wouldn’t somehow leap out of the wall at the comment. It was a fair suspicion; he’d done it to performers before if they had any critique of him to say.

“Just do the dance cultural justice.”

Nesta swore she would.

On the scale of species hierarchy, full humans remained at the bottom. They were aging mortals with no magic and poor immune systems. The fae laughed themselves silly at the concept of chicken pox and the common cold. However, it didn’t mean every fae species was revered.

High fae like Eris were basically royalty while lesser fae were their middle-class cousins. Nymphs were considered useful and the majority of other fae fell someplace in between.

Illyrians were almost a side step from the hierarchy.

As a species they were immortal, eternally youthful and ripe with magic as powerful as some of the high fae. Some of their bodies were like machines with what they did with them and they would have been able to perform ballet for days on end without breaking.

They also had those vast jet-black wings which were terrifying and enthralling at the same time. It was a shame Illyrian Air didn’t do well, but then there were far too many customer service issues.

The only reason they weren’t on par with the high-fae (in the eyes of the high-fae) was that they weren’t elegant enough. They moved with a violence underneath the surface of their flesh like their blood was fire.

They also had complex histories which no one understood because Illyrians refused to discuss anything about Illyria and their heritage with anyone who wasn’t an Illyrian.

She once asked Feyre about them to be told Illyrians had spent their entire lifetimes being looked down upon by other fae so when those same fae demanded Illyrian secrets, they refused to comply.

Feyre had said, “Cassian told me, ‘Why should we give them anything when we have to fight for everything,’” and Nesta conceded he had a point. Possibly the only point Cassian had ever had but a point nonetheless.

Why was she thinking all this now? Why was she thinking of her baby sister’s stupid friends? She knew very well why.

Gwyn had stepped into Nesta’s dressing room. “Isn’t tonight when your sister and her friends are coming to the show?”

Yes, that was why.

Gwyn leant against the wall, in Nesta’s line of sight in the mirror and Nesta shrugged keeping her voice nonchalant. “Yes, unfortunately.”

It wasn’t unfortunate Feyre was coming, Feyre who loved anything to do with art and ballet but Nesta wasn’t looking forward to the rest. Rhys, Feyre’s half high-fae, half Illyrian boyfriend had all the arrogant superiority of the high-fae and the volatility of the Illyrians with none of the manners.

Nesta was painfully aware Rhys didn’t like her.

The rest of the group were also non-human with Feyre seemingly abandoning humans completely, preferring the exclusive company of Rhys circle of fae friends. Elain was the opposite, living outside the walls of the city in her cottage, wanting nothing to do with fae at all.

Feyre had told Rhys a bunch of stories from their childhood and Rhys didn’t quite comprehend how human sisters worked, didn’t quite comprehend how complex their relationship had been.

The spit of magic in their blood had made things all the more difficult as humans were not the best containers for magic. In Nesta’s eyes what made it worse were all the tattoos Feyre had inked into her skin; amplifiers mostly.

Anger had been born from Nesta’s worry and her worry was from her love.

Feyre understood the root cause of Nesta’s peevishness even if she didn’t like it but Rhys saw disapproval and returned it in kind.

At the thought of some of the attendees Nesta’s heart started doing something change, fluttering away like it was a bird trapped in a cage. She remembered when Ianthe, one of the ensemble, had shown them the pet bird she’d brought.

“Isn’t it lovely?” she’d said, her eyes glittering as her fingernails grew sharp. “Such a pretty pet for me to love.”

Nesta remembered the poor thing desperately trying to fly out of its cage, smashing its wings and beak against the bars.

Ianthe ended up eating it. She’d sobbed she hadn’t meant to but she hadn’t grabbed her protein bar that morning when she’d left her apartment and she was starving.

They couldn’t help it; it was in their nature to consume. The fae were like locusts that way, consuming land, lives, birds. Hearts.

Gwyn’s smile at Nesta’s response stretched into one which took up most of her face and Nesta refrained from shuddering. Nymph embodied the gentle and the harsh of their element. Water nymphs had the ability to be as tranquil and soft as summer rain or as vicious and deadly as a shark in deep water.

“Uh-huh. Will Cassian be attending?”

“I don’t know, probably.”

“Are you nervous about doing the Illyrian dance in front of Illyrians?”

Yes. Terrified.

“No,” she said, “I’ve done my research.”

Eris’ choreography for the dance was lazy and aggressive, rooted in his high-fae misperceptions of Illyrian culture. Nesta convinced Eris to let her put together her own steps and when he let her, not giving a damn about the dance, Nesta sought out the sole Illyrian choreographer in Velaris - a woman named Emerie.

At least the dance would contain authentic steps, she’d just never performed it in front of any Illyrians who weren’t Emerie before.

Gwyn’s grin was still wide.

“Oh, go away would you,” Nesta said with a scowl. “I need to focus before the matinee.”

Gwyn laughed at Nesta’s scowl and Nesta knew Gwyn understood Nesta’s words were harsh but her meaning wasn’t.

“Fine, fine. I’ll see you later, my little witchy dancer.”

Nesta glared at her friends departing back. I’m not a witch, she wanted to say, just a human whose great grandma caught the eye of a high-fae and had at it.

The matinee performance went well. Performances at the Velaris City Ballet Company always went well. The city made it so, drawing in an audience like moths to lamplight.

For all its splendour, Velaris was ancient and small. What was once a human village at the base of the mountains with the Sidra River running wild aside it, grew in population and glamour once the fae came pushing through the veil.

Human technology and fae magic combined to turn the place into something unique which rippled out to other human towns and dwellings but Velaris remained the first and the original.

While other cities grew, Velaris kept its quaintness. Old buildings built from red stone were covered with trailing ivy which bloomed with different flowers depending on the inhabitants’ moods. Rooms would change their size and shape according to the number of people within and wallpapers would shift when required to become something new. A piece of furniture could be a chaise longue in the morning and a mahogany dresser by nightfall.

Outside was no different. The cobbled side streets were slightly off kilter and you could look back, having walked up a steep street only to realise the path you’d walked was now heading a different direction and upwards, not down.

The ballet house was one of the oldest buildings and contained concentrated magic the way a bottle contained liquid. It also meant, much like liquid, if the bottle was shaken then there would be spillage.

Truth told; they’d had some difficulties with previous performances.

The first performance of Sleeping Beauty had left the majority of the audience passed out in their red velvet chairs while thickets of thorns grew up from the stage floor, encompassing the dancers. Nesta had to hack through several vines to reach her dressing room to grab her apartment keys.

The Snow Queen last Solmas followed suit. Viviane had been their prima ballerina that year and was in her utmost element. That had been the worst winter Velaris had ever experienced with uncharacteristic heavy snowfalls and biting frosts. The less said about the temporary missing children and ominous women in sleighs, the better.

Aside from when Eris turned actual rats into human sized dancers and the whole city was put into a three-day long lockdown while fae exterminators went to work, The Nutcracker was going fairly well.

Magic whirled the audience through each act and they heard and tasted and smelt everything being shown to them. Music would drift into their ears as performers danced fluidly across the stage. Some of the audience sobbed, overcome by the magic which sank into their skin.

The experience took some time to get used to if you were human. The first time Nesta had performed ballet in Velaris she was dizzy with nausea and slick with sweat. Now she even managed to use some of her own dormant abilities to counter the effects, or even to add in some of her own.

Before the evening performance began, her phone beeped with a message from Feyre.

Can’t wait to see you dance! Catch up with you afterwards!

Nesta groaned. She’d agreed to go for a drink at the in-house bar with Feyre and the rest but now she wished she was going straight home.

The stage melted away from the dance before hers into Nesta’s scenery as she waited in the wings for her cue. She eyed up the boxes, knowing Rhys had sponsored one for Feyre but didn’t have a clue which one.

The Illyrian dance had a sparse stage, to demonstrate the Illyrian steppes but the painted backdrop was one of Ramiel, the revered Illyrian mountain. Despite the sparsity, the set pulsed with a dry heat; the scent of crackling wood fire and spice filling the air, the sensation of warm winds tickling her skin.

When the music started, she danced on, determined to prove to Illyrian eyes in the audience she would do it justice.

Nesta drew on the same magic which ran in Feyre and Elain’s bones, the same magic Feyre had permanently etched on the surface of her skin. When Nesta leapt, she cast imaginary wings on her back which carried her further forward and higher. When she pirouetted, she was spinning on ice. Her arms were graceful and her legs sharp.

Nesta formed herself into a blade of dance as she undulated her hips and curved her spine. She swore the heat under her skin caused the air to burn around her.

She finished to rapturous applause and resisted eyeing up the boxes again although she wanted to know if any particular hands were clapping.

In the wings Gwyn was waiting and handed her a towel and Nesta realised she was glistening with sweat, droplets highlighting her cleavage.

“Very nice,” Gwyn said, clapping. “A small fire broke out in one of the stalls.”

Before Nesta said anything, Eris walked by with a low whistle. “Great performance, Nesta. I now have a raging boner.”

The women shrieked in disgust and Nesta threw her towel at him. “Animal.”

Eris grinned, “You know it” and his eyes shone as he caught the towel. Nesta made a mental note to ask Elain for more rowan to put around her dressing room door.

Nesta watched the rest of the performances from the wings until curtain close. Usually she never dawdled, always wanting to remove her costume and dress into civilian clothes as quick as possible but tonight she took her time, idly drawing out each minute until she couldn’t avoid her fate forever.

Audience members with children, fae or human often left first, clearing the way for those who wanted to remain behind in the theatre bar. When the fae discovered alcohol a new set of problems arose. Regardless of what species you were, once you were drunk you did stupid things.

The bar was below ground level and took up a vast amount of space. Overstuffed seating was positioned around tables in compartments, each draped with their own set of thick, crimson red curtains with gold tassels. If the occupants wanted privacy, then they had it.

Nesta shimmied past groups; fae, human and mixed, who laughed and clinked their champagne flutes, none recognising her as a dancer they’d watched earlier.

Feyre was likely to have a private booth booked along with the theatre box as Rhys had so much gold he likely melted it down and bathed in it. The last time Nesta met up with Feyre, her little sister had been wearing a diamond encrusted corset top.

Ahead of her stood two figures, both leaning against the open fronted bar and deep in conversation. Cassian and Azriel. No one was able to miss them even if they tried to blend in. Illyrians were known for their size and their wings and not exactly known for their love of ballet.

Almost as though he sensed her arrival, Cassian stopped talking and turned, strands of his black hair falling from his messy bun. Her eyes met his and she felt how she always did whenever they glanced at each other – a little bit anxious, a little bit horny and a little bit excited.

Nesta was worried if she opened her mouth, a thousand butterflies would float upwards from her stomach.

The look on his face, one she couldn’t place, slipped into something familiar as she drew nearer. Cassian smirked at her and followed it up with a slow, obvious glance from head to toe.

“Hello, Nesta.” He drawled his words, husky and deep. His voice was a baritone which always had her itching to dance across his words. Illyrian magic wasn’t the strongest but those who wielded it were.

What Illyrians wielded their magic for was anyone’s guess but if she had to, Nesta would have guessed it was for making panties drop if the turning heads of the crowd and little sighs was any indication.

There had been occasions where she too was driven with the need to show him more skin of hers then he deserved, to beg him to lay her down and cover her body in honey before licking it off with rasps of his tongue.

Must have been magic.

“Cassian,” she said with barely a nod and turned to his companion. “Azriel.”

Azriel nodded back a polite hello while Cassian leant against the bar directly facing her, wearing a grin as sharkish as Gwyn’s. She was like a lamb on the ground being circled by a taloned beast.

“Interesting performance.”

Azriel coughed at Cassian’s words, spluttering on the beer he was drinking and Nesta frowned, heat flooding her cheeks. Was he mocking her?

If he was, she wouldn’t give his smugly handsome self the satisfaction of getting to her and instead she ignored his words asking who else was here and where her sister was.

“Feyre, Rhys, Az and me. Amren came to watch the ballet but didn’t stay for drinks.”

“And where’s my sister and Rhys now?”

Cassian jerked his head over to the direction of the compartments. “They’re having a private ‘conversation’ behind closed curtains.”

Nesta’s face twisted in disgust. Fucking fae. Always fucking.

“Why didn’t Amren stay?”

“She never sticks around after The Nutcracker. Says it’s derogatory and insulting and she only comes to refill her well of rage.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, what was it she said Az? That the performances were brimming with cultural appropriation?”

The heat on Nesta’s cheeks turned into furnace. It wasn’t as though Cassian explicitly referred to Nesta’s performance but his words had to crawled under her skin. Feyre’s fae friends weren’t fans of Nesta’s, not after Rhys had spilled to them everything Feyre had told him.

For a group so ancient, they acted like spoilt human teenagers. Nesta would take the high road and try and find dignity in silence.

The bartender brought out another beer for Azriel and a glass of dark liquor for Cassian. A glass of wine from the Rosehall vineyard was handed to her and she was surprised someone had the foresight to order for her before she arrived, and with her favourite drink.

“Did you not like it then?” Nesta asked after taking a sip, her voice light. Azriel coughed again and this time Cassian shot him a glare, his rough-hewn face growing solemn before sliding into his more casual expression.

“There were some authentic Illyrian steps involved which is impressive. Didn’t realise old Eris had it in him.”

“It wasn’t Eris,” Nesta said, “It was me. I found an Illyrian choreographer in the city and she taught me some steps.”

Cassian’s face stilled for a moment, motionless like stone before letting out a roaring laugh which reverberated around the bar. The lesser fae behind him jumped and splashed his drink on the counter, quivering in fright.

“Well, that explains it!”

Nesta’s flesh prickled, her skin chilling in the overly warm bar. Goodness knows what she’d been dancing. Some dance of self-mockery probably. Her throat was burning and she didn’t understand whether she was upset because she thought Emerie liked her or upset because Cassian had seen.

Nesta’s fingers clenched the stem of the wine glass and she took a gulp of her drink, downing almost half as her hand wavered and her eyes watered. Cassian immediately stopped grinning.

“It was a beautiful dance,” Azriel said from her right and she turned to him, his face serious. “Other performances of The Nutcracker have the Illyrian dance as the violent, hostile war dance. Yours was the best one I’ve seen. Cassian liked it very much.”

Nesta whispered her thanks, looking between the Illyrians standing at either side of her who were now glaring at each other. She was out-flanked next to their bulk and she wished her sister was done doing whatever the hell she was doing so Nesta could say her hellos and goodbyes and get out of there.

“There’s only one Illyrian choreographer in this city,” Cassian said, his voice softer as his fingers trailed around his glass rim. “No other Illyrian would ever bother with this place.”

Nesta looked around the theatre at its gilded gold décor and red curtains but somehow knew Cassian was referring to Velaris as a whole. Illyrians never came to the city to visit, let alone live.

She glanced at him and found his smile was gentler and his hazel eyes, which always bordered on lascivious, were kinder somehow. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to mock her, perhaps he realised his raucous laughter had hurt.

He had no reason to care if he’d hurt her feelings and she shouldn’t have cared either but there had been a sting to his words which sunk deeper than she’d liked. She wasn’t opposed if he wanted to soothe over his words.

But she wasn’t about to let him know that. Instead, she fixed a bored expression onto her face. “Oh,” she said, looking into her glass as she swirled her wine around, “and who would that be?”

Cassian, still leaning against the bar, mirrored her by looking into his own glass before taking a sip.

“A friend of mine from the old country moved here a couple of years ago because her attempt at bringing ballet into the township was less than successful. You know her human name as Emerie.”

Cassian was still leaning against the bar, now looking into his own deep amber coloured liquid before taking a sip.

Nesta’s head snapped up to find Cassian now looking intently at her. “Yes, that’s her.”

“Figured,” Cassian said with a chuckle and took another long sip.

His mood seemed less jovial than before, more pensive and Nesta glanced around to discover Azriel had gone from her side. She looked around the crowds but didn’t see sight of him. How she lost an Illyrian of his stature she didn’t know but when she whipped her head around to the booth Cassian gestured towards earlier, the curtains were still closed.

She didn’t even have it in her to be irritated. The whole night was a wash-out and because of the stupid enchanted horse incident earlier closing streets, she was now adding additional time to her walk home.

“Well, then,” she said. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired; I have another two performances tomorrow and I want to head out and avoid any festive idiots.”

Cassian stood upright, alert and facing her, his glass sloshing the liquid violently as he placed it back onto the bar a little too hard. His wings flexed. “You haven’t seen Feyre yet.”

“If Feyre wanted to catch up with me then she wouldn’t be playing hide the fae penis with her boyfriend right now.” Her tone was sharp and she glared at Cassian. “It doesn’t take much to say a quick hello to your sister.”

Did Nesta care if Cassian thought her rude? Not a fucking bit. Despite Elain living an hour outside the city and Feyre only living on the other side, a journey which took less than a minute travelling by Winnow Express, Feyre was the sister Nesta saw the least.

“If she comes out at any point,” Nesta continued, “tell her I’ll call her.”

It wasn’t a lie when she said she was tired. Two performances a day took it out of her let alone when magic clung in the air at Solmas and let alone the fact that Nesta had used a tiny amount of her own as some kind of performance enhancer.

Whatever energy reserves she had was depleted, the glass of wine making her feel like she’d drank the entire bottle.

Nesta didn’t bother saying goodbye to Cassian, just left her empty glass on the counter and spun around.

Being a ballerina was on her side as she wove through the crowd and up into the foyer which was blissfully empty. Sadly, the world outside the doors was not so much and Nesta took a breath before wrapping herself in her stole.

The statues guarding the entrance waved her a goodbye, one with a human Santa hat adorning its head and the other with a fae garland wrapped around its waist. Nesta rolled her eyes. Human and fae decorations were put on everything so management could say they’d met their Equal Opportunities criteria.

Nesta stepped onto the pavement and looked down the street of the theatre district.

She couldn’t deny Velaris at night was beautiful.

History books stated the first fae who settled in the city were night dwellers and while they were able to survive in the sun, it was under the starlit sky where they thrived. So, the stories went that they made the night spectacular.

The ink black sky was painted with whorls of galaxies and splashed with stars. At first glance everything appeared white but when Nesta looked closer it was clear they were silver and gold and the purest, palest blue.

Feyre had once told her fae eyes saw more colours than humans and the stars were a multitude of colours – the rainbow and beyond. One of Feyre’s tattoos was designed to allow her to see what the fae saw.

The theatre district was still buzzing with humans and fae alike. Because of the nature of the city, it was usual for the streets to be filled until the early hours of the morning and after any performance in the theatre district there was no time for relaxing.

There was always residual magic left over from the ballet. The ballet theatre was the largest of the theatre buildings and so the magic started strongest at the end Nesta now stood before dissipating the further away you walked.

Snowflakes and flowers alike drifted down from the empty, cloudless sky. The Waltz of the Snowflakes and the Waltz of the Flowers often combatted against each other for prominence in their audience’s minds and refused to give in to each even after the show was done.

Thankfully, the Land of the Sweets didn’t involve themselves in this battle. They had done one performance many weeks ago and when chocolate rained from the sky it was delightful. Boiling hot coffee? Not so much.

Nesta navigated her way though the cobbles and crowds as petals landed in her hair and snowflakes melted on her eyelashes. She heaved a sigh of relief when she made it to the end past the gathered individuals who spilled out of the smaller theatres and theatre bars.

She turned left to go into a side street and stopped, almost tripping over her own feet.

Leaning against the wall, silhouetted against the streetlamps and fae lights was the hulking shape of an Illyrian.

“What are you-? How did you-?”

Cassian laughed as he used his elbow to propel himself from the wall and stride towards her. “What am I doing here and how did I get here so fast?”

“Well... yeah.”

“Wings,” he said, jabbing his thumbs in the direction behind him. “They come in useful from time to time. I thought I would fly you home.”

Nesta eyed up the wings behind him, remembering all the news reports of Illyrian Air. “No thank you, I like the walk.”

“Ok, then I’ll walk with you. Make sure you get home safe.”

She frowned. Nesta had lived in this city all her life and despite the occasional fae related incident which was brought on by personal vendetta, unavoidable prophecy from birth or magic spell gone wrong, Velaris was a safe place.  

It also helped that Nesta had that splash of fae blood herself and a glare which froze bones. Literally. There had been an incident with an ex-boyfriend but she’d filed an explanation with the police and it was never brought up again.  

“I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t need babysitting.”

“I know you don’t but I’d still like to walk you. Please.” The last word was said so softly she almost didn’t hear it but she caught the imploration.

Cassian stepped further into the light of a streetlamp, a few pale pink petals falling from his shoulders, desperation in his eyes.

Nesta sighed. “Fine, but I’m on the other side of the Sidra. The quickest route is over Mermaid Bridge.”

Cassian paused for a moment, “Mermaid Bridge? There won’t be any actual mermaids on it right?”

“Not at this time of year, the water’s too cold and they travel south.”

“Thank god, one of my ex’s was a mermaid. They are terrifying.”

Nesta shook her head, not able to imagine a creature of his size being scared of anything. They started walking in companionable silence. The further away from the city centre they strode, the more the crowds thinned.

Some shops remained open, including the café Nesta sat in earlier and groups had gathered around tables to laugh over mugs of frothy hot chocolate which overflowed with cream. Cinnamon, gingerbread, and candy cane scented the air.

As they walked, humans and fae alike paled when they crossed paths with Cassian and many darted out of his way. One lesser fae flattened himself against the red brick wall while another gave a quiet yelp and ran down an alley.

Nesta glanced up at Cassian but either he was pretending he didn’t notice the running onlookers or he didn’t care.

“What do you do?” she asked. She knew nothing about any of Feyre’s friends in any detail. “For that matter what do any of you do?”

Cassian laughed. “Rhys has a lot of inherited wealth, Amren trades precious stones – we think from the old dragon mines, and no one has a clue what Azriel does. I’m a bounty hunter.”

Oh.

“Caught anyone I’d have heard of?”

“Heard of the Tooth Fairy?”

Nesta grimaced, quickly swooping her tongue over her teeth. “Yes.”

“He was one of mine. So was the Bone Carver, the Weaver and Lanthys.”

Nesta’s eyebrows shot up. “Lanthys? The gold miner? What did he do? Wait, I don’t want to know. He asked me out once.”

Cassian glanced over at her; his own eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Did you say yes?”

Nesta pulled a face. “Good grief, no. He kept sending me telepathic dick pics. It’s bad enough being sent dick pics across dating apps.”

They approached Mermaid Bridge, which was, as Nesta said, devoid of the creature it was named for. Lights twinkled on the other side of the city, the residential side where Nesta lived. There were shrieks of delight further up the river in the dark and Nesta wondered if Gwyn was ice-diving next to Viviane’s ice rink.

Cassian coughed. “You’re on dating apps?”

“Not many, I thought I’d give them a go. My sisters are busy, I only have a few friends and I need something other than work in my life.”

“Yeah, I understand. ‘All work and no play’ make Cassian a dull boy too. The play part of life is fun,” he looked at her from the side of his eye and winked.

Nesta felt the blush spread across her cheeks and she willed it down with whatever force she had left. She wasn’t a virgin so she wasn’t about to start blushing like one.

They climbed the steps to the bridge and walked across. Of all the bridges which connected the two halves of the city, this was Gwyn’s favourite. Nesta’s human eyes couldn’t pick out the colours at night but in the day the railings glittered gold and shimmered with turquoise gems.

“Do you date?” The words slipped out before she stopped them. “You mentioned a mermaid ex so....”

Cassian’s laugh was more a breath and he started to smooth down non-existent knots in his hair. “Yes. Well...no. I did but work is busy and I’m sort of interested in someone and I guess until I purge them from my system, I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“How long have you been interested in them?”

“A while.”

“Why don’t you ask them out rather than eradicate them from your options?”

Nesta wanted to slap herself in the face. Or pitch herself off the bridge into the black, ice-cold water. Even as she was speaking, she wanted to not be but it was as though her mouth and mind had fallen out and no longer wanted anything to do with each other.

Cassian shrugged, “I guess. They just never struck me as someone interested in dating fae.”

They came to the end of the bridge and Nesta looked upwards at the sky. On this side of the river without the city lights, the stars were clearer to her eyes, more defined. One shot across the sky.

“You should go for it,” Nesta said, “you might be surprised.”

“Maybe,” Cassian sighed. “She’s kind of intimidating though.”

“You’re over six foot tall with massive wings and can use magic. I’m sure you’re more intimidating.”

“Me? Nah, I’m sure she thinks I’m an oversized bat.”

Nesta cringed. Those had been her words once a couple of years ago when she was first introduced to Feyre’s new friendship group and the Illyrian’s within. She didn’t think they’d heard her say it but then again, fae hearing was something exceptional along with fae sight.

The streets they walked were now quieter, the hustle and bustle of the inner-city gone. The chill settled in easier on this side of the river and Nesta knew she’d wake to frost across her window panes in the morning.

They were silent until they reached her apartment building, halfway up one of the steepest lanes. It was a small four storey which wasn’t spacious or modern but it gave her brilliant view across the river and Velaris and most importantly, it was hers.

“This is me,” she said, stopping outside the steps leading to the red entrance door. “Thank you for walking me back.” It was on the tip of her tongue to invite Cassian in for coffee but she held back.

He smiled, his eyes warm and shining. “Honestly it was my pleasure.” He leant forward, the sheer bulk of him covering Nesta and for a moment she thought he would kiss her but instead he took her slim fingered hand in his larger one and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand.

“Goodnight,” he said, “I hope you have a good Solmas Day when it comes.”

Cassian was no ballet dancer but he sure moved like one, letting go of her hand and swivelling to face the direction they’d walked in from, marching down the slope of her street while Nesta stared at his retreating back.

He was clad in black and would have easily blended into his surroundings if not for the red jewels he wore at his wrists.

Nesta gaped down at the back of her hand, her mouth open. She still felt his lips, warm and soft, on her skin.

“Wait!”

Cassian turned back to face her, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry if my performance in the ballet was offensive.  I know Azriel said it was beautiful and that you liked it but if that was a lie to save my feelings, it’s ok. I went to Emerie because I wanted to make it authentic. I should have left it alone.”

Cassian smiled but it wasn’t mocking. He took a few steps back up the street towards her. “You know I said Emerie was a friend from the old country?”

Nesta nodded.

“She’s a really good friend. I like her a lot. She’s no nonsense with a great heart. I was trying to set her up with Rhys’ cousin Mor and in the process we got talking about dating and relationships and she asked if there was anyone, I was interested in. As it happens, I discovered this evening that she knows the person I was talking about. I’m sure she saw this as her opportunity to do some matchmaking of her own.”

“Oh,” Nesta said, her throat dry.

“Yeah. I also happened to tell her in one conversation I would be watching The Nutcracker this year on account of it being Solmas. So, there you go.”

The butterflies were flittering in Nesta’s stomach again and Cassian’s words were taking shape in her mind and building a story. “The steps Emerie taught me for the Illyrian dance – was that an invitation?”

Cassian’s smile stretched wide and he tilted his head back and laughed, the dark column of his throat shining in the starlight. “Oh yes, a very specific invitation. Emerie must have had the day of her life when she pieced everything together.”

The flittering in her stomach was now pooling in her chest. This type of conversation should have her fleeing up the steps and racing through the foyer until she threw herself into her cold bed to hide under the covers.

Nesta wanted to know what she’d inadvertently done without meaning to. Not that she minded whatever it was she’d done.

“What did I dance then, Cassian?” Her voice was lower than usual and rich like the overflowing cream in the café.

Cassian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hazel eyes were almost black. “The dance you performed half naked on a heated stage was most definitely an invitation, Nesta.” He smiled at her again, soft like before but there was something behind it. Suddenly he was a wolf and she the lamb again. He was all claws and teeth and animal.

A shiver of anticipation ran through her. Her pulse beating in her throat, drawing Cassian’s eye.

“Oh, Nesta,” Cassian said, his voice almost a growl. “You performed an Illyrian dance of seduction.”

[hotchley]

the date

Surprise! I’m on holiday now so I’m using the time to try and get some of my WIPs finished. This and yesterdays were the most done, so don’t expect too much from the next two weeks because I also do need to start doing my work.

The temptation to post a spoiler was almost overwhelming, but I refrained so now you get to read the whole mess in one go! Also, funny story, this had been sitting in my drafts since last year and I only just got around to finish it.

There is a happy, alternate ending. Let me know if you want to see it!

Trigger Warnings: references to child abuse and domestic violence, both characters have low self-esteem and negative perceptions of themselves

read on ao3!

It's too early for anyone else to be there. The entire BAU is on leave- and given how often that was interrupted, it makes sense for everyone to be enjoying it whilst it lasts, but it still shocks her to see the entire sixth floor empty.

Apart from one person.

Hotch is sitting behind his desk, dressed casually. It's strange to see him there, frowning over paperwork, wearing a pair of worn jeans and a fuzzy jumper. It makes him look younger. more like Jack’s dad than Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner and it tugs at something in Emily's heart.

She pushes the feeling away. That isn’t why she's here. It doesn’t matter that she is the only one- aside from Dave- that knows the way he rubs his thumb against his other fingers is a way to soothe himself, not an indication that he's lying. It doesn't matter that she knows what his tell is, or that the smile that had spread across his face when she told him it was a date made her heart flutter. It's irrelevant that he’d pulled her closer when they were dancing as though he was trying to convince himself she was real.

She's leaving. And he's with Beth. Beth, who she had only spoken to for a few minutes but had immediately loved. She is everything Hotch needs after the darkness of the past two years. And Emily can't resent her. Not for falling in love with Hotch and certainly not because he loves her back.

He isn't hers. Maybe he would've been. In a different life where his torso isn't a mess of scars left by the same serial killer that had put his wife in the ground, and her darkness was something that didn't stop her from loving others or cause fear, they would've been beautiful. A peaceful garden that made people smile and realise that there was still hope and a reason to carry on.

But it isn't a different life. They live in a world where you can't keep a photo of your loved one in your wallet in case it fell into the wrong hands, and where the phone ringing did not provoke an eye roll at the latest scam, but a cold dread that someone else they loved is dead or gone. They live in a world where she taints everything she touches- apart from him because he has always been darkness and what she doesn't understand was that her touch made flowers blossom where only weeds had ever lived in his ribcage- and a world where he cannot handle his own humanity.

She hasn't knocked before walking into his office since that case in Milwaukee, all those years ago. She thinks of the woman she had been then, but for once, it doesn't hurt. She is still that headstrong and fiesty agent, but she is also more open and trusting. Aaron had changed too. He'd gotten older and more tired. But he trusts her.

Enough that she doesn't need to knock before entering. It feels wrong though, to walk in unannounced. He would know immediately if she knocks that something is up, and she wants to cling to the feeling of home for a few more moments. She clears her throat instead. The smile that crosses her face when he looks up, slightly startled by her sudden appearance, was completely involuntary.

"Why are you doing paperwork?" she asks.

He sets it to the side, looking like a child that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "It's only going to pile up, so I thought I would get a head start."

"You deserve to take a break too," she chastises.

He looks down. "I know. Would you like to sit?"

She nods, taking the seat in front of his desk. When she looks at him, it is almost painful. Five years ago, he had called her into his office to snap at her. And she had hated him for it. She knew he was only pretending to not know where she'd gone for college. So she took the knife in her back and plunged it into his heart when she said he didn't trust women as much as men, despite knowing that wasn't true.

He doesn't trust anyone. How could he, when the very people that were meant to love him and keep him safe from the dark were the same monsters that emerged as the sun went down?

But he had looked younger then. Less tired by life and living. And she had been more hopeful. Not naive. She had never been naive. None of them had been. They'd never been given the chance to experience that feeling. But she'd had hope that they could save everyone.

And he hadn't been able to take that from her, but he watched as she slowly lost it. And she watched as he told the team he loved them in a thousand different ways. And she wondered how anyone could ever call him cold. He wasn't cold. Hotch did what it took to protect the honour of the BAU, but Aaron did what it took to keep his family together.

At some point, they had stopped fighting each other and started to blur the lines between friendship and more.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?" he asks.

She nods. "JJ deserves it. So does Will. Especially after everything that's happened."

Neither of them know what, but something happened when she was at the State Department. 

"We all deserve that," he says, almost too quietly for her to hear. One set of words that she cannot say threaten to fall from her mouth.

"Beth is lovely," she says instead. "What does Jack think of her?"

He smiles at the mention of his son. "She's one of his favourite people."

"That's lovely," she says, wondering why it was so difficult to speak to him. There were only two times their conversations had been this stilted: once when he started working for her mother, and once when she first joined the unit.

There's a sudden silence, and she stares past him and at the books lining his shelves. All the ones that could be seen were law-related. What few people knew was that at the very bottom of the shelf, where his desk and chair would cover it, he has books for Jack.

It had thrown her, the first time she'd seen them. She couldn't reconcile the image of Hotch and the image of Aaron. Now the two were interchangeable. Not that she ever actually called him Aaron. He would call her Emily like her name meant everything, but she was a coward. Aaron was too personal. 

She'd used his first name twice. Once after Haley's death, when she thought he would retire even though he would never be happy. Once after her own death, when she told him to burn in hell. She regretted that, even now, after forgiveness had been given.

"She deserves better than me. I know that. I think deep down, she knows that too but I just can't let her walk away from me, and I don't know why," he blurts out. Almost like he needed to say something, but everything else was either too personal or too neutral.

But she understands what he means. She always does.

"You need to convince yourself you can love someone without destroying them. You need a reason to look through case file after case file. You need to know that someone will be waiting when you come home, that this is not for nothing."

Aaron stares, and she swallows. It had been so long since she had been this vulnerable with him. Her bad day, when she had let herself feel after so long of not, felt like decades ago. And in some ways, it had been. She had bought and sold a house. He had crumbled and found love again.

"Emily, there is a reason for all of this. You just need to remember it. And some day, you will have someone waiting at home for you, I promise. Just give it time," he says. 

She smiles as he says her name. Ian had tainted it. But Aaron says it like it was something precious and beautiful. What she didn't understand was that, to him, it was. It always had been. It always would be, no matter what.

But then the rest of his words register and her smile fades. He already knows she's leaving, had known since she returned that it was only a matter of time. Foolishly he had hoped it would be far, far into the future, when his own health issues forced him to retire. That would be kind though. And the world had never been kind to either of them.

She would walk away now, even though she didn't want to, because she could not stand the memory of the last time she had been in that office. And he would stay, even though he couldn't, because he would not let the team lose yet another person.

"You know why I'm here, don't you?" she asks, thinking about their conversation the previous night. How it had been perfect, but a cloud shaped like goodbye had been hanging over them throughout the night. She supposed that was what life was though.

It didn't make it hurt any less when Dave forced her into Aaron's arms. He had smiled, that soft and gentle one that transformed him from Unit Chief into the man that knew far too much for his age. That still longed for a childhood.

She hadn't wanted to talk about work, or her departure or even Beth. Instead, she whispered to him about the time he had spent working for her mother, and how even then, his suits didn't fit properly. He responded by talking about the evenings they had spent together watching old reruns of the comedies from her childhood.

And it was nice.

And again, she wonders if she was doing the right thing.

"I have my suspicion," he says, trying to keep his tone light. He doesn't want Emily to regret anything. He doesn't want to influence her decision. But in the back of his mind, she's just another person leaving him. And he wonders if he would ever be good enough for anyone, and then he hates himself for thinking that because this wasn't about him.

It is about Emily. And her need for a fresh start.

"You want me to say it, don't you?" she isn't accusing him. She just needs to be sure.

"Need," he corrects. "I need you to say it."

But it isn't out of spite. Or anger. He just needs to know it was her choice. That he has nothing to do with it. That she doesn't blame him anymore. That the thing that had been building between them before- before Doyle, before Foyet made him too afraid to feel anything- has not been destroyed.

"I'm resigning from the BAU and moving to London," she says. Saying it out loud, for the first time, to him of all the people, made the situation so much real.

She hadn't fully processed that she had accepted Clyde's offer. She knew for a while that she would be leaving, but now, the full impact of it hit her. There would be no more crushing hugs from Derek in private after the cases that destroyed them both. No more little toys from Penelope stuffed into her top drawer to make her smile. 

No more Aaron seeking her out to ask her silly questions about foreign languages because Jack had expressed an interest in them. No more Aaron making sure she was fine by simply glancing in her direction. No more coffee on her desk after a difficult meeting that he would never confess to making, but which everyone knew was his doing. 

No more phone calls too early in the morning begging for a story, a joke, anything, to distract from the memory he had of her in the hospital after Doyle. 

No more them, messy and broken and damaged as they were.

He nods. The smile on his face is forced, and she can see him fighting back tears. He doesn’t want her to go. But he also knows that she needs to. She is doing what he had never been able to do: leave, before it all became too much and whatever life they still had left was permanently ruined.

 “You’ll take them by storm. Just like you did here,” he says.

She smiles slightly, thinking back once more to her earliest days. “Only there won’t be someone accusing me of being a spy for their boss, which really did define those first few months.”

She meant it as a joke. She really should have known better. He always took these things too literally, so afraid of the teasing disguising a genuine anger that would only come out hours later when he had forgotten the transgression.

“Emily, I never apologised for my actions, but I need you to know-”

“You have apologised. I don’t need to hear the words to know how sorry you are. Also, it wasn’t really misplaced distrust was it?”

“Still. I am sorry. For everything.”

He isn’t just talking about those early days, she suddenly realises. He was talking about everything, from Milwaukee to Benjamin Cyrus to Ian Doyle. She longs to reach across and take his hand, rubbing her own fingers over the skin that he was always worrying, but that isn’t her job anymore.

It never had been. Even if she had wanted it to be.

“So am I,” she says. “I miss the man you were when I first joined,” she adds without thinking.

He frowns, the furrow so much like the look Jack had given her when she told him the previous night that one day, he would also be old like his dad and her. It hurt, to see how similar they were. Maybe it was because, where Hotch had always hated looking like his father, Jack would love it.

“Why?” he asks, voice slightly hoarse. He's afraid of her answer.

“You had more faith in people and their goodness. More hope for the future. I don’t blame you for changing. Still, it was a beautiful belief to witness and be a part of.”

“Haley always gave me a reason to believe in goodness,” he confesses, fiddling with the pen he had set down the moment she walked in.  

“Perhaps Beth can give you some more,” she says, without a single hint of jealousy or anger. She has no right to either of those emotions. Women like her, women that only hurt the people they loved and who were harsh and cruel and rough around the edges did not get men like him. 

Men like Aaron got soft and gentle women who saw nothing but the best in everyone. It was the only way that they could carry on doing their jobs. The only way any of them could carry on looking into the abyss without flinching was by having something that would be their solace. Something or someone untouched by the horrors of the day and evil of the night.

He has found his solace. She is still searching. Because he cannot be her solace anymore. It isn’t fair to either of them. She's not going to make him choose between loving her and loving Beth. She knows that people could love more than one person, but he already felt guilty for still loving Haley. After everything else she had put him through, she couldn't put him through the pain of knowing that she had always loved him, had always known just what his lingering stares meant, but had just never found the right time to say it all.

"When I said she deserves better than me, I didn't just mean because I'm broken."

"Aaron, you aren't-"

"Stop, let me- let me finish. I am. I have been for a while now. Maybe I was never whole to begin with. I meant that I'm in love with someone else. I thought I was over it, but I wasn't, and it was only when we started dating that I realised."

"Nobody can fault you for still loving Haley. She was torn from you in the most horrific way possible, and if you still love her, that's okay. Your heart has always been too big for just one person."

"I'm not talking about Haley," he whispers. "I'm talking about you."

"Aaron." 

"I love you," he chokes out.

He can't. He can't love her. If he loves her, he will end up in a coffin, buried in the ground because she always kills the people that love her. If he loves her, the flowers in his heart that were finally blooming after Haley's death caused them all to wilt would be permanently destroyed.

He stares at her. She looks away. The look on his face is too real. Too much. If she looks at him, she would end up tearing up the resignation and phoning Clyde to say she couldn't do it. She believes that there was a universe in which she was strong enough to stay. A universe in which she was still beautiful.

But in the universe she lives in, she isn't. She is hardened by life and terrified of love. In the universe where Aaron only knows how to say I love you when everything else failes, who had only ever heard the words used out of fear, shouted by a desperate mother as her husband refused to have mercy, she has gone too long without speaking.

"Say something. Even if it's that you hate me and that I'm a terrible person. Or that I'm being cruel and unfair because I am. You're ready to leave and I shouldn't be ruining your fresh start like this but I just-"

"I love you too," she says.

His jaw drops. "Emily," he breathes.

"I- I love you. I don't know when it started or when I realised, but I love you. I have for a while. I just- I couldn't say anything."

"Why?"

The question catches her off-guard. "What?"

"Why do you love me?" 

He's not searching for a compliment. He genuinely wants to know why she- with her beauty and strength and power and loyalty and kindness- could ever love him. 

"For the same reason you hate yourself."

He laughs. "That's funny. In some twisted way, that's funny. I love you for the same reasons you hate yourself too."

She looks at him. Him, with his tired eyes and gentle smiles. With his twisted definition of love because nobody ever taught him what it really was. Who believed he had to be perfect, or else people would leave. Who led the team with such passion and loyalty because Haley's love terrified him, and it was easy to push her away. Him, who still does not know the difference between safety and happiness and who does not understand where kindness and love differ.

And she knows that she cannot do it. She is not strong enough to love him the way he needs. Maybe a few years ago. Maybe if this was a few years later. But time was a funny thing. It was always working against them.

"I love you," she repeats.

"You won't stay though, will you?" there is no anger in his voice. Just an acceptance she hates. He always accepts things far too easily. 

"I can't."

"I know. It's okay. I don't want you to have any regrets. About anything."

He stands, and she follows almost immediately, her body still attuned to his movements. When he walks around to stand in front of her, she wonders if this is the climax of their story. If this is the final moment, where the tension peaks, and everything ends happily.

When he was a child, he pretended his life was like the films he never got to watch in order to escape the reality of it. He eventually accepted that life did not always come with closure and sometimes loose ends could not be tied up.

He holds out his hand for her. "Agent Prentiss. I wish you all the best in the future."

She refuses to take his hand. "You don't want me to have regrets?"

He drops his hand back down by his side. "Of course not Em. Of course not."

Without giving herself time to think, she closes the gap between them and stands on her tip-toes. He doesn't pull away, but his breathing goes uneven as it catches in his throat. He looks down at the ground, unable to meet her eyes.

There is so much about him she wants to learn. So much she wants to memorise but she doesn't have time. So she presses one soft and gentle kiss to his forehead, smiling through the sadness as he relaxes into the touch with a shaky exhale.

He doesn't move. He can't. And so she steps away, clearing her throat, wiping away the tear that threatens to fall. 

"Goodbye Aaron," she says, his first name slipping out without her even realising she was saying it.

"You only ever call me Aaron when you're saying goodbye. I'm not sure whether it makes me hate or love my name more," he says.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry," she says instead. She doesn't want to think about the reasons he hates his name. Or the irony of it meaning exalted, when every single person that was meant to protect him failed.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to look back and smile. And be proud of the lives you saved, the family you found. I want you to remember that you made me a better man. That you were right. I wasn't alone."

"None of us were. Will you come and visit me? Maybe help me get settled?"

It is selfish to ask, but she never claimed to be good. Aaron believes she is, but she knows she isn't. 

"Of course I will," he promises. How can he not, when he blames himself for every single bad thing that had happened since she joined?

She gave him one final smile before closing the door behind her, ready to start a new life but still feeling like her heart had been torn from her chest. He watches her go, only falling to the ground to sob when the elevator doors close behind her one last time.

In the end, he does not visit. He gets as far as picking his seat, when he realises he cannot do it. He cannot see her. When he phones Derek, pleading for him to go instead, and to take Penelope so Emily cannot be angry, he doesn't even pretend to hide the fact that he has been crying.

Derek doesn't even hesitate. He just says he'll do it.

Emily hates Aaron for being too much of a coward to come and see her, even after he told her to not have any regrets. She hates herself more for not being able to see him when she hears about the emergency surgery. Saving JJ becomes her apology.

Still, it's not enough for her. Which is exactly why it's too much for him. Because even when they're stood across from each other, drinks in hand as they celebrate JJ's survival, they cannot be honest.

And then she leaves him again. He can't blame her.

He blames time. They never had enough. Or the right one. 

[ectora]

REVIEW 311

Screen time

Macy : 23m26s

Maggie : 20m07s

Mel : 18m25s

Harry : 13m20s

Abigael : 5m02s

Jordan : 4m28s

Here is a table with the details of the time shared

Opinions

In a general manner I enjoyed the episode. It was entertaining and well passed. I don’t think it was their strongest episode so far but it was an entertaining one. It finally started to connect the other characters to the main storyline but also felt almost like a filler for the sisters. I also think the show should have maybe showed more consequences and different good things for the sisters. Because except for Mel (and I’ll come back to that later), the good things that happened to Maggie and Macy are pretty normal. It’s not like Maggie didn’t work for that internship. It’s not like a free legal clinic would get bad press. Or that it can’t happen to be upgraded in a hotel. Like yes what happened to antonio and that old man was really bad but at the same time it just didn’t feel like the sisters were gaining that much from it. Maybe if they had sticked to only it being the consequences of what they had to do to get the allergy off or something, rather than good things that could have normally happened, happening. I’m not sure that nakes sense but well lmao

Positive points:

The perfecti. They’re actually really entertaining on screens and are just funny. I think they were a great idea and a good addition to the story. And I’m genuinely excited to see more of them and how they’re story is going to unfold.

Josefina getting her powers. I’m glad they ended up giving her her powers with “wakening spell” similar to the one the sisters needed when they became witches. I really like her powers as well it’s so fitting.

Macy smiling. I have my issues with how the whole thing happened and I’ll take about it later but I’m glad she was finally able to catch a break. The show is often giving her storylines without a lot of time for her to just breath and I’m glad she finally got the opportunity to do so.

Abigael and Jordan. Listen, I just have a soft spot for their friendship. I just enjoy watching them. Tbh they both have easy chemistry with everyone but these two together just gives me good vibes. I just like them together on screen. I also liked how absolutely soft he was with her. And how she easily recognise his qualities. I just love them individually and together.

Maggie finally getting some therapy. I’m glad they’re finally giving that to her. Now can they extend that to like ... literally every single one of their main characters cause they all need it.

Josefina and Mel. As always their scene were really enjoyable. I think it’s always nice to see Mel show other people magic isn’t their only power. And I like how it shows how understanding and empathetic Mel really can be.

Mel and Maggie. Once again, their bond is so sweet and feels very natural. I just love seeing them share normal sisterly moments.

Negative points :

those are only going to be the actual negative points I have. Others that are more like annoyance, I’ll put them with the remarks.

Ruby. I’m just tired of this show giving zero effort to that relationship. I’m a big time abimel shipper but the treatment they give melby is just disrespectful at this point. They had one little moment where they said “oh she isn’t here” and then that’s it. Not even pretending to be on the phone. Or a text message. Nada. This needs to be fixed. Either get on it or get rid of it. But enough. Especially when you compare it to how they treat the straights.

Abigael’s story. Apparently some people don’t make the connexion with self harm, but to me said connexion is pretty obvious. More and more obvious especially after last episode where they showed us Abigael hurting herself directly. It was graphic and kinda unnecessary imo. I think the story itself, of having Abigael’s sides fight each other is interesting but the way they approached it was very careless and if they continue being so adamant about showing us how broken abi is, they need to actually be careful how they handle this.

Things that just don’t make sense:

Did no one tell Maggie about Jordan being cured ? I’m so confused 😭

Mel. Again, is no one ever going to talk about the fact she never finished her phd in season 1 ? Or didn’t have any teaching experience. I know it’s a small things that’s probably never going to be brought up but it’s been nagging me djdhd

At the end of the episode when they go back to putting the egg, suddenly the air isn’t toxic anymore and it’s small but i realised right away and just haven’t been able to get it out of my head.

Same with Josefina and the book. Mel was right there. Couldn’t she have taken it ? 😭

Why did Harry and Macy took the portal to Paris ? Why just not orb.

I’m still confused by the whole demon trying to kill the witch side of Abby to be honest. Like I’m not sure how hurting her physical body is going to do anything ? Isnt her demon part gonna die too then ? Parker’s made more sense because it was like a sickness, you could say the magical cells were killing he humans ones or something. But here ? I’m confused.

Talking about demon abi, ... why this ugly ass dress. I understand the reason for different noticeable clothes but why does it need to be this ugly. Abigael Jameson-Caine is too fashionable for this.

The entire book of shadow thing like ? Did we just forgot Mel presented the book to Josefina the episode before ? Are we just erasing that from our memories ? What’s happening.

How they gonna freeze the therapist and then just leave a note like is she not supposed to unfreeze ? Maggie is just gonna be gone ? And with a sudden note on her laps ? What.

Remarks & speculations

Hacy. I don’t dislike the couple don’t get me wrong. I think they’re sweet. But the show focuses too much on that relationship. Macy barely feels like she has a story outside of it at this point. At least Harry has the whole white lighter thing but again the reason he wants to be mortal is Macy so ... if just feels like the show continues to centre these two characters toward each other first. However it was great to see Macy happy. But again like The sisters had one hug and then that was if.

I’m really sad we didn’t actually see Macy and Josefina interact. Or that we won’t see her reach them a bit more about her magic and the whole new side they don’t know about.

My babies in the tomb. I’m just really wondering what the deal with the perfecti. Are they so big on duality, good and bad that it’s to an extreme that is dangerous ? Abigael in some ways I can understand. She’s the demon overlord. She’s powerful. Her demon form tried to go after TCO. But Jordan ? Was he just a collateral damage ? Did they judge him bad because he was with abi ? Because he was cursed ? Or is it a plan they have that involved isolating TCO ? (I doubt it but still a possibility). I mean he was probably out there cause he was helping abi but then it being strong questions about the perfecti’s moralities and visions of the world. Cannot wait to see more.

Abigael was ... broken to say the least. Kudo to poppy for that, Abigael looked absolutely exhausted. You could feel the fear and exhaustion in everything she did. And I feel bad for her because she’s not only mentally exhausted but physically too. She can’t sleep safely. And I don’t know if everyone realised the level all this must have reached for Abigael to be ready to give up everything. Because she is different from the sisters on this, she grew up as a magical being. That has been her entire life. What has been defining her since birth. For her to be so ready to give everything up so she could finally just find some peace ... she’s literally at her limits.

Talking about abi. We know the sisters are gonna try to help Jordan in episode 13 but does that mean they don’t realise Jordan is gone until then ? So it’s easy to assume 312 will also have abi/jordy mostly and in the tomb. Speculations - if the synopsis of 312 is indeed about saving Jordan from the tomb and not something else - is that they’ll realise on site than Abigael is stuck too and will help her as well. Unless she does something good to help jordan and because of that they decided to get her out too. That could connect both story and have a start on the redemption.

Also while abi is gone are the demons just gonna wait around ? Like the fact they all just willingly followed her rules doesn’t seem realistic but even less when the girl is no where to be found.

I just want Mel to get a proper storyline. And Macy too. Maggie I feel is actually the best written one development wise out of all of them.

I think they brought the storyline of Harry being worried about his age and waiting to be mortal too early. He has a good ten years on Macy anyway. And they barely started dating. There are already a lot of things going on and I genuinely feel like they should have left that for next season at least.

Highlights

Maggie in therapy. “You seem like you have a lot of demons” “are you under a lot of stress” was genuinely funny. Maggie is so naturally funny I really love her for it.

Mel saying there isn’t another shoe to drop and demon Abigael saying hold me beer.

The dogs that does math. Don’t ask me why it’s just funny.

Josefina using her powers after realising she still has them

Macy’s face when Harry told her about becoming mortal as if he isn’t constantly talking about it djdhd

Abigael’s soft “jordy”

Celebrating later, running now

The entire witch ceremony at the end.

[worstloki]

What if Loki made scented candles, but like candles with oddly specific scents? I’m not entirely sure where this thought came from but I wanted to share it with you because I figure you’d appreciate it

Because I wanted to, I decided to write on this. You’re welcome.

---

While readying for his attack on New York - a location he had picked due to a very specific landmark that he believed ought to attract the heroes’ attention sooner rather than later- Loki finds himself with a rather large block of free time.

Leaving the SHIELD base with Clint and Selvig had, predictably, but also to his immense disappointment, proven to be an ingeniously efficient way to gain the required research and to amass enough villainous hands to actualise the equipment to open a portal; members of the spying business such as Barton do tend to have useful knowledge on a wonderfully large amount of people, especially of the opposing side, after all. 

Having been touched by the mind stone, Selvig carries out the scientific theory aspects of the wormhole generator without assistance. Hawkeye’s ability to successfully market a sales pitch that should not be appealing in the least (re: “trying to help an alien prince conquer the world, you interested?”, “I’ll owe you one if you can find the time to help build a portal machine to space” and “there’s free food in it for you if you join with no questions asked”) has resulted in enough people contributing to get the work done.

From there everyone began to organise themselves, and Loki had been thoroughly left with nothing to do. Nothing world-saving (or, as everyone else will insist, ‘world-dominating’) at least.

As is often with Loki, his best ideas occur when he is completely and utterly bored. And right then, sitting in the dark sipping on hot chocolate (yes, he had invested in a drink machine. He has employees and just because he may be perceived as such, he is not actually a monster. Not enough to say no to coffee for Barton.) he looked out at the assortment of people scurrying about to get work done, and he realised he was bored. It was nice of Clint to offer him the sweet drink, but he could not spend the next few days occupying himself with cocoa beverages.

Loki knew his physical capabilities were a bit tenuous at the moment and it would be unwise to take part in any activities that would take up too much energy, but sitting on a step in the dark watching his workers buzz about, helping simply because they could, Loki decided they should be rewarded with a token gift at the very least.

Sitting on a step in the dark Loki decided; using the smell of the sickeningly sweet drink to ground him to the present, using the heat of the mug in his palms to warm his hands, tracing the pattern on the painted ceramic to hide the slight tremors in his fingers that hadn’t seemed to be lessening despite having left the company of his extremely kind patrons a full day ago, with the taste of the flavoured milk on his tongue, Loki decided he would gift them each with something of equal value. Something that would calm their anxieties and ground them, give them warmth, and if he could figure out how, he would even get the candles to induce taste.

After a full five minutes combining a creation spell meant for refilling candelabras with one meant to draw on memories to scent the air Loki is able to create the first candle.

It is, in appearance, a regular wax candle; not unlike one expected to be found in a normal Midgardian store. After some thought he adds a casing made of green and black stained glass and places a gold bordered sticker reading “loki”.

When lit Loki knows the candle will not only warm the vicinity more than a single flickering flame ought to, but will also smell of and provide the comfort he felt as he drank the chocolatey beverage, to whomever lights the candle, for as long as the flame burns. The candle will also last a tad bit longer than regular candles and Loki sincerely hopes no one will notice something like that.

Such simple spells of creation should not require much time or effort to make on his part and the candles will provide the perfect personalised gift to thank the people working under him who for whatever reasons seem disinclined to accept monetary payment. It is, in his opinion, the ideal gift as it can be used for decorative or pragmatic purposes and can be theoretically placed anywhere and still induce the calming effect the scent will have.

He begins drafting ideas for memories he believes would be suited for each worker on a notepad he’d purchased on his way from escaping the SHIELD base.

His task force is not too large but considering moments which he would wish to share into each candle, moments which they would enjoy as much as himself, requires some thought. Despite the amount of thought he is putting into what smell different people would find comforting he assures himself that he is gifting these candles out of a sense of duty as it would be dishonourable not to pay the people who are genuinely helping him… for the sake of helping him. They are, after all, his workers, and only a portion of them even required the sceptre. Servitude should be rewarded, even if they refuse to be paid in cash or gold.

Despite not harbouring any care (not even a drop of care, honestly speaking) for the humans around him he spends most of the afternoon brainstorming smells and matching his people to experiences he thinks they would like.

---

After a quick walk around to gauge the rate at which progress is being made, he takes a seat on the side of the room and starts coaxing the first candle into existence. He is annoyed when he feels The Other pulling his attention, but projects himself away anyways as it would be quite rude to ignore. (And is quite mentally agitating to ignore.)

“The Chitauri grow restless.” The Other states.

Not even a hello? Loki thinks bitterly before replying: “Let them go at themselves - I will lead them into glorious battle.”

“Battle?” The Other all but spits, “Against the meagre might of Earth?”

“Glorious, not lengthy”, Loki assures him, wondering if The Other realises he is insulting the very reward Loki had agreed to (bargained for), before deciding that No, The Other wouldn’t recognise an insult if it slapped him across the astral plane. To prove his own point he continues, “…if your force is as formidable as you claim”.

“You question us? You question HIM? He, who put the sceptre in your hand, who gave you ancient knowledge and new purpose when you were cast out, defeated?”

Not at all, Loki thinks, in fact, I did not utter a single question.

Just to see how off-topic he could veer their conversation this time, he decides to reply with the first petty thought that comes to mind.

“I was a king! The rightful king of Asgard! Betrayed!” he yells, as he instead concentrates on the feeling of his feet sinking into white sand and the sharp smells of the salty expanses of water that appear in southern Alfheim during the rainier seasons.

He already decided he is got everything he was going to get out of this conversation, and so he continues creating the candle on Earth, paying only enough mind to keep the conversation going.

“Your ambition is little, born of childish need.” The Other reprimands, “We look beyond the Earth to greater worlds the Tesseract will unveil.”.

“You don't even have the Tesseract yet.” Loki points out, pointedly.

The issue with dividing your conscience is that sometimes you forget the brain to mouth filter needs to be left on.

When The Other moves as if to attack him for his insolence he makes sure to console the six-handed-one’s ego enough to not get him to dig into his brain and cause him pain with his mental capabilities. Limited though The Other’s mind-bending powers are, he would not allow himself to stop it because his flimsy cover of being on the dark side would be blown.

It would also be inconvenient for The Other to realise he was thinking of sandy beaches and only had 34% of himself paying attention to him while the other 66% was thinking about Alf beaches in the monsoon.

The rest of the conversation with The Other was unimportant, and as usual he was dismissed with a sharp pain in his head.

It did not matter. When he returned his full consciousness to himself, he grimaced for only a second before looking down at the unassuming candle laid before him. Its casing was of purple and black stained glass and there was a white label with fancy gold outline and the word “Barton” in black calligraphy.

---

By the time it was morning Loki had finished distributing the candles. He’d made 143 of them; one for everyone in his service, and 2 extras for the men that had broken down into tears and dropped their candles the first time around.

Apparently, though these people had joined him of their own volition, they were still people. Most of them had been driven to a negative lifestyle by their living conditions and society’s discrimination which apparently had no system in place to give hospitality to all who came under their governance and needed assistance.

He found himself wondering if he actually should try to take over this world; the planet is clearly in need of a central governing system to prevent all their internal spats. The fact that they could discriminate within their own species to such extents was shocking, even to Loki: even indecisive enough to contemplate what to wear weeks in advance as he tended to do, it had only taken him going through a few academic papers to come to the opinion of humans as monstrous. Not all of them, of course - only a select few were truly abhorrent, and yet what a select few they were.

No, he thought, even I would not be able to fix this mess without blood, sweat, and tears. Not that he cared for Earth or anyone else in the realm.

---

He lasted as long it took for Clint to say he had a plan before he succumbed and made everyone a spare candle. Just in case.

He would not want Hawkeye to miss the salty tang of air that would soothe his nerves and remind him of the softer sounds in the world when his hearing aids or childhood memories suddenly cropped up to trouble him. He would not want Samson to miss out on the sensation of Asgard’s warm sunlight brushing his skin on a day when his terminal illness sent his chill bone deep. He wouldn’t want to deprive Demerton the smell of grass and the feeling of happiness Loki had felt when he tried to throw a knife onto the target and for the first time it actually landed – not that Demerton needed to know the unimportant details about the self-esteem boost –with his image issues the feeling would be something he needed.

Loki would not want his gifts to go unused simply because one of the foolish mortals managed to break their candle before they got the chance to light it.

“Tell me what you need,” Loki had answered Barton.

As they worked through the plan together, Loki tried not to think about what good gifts he had come up with, and how generous he was to be bestowing not just one, but two of the candles onto each member of his misfit group of helpers. Not altruistically of course: he hoped his workers would gain him the favour of earth through the candles. Somehow.

---

Twenty minutes into being in a glass cage had Loki deciding that it would be wrong of him to simply abandon all who were helping him, especially since he was planning on being defeated. This was fine for himself since he had made the decision to take a role as a villain, but them? Not even one of them had been given a choice when the universe forced them out of their homes or jobs or family. With nothing else to turn to except a life of crime or death, of course they had decided to live. As someone who had once chosen the latter option, he could not simply abandon them.

He sent most of his consciousness to a building across from Stark’s with 72 floors. It was not as tall as Tony’s, but it did not need to be. While monitoring Earth in his preparations for coming to ‘take over’ the realm, he had taken the building for loan when it had been on sale around a year ago.

It had cost a hefty price since it was across The Stark Tower™ and had been built over land that had previously held a building that looked near as old as Odin, but the price was nothing to him. Not after he bought it with Stark’s money (and the billionaire fool had not even noticed since it did not dent his net-worth, not that he was complaining… Stark’s credit cards were useful).

For now, he sat in a glass cage clearly not built for him (they could never have predicted someone as glamourous as himself showing up in time to have built this). But he also stood in an apartment building kilometres away from the Helicarrier.

He walked around using powered gestures to renovate the building. He would leave behind enough for his group to have the choice between villainy and an honest living.

The hours passed and the Loki in the skyscraper (an adequate name for such buildings) had put together the most therapeutic and entertaining of centres; it had candles and spas and facilities for every relaxation method imaginable but combined the space with recreation for all ages with indoor water rides and arcades and laser tag.

The hours passed and the Loki in the glass cage hadn’t required any of his attention at all; he may have spoken to the Black Widow but with 12% of his consciousness holding the conversation he could not be sure his guise of genocidal maniac had held up – he honestly would’ve liked to meet her under different circumstances, but hoped she hadn’t been able to tell he wasn’t completely present when talking with him.

---

After a nice chat where he blatantly revealed to Stark that his plan had been to lose this entire time, Loki attacked New York. The battle, as he had promised The Other, had indeed been glorious and not lengthy, although anyone actually siding with the villains would disagree. Luckily, Loki was not actually siding with the villains and had no qualms about being smug in his victory (no matter what others thought this was).

Before he left the realm in chains, he had been sure to announce to his batch of subjects that each of them had a job available with Ikol Industries anytime. (Barton, Selvig, and the few others which had the mind stone’s influence upon them had of course been excluded from this job offer.).

Most of the people under him had accepted the deal happily. A lot had teared up about it. Some cried shamelessly. Even less had declined, but Loki had not wanted those spies to stick around anyways.

Loki may have ended up fighting the Avengers with a depleted amount of magic, but that did not matter. He had lost. Everything had gone according to plan.

He may have even left some unassuming therapy candles for each of the Avengers to indulge in, courtesy of Ikol Industries. Each in a glass cover with their colours with names in gold over a white label, it was not difficult to imagine the Avengers becoming regular customers and nicely asking if they had more of ‘their’ candles from those that had assisted him in his faux attack. They wouldn’t even be wrong in assuming the candles were theirs. Loki had themed a floor of relax and rec after each of the avengers and the scents they enjoyed were indeed always magically in stock.

As a keeper of secrets it was incredibly easy for him to inexplicably know what scent and sensations would calm their mind if they were ever in need; especially Banner, who would indeed find his special green candle strong enough to silence the Hulk within him. Tony would not find himself waking in the night in distress if he had a candle by his bedside. Steve would find the dull ache in his chest reduced even when he thought of the life he had left behind when he dove into the ice. Natasha would accept her past actions without any inflation of guilt if she lit the candle during her morning stretches. Clint would always know it was not his fault as the salty tang reinvigorated his senses and reminded him that he could not be blamed for a past he could not control and the lives he could not save. Thor’s candle had a green flame and smelt of his rooms on Asgard.

Perhaps their super-secret boy band would question the individualisation of the candles. Perhaps they would notice the candles lasting a tad bit longer than regular candles. Perhaps Stark being unable to read anything on the composition of the candles would be suspicious. Perhaps they would joke about Ikol Industries being ‘Loki’ Industries and would joke about the ridiculously badly thought-out palindrome and the magical voodoo of the candles which had no apparent source location but were never out of stock. Perhaps they would recognise the workers as previous criminals. Perhaps they would realise the decisions that led them to that life had been circumstantial. Perhaps they would follow their suspicions up and Loki would be unable to answer: either locked away in a cell or dead.

But for all the trouble Loki had caused and for those he had brought suffering upon - even if his intentions had been good - his calmest and happiest memories were the least he could leave behind this world to assist in their recovery.

[sapphicanarchist]

Actual review of She-Ra Season 5 (with major spoilers)

As you probably know from my timeline, the new season made me incredibly happy, and I loved every second.

However, there are some things I want to pick at (both at the things that I loved, and things that could have been done better)

Firstly, can I just say how much I loved Catra in this season?

I absolutely adored her. I loved her and Glimmer's relationship, I loved her apologizing to Entrapta, I loved every second of it.

However, I don't think she and Bow had an exactly realistic relationship. I don't mind because it gave us such absolute gems like him cooing over her sneeze, and pointing out how adorable her astronaut helmet was. And I loved the Best Friend Squad hugs, because I felt like Catra needed to be showered in love and attention more often.

But it would have been more realistic if she and Bow had a slight talk first. Nothing huge, just a 'I'm sorry for trying to kill you and everyone you love.' And Bow would be like, 'Nah, I trust Adora and Glimmer and they trust you.' Then it could have led into 'Besides, it's so hard staying mad at you with such a cute sneeze/helmet or whatever.' Then she would have bristled, Glimmer and Adora would have laughed. And it would have felt organic.

And the introduction of Melog! Pretty cool. It also made sense for Horde Prime to be defeated by wild magic, as Horde Prime's whole shtick was organized clinical science.

Spinnetossa got more screen time!!!!! They shone this season. They were sorta hinted at previously, and more of a background ship but this season was their absolute best.

I think it was especially heartbreaking how Netossa had to fight her wife on their anniversary. And how she had been looking for her? How her voice broke when she said 'So the only person I can fight... is my own wife.' My heart.

I cried.

I did wish we got to see more of other former background characters. Like: Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio. I missed them this season but hey, we got confirmation that Kyle liked Rogelio (which I totally called, just saying.)

I had some... negative feelings towards Mermista at first because of how she treated Entrapta but that too was incredibly realistic. That's the thing about She-Ra, they allow their characters to be angry. Especially as so much of them had so many reasons to be angry.

And my gay heart could not handle Scorpia and Mermista in Lipstick. I about died and went to heaven.

Shadow Weaver... oh what shall I say about Shadow Weaver. To be fair, I hated her for most of the series, because she is the major reason why Catra was so... damaged. But I think it was nice to see how she treated both characters together, even when they were on the same side. How she told Adora Catra was a distraction, and was trying to manipulate her into getting the code despite the effects. I liked that, because it gave us more insight into her character.

She was a Machiavellian character. She honestly believed she was helping Adora. She believed in what she was saying, and was using Adora (much like she previously used Micah) to get to the goal which she believed was right.

It made so much more sense now, looking at their reactions. Catra always had to protect Adora, not just from Shadow Weaver's abuse but from her ambition. And Adora, pure, sweet Adora was also damaged from this interactions. Shadow Weaver put so much on her, is it such an out-of-character development why she feels everything is her fault and launches at the nearest problem alone and without any regard for her life?

But all that aside, I am not ashamed to admit that I cried when Shadow Weaver died. She had fought for so long, on both sides. I knew her redemption arc had to end there if Catra had any shot at happiness, but at the same time... it was so sad. She sacrificed herself, just after finally given Catra as much closure she had left to give.

She dropped the mask, and we finally saw her face.

Wrong Hordak. I would have happily died for Wrong Hordak. Wrong Hordak was an absolute gem. His innocemce, his willingness to help, his naivety, his existential crisis. Wrong Hordak was my baby and I would totally die for him.

But it was also kind of bittersweet in a way. Because looking at Wrong Hordak, I realised that Hordak was also Wrong Hordak at a point. He had once been cut off completely from the Hive mind, had been as crushed and broken as Wrong Hordak ('I am alone'), and had immediately done, again like Wrong Hordak, what he believed Prime would want.

Let's talk about the ships.

From what I've heard, most people did not see Glimbow coming. Because they had strayed so far into the 'friendzone' it was hard to imagine them coming back from that. And I completely understand, but I also felt they were the best fit for each other.

They understood each other so fully, so completely. I cannot even conceive of anyone who could have come between them. They were It for the other. And the 'I love you's to me were a long time coming.

I think they were a bit overshadowed by the sheer rollercoaster that was Catradora, as they were more soft and sweet but I still loved it. And it was adorable.

Glimtra. Glimtra deserves a special mention because it was amazing this season. It was absolutely amazing.

Seamista. This ship has sailed so many times in my head that I kept forgetting it wasn't actually canon. Only Sea Hawk's annoyingness could break through Prime's control. And the blush at the end? And Mermista admitting she had set a boat on fire? And Sea Hawk's heart eyes after? Gosh, that 'I love you' had to come when it did or else my heart would have exploded already with all the heart eyes they were giving me.

I am kind of sad that Sea Bow wasn't so present in this season, as that was also a ship of mine. But I am very invested and gloriously happy with the endgame ships.

Catradora.

Oh my god Catradora.

Ahem, that kiss? That kiss people?? That kiss destroyed every remaining heterosexuality in my being. That kiss brought me closer to paradise. I screamed at my laptop. My heart did a jig in my chest. I was gloriously happy. I cannot emphasize how happy I was. I don't even have the words... Catra leaving? She will never want me how much I want her? It's not because I like you, while Melog (who we know is attuned to Catra's emotions) jumps all over Adora?? Melog, again, trying to drag her back?

Yes. Such Yes. I loved.

Scorfuma.

Look, I shipped Scorfuma the second she joined the princess alliance and Perfuma blushed. I did not expect how blessed I would be this season. I did not expect the dance, the desperation at which Perfuma tried to pull her back, the trust, the flower left behind, the 'you look... you look great.'

I did not expect how blessed I would be. Because Perfuma really brings out the best in Scorpia. And Scorpia deserves that. Scorpia deserves someone who seeks to raise her up because of her bucketload of insecurity issues.

Spinnetossa.

I have probably talked about Spinetossa before, but they were so domestic and sweet in this season. I can't believe they had to fight each other. I don't think I can go too deeply about it without crying. Because there were/are tears. Their dynamic... how Spinny was Netossa's weakness. The drawings. How Netossa sought out Spinnerella because 'you know I'm not so good with social situations'

That kiss at the end. I just. I sobbed.

And finally...

Entrapdak.

The absolute vindication and validation this season. I want to say suck it, antis but I also don't because I'm trying to be nice. We learn Entrapta went back to the fright zone for the LUVD crystal. We have her bypass all the beautiful tech she is surrounded with to go to the only dormant clone to check if it was Hordak. And the way she offers it up, how her eyes and voice goes soft as she asks if he remembers her. How she just goes straight back after he attacks her, and then we learn that she is keeping a list. She is actively searching for Hordak.

And on Hordak's part... he keeps the crystal. Even after he was wiped, then purified, he remembers Entrapta. He takes multiple chances under Prime's control. He even tries to access his memory while he believes Prime distracted, no matter how dangerous that was. Throughout the season, we keep seeing Hordak react to certain situations, we see his eyes widen when Prime announces their return to Etheria. We see him mirroring Entrapta's emotions when she is captured.

And back to Entrapta. There have been multiple metas about how Entrapta seems to have an aversion to touch, more often using her hair as stand-ins. Well... not around Hordak. She touches him. Whenever she is able to. They meet very few times but each time she is the one to initiate the touch. And the 'your imperfections are beautiful?' I just.

I do wish they had gotten more screen time though, and Horde Prime repossessing him right after Hordak had finally regained control was a bit anticlimatic.

Anyways.

There are also other things in the season that I adored. Like the religous analogies. How very... cult-like the Horde was. The purification rituals, the baptism, how everyone wore white.

Noelle did not hold anything back.

And this season showed it. A masterpiece.

[parvulous-writings]

David Stephens x Reader // SFW alphabet

Requested by: @peter-hughes-harmonies

Warnings: Insinuations of murder

Summary: SFW alphabet for David Stephens, from Shallow Grave. 

Notes: I enjoyed working on this very much! I know some sections are a little on the short side, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I was babbling on with everything! Enjoy! 

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

Typically, in front of others, David is not an affectionate guy. He’s practical, not sentimental.That is not to say of course, he doesn’t show affection at all. He just shows it in a different way to most. He’ll sit with you and watch some tv shows- though with him it’s more like critiquing sometimes.  In terms of physical affection, he’ll occasionally give brief kisses, and on rare occasions he’ll give you a warm hug. If he knows you’ve had a bad day at work, he’ll find you a little trinket to keep you amused or cheer you up, but he’d leave it on your nightstand rather than give it to you face to face. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He can very much be the stereotypical quiet friend sometimes. There of course are many occasions where he will pipe up with his own opinion on a subject- whether he agrees, disagrees, or sits on the fence. He’s actually got quite a knack for debating, which can lead to some very enlightening conversations about subjects you’d often think as incredibly boring.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He isn’t really that fussed on cuddles, in all honesty. He’ll give you one if you’ve had a hard day, but in a usual situation, it’s not really likely. He’s not exactly one for frequent physical contact. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

This man does do very well in the cleaning department, let’s give credit where credit is due. Cooking, however, that’s more left to Alex and occasionally Juliet. Settling down? Well, in his mind he sort of already has settled down. He’s got a steady job, a nice home, and you. Boom, he’s settled. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Oh boy, would David be a little too blunt about it. He does not see the point in trying to sugar coat anything in a situation like this, so he’ll just say it how it is. If it’s a problem with him, an issue with you, whatever it may be that caused the break up, he’d be the kind of man to say it outright to you. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

Once he’s entirely sure he can trust you with every little detail of his life, and he knows you can do the same for him, then yes. He’d love to marry you. He’s not fearful of commitment, after he warms up to the concept a little bit of course. 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Whilst he can be very closed off emotionally, during brief moments where he opens up, he can be incredibly gentle. It’s the same with the physical side of things too, unless he is angry or upset and becomes aggressive towards others.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

Like cuddles, he isn’t that fussed on them. He’ll give them if you’ve had a bad day or are quite clearly down in the dumps. There has been one or two occasions where he’s asked you for a hug, but he has never revealed the reason behind it to you. 

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

Not fast at all. (I mean faster than Alex probably would, but still, the man’s pretty closed off.) Though, when he does finally utter those words to you, quiet as they may be, he means them with every fibre of his heart. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Not that he’d ever admit it to you even when you ask, but he does get jealous. Very jealous. Remarkably jealous. Horrendously jealous, in fact. He’ll become completely and utterly silent for the next few days, not bringing it up, not even speaking to his flatmates or you.  Once, you saw someone reported missing, one who had spoken to you a few days prior, sparking David’s jealousy. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Brief. Almost always brief and fleeting. The corner of your mouth or you temple are his favourite places to kiss you, and his favourite place to be kissed is the cheek- simple, yet endearing. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

He’s largely indifferent towards children, neither liking them or disliking them. There’s not much else to say on this side of things. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Largely uneventful. Like every other morning, in a way. He’ll make you a cup of your favourite beverage for you, offer you a slice or two of toast, before he heads off to work. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Also, like the mornings, largely uneventful. You may all sit with Juliet and Alex, around the tv or playing a game with them on game night. Once you go to bed, he may read for a little while, but apart from that, nothing too much happens. It may seem boring to some, but David is honestly really happy with this part of his life. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

Almost never. He is not an open person.  However, there is one way you can get him to open up, if only for a few minutes. It usually only works in the early hours of the morning though, and you have to hold him incredibly close, and almost coax him to speak to you. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Inwardly he can be very easily angered, but, as mentioned many times, he’s closed off- good at masking his emotions. Outwardly, it takes a lot of annoyance or stress to make him snap. If he does snap though, he snaps hard. Just look at how he was with both Alex and Juliet at different points after Hugo’s passing- mental state aside. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers almost everything you tell him. You mention something off-handedly one night when you think he’s too focused on a book, and he’ll bring up or purchase something related to that thing a few weeks later. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He read one of his favourite books to you once, after you had pestered him about it for a solid three days. Though you found it boring and eventually fell asleep on his shoulder, he admired that you cared enough to bother him about it. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Super damn protective, even if you don’t realise it. He keeps a watchful eye on you almost every second of the day- through various methods, some darker than others. You’ve not brought it up with him yet, though. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

A fair amount- even though you yourself do not reap the benefits of said effort, nor are you aware that half of it is going on. But he does indeed try, Mr Stephens is not entirely heartless. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

David has a nasty tendency to jump to conclusions sometimes. He doesn’t always mean to- and it has caused a couple of arguments- but it has happened on more than one occasion. Him and Juliet are trying to work on that to help your relationship, and cause less fights. 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

No, I wouldn’t say that he’s a particularly vain man. He does dress well and keep himself groomed for the most part, though I would put that down more to profession and habit, rather than vanity. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would definitely feel something amiss without you around. Like his reaction to most negative things, he’d be eerily silent, retreating only to his thoughts and letting them slowly start to consume him in the process. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

He likes to watch you sleep when he can’t find rest. Sometimes it helps him to sleep, he finds it very soothing to see you in such a peaceful, almost perfect state of bliss, completely worry free and shielded from the horrors and stresses of day to day life. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

Someone who pries too much into his life or his mind. He’ll open up to you or someone else on his own, constant badgering about certain topics makes him clam up. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

David does not have a good sleeping pattern, and is often very restless. Though he goes to bed and switches out the light at the same time every night- like clockwork- it doesn’t seem to help. He’ll lie on his back for hours, his mind running rampant and torturing him with intrusive, and sometimes very concerning thoughts. 

[jamsiesir]

Wolfstar and 48 please ❤

I don’t know if it is what you had in mind when you asked me this, but I hope you’ll like it <3

----

Don't say we aren't right for each other. The way I see it, we aren't right for anyone else. 

TW: Underage drinking

Remus can’t sleep.

It’s been three days since Sirius snogged him, while they were hiding from Filch in one of the secret passages. It's been three days since he last slept, and seventy-two hours for him to avoid his friend as much as he can. 

To say that it's been difficult is an understatement: Sirius is everywhere. Starting from the bed right next to his own, to the seat beside him in the Great Hall - his life seems to be entwined with Sirius' and for the first time since he met him, Remus doesn't like it. 

Remus sighs, tossing and turning on his bed until he is caught in his own bed sheets. 

It's not like he is disgusted by the kiss: Remus would be a liar if he said that he didn't like it - hell, he loved it. Remus pushes his face into the pillow to suppress a frustrated groan. Sirius' lips were soft even if a bit chapped, and the way his tongue has licked Remus' palate still makes his toes curl. He has to bite the pillowcase to stop himself from remembering too much. 

Because Remus has loved kissing Sirius, making out with him until their mouths began to hurt - until it was too much, too intense, too… fuck. 

Remus sits at the center of the bed, legs and arms crossed, furious with his own mind. He can't let himself dwell on it: Remus has chosen to avoid Sirius for as long as it will take to forget about it. He will forget about it, Sirius will forget about it and things will be just like they have ever been. 

Yes. 

It's not a very Gryffindor thing to do, but it is better than facing the issue and telling Sirius that… that…

«Moony, are you sleeping?» Remus turns his head, looking at Sirius' face peeking in between the curtains. «Oh, you're awake!» he says, climbing into the bed without asking for permission. 

The werewolf looks at him in pure disbelief. «What are you doing here?»

«I brought firewhisky» the boy replies, showing the bottle he has hidden behind his back. «I don’t want to share it with James and Peter: they don’t know how to appreciate it.»

«...and I do» Remus says - the question mark at the end of the sentence is barely audible, but it’s enough to make him sound unsure.

«Yes, you do, Moons» Sirius answers, opening the bottle and taking a large gulp. «Fuck, it’s good» he sighs, the gives it to Remus, who looks at it and then back at the other wizard. The look Sirius gives him is one Remus can't resist: he thinks of something to say, something to talk about - he can't find anything, no matter how hard he tries. So, Remus takes a big sip and then gives it back. 

They spend the next minute passing the bottle back and forth, sitting with their backs pressed against Remus' headboard, shoulders touching briefly every time Sirius drinks. Remus can't really take it: the alcohol makes his head lighter with every gulp and some of the things he has wanted to say for the last three days come up to his throat, tickling his tongue. He has a list of reasons why they should forget the snogging affair that threatens to come out of his mouth - the word werewolf is listed at least twice, friends is the first and last, while marauders is on the list just once. There are other things: pros and cons, virtues and vices, his prefect status, the illegal animagus thing. Then, the we're both straight discourse, that is just one big lie but - he is too drunk to discuss their sexual orientation, so that's off from the list. 

«You know, Moony» Sirius says, when Remus is about to open his mouth. «I didn't come here to drink with you» he confesses, turning his face so that his grey eyes are staring right into Remus' green ones. 

«Didn't you?» he asks, hiding the I knew it that is dancing in his mind. 

Sirius hums and puts the half empty bottle on the bed, beside him. «I've come to pull a prongs on you.»

«To pull a prongs» Remus repeats, just to be sure - is he actually so drunk that he is hallucinating? 

«Yeah, like - you know, like the things Prongs does with Evans» Sirius explains, moving his hands around. «Listen,» he says, noticing Remus' confusion. «I know why you've been avoiding me, so - »

«I haven't - »

«Yes, you have and I should have known it» the boy utters, shaking his head. «You're Moony: that's what you do. Like when we told you we knew about your furry little problem and you avoided us for four days, before James and I were able to knock some reason into your head» he reminds him and Remus finds himself smiling at the memory. 

«I didn't.»

«Yes, you did. As I said, that's a very Moony thing to do» Sirius shrugs. «Anyway, since you're using a moony, I'll pull a prongs.»

«Pads, you're not making sense.»

«Moony» Sirius says, touching his shoulder with one of his hands. «Remus Lupin» his face is way too close. «I know you're listing in your head every kind of stupid reason we shouldn't keep on snogging until we're a pair of mushy things, so I'm gonna stop you right there» his hand is on Remus' cheekbone now - can he feel his heartbeat like this? «You are Remus and I am Sirius: you're a werewolf and I'm a dog animagus - hush, I know it's not the same thing, but it's romantic, Moony. I'm trying to be sappy, here» he stops, frowning. «We're best friends, and you are the most amazing person I've ever known - and that includes Dumbledore, Remus. Dumbledore.»

«Dumbledore is fucking amazing» Remus utters, not knowing what to say. 

«Yes, but you're more amazing than him. Sometimes, I think you may be too much for me to deserve, but it can't stop me from being in love with you.»

«Bloody Merlin, you are pulling a fucking prongs on me» he says, realising what the made up verb actually means. 

Sirius fakes annoyance at being interrupted and brings his hand on Remus' mouth. «So, Remus Lupin, stop being so Moony for a bit. Stop overthinking things, stop avoiding things that you want for yourself by pointing out every negative thing» he suggests, then pauses, eyes staring at Remus' mouth while he lets his thumb stroke the bottom lip. «Just for a second, when it's about me, stop thinking about consequences - stop and… » Sirius swallows and looks at him in the eyes. «Do what you want.»

Remus can't actually remember who closed the distance between their faces: he remembers kissing Sirius' thumb while they looked at each other, and then… 

Now, Sirius' lips are against his, and Remus' hands are stroking his friend's hair, pulling it a little when Sirius' tongue licks his palate, making him forget all about the list. 

This - this thing right here may be the definition of to pull a padfoot. 

[aestherians]

(warning: long ramble) I feel like this has been asked before but I can't find the right keywords to find it D: you seem knowledgable about the types of kin and copinglinks so--- do you know if it's possible that a fiction copinglink becomes a fiction kintype? Here are some of the experiences that made me ask:

1. I thought it was a coping thing, but now I'm talking about the character in 1st pov, can slip up sometimes without realising it. This didn't start intentionally, I didn't do that when I thought it was a copinglink, in fact I was intentionally trying to distance my self from the character - slip-ups like these came outta nowhere!

2. But what is me is messy now too - I've been feeling a disconnect with the personality that I thought was my true self. Not intentional this time. The character's personality feels like my true self, even though I know I don't relate to them. We're a bit of opposites even.

3. There's someone in the source that I miss, yet I wasn't feeling this homesick before I started a copinglink. I was neutral before!

(part 1/2)

(part 2/2) 4. Inhuman aspects of the character I copinglink with, are traits I don't usually relate to, except for when I was a kid and loved these traits. Yet now I feel phantom limbs and a great deal of rightness about those traits being mine.

5. Stuff that I thought  were deliberate theories, but when I think of them now,  that's where I slip up the most using 1st pov language. And  now it's hard to decide if they're elaborate theories that my mind crafts on the spot, or memories.

6. One of my recent dreams is being in the body of the character and it felt more right than my waking body.

7. The last straw before asking this is seeing myself in the mirror and being bombarded with species dysphoria for the first time. Particularly negative about being a human but I'm also feeling disconnected to what the body looks like. I've also never had body dysphoria and my trans dysphoria is little to none, so I'm doubtful it's because of those.

Sorry for the rambles I'm a bit of a mess about this issue. It feels like a self-inflicted wound, like I wouldn't be in such an identity mess if I didn't intentionally try a copinglink. I'm upset at causing my own species / identity dysphoria, if it's my fault.

I’m a staunch believer that identities can shift and change over time – including links turning into kintypes, which sounds like what you’re describing.

You talk about viewing yourself as the character, which is one of the hallmarks of being ‘kin. If you feel like the identity has evolved to the point where you couldn’t easily ‘drop it’, even if you wanted to, I’d say that yeah, you have a new kintype. Congrats!

Try not to blame yourself for the negative things that follow your new identity. Dysphoria can come with the territory, but it’s just one aspect of who we are. Our identities encompass so much more than just disliking our bodies - in many ways being other-/fictionkin can be a gift! Our kintypes can make our lives richer, allow us to view the world from a different perspective, and can motivate us to do great things.

And if you choose to alleviate your dysphoria, just think, you get to be a part of creating something brand new and beautiful. One quote that resonates with me (in both a gender and species sense): “God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.”

[shypansexualcrystal]

Hey, I was gonna ask you for a Request about Older! Steven Universe x Reader. How sus they met, like a flashback when they were kids and the Reader always had feelings for him but he doesn't know until he got older and that's how he find out about her feelings

Title: A trip down memory lane

Type: Fluff

Character: Steven Universe

From: Steven Universe

Pairing: Older Steven Universe X Reader

I like the idea!

Sorry if it’s not exactly how you wanted it.

Continues on from the previous Steven X Reader Movie night

Enjoy!

~~~

I awoke from my peaceful slumber due to the shift beside me, humming tiredly as I was pulling further into Stevens's arms. Exhaling through my nose I flutter my eyes open to see Steven looking down at me with contempt in his loving gaze. Before I could smile at him I was interrupted by a yawn, "Is it morning yet?"I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Steven chuckled at me while shaking his head, "not quite, its almost 2 am. You fell asleep halfway through the third movie like you always do every time we have a movie night."I groaned and tucked my head into stevens embrace as he teased me, my eyes weighed down as I could barely keep awake.

Stevens gentle chuckling rings out through the room a while longer before he settles his head above mine, effectively trapping me in his loving hold.

It was silent for a while, though it wasn't awkward like it used to be when we first had these movie nights together. I remember when I used to be so scared of saying something embarrassing in my sleep, like confessing my love for Steven, or snoring when I slept that I couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried. Eventually, I got more comfortable and Steven made sure I was asleep before following me into the dreamworld. On the nights I couldn't sleep Steven made sure to stay awake and we'd either chat or watch movies the entire night, we never actually cuddled at that point since we were both too awkward and we hadn't confessed.

“What are you thinking about? You’ve got that look on your face.”Steven brought me out from my memories, making eye contact with him again I shrugged with a dopey smile on my face.

“I’m thinking about how awkward we both were when we were kids.” Steven huffed out a breath and dropped his head against his pillows, “I remember when you tried to ask me out you were so scared of me rejecting you that you actual teared up.” I let out a soft giggle.

“Hey, I used to be really sensitive! I couldn’t help it.”Steven frowned playfully at me while a continued to snicker.

“What do you mean ‘used to be’? You still are! Just the other day you got upset over the fact that the big donut closed early because you wanted to surprise me with donuts when you came over to mine for date night.” I poke at him jokingly. I pushed me off him while crossing his arms over himself, rolling over so his back was facing me.

“But I had an entire plan the involved donuts.” I crawled over him to see his face, he pouted at me, so I pouted straight back.

“I know you did. That's why we made our own, making your plan even better and sweeter.” I grinned toothily at him as he lit up with joy. “See, there's the smile that lights up entire galaxies.” I cooed at him while smooshing his cheeks together, this prompted Steven to laugh out loud.

“How did I ever get lucky enough to get with you?” Steven spoke with adoration in his voice and gaze. It was silent, and I drifted back into my memories.

/Flashback\

The sound of joyous laughter rang out through the ballroom, the Diamonds looked at the kids on the dance floor in front of them with both confusion and excitement. Steven and I were having so much fun that we didn't care who was watching or what their opinions are. Too caught up in the moment to realise nor care as the room was filled with light and I was overwhelmed with adoration and compassion. The shocked gasps are what finally brought us out of our careless state. Eyes opening wide, I looked down at my hands, “Steven? (Y/n)? What? Where did you go? Why is everyone looking at us?”The realisation that we fused hit me like a tidal wave and instantly I was thrown backwards. Once the light faded, I saw Steven looking at me with a mix of emotions, mainly fear. I couldn’t do anything except stare back, I could barely breathe. The diamonds and the rest of the gems in the room yelling made me break free from my trance.

Finally blinking after a while of staring at Steven, my eyes stung a little as I saw Steven shyly stare up at the Diamonds, he had already made peace with them and everything was on the road for recovery. However, the diamonds were still very new to fusion, and it seemed as if they were shocked just as much as Steven and I. It seemed as if Steven was ashamed at the fact that he had fused with me, and all reason excited my mind and nothing but embarrassment and negative emotions filled my head.

Thinking that Steven wouldn’t want me to be near him anymore and worried that I had ruined the only relationship that I help over everyone else broke me on the inside, no longer being able to control myself I fled from the room and ran, refusing to look back even when I heard my name being called by The Crystal Gems and Steven, I just had to escape.

I could barely see where I was going due to the tears clouding my vision. I was choking on my own breathing as I bolted down the hallways while trying to keep my anguish to myself which proved difficult while running. Gems looked at me in concern as I passed by but I didn't care. Tears made my eyelashes clump together. Breathing rough. All I wanted was to escape this ice-cold thrumming that shot across my chest, that pain made it hard to think clearly.

Finally reaching a familiar room, I crashed into the doors and shut them behind me. I fell against them before curling up in a ball in front of them as I continued to weep. While I tried to gather my thoughts, the sound of flip-flops hitting the floor brought my attention to whose room I was currently hiding in.

Deciding it was better to talk this through rather than childishly ignore the issue at hand I scrambled to my feet and shakily wiped the tears from my face. My eyes stung as I blinked away more tears. Just as I sniffed for what felt like the millionth time, the doors were pushed open to reveal Stevens worry-filled gaze.

“Hey, (Y/n).” He spoke softly, knowing that if he raised his voice any higher I would probably flinch away from him. I avoided his gaze, and he took his time to cautiously make his way towards me. Once he was close enough I broke down again and just stumbled into his awaited hold.

“I’m s-sorry,” a hiccup interrupted me. Steven held me in a firm hug while shushing me.

“Don’t apologize, I should be the one doing that. I didn't mean to fuse with you. I’m sorry.” I tried to shake my head to ague against him but he wouldn't let me. “I’m so sorry, (Y/n). I hate seeing you cry and it hurts me knowing it was because of me.”

This time I fought against him to speak, “no I’m sorry for running away from you and being a child, I should've stayed.” I wanted to confess so badly, I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to be with him but seeing his ashamed gaze made me feel as if I had ruined any chance of being together happening.

“Why are you sorry? I’ve been wanting to fuse with you for as long as I knew how to, I just never knew how to say that I wanted to do it with you because I have feelings for you.”At this point, Steven was beginning to tear up himself.

“Wait, you have feelings for me?” My train of thought was put on hold at his confession. Steven nodded as he began to actually cry. “But you looked so ashamed once we unfused,” Steven tried to explain how he was ashamed at the fact that he had gone against the Diamonds wishes of him fusing in front of them. Then everything clicked into place, why you felt so much compassion when we became one. I laughed tiredly, hardly believing myself.

Steven grew rigid around me. I looked at him and smiled brightly “I like you too!”

Steven let out a sigh of relief as he sagged into my hold, “thank the stars, you worried me for a second.” I giggled and wiped away his tears.

It was silent for a while as we stood in each other's embrace, not wanting to part. Finally, we laid down to go to sleep, promising to deal with everything later.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

...

Steven sighed as he looked down at the body that clung to his as they slept, he moved some stray strands of hair from their face, while admiring how the lights from his TV were illuminating and framing their face. He notices a content smile curl onto the face of his significant other and smiled warmly at the sight before kissing them on the forehead and tucking them into the covers then proceeded to rest his head above theirs on his pillows.

[faedawayyy]

I FUCKING LOVE THIS ALBUM AND THE MEANING OF THE SONGS ARE ALREADY SO CEMENTED IN MY HEAD. PLS. 

THE CONCEPT OF JUSTICE IN DALLAS’S CASE IS LIKE, GIVING JUSTICE TO THE STORIES AND MOMENTS HE’S LIVED THROUGH. usually, he is very quick to be harsh and talk negatively of things and people but actually, he has a deeper perspective but is too scared to show it or at least he has been in the past. i think i’m trying to develop him in a new direction (ish). he isn’t a saint but i think he’s definitely ready for newer chapters. 

2 MUCH “Don't wanna fall asleep, I'd rather fall in love 'Cause eternity with you ain't long enough Two seconds without you's like two months And that's too much” a song about all of his relationships. i feel like this is definitely how dallas feels with ALL of his relationships, whether he claims to love or hate them now. he definitely admires people and puts them on pedalstals and he’s his own biggest enemy because if he could verbalise his feelings properly, people would probably feel more valued by him. the chorus definitely points to how he feels like he knows every romantic relationship he has will be over. they all just feel like ticking time bombs and deep down he thinks he’ll end up alone. 

DESERVE YOU  I feel like I don't deserve you tonight It's in the way that you hold me I don't deserve you tonight It's in the things that you show me I need you, don't let me go”  a song for charlie. she’s his best friend and this is definitely a platonic song. she’s the one friend (girl, anyway) that’s stood by him and not criticised him or patronised him, but also hasn’t made things messy by blurring the lines between them. he knows he doesn’t appreciate her enough but he’s also massively worried about disappointing her/not living up to the person she seems to think he can be if he tries. she was the person who was there at his very lowest. it’s about him feeling fully accepted by her too.

AS I AM  “Sometimes, I don't know why you love me Sometimes, I don't know why you care Take me with the good and the ugly Say, "I'm not goin' anywhere" his real fans. the ones who he sees constantly defending him and sticking up for him, despite all of the shit that he’s put them through lmao because he’s definitely not made it easy to support him but he is genuinely grateful (as much as he moans about fancons and being bothered). 

OFF MY FACE  “'Cause I'm off my face, in love with you I'm out my head, so into you And I don't know how you do it But I'm forever ruined by you” soraya. it’s a love song but also a play on his battle with drugs and how his addiction came in between them. the song lines definitely go back and forth between a stereotypical love song (for her) and a more toxic love song (for the drugs) and how he couldn’t bring himself to part with them for her. 

HOLY  “On God Runnin' to the altar like a track star Can't wait another second 'Cause the way you hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me Feels so holy” charlie, disney, ruby, adrian, matt, evan, basically all of his close friends. the song is pretty self-explanatory. 

UNSTABLE  “I tried to scare you, scare you away Showed you the door, you adored me anyway When I was broken in pieces You were my peace of mind, you were my peace of mind.” a lot of these songs are going to be about coming to terms with the truth about his relationship with soraya and realising that he was the problem, because he’s always found it easier to point at anything else. 

MLK INTERLUDE  “You died when you refused to stand up for right You died when you refused to stand up for truth You died when you refused to stand up for justice for all of his faults, dallas has ALWAYS spoken up about bigger social issues. especially racial inequality. i think he’d put this on here for ally-ship purposes but also to remind people that there are bigger problems than trying to decode what each song is about. i think the speech itself connects to him because there are SO MANY people at st judes who villainise him lmao and run their mouths about how bad he is, but then stay quiet for shit that actually matters. so i guess its kinda shade to them too. 

DIE FOR YOU  “Pain and passion, my desire You're the right now and what will be You know I would die for you The rest of my life for you” ZARA. zara is the only girl he’s been linked to that has made him meet his match. she always gave him the energy he gave her and that was a first for him, bc he was so used to having the upper-hand. it’s a song about feeling like he’s been pulled out of the rut and the mess he ended up in with soraya x julian and everything else. 

HOLD ON  “Painting stars up on your ceiling 'Cause you wish that you could find some feeling, yeah, you You know you can call me if you need someone” ruby. he saw how hurt she was after her break-up and he’d been there. they weirdly fell back together after so many years and he didn’t want to see her fall into the heartbreak with ros that she did with soraya.

SOMEBODY  “Yeah, everybody needs somebody (Everybody needs somebody) Somebody to wake up to when everyone's gone So if you need me, then you got me (If you need me, then you got me) I'll be the shoulder you cry on” charlie, again, but this time saying he’ll be the best friend to her that she’s been to him. 

GHOST  “If I can't be close to you I'll settle for the ghost of you I miss you more than life  And if you can't be next to me Your memory is ecstasy I miss you more than life” the very last song he’s wrote about soraya. i think he knows deep down that they’re not getting back together but he is deeply in love with her & she is the love of his life, and i feel like he takes comfort in knowing that he’s significant to her too. 

PEACHES  “I got my peaches out in Georgia (Oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (That's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (Bad-ass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (Yeah, that's it)” nothing LMAO 

LOVE YOU DIFFERENT  “There’s beauty on your lips I drown with every kiss I'm not used to this There's nothing I won’t give Don't like makin' promises Just remember this” his relationship with gigi. i think now that he’s away from it and well over it, he sees it more for what it is and the fact that empty promises and trying to be more than they wanted to be kinda ruined them. i feel like this song was written in past tense because they’re obviously not in love any more. 

LOVED BY YOU  “It's still your love I'm always looking for It's just the way I'm wired Whether I'm wrong or right I've only got one thing on my mind” EVERYONE. i think at his core, dallas is desperate to be loved by people and the reason he pushes people away is because he doesn’t think they’re ever going to. it addresses the people around him, his fans, music academies. he acts like he wants no approval but it’s really the opposite. 

ANYONE “You say that I won't lose you, but you can't predict the future So just hold on like you will never let go Yeah, if you ever move on without me I need to make sure you know that...” soraya

LONELY “Everybody knows my past now Like my house was always made of glass And maybe that's the price you pay For the money and fame at an early age And everybody saw me sick And it felt like no one gave a shit They criticized the things I did as an idiot kid”

growing up

[formula365]

Accountability goes a long way - Emilia Romagna Grand Prix preview

Lando Norris did something unusual for an F1 personality this week. Like other drivers from his generation, the young Brit is different from the traditional driver, with a more fun and relaxed approach to his life and career than we are used to seeing. This relaxed demeanour and his positive presence in social media and game streaming means he is used to being different from those around him in the paddock. However, his unusual actions this time around had nothing to do with his youth, but rather with his maturity. Put simply, Lando took responsibility for his actions, and apologised for them. And more than once, even.

First, over the team radio at the end of the race, he apologised for using some choice words to refer to Lance Stroll and his over-cooked attempt to overtake the McLaren driver. On Monday, he apologised for some post-race comments, regarding the competition (or lack thereof) that Hamilton faced on the way to setting a new win record. You can actually argue that neither situation even warranted an apology: his comments on Stroll’s move were not harsher than anything we hear week in week out, and regarding Hamilton, he simply shared his opinion, which one can say is controversial but not exactly offensive.

Nevertheless, the fact he felt the need to assume he had done something wrong is refreshing. For all of the air of change and solidarity the sport wants to transmit these days, certain attitudes continue to resist being dropped, like an old driver refusing retirement despite all the evidence showing they are way past their best. And we don’t have to go that far back to find signs of this attitude. After all, Verstappen was guilty of using far worse language on Friday (curiously, also about Stroll) and when questioned about it, he simply shrugged his shoulders.

Even worse, Racing Point as a team failed to remotely assume any kind of responsibility for the debacle surrounding Stroll and his positive COVID test. There are so many things the team should have done differently it is hard to list them all; however, to hear them talk about it feels like there was nothing in the world they could have done to improve the situation.

Maybe it’s just a public facade and behind closed doors they have taken it more seriously. I would like to believe that, but I think that unfortunately the actions of Verstappen and Racing Point are simply a reflection of an overarching problem in F1: there is a shocking lack of accountability. The reason why teams and individuals feel they have no need to apologise or learn from negative behaviour is that they know there will be no punishment from the sport’s officials or the teams.

One of the most repeated words over a race weekend has become “reprimand”. It is a common form of non-punishment that tries to quell a controversy by doing exactly nada de nada. These are slaps on the wrist that have no consequences and no real effect, but allow the sport to claim to have addressed the issue. Nothing has changed, no one learned anything, but our hands are now clean.

On a team level, it is clear that neither Red Bull nor Racing Point had any incentive to take any action. Would Red Bull really want to punish their star driver, when they know that the moment Mercedes offer him a spot, he will jump ship? They need him far more than he needs them, and both parties understand that this is a fragile marriage that will only last if Max can’t find a more competitive seat elsewhere.

Also, would Szafnauer really have the power to force Stroll to take a test and self-isolate, even if he thought that was the correct course of action? How can any boss discipline an employee who is also the son of the owner?

The balance of power in these relationships is not even close to being even, and this means that those who are beholden to others have no incentive to properly punish them. The FIA wants to keep the teams happy, the teams want to keep the drivers happy. Responsibility and accountability are words that don’t exist in the F1 vocabulary. That is, unless, like with Norris, they come directly from the self.

Talking points

•  Imola to me will always be synonym with Senna. As a young fan, the 1994 San Marino GP was an enormous shock: no drivers had died since I had started watching the sport, and then, all of a sudden, two succumbed in consecutive days. Add to that the major crash at the start, the mechanic hit by a loose wheel, the fans hit by debris, Barrichello’s crash on Friday... It was a nightmare weekend for the sport, and my first realisation of its real dangers.

But Senna was the most shocking of all. He was one of the main reasons, if not the main, why I started watching F1. My oldest racing memory is his mesmerising win at the 1985 Portuguese GP; he made me a fan of the sport, and of himself, on that day. To witness one of my biggest idols perish in front of my eyes was a moment I will never forget. And so, every return to Imola is an emotional one. Every time the cars will drive past that fateful corner, I will be thinking of you, Champion.

•  There are a lot of drivers with their F1 futures on the line who will be driving (or trying) the wheels off their cars this weekend, but there are also a few that are preparing to drive the last few races of their F1 careers. Magnussen and Grosjean, having lost their Haas seats, seem resigned to continue their careers elsewhere, and a similar fate might be coming for Kvyat. I hope they can make the most of what is left of the season to leave F1 fans with a good memory of them.

•  23 races, including 2 triple headers? Another grand prix in a country with a poor human rights record? Paul Ricard and Barcelona continue on the calendar? And, to top it all off, no Interlagos, to be replaced by a newly built track for which a forest needs to razed? I would say I am disappointed, but that would lead you to assume I had positive expectations - and trust me, I did not.