#and it sort of coincides with the time i started loving jon

[jarchivussy]

hmm. i think jon sims might have actually cured my mental illness. to a degree

[user211201]

Listen Up: Swimmer

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-21 by newyoutf ---

Jon twisted back and forth under the showerhead, singing along to the music blasting from his phone on the counter.

The music lowered in volume for a second, making way for two loud dings. Jon reached out from the stream of water and fumbled with the screen in his wet hands. It was a message from Oliver, his best friend, “Hey bro, got something you should listen to.”

“Bro?” Jon wondered. Since when did Oliver say “bro”? Jon blinked, struggling to think for a moment. Oliver talked like that all the time, he was American after all... wasn’t he?

Attached to the message was an audio file. Jon figured it must have been a new song by one of the pair’s favorite pop divas, perhaps a new leaked track. Jon hit the play button, placed the phone back down, and returned to the hot water.

A harsh static buzz and what sounded like garbled speech boomed from the phone, taking Jon by surprise. The corrupted audio cleared up after a moment and a deep, male voice started.

“Welcome. This audio program is custom designed. Just for you. Ensure you are in a comfortable, private place. You will not want to be disturbed.”

“Oliver,” Jon rolled his eyes, thinking that surely something starting this ridiculous would be some sort of joke or meme. After all, Oliver had always been a dumb joker. “Wait,” Jon felt confused, he could have sworn Oliver was a quiet, twinky lad like himself?

Jon realized couldn’t form a solid impression of his friend in his mind. They met at their university in London and became best friends, bonding over their mutual love of pop music and ogling the campus jocks. But now it was like that reality had been shattered. Those memories gave way for ones of meeting each other at the campus gym shortly after Oliver arrived from the US. Oliver was his best, hot, American friend, right? Jon’s cock twitched at the new image of his friend as he placed his face under the stream of hot water in an attempt to clear his head.

“Relax. Take a deep breath, in and out.”

Jon unwittingly followed the instructions. The frown fell from his face and his body relaxed, taking in the warmth of the water.

“You’re Oliver's best friend. Makes sense, given you’re a total alpha too.”

“Both wha- ah! Ah!”, Jon planted his hands against the wet, tiled wall as the words sent pleasure rippling through his body. He looked down feeling a strong warmth against his leg but it wasn’t the hot water. His semi-hard cock had blasted a rope of cum against his leg. “What the fuck?” Jon mumbled.

“What a coincidence that you’re both six-foot-four. It serves him well in the gym, the same way it serves you well in the water.”

Jon howled in ecstasy, spluttering and moaning, as his five-foot-nine body stretched higher. His soft cock drooled hot cum as it rapidly began to rise. His arms pushed against the wall, lengthening for better performance in the pool. He stepped backward as his head struck the showerhead and rose even higher. Hot water poured down the front of his much longer torso and legs.

“Your shoulders are so broad. Typical of you swimming jocks.”

Unable to resist the command, Jon's shoulders crunched and throbbed, thrusting out larger and bulging with muscle. “God! W- What the fuck i- is... ugh... happening?!” he roared, terrified not just by the growth gripping his body, but the incredible pleasure it wrought on him.

“Those are some long, meaty fucking arms, Jon.”

“F- fuck!” Jon roared, spraying a massive load up the back of the shower feeling his narrow arms explode with thick mounds of muscle, rippling across his biceps and triceps. The growth spread down his arms, his forearms bloating with tight, lean muscle. His wrists cracked as they thickened.

“Hands that big must be useful for pushing through the water.”

Stifled screams rumbled from Jon’s tightly clenched mouth. His hands were pressed against the back of the shower, clicking and twitching as they began to swell across the tiles. The fingers accelerated longer and longer. His palms spread monstrously broad. He flexed his hands, in total awe of their disproportionate size; perfect for pushing through the water.

The experience was like nothing Jon ever felt. A sexual eruption taking place across every cell as the words rewrote his body. “Can’t... resist... so g- good,” Jon grunted, gasping for air.

“You clearly work out for the aesthetics as well, not just the pool. Your shredded chest is proof of that.”

Jon couldn’t even attempt to fight anymore, but nor did he want to. His chest puffed and bulged, distorting the path of the water running across it. The previously non-existent pecs pushed outward from his widening chest. His cock trembled as the changes took hold in his abdomen, causing his flat stomach to erupt with tight, thick abs. Jon gripped his ass, feeling it swell into his huge hands while he erupted cum across the tiles once more.

*“That’s the spirit, Jon. You’re a *stud.”

Jon felt those words echo in his ears and rumble down his throat. Grunts and pants became deeper and deeper as his thickened and voice morphed. His head groaned as it enlarged to fit his frame. Hair began to flourish out of his cheeks and across his upper lip while the mop of medium-length hair on his head retreated, leaving a short, handsome cut in its place. He stroked his cock with one hand and clasped his face with the other feeling his jawline refine and the angles of his face sharpen. He turned to the mirror cabinet, seeing just a sliver of his improved visage. Jon gasped at the sight and immediately ejected another load of cum.

He didn’t just look like a swole swimming jock. He felt like one too. He rejoiced in his mind being filled with thoughts of the pool, weightlifting, spotting his bros at the gym, and fucking them afterward.

“Good to see the bottom half matches the top.”

Jon’s legs trembled. He clutched the slippery tiles harder to hold himself up, the pleasure reverberating through his legs almost too much to bear. Muscles spasmed in his calves, swelling with every little twitch. Muscle wasn’t all that was gracing his legs. Dark hair grew forth from the skin, coating his powerful legs in a layer of fur. Jon swore under his breath, impressed by the hair spreading up and down his legs. He thought about how he refused to shave like other swimmers, he liked the hair, and regardless his superior form needed no extra boost. His body responded to the suggestion, triggering a fine layer of hair to sprout from his forearms, between his pecs, in a trail over his abs and across the tops of his feet.

Memories of the pool, the beach, and victories across university swimming tournaments swarmed his brain. Trophies and medals materialized in the bedroom just next to where he was showering.

“Damn, it’s no surprise you outperform everyone in the water with feet that massive. And you know what they say about that, Jon.”

Every one of the toes on Jon’s size eight feet surged with pleasure. He moaned loudly as they began to push across the floor of the shower while his soles stretched to catch up. He recalled new memories of having large feet, how they propelled him to victory in the pool, and the comments people would make: “Bigfoot”, “You know what they say...”, “Where can you even buy size sixteens?”

“Sixteen?!” he repeated in his mind. The brief shock turned to anticipation as he felt his soles continue to march forward longer and wider, his toes twitching while they reshaped long and meaty. Jon growled aloud as he expelled another load, “God, yeah... so f- fucking... big.”

The jock trembled under the stream of hot water, desperate for sexual release. He looked down as the expanding feet settled into excessively large size sixteens, curling his long toes as his six-inch cock began to quiver in its desperation to grow larger as well. It felt as though it were perpetually hardening, only to then push longer and girthier instead. Jon grasped his wet cock and thrust into his grip hard and repeatedly. He relished in the sensation of the veins bulging and the shaft thickening.

*“I guess what they say really is true, isn’t *it?”

The audio toyed with him, pushing his cock just that little bit longer and pumping it ever so slightly thicker. It pulsed and twitched, gradually and slowly with every breath. His uncut, British foreskin slid further backward, as a larger, blunter head swelled outward. Jon smirked as he groaned and growled, stroking faster and faster, enthralled by the beautiful nine-inch weapon he now possessed.

“Cum.”

“Oh yeah! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jon made three final long, hard tugs on his thick pole before roaring in delight as unspeakable ecstasy filled him. Cum rocketed upward against the water rushing from the showerhead, ejecting what remained of Jon’s old genetic material while orgasm after orgasm pounded his body.

Exhausted and dripping wet, he stepped slowly out of the tub, unsteady on his new legs and feet.

*“Remember to share this recording with your friends*.”

And with that, the playback stopped. Jon looked at himself in the mirror, still shocked, but enraptured with his new body and looks. He grabbed his phone and wiped the water from the screen, struggling to unlock it with his longer fingers. He typed out a reply to Oliver, “That shit was fucking lit mate!”

A few miles away, a sweaty Oliver was busy lifting weights, waiting for his friend to give him some indication that something had happened. He had to place the weight down slowly as his mind blurred for a moment. He saw the images and memories that he had of his friend change and shift. Gone were the images of a quiet little twink, replaced by those of a loud, masculine swimming jock. Oliver smiled cockily realizing what had just happened. Then, as if on cue, his phone vibrated with Jon’s reply. Following was a photo of a huge, semi-hard cock swinging above two gargantuan feet. Oliver felt his own cock stiffen slightly at the image.

“Hell yeah, bro! You should be selling these pics like I do,” Oliver sent in response, getting a deep chuckle out of Jon.

Both men now looked at their phones, horny and pondering who next to share the mysterious audio file with.

[rowanraven08]

So I just need to fucking rant about my boys being stuck in the ‘puters. CAUSE MAN DO I HAVE THOUGHTS. Have probably said some of this before, but not all.

So I’m thoroughly convinced that they’ve been properly coded in, Sergey Ushanka style, and also based off that statement, there’s no doubt in my mind that it hurts for them. I know this is a different universe, but unless computer folks are a common thing here, why would the plot give them anything less than more trauma? But I’m actually kinda concerned about how they’ll be once/if they get out?? Like aside from the trauma of it even, Tessa Winters said you can’t code people in the way people really are, and I’m kinda worried that through the whole thing that they might be different, or have lost a little bit of themself, the way that if you put something through google translate to many times it comes out all messed up, mostly with the same meaning, but words have still changed.

Other than that even, how the hell is Jon gonna cope/currently coping with not being omniscient?? I imagine going from knowing almost everything to having to seek out the information yourself again would be a huge hurdle. Even if now he has the equivalent of what Elias could do, seeing out of any eye, but instead just seeing out of any camera, that would be so disorienting. Never mind the fact they’re in an alternate universe.

The whole thing just makes me so sad, they can’t communicate clearly, are clearly trying tooth and nail to help and to get the OIAR gang to understand, stuck in this nonexistence that is probably excruciating, and no one except probably Colin and Celia even knows they exist. (I’m operating under the assumption Celia knows what’s up, she’s a smart girl she knows this isn’t a coincidence) But Colin clearly fucking hates them, Sam is only just starting to realize the computers are listening, and Celia doesn’t actually seem to be trying to help them, the only thing we know about her research is that she was looking into alternate universes and time travel sort of stuff, and that now she’s looking into alchemy. My boys are SCREAMING to be heard and no one will listen.

Like what will they even do? Worst case scenario, they’re stuck like that forever. Best case scenario, they get out, and somehow manage to get home (unlikely in my opinion) only to be met with a world still rebuilding, where everyone hates them. Last scene in TMA? Literally Melanie, Georgie, and Basira talking about how it’s better off they can’t find Jon, and they’re right,

“I mean, I just don’t think people would exactly be understanding. You remember what happened when they found Simon Fairchild?”

“And he’s not just some powerless left-behind avatar, you know? We’re talking about ‘The Archivist’.”

People would absolutely kill Jon if he came back, and they knew who he was, and I think being able to fly under the radar isn’t an option seeing as he literally haunted people’s dreams for a while. Who’s to say he could even stay alive in a world without the fears? Death might finally catch up to him, the exhaustion, everything. I don’t think going back is an option for them.

Maybe for Celia, if it’s even possible. But I think at this point she’d be happier in Protocol universe than Archives. She couldn’t even remember her original name in late s5, and didn’t remember Martin, she seemed to have lost at least a good portion of her memory if not all. If that didn’t come back after the apocalypse, she has more actual connection to Protocol, the cult being her only real connection to Archives. Maybe she’s trying to get back just because of principle, she’s not considering if that’s really what she wants because it’s the clear next step. But I don’t think she’d be able to leave Jack behind. I don’t even think she really is his proper mother, I’m guessing she somehow took other Celia’s (Lynne’s) identity, and just took over caring for Jack. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him.

I really do hope Jon and Martin get out of the computer, it’ll be so hard for them to deal with everything, but maybe if they stayed in Protocol they could still build a life together.

Some other random stuff:

So I went through, and found (I think) all the times we hear the jmj. error.

Ep 3 we get an error, which actually starts working when Colin threatens it, and it starts up with a statement from our buddy Norris, and I actually find it kinda amusing to imagine Martin being scared into reading the statement by the frustrated IT guy.

We also get an error in ep 5, after Gwen asks about the German IT guy before Colin. Which a.) why is she asking about him, b.) if I’m right about the errors being an attempt at communication, why do they think the guy’s important? C.) I had thought before that the German bit of code could be Jonah or something since he may have known German? But pretty sure that was too speculative, it makes more sense for it to have just been the German IT guy. D.) he’s mentioned as having a bunch of tattoos, which so far has not meant good things.

Ep 17 which I talked about in a different post, where the error lasted long enough for Gwen and Alice to nearly talk about stuff, only starting up again once they end that bit of the conversation without actually talking about it

And then ofc in 19 when Alice won’t listen to Sam about the computers listening.

I don’t think I missed any, but I might have? So if anyone notices one I missed lemme know please

Also only just realized a few days ago that jmj. isn’t an ACTUAL error, I know Colin says ep 3 it doesn’t mean anything, but I had actually taken that as Colin just being frustrated, and hadn’t read into. Jmj doesn’t even fucking exist, my guess is that it stands for Jon Martin Jonah?

Also what’s everyone’s thoughts on Teddy? Because that man is getting kinda suspicious. Why does he keep showing up? He works into this somehow. Also why doesn’t he actually want to talk to Alice? She’s high energy and not very serious, but it sounds like the guy properly ghosted her, keeps lying about how they’ll hang out more, or how he’ll text her back, could just be him being a bit of a dick, or maybe she did something to kinda deserve it, but it’s could be he’s trying to keep her at a distance to keep her safe? Especially if he is already wrapped up in this crap.

[rise-my-angel]

hi mimi!! i haven't been on tumblr/ your blog in a long time- i think the last time i was online here, you were writing the oberyn/ellaria/reader fic! i was just wondering what drew you to loving jon snow as a character? is there something specific that inspired you to start writing jon snow/ reader fics? i just started reading through your masterlist and i'm so hypedd~ also, how are you doing? hope you're doing well! ☺️☺️

That's a funny timing, the last time you were on my blog I was writing for got/asoiaf and now that you're back on my side of tumblr I'm writing for it again by coincidence 😅

But I've always loved Jon Snow, he is really the exact sort of character I've always loved. I like the more serious and quiet characters, ones who aren't the typical heroic type, or cocky or egotistical or really even super charming. He's the one who does not want to be the protagonist but ends up fulfilling that role because someone has to care about the innocent, and he doesn't want to risk no one standing up for them if he chooses not to. So he becomes the hero without ever actually having the charm or heroicism associated with one.

People tend to write Jon off as boring because he is brooding and stoic, but that's what I love. He is a normal man fighting for the innocent in an abnormal situation without ever wanting the glory to go with it. He isn't the hero, he's a man doing the right thing when the world around him is telling him to not bother.

But because I was heavily into the Pedro fandom for a while, when I wanted to get back into got/asoiaf, I tested the waters with an Oberyn fic because even before I was in that fandom, Oberyn Martell was another of my favourite characters anyways. But then I left the fandom, and eventually found the bravery to write for got/asoiaf and at that point I knew it was Jon I wanted to write about. Because everytime I returned to the series (books or show) it was always Jon I found myself rooting for the most.

He's the closest thing in the series to just a normal man there is, and it's his refusal to allow the fantastical parts of his blood to dictate who he becomes that I admire the most.

If it's the masterlist pinned on my blog you're going through I hope you like it but I know that story won't be eveyone's cup of tea. If it's only my main masterlist for my pedro writing you're going through, I hope you like that too!

[myfuckingpoetrt]

I had a crazy nightmare that we were all on Megan’s car and cody was driving. We kept seeing people on literal bikes and weird vehicles (like golf carts, go karts, atvs, etc) driving on the wrong side of the road. Each time cody would kind of knee-jerk-reaction scream* at them (without rolling a window down) to get off the road and panic a bit but they would pass by fine and we’d keep driving. We got on the highway over where Ridgmar mall is by the Alta mere exit in Fort Worth and imagine this is all happening very quickly.

There was a man with goggles driving some weird car I’ve never seen and he was driving the wrong way and passed between us and the car to the left of us. We were at this point all kind of freaking out because it was the third person. 2 is weird but 3 is not a coincidence. So we are all kind of talking about it and watching him drive off and then we see him hit an 18 wheeler, his weird car catches on fire which catches him on fire, he gets catapulted into the air from being hit and his charred body hits the side of the car. Everyone was screaming and/or crying and I disassociated in the dream which was weird because I felt it happening…

Cody sped up to keep up with traffic because everyone was freaking out and trying to get off the highway. There is someone riding a REGULAR BIKE in front of us on the highway and they’ve been pumping their sculpted, biker short legs so fast to keep up (we did not question them being there lmao.) Another person driving the wrong way comes out of nowhere so people start swerving and breaking and all sorts but then the weird car side swipes the bikers and they fall and cody just bump bump bump bumps right over their bodies because it happened so fast and he couldn’t react in time. Megan says, “what was that?” And I told her let’s worry about getting safe and then we will talk about it. Cody checked out somewhere mentally when megan asked lol. Jon was just shocked and didn’t say much.

Cody then can’t fucking take it anymore cause he ran some people over so he is quickly getting to the side of the road near a bridge and somehow gets through 3 lanes of traffic to get over there even though everyone is driving frantically. So he’s slowing down and then we see (and this is my favorite part) a black gorilla beating the shit out of some guy that also pulled off the road. Cody is like oh fuck and starts backing up and then accidentally backs into a car coming towards on the highway and I woke up.

Hope that helps!

Accident

To dream that you are in an accident signifies pent-up guilt in which you are subconsciously punishing yourself over. Perhaps you are not proud of something you have done. Alternatively, the accident may symbolize an error or mistake you have made. Accident dreams also represent your fears of being in an actual, physical accident. You may simply be nervous about getting behind the wheel. Or the dream is trying to warn you of some accident.

To dream of a car accident symbolizes your emotional state. You may be harboring deep anxieties and fears. Are you "driving" yourself too hard? Perhaps you need to slow down before you hit disaster. You need to rethink or re-plan your course of actions and set yourself on a better path. Dreaming that someone is injured in a car accident means that you cannot control the action of others. They have to live with the consequences of their own decisions.

To dream that a loved one dies in an accident indicates that something within your own Self is no longer functional and is "dead". It is also symbolic of your own relationship with that person. Perhaps you need to let go of this relationship.If you dream that you die from the car accident and actually see the reactions of your loved ones, then it suggests that your reckless activity is affecting those around you. This dream is a wake-up call. TOP

Accomplice

To dream that you are an accomplice to a crime suggests that someone in your waking life is having a negative influence on you. You may be experiencing feelings of guilt with something that you have done.

To dream that you have an accomplice implies that others are enabling your negative habits or behavior. TOP

Goggles

To see or wear goggles in your dream suggest that you are trying to protect yourself from emotional harm. Perhaps you need to confront something in your waking like that you know is hurting you.

Golf Cart

To see or ride a golf cart in your dream suggests that you are too lackadaisical in the pursuit of your goals. You have no sense of urgency in things.

Gorilla

To see a gorilla in your dream suggests that you may be too "over the top" in your behavior. Perhaps you are compensating for your rigidity and stiffness in your waking life. Alternatively, the gorilla symbolizes your primitive impulses, wild nature and repressed sexual energy.

Car

To see a parked car in your dream suggests that you need to turn your efforts and energies elsewhere. You may be needlessly spending your energy in a fruitless endeavor. Alternatively, a parked car may symbolize your need to stop and enjoy life.

If you dream that you hit or ran over someone with a car, then it implies that you have hurt someone in order to move ahead in life.

Dreaming of a car that is driving fast suggests that you need to slow down and think through your choices. You are so focused on your goals that you are leaving behind the people around you

Car Alarm

To hear or set off a car alarm in your dream implies that you are headed on the wrong path. The dream is alerting you to change your direction and alter your course.

Wreck

To see a wreck in your dream represents obstacles and barriers toward your goals. You feel that you are being held back or that you are not making any progress.

Witness

To witness to something in your dream represents your need to be more observant. You need to examine something more closely and look at a situation more objectively. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are watching life pass you by. Perhaps you are emotionally detached or feel you are an outcast of society.

Windshield

To look through the windshield in your dream represents what is ahead of you and the choices you make. It may also indicate that your approaching your goals in all the wrong way.

Window

To see a window in your dream signifies bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight. If the window of a house is dark, then it indicates a loss to your perception or vitality.

To dream that you are looking out the window signifies your outlook on life, your consciousness and your point of view. It also refers to your intuition and awareness. You may be reflecting on a decision. Or the dream is telling you that you need to go out into the larger world and experience life. Consider the significance of the things you see when you look out the window. If you are looking in the window, then it indicates that you are doing some soul searching and looking within yourself. It is time for some introspection. To see another face in the window in your dream suggests that you are feeling emotionally distant and physically detached. Also consider the emotion depicted on the face.

Wild

To see something wild in your dream represents the uninhibited and animalistic aspect of your personality. In dreams, you feel freer to behave in a way that you normally would not in your waking life.

Wheels

To see spinning wheels in your dream signify completion or continuation of a familiar situation. The dream may be telling you that your life and daily routine is becoming too repetitious. You are going around in circles and headed nowhere. You need to be more spontaneous! Alternatively, the dream symbolizes forward motion and the ability to proceed toward your goals.

Fire

Depending on the context of your dream, to see fire in your dream can symbolize destruction, passion, desire, illumination, purification, transformation, enlightenment, or anger.

Fireball

To see a fireball in your dream symbolizes some self-destructive force.

Flip

To see something flipping signifies excitement.

To dream that you are flipping something indicates that you are feeling regret. The dream may also be a pun that you are driving someone mad or crazy, as in "flipped out".

Body

To dream about dead bodies implies that you are feeling detached from those around you. It may also mean that you are feeling emotionally drained.

Brakes

To dream that you are applying your brakes signifies that you should slow down in your business and/or personal affairs. You have been living on the fast lane and you need to take it easy. Alternatively, the dream may be a pun on "break". Perhaps you need to take a break or perhaps you need to break off some relationship.

To dream that your brakes fail or that you can't reach the brakes forewarns that you lack stability in your life. Now is not the time to take risks. Your life is out of control and you need to make some significant changes. It may also not a bad idea to check out the brakes in your car, as you mind might have picked up subtle cues and is manifesting the problem in your dream. TOP

Break

To dream that you break something indicates that changes are ahead for you. You need to "break" away from some situation and change the direction that your life is headed in. Alternatively, to break something suggests that you need to take things slower as in "take a break". Or the dream may be a pun on being broke. Are money matters weighing on your mind?

To dream that objects around you are breaking suggests that you are under tremendous stress. The dream could be a metaphor that you are literally at your breaking point. TOP

Difficulty

To dream that you are experiencing difficulties reflect waking difficulties. You are under tremendous stress

To dream of disapproval indicates that you are rejecting or ignoring some aspect of yourself. It may also represent your own feelings of self-worth and being accepted.

Disaster

To dream that you are in a disaster represents your personal anxieties and fears of change. You are afraid of not knowing what is in store for you in the future.

Distress

To dream that you or others are in distress represents worries and unhappiness in your waking life. You will find that your worries were unfounded and that they will turn out to be better than expected. Perhaps the dream is telling you to lighten up.

Bicycle

To see a bicycle in your dream indicates that you need to devote time to leisurely pursuits and recreation.

Blood

To dream that others are bleeding signifies an emotional cry for help.

Scared

To dream that you are scared indicates that you are experiencing feelings of self-doubt, incompetence, and lack of control in your waking life. Perhaps you are having second thoughts about a decision you have made. Anger often masquerades as fear, so also consider issues about which you are angry about in your waking life.

Scream

To hear or dream that someone is screaming indicates that some friend or family member is in need of your help.

Highway

To see a highway in your dream represents your sense of direction and your life's path. Consider the conditions of the highway which will reveal how much you feel in charge of your life. A smooth, straight highway signifies inner peace, while a winding, bumpy road reflects emotional distress/disharmony.

Hit

To dream that you hit something or someone symbolizes unexpressed anger and aggression. You tend to keep your negative feelings inside instead of expressing them in a healthy way.

To dream that you are almost hit or were ran over by a car suggests that your lifestyle, beliefs or goals may be in conflict with another's. It may also be symbolic of a jolting experience or injured pride. If you are almost hit by a car that looks like a cat, then it suggests that you are hindering someone's goals or not letting them be who they are.

Hit And Run

To dream that you are a victim of a hit and run means that certain aspects of your life beyond your control. Alternatively, dreaming of a hit and run implies that someone else's goal and life path are affecting your own personal goals and path. If your dream involved you running away from a hit and run accident, then it implies that you are running away from some waking responsibility. You are refusing to take responsibility for your actions.

Traffic

To dream that you are in traffic signifies the frustrations that you are experiencing in your life. Things are not going as smoothly as you would like it to. You feel stuck at where you are in life.

To see traffic in your dream indicates the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Sometimes you feel like you are just going with the flow. Things have become too routine.

Traffic Light

To see a traffic light in your dream suggests that you feel you are being held back from pursuing your goals. Your forward progress is being controlled by someone or by some outside forces. In other words, you are not in control of your own life. Alternatively, the dream represents the pressure to succeed or else be left behind. If the traffic light is green, then it indicates that you have been given a seal of approval to follow whatever path you have chosen or whatever decision you have made.

Tragedy

To dream of a tragedy indicates that you are experiencing some form of grief or remorse. It is also symbolic of regret.

Panic

To dream that you are in a panic indicates a lack of control and power in your life. You are feeling helpless in some situation or unable to make a clear decision. Calm down.

Paranoia

To dream that you are paranoid indicates your hesitance in moving forward in some situation or relationship. You are so overcome with fear and suspicion that you are not ready to take that major step in your life.

Park

To dream that you are parking your car represents your desire to settle down. Alternatively, it means that you feel accomplished in your goals and satisfied with your life. If you have difficulty parking the car, then it means that you are in some sort of a rut. You are feeling restless. Perhaps you wished you had taken a different path in your life.

To dream that you parked your car in a non-parking zone suggests that you are poking your head in places where you do not belong.

Partner

To see a partner in your dream suggests that you need to seek the help of others in order to accomplish a mutual goal. Alternatively, a partner symbolizes the duality of your personality. Also consider your waking relationship with your own partner.

Passenger

To dream that you are a passenger suggests that you are not in control of your life. You are letting others decide for you. To see other passengers in your dream indicates that you are spending too much energy pleasing others. Perhaps, you feel that others have been leeching off of you.

Abnormal

To dream of some abnormality or of abnormal objects indicate that the problems that have been preoccupying your mind will soon be resolved. Note that anything appearing abnormal draws attention to that particular aspect. Something in your life may not be consistent with how you feel things should be.

Anarchy

To see anarchy in your dream suggests that you need to show some restraint when expressing yourself

Apes

To see an ape in your dream indicates deception, mischievous, and falsehood. Alternatively, it may refer that you or someone have gone "ape". You need to calm down. The ape may also symbolize your wild inner nature, particularly your sexual nature.

Attack

To dream that you are being attacked by someone indicates your character is being questioned. You feel the need to defend yourself. You are feeling stressed, vulnerable and helpless. You may also be facing difficult changes in your waking life. Dreaming of an attack provides a way for you to confront these situations that you may be avoiding in real life.

To dream that you are being attacked by an animal is a warning to be careful with those around you. Take notice of who you know in your waking life that shares and exhibits the same qualities of the animal that attacked you in your dream.

A TV

To see or ride an ATV in your dream indicates your desire to get off the beaten path. You want create your own path and do things your way. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you need to find time for some solitude in your life. M

[cappymightwrite]

It could be a coincidence but I think one of the reasons Jonsa as a literary motif of incest acts as foils to the Lannisters and the Targs version of blood superiority incest is that how aesthetically different Jon and Sansa are .

Oh, see I don't think it's a coincidence at all. I think it's extremely intentional. I've discussed previously the significance of Sansa's hair colour specifically, talking about GRRM's past track record with fictional auburn-haired heroines and how that applies to Jonsa. But without a doubt, I think it's all very purposeful that Jon and Sansa:

Look physically different from one another, therefore unrelated to the untrained eye, whilst also mirroring the positively portrayed married couple of Ned and Catelyn, respectively.

We get no one-on-one interactions between them in which a sibling dynamic could be established, therefore leaving their relationship in a sort of unknown limbo until they meet again.

This distance is emphasised by the infrequency in which they think of one another, and within that, when they do, they quite often qualify their thoughts of one another with "even Sansa" (AGOT, Jon III), and "only her half-brother" (AFFC, Alayne II).

So, we have these aesthetic and circumstantial factors setting them apart from one another, but then when you look more closely at their respective characters... you see where their desires and values start to really overlap in a significant, though subtle, way.

It's interesting that you bring up the "blood superiority" thing though, in regards to the Targaryens and the Lannisters, because this recurring idea of the "blood of Winterfell" is something that connects Jon and Sansa more than perhaps any other Stark. The difference is, however, that whilst it's connected to a sense of identity, just as being "blood of the dragon" is etc., it's interestingly also tied to a place, not a people. They are the "blood of Winterfell", not the "blood of the wolf", or something comparable to the way the Lannisters and Targaryens describe themselves. And why is that important? Why that distinction? I think maybe it highlights a fundemental difference in values and priorities between these houses...

Because being the "blood of Winterfell" ties them to a place, it ties them to the north, rather than one set of people, one dynasty. And it harks back to one of Ned's most important words of wisdom:

Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. – AGOT, Arya II

Being a Stark, having "Stark blood" means nothing if Winterfell falls, Winterfell which is the very heart and defender of the north, the land that the Starks are wardens of, their ancestral land. Whilst being the "blood of the wolf" or whatever, does create a sense of community and belonging, it is nevertheless a limited sphere. Being the "blood of Winterfell" on the other hand, opens that sphere up to mean something more, something greater and higher than just one family:

Yet he could not let the wildlings breach the Wall, to threaten Winterfell and the north, the barrowlands and the Rills, White Harbor and the Stony Shore, even the Neck. For eight thousand years the men of House Stark had lived and died to protect their people against such ravagers and reavers... and bastard-born or no, the same blood ran in his veins. Bran and Rickon are still at Winterfell besides. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Farlen the kennelmaster, Mikken at his forge and Gage by his ovens... everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever loved. If Jon must slay a man he half admired and almost liked to save them from the mercies of Rattleshirt and Harma Dogshead and the earless Magnar of Thenn, that was what he meant to do. – ASOS, Jon II

In the above quote we see that for Jon, and no doubt for the other Starklings, Winterfell is more than just the Starks. It's Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Hodor, etc. It's symbolic of the very north itself. So, to be the "blood of Winterfell" is to be the "blood of the wolf" yes, but it is also to be the "blood of the north" as well. Certainly, when compared with the Lannisters and the Targaryens, you don't get this strong sense of place, this intimate relationship with the land they come from and govern in the way that you do with the Starks.

I kind of went on a bit of tangent there, but I suddenly had this thought about the meaning behind being "the blood of Winterfell" so wanted to share. But yeah, to conclude, Jon and Sansa are certainly foils to the incestuous Lannisters and Targaryens in terms of physical appearance, as well as their "distant" and unestablished relationship... but also, beyond that, the Starks are foils to these houses too, and that is perhaps highlighted in the difference between how they each talk about their respective "blood".

Thanks for the ask! :)

[tiredmaster]

Kind of in love with how Jon only starts loving other people when they prove useful. Under the cut is a necessary deep dive(ish) into this aspect of Jon.

Likes Basira due to her providing tapes

Likes Tim and Sasha at first due to them being useful in sorting out the archives. He explicitly states he wanted them on his team due to their ability to work. (Also favours Sasha who coincidently was meant to be the next archivist suggesting she has more technical skill)

Liked Daisy due to her providing tapes for Basira and eventually protecting the archives and agreeing to help take down Elias.

Olive Banks revived Jon by saving his life and Jon implicitly likes him later in S5. (Enough that Martin is jealous)

Starts liking Helen when she helps him by providing Jared in her hallways so Jon can save Daisy.

That's all I can say definitively- and for some others that are kinda reaching??

He started liking Melanie because she was grounding? She not hesitating to give him attitude which grounds him, or perhaps her making him realise Not!Sasha was... not Sasha. But their relationship is very wavy.

Martin??? Maybe in S2 because martin works as an easy blame victim. Or perhaps in S3 when Martin works to distract Elias- in which Jon immediately starts acting nicer to him in S4? I'm eh on that one he is clearly reacting to Martin no longer paying attention to him. TBH it's either that or a mix between them.

Georgie is pure speculation. Potentially she grounded him as well? But their becoming friends again is distinctly marked by her providing Jon protection. So.

Gerry when he helps Jon by blatantly answering questions. This one is iffy as Jon seems to adore Gerry before they even meet. Sooo... yanno.

As an opposite to this:

Jon hates Elias almost all the time. However, his hate is heightened in S3 when he finds out Elias has been hiding information, is useless when it comes to protecting them, and all of that.

Hated Peter Lukas as he is helping Elias- therefore isn't of any help to Jon. Also stops Jon from seeing Martin.

Not!Sasha, Jude, and other avatars as they helped Elias' plan and also repeatedly force him further into Eye-hood.

Jon hated Martin when he was purely focused on reorganising the archives and Martin distinctly lacked this ability.

I also adore how as their relationships develop, Jon begins to adore them for more than what he immediately deems as useful. He later loves Basira for her humour, Daisy for her brashness and how they relate, Tim and Sasha.... uh, etc.

I'm not too sure how elegantly I worded all of that, but I think it's super interesting when looking at Jon as a character. I've only listened to TMA once so obviously not all of my takes are going to be hot(tm) but here it is.

In more fanon territory; I like to think this shows Jon unconsciously values himself for what he can achieve and his worth to others. I feel like this is pretty supported by canon- but if it was intentionally shown through his relationship with others... idk. I might add on to this later about how this makes him the perfect match for Martin because Martin also constantly craves to be useful but I need to be stopped I think. I'd love any other thoughts on this!

[ghostbustermelanieking]

📓!!

i've posted about this idea before a million times, but: archivist melanie fic. i've had this idea for such a long time, and i would love to riff on it if i ever get the motivation.

so the basic premise of this ends up being a semi melanie-jon role swap, but: essentially jon does not work at the institute, and melanie comes in to give her statement sooner. (her statement takes place in january of 2015, so this actually sort of works?? but i'd probably mess with the timeline so melanie has her encounter with the slaughter, and ghost hunt uk breaks up, sooner.) elias doesn't see a clear candidate for the archivist after murdering gertrude -- he's considering tim, he's considering rosie, but no one feels like a clear fit... but then he meets melanie, who isn't exactly a perfect fit, but... she's doubly marked, by the slaughter and the stranger. and with the drive she has for investigation, it seems like it would be easy to orchestrate twelve more.

so melanie takes the archivist job, with sasha, tim, and martin as her assistants (just because), and her approach ends up even more focused on investigation than jon's. (she refuses to look into the most outlandish ones -- she's still as skeptical of the institute as she is in canon -- but there's plenty grounded in evidence that she's ready to investigate.) tim and sasha fall into this easily, of course, with their experience in research, and they all end up more or less bonding, because why not (melanie canonically liked sasha, and was friends with martin, and i think she would've gotten along better with tim under better circumstances...). georgie, of course, is still close with melanie, and ends up being much more involved with things, and while the institute initially seems like a good thing for melanie -- a new opportunity and a chance to find closure -- it also ends up being a little frightening as time goes on, as melanie's eye powers start to develop, and the slaughter starts to take a greater hold on her...

so in this au, jon comes into the story when he's convinced (either by coincidence, by georgie, or by the web) to give a statement about mr. spider. there's little to no evidence, and melanie would probably dismiss it if it wasn't for the fact that a) jon is friends with georgie, or used to be friends with georgie, and b) the fact that martin and jon immediately hit it off, and martin pushes to investigate more. they can't find anything about jon's statement, but they do decide to look into more spider statements to see if there's a connection. specifically, first, the carlos vittery case. which martin and melanie go to investigate together. and this time, instead of martin, jane prentiss follows the archivist home.

melanie is trapped for a few days with her phone gone. but this time, people get clued in faster -- partially because georgie, who texts with melanie all the time, knows that prentiss's texts are nothing like melanie, and partially because martin was there at the basement with her. they manage to break her out after a few days. melanie ends up staying with georgie instead of in the institute because georgie insists ("you're not staying in the office, melanie; i'll be fine"). jon finds out about this through georgie and, despite the tension he and melanie had when he gave his statement, he calls to apologize. (and is more or less adopted into this strange little circle because of his connection with georgie, and his new tentative friendship with martin.)

the prentiss attack goes very similarly, except for one thing: when the dust has settled, and melanie is getting patched up in an ambulance outside, and tim and martin start hugging a strange woman and calling her sasha... melanie sees through it. she sees through it, and can't say anything, because the others won't believe her, and the not!sasha knows it, keeps smirking at melanie over their shoulders. that isn't sasha, and something has happened to her.

melanie tells georgie, convinces georgie to believe her. they go back into the archives while it is empty (everyone on leave) and tear it apart, looking for references to what this is. (melanie remembers the amy patel statement, but wants more information...) eventually they find the statement from mag 78, the one with adelard dekker. they put together the pieces about the table. melanie goes to tim and martin, and they don't believe her, but she convinces them to come with her, to just see the table, and that's when they destroy it, releasing sasha and letting the not!them loose all at once.

(yes, sasha lives in this au; not because melanie is the archivist, but just because i don't wanna kill sasha, shhh)

there is the canon-typical not-sasha chase, with a sasha that only melanie recognizes along for the ride. jurgen leitner still shows up and traps it, but melanie refuses his offers to talk. none of them want answers, at this point, after prentiss and the not!them; they just want out. they go to elias to try and quit, and are unable to, of course. (even after melanie threatens him with a letter opener.) they are trapped, for now.

everyone takes their time off, although none of them really stay away; tim and martin and georgie are all waiting for their memories of sasha to go right, and after tim and melanie's wounds heal a little, they're meeting almost daily to try and figure out how to leave the institute. but in all the confusion and exhaustion and trauma, one thing all of them forget to do is fill in jon. (how can they? strange spiders and worms are one thing, but this... it all seems a little much.) this ends up being a mistake when, on everyone's first day back to the archives, elias announces a new coworker. he shows jon down, who looks confused and maybe even a little hurt when everyone loudly protests. elias smiles at melanie and tells her it's a shame they can't bring that host of what the ghost on -- that she would surely be a valuable resource to the archives as well.

so i'm not sure where the fic goes from here; in my mind, it's always cut off with elias essentially hiring jon as a hostage to keep the others under control. with the 197 reveal that the web hand picked jon as the archivist, though... i did have a new idea for a continuation. one where, in a sped up timeline with the revelations of s2 and early s3 having come in about a week -- and with the web's chosen archivist finally in the institute -- the web starts to orchestrate situations where jon gets marked alongside melanie. and it catches things before they progress too far. it shows melanie eric delano's tape instead of steering her away -- like it did jon -- in the hopes that melanie will blind herself to get free of the institute. so that the archivist position will be open for jon.

[trensu]

@lemonisinplay continues to bless me with her BRILLIANT thoughts on Jon's Creeping Terror Fun Fact Corner! if i'd known this was gonna become a Thing, i'd have given it a shorter name lololol. She cheerfully pointed out that these kids shows sometimes have an activity section where you can make arts and crafts right in your own home! And who better to lead an arts and crafts segment than the woman who made an accurate map of the distortion?

--

[Scene opens to a dim room. at the center of the shot, a large table covered in files, books, and scattered sheets of paper. An old woman sits in a chair that should dwarf her but seems instead too small to fit her stern expression and perfect posture. Jon stands next to her, eyes flickering from one messily shuffled file to another. His hands are fidgeting, as if he's restraining himself from righting the nearest precarious pile of books. The corner of his mouth flinches down into a scowl before forcing a very false grin]

Jon: It's time for everyone's favorite segment, Get Crafty with Gertrude! Pay close attention, children, so you can tell me what you learned from Gertrude later!

[He stomps off set, muttering something about organization and the value of a clean work space, and for god's sake isn't there a sensible reference system she could be using?? Gertrude's expression does not change but there is a vague air of amusement for a split second before her stern gaze turns back to the camera.]

Gertrude: welcome once again children. do you ever feel like you're being watched? Perhaps you are playing with your toys and you notice out of the corner of your eye the character on the cover of your favorite story book are staring straight at you? Or perhaps you're in your living room with all the family photos on the wall and the eyes of the people you love seem to follow you around the room no matter where you go? But of course, you say to yourself, it's just a book, a photo; it's a coincidence, a trick of the light, that makes you think that

[a quiet ominous pause. the lighting seems to change, throwing her features in stark contrast.]

Gertrude, voice low: This is untrue. Do not lie to yourself. Lies can get you killed. Remember, they are always watching.

[another pause, heavy and thick. then the lighting brightens somewhat. gertrude's features no longer carry the threatening aura displayed moments ago.]

Gertrude: But we can fix that! for today's activity, you'll need a cutting mat, an x-acto knife, and very steady hands [she chuckles]. Pick out a book or picture that has eyes on it. We are going to learn how to remove them so they won't see what you do when you think no one is watching.

[Gertrude pulls out a photo to demonstrate. It features a man with a patronizing smile and eyes that don't quite mesh with the rest of his face. The camera zooms in to focus on her hands as she positions the photo on the cutting mat]

Gertrude, whipping out a knife: Now, you must be sure your knife is as sharp as possible so that--

[an interruption off scene. it sounds like martin but the insistent whispers are hard to make out. Gertrude seems to hear them fine and frowns.]

Gertrude: That's not practical. Adults are not always around and getting rid of all-seeing eyes is significantly more urgent.

[the insistent whispers continue. Gertrude's frown turns into a scowl to rival Jon's.]

Gertrude: If the children can't handle an x-acto knife on their own, they will likely not survive one of the entities and this segment won't matter.

[the whispers get sharp and rise in pitch. Gertrude glares for a moment before heaving a very put-upon sigh.]

Gertrude: For legal reasons, I must ask that you only do this when you have a parent or trusted adult nearby to supervise. I suppose as long as you're within hearing distance, it's fine. if you cut off a finger, they'll be able to hear you scream and come to your aid. although I hardly think losing a pinky is cause for that much concern so long as you staunch the bleeding.

[A muffled shout of frustration is heard. "You completely invalidated the statement!! Safety is important, why does no one understand that safety is important??" It is definitely Martin.]

--

Bonus behind the scenes content

[Jon and Gertrude are arguing vehemently about how to best keep an archive neat. Gertrude maintains an aloof air while Jon steadily gets louder and more irate.

[One of the studio's alley cats roams in and both Gertrude and Jon stop their conversation to simultaneously attempt to pet the cat. Jon throws a surprised glance at Gertrude, who remains cool and collected even as she strokes the cat.]

Jon, shyly: ...you like cats? [his gaze is firmly on the gray tabby as he rubs his knuckles under the cat's chin]

Gertrude, matter of factly: Yes. I heard you Beheld some delinquents who were harassing the Commodore here.

Jon: I did. The Commodore and the others don't deserve that sort of treatment. They've done nothing wrong ever in their lives.

Gertrude: yes, i Know. That's why i love them. I can excuse killing archival assistants but I draw the line at hurting the cats.

Jon, enthused: Yes, cats really are amazing creatures and--wait. you can excuse killing archival assistants??

[the tension ratchets back up. the Commodore senses this and stalks out as jon and gertrude have a stare down, still crouched where they had been petting the cat. Glowing green eyes suddenly blink open to halo Jon's head. Gertrude's own eyes narrow, mouth a firm line.]

Jon, voice deep with power: Ceaseless Watcher, see this unworthy servant--

Gertrude, voice like granite: Young man, don't you dare--

[The compulsion in her words makes Jon stutter but does not stop him. The room starts to tremble beneath the pressure of the sudden power spike between the two avatars]

Stagehand 1: *expletive* not again. we just rebuilt the set!

Stagehand 2: Someone get Martin in here now. And bring Gerry's book!

Stagehand 1: And maybe one of the cats.

[Several members of the team scurry to carry out orders, panic clear on their faces. The last thing we see is Martin skidding into the scene, hurriedly reading from a tome and a ghostly outline starting to emanate from it. Scene cuts to black.]

[kaypeace21]

Analyzing the 5 plays in this drama club poster .From the bts pics of stranger things 4.

So... some of ya’ll know I'm going through the st s4 films given to us by the official st twitter + the films reffed in the show itself or mentioned by the Duffers in interviews .

So I decided to look at the plays mentioned here. Because even if we don't see the monologues in the show directly - the Duffers wouldn't name drop anything unless it inspired them in some way. Similar to films name dropped in the show. Tw : for some dark themes .

This is just a quick little analysis I decided to do since we probably won't get any new st content today (3/22). Nothing too deep. Just mentioning things that caught my interest especially cause these plays have a lot of narrative connections to the st s4 movies I've been watching.

Invitation to a march (Authur laurents)

Reminds me of the stancy/jancy love triangle. "A young woman is having second thoughts about doing the right thing and marrying a respectable , rich, kind, young man with good prospects.By way of a prewedding diversion, this woman becomes interested in the passionate but poor and entirely unsuitable son of a local landlord.Basically, the plot concerns the efforts of Norma Brown to choose between a conventional fiance who "puts her to sleep" but is wealthy (like what her own mother did) or go for this new-poor guy. The play is principally interested in how this youthful love triangle affects the three mothers involved (whether the kids like it or not)

12th night (Shakespeare)

 - viola (el) wrongly assumes a family member (hopper) is dead. She dresses up as a man named 'cesario'. A girl named Olivia falls for 'cesario' (violet dressed as a man). "Finally, when 'Cesario' and Sebastian (violet's twin brother: assumed to have drowned - Will) appear in the presence of Olivia there is more wonder and confusion at their physical similarity. Taking Sebastian for 'Cesario', Olivia asks him to marry her, and they are secretly married in a church. Cough if Olivia is 'straight' cause she fell for Viola (as a doppleganger dressed like her twin brother).Mike being into el who multiple characters in s1 said looked like a boy and specifically like Will is...suspish and a hint he's not straight lol. just like Olivia they're both into guys . plus, this play just has a butt load of love triangles (ugh i hated that aspect). There was also romantically coded letters (which was in the s4 films) . One character is also thrown into an insane asylum and framed as 'insane'.'Pretending that Malvolio is insane, they lock him up in a dark chamber. Feste visits him to mock his insanity'. We all know the psych hospital will be narratively important- talked about it more here.

The seagull (Anton Chekhov-russian)

similar to how I believed s4 will show m*#even already broken up since the months between s3-4 : act 3 (s3) ends with Nina begging for one last chance to be with Trigorin before he leaves/moves away. They kiss and make plans to meet again in Moscow.And in act 4 there's a timeskip where it shows they've been broken up for a long time between acts- and its established they never actually loved eachother. Do i even have to spell out why this parallels the m*#even ending in s3? There is also a play within the play (this is common in a lot of the st films- they have plays- or a story within a story- which illustrate certain themes or emotions of the characters within said film : blackswan, children of paradise, highschool musical, Rushmore, book of Henry, welcome to marwen, never ending story, romancing the stone, wet hot American summer, etc).The play is Konstantin's latest attempt at creating a dense symbolist work. There is also alot of love triangles in the seagull. TW!: for se#ual ab*se/su*cidal thoughts/ inc*st (here and in other play segments). The seagull motif reminds me a lot of Jonathan's rabbit story.Konstantin romantically into Nina shows up to give her a gull that he has shot. Nina is confused and horrified . Trigorin sees the gull that Konstantin has shot and muses to Nina on how he could use it as a subject for a short story: "The plot for the short story: a young girl lives all her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a gull, and she's happy and free, like a gull. But a man arrives by chance, and when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this gull."  This immediately reminded me of jon's rabbit story and some of the movies on the s4 list . Like in forrest gump- Jenny (who is poor) was se*ually ab*sed as a very young girl by her father. As a child she runs away into a field-away from her alcoholic father yelling at her -there she prays that she can "be a bird so I can fly far far away" .

Jenny as an adult struggles with this unresolved trauma- being with ab*sive partners, doing dr*gs, and having su*cidal thoughts . She as an adult when contemplating su*icide, jokes 'you think i can fly like a bird ?' while looking down at a bridge.God-i'm worried about jonathan (Jenny was also a musician sort of like jon). In another s4 movie example ' mystic river ' :(in the 80s) a preteen baseball playing boy is r*ped by men in the woods. He later says he wishes he could become an undead monster to not feel the pain of that experience - cause quote " if I'm not human anymore maybe the pain will stop" (Will) . slightly off topic but he also has another personality, imagines a alternate word that dissappears when he turns his head. And as a less direct animal parallel to the play - the boy from the film also imagined his perpetrators as monsters and wolves to cope.In 'getout' the photographer character sees a dead deer in the woods and it represents a parent/his own childhood tra*ma relating to his past. similarly in 'prince of tides' the 2 siblings as kids were ra*ed by men. The older brother remembered it and the younger sibling developed DID (so didn't remember but she would draw wolves- as the perpetrators/villains in her picture stories she created . In the film they also had an ab*sive dad and were very poor. She also tried k*ling herself multiple times-but started to get better after remembering the source of her pain and trauma.  There is also the theme of multiple attempted su*cides in the play- and the play ends with yet another attempt- and the audience is left unaware of the artist's fate at the end of the play.

The tempest (Shakespeare)

Prospereo - (the perceived antagonist) is a wizard with monstrous looks, storm powers , and ability to create monster-dogs

He wants revenge on a man who tried ra*ing his family member & revenge on his other family member who wronged him years ago. I mean... pretty much my did theory.But in the end.Prospero decides to show his enemies the mercy that they did not show him twelve years earlier. He tells Ariel to bring the men to him, he will restore their sanity and then renounce magic forever.Prospero breaks the spell that the men are under .

Diary of a scoundrel (Alexander Ostrovsky-Russian)

-  I suppose this could loosely relate to Jonathan? Glumov, is a young man from an impoverished family lacking status seeking entrance into society's pampered class. A 19th-century Russian scoundrel must scheme his way out of his meager life in a small apartment -whatever it takes.He has a quick mind and some talent for seeing through the hypocrisies of people around him ( Jonathan does make a lot of social critiques about society). That gives him some advantages. A tale of one man's mission to finagle his way into upper-class society and find a cushy job. Set in 1874, this social comedy follows Glumov, a Russian youth who begins his ambitious ascent to social esteem. He progresses by wit, guile and rhetoric. Pitting one stupid person against another, he soon gains his ends. To reach these goals, Glumov will lie, flatter, and cater to the vanities of the wealthy. Unable to contain his disgust with his victims, Glumov decides to relieve his unvoiced satirical comments by recording his schemes in a diary. But he is tripped up by his uncle's wife, to whom he has made passionate love on his way to success. At the end of the play, his diary is stolen and his duplicity exposed, but he can nevertheless suceeds. The author is much more critical about the high society itself than about the main character, so the play keeps attracting generations of directors by opening possibilities for political criticism while also avoiding naming names of the current rulers.The play's aim was to overthrow bourgeois tradition and establish a class-conscious art called eccentricism giving a deliberately comic portrayal of reality.

I suppose I notice some possible commonalities-  besides s3 critiquing the wealthy/capitalism in comedic ways . jonathan since s1 has worried about his family's finances / had some resentment toward the rich . In some of the s4 movies ‘orphan’ & ‘ girl interrupted’ someone reads their diary out loud to get at them (in girl interrupted the winona character’s diary even had critiques of her new friends).  Alot of movies also have someone (usually a teen/young adult) making a documentary about their life -which could narratively replace said diary? A few movies have a poor guy adjusting to snobby rich social circles (or being poor and then getting money)- titanic, kingsmen, karate kid, the craft , godfather,�� wardogs,into the spiderverse,flashdance, and many others . And movies like wardogs has a poor-young-character do shady things to finacially support his family . There’s also that whole uncle’s wife thing- which makes me uncomfortable for obvious reasons (but I’m just thinking of Lonnie’s creepy gf who was into him). A few movies had the guy’s step mom innappropriately hit on him- orange county & you got mail. And him trying to avoid her advances. Or...not to mention ... it may be a problematic coincidence /trope. But in enter the void -the guy who needs to finacially support his sibling/ does dr*gs -hooks up with his dr*g dealing friend’s married mom (who would give him money).  Or in gilbert grape- the poor teen-who has to finacially support his siblings/single mom-has his endgame relationship be a girl his own age. But before that he h*oked up with a married woman -who would give him money. Don’s plum -young film guy-propositioned by older female film director (for dream job). Not even mentioning the other films that have the guy hooking up with toxic older women (like ‘the graduate’). Or analyze this-where the therapist accuses him of having an Oedipus complex (not touching that one... but the guy in ‘enter the void’ a 100% had one). It’s possible those movies were just- inspo for s3?  A coincidence? Or s3 was foreshadowing for this in s4- but unlike s3 it will accurately be played as wrong  and a sign of Jonathan recreating past tra*ma caused by Lonnie (cough like the photos) /being desperate for money. And not played ‘comedically’ like how it mostly was in s3. But shown as self destructive  (for Jon) and immoral on the Woman’s end. Like... Billy and Jon are character foils. Both are older siblings into rock music, with ab*sive dads who shoved them into walls. Both lose it (and beat steve to a pulp when Steve accidentally triggers their daddy issues). In s3 it’s established womanizer Billy has mommy issues, than he tries ho*king up with someone his mom’s age, and the characters ref ‘back to the future ‘ and Steve incorrectly says it’s about “alex p keaton trying to bang his mom.” This could illustrate his subconscious issues with parental figures/adults cause of Lonnie’s  possible past se*ual ab*se . One film the friend even says to the guy “you don’t have friends!” guy b: i have friends! him:  no you have acquaintances! ADMIT IT! YOU’RE AFRAID OF MEN!I mean-Jonathan liked Nancy- but he initially hooked up with her cause he wanted to prove he didn’t have ‘trust issues’ from his dad. Also it’s prob a bit of a reach (and maybe a coincidence)- but the fact Murray in the same breath compares Steve (Nancy’s then bf) and Lonnie  ... uh... if you think too long about it ... it’s very sinister .  Especially because in s3: muray tells Joyce  that despite her wanting to be with a nice guy, she’s curious about “the brute” Hopper despite him reminding her of a past “bad relationship”(aka Lonnie). Like- yeah connect some dots.  Quite a few films (other than forrest gump) also have the character who (as a kid) was  r*ped by their dad/parent-  begin to do dr*gs/be pr*miscuous as adults since they never learned to properly cope with their trauma (’girl with the dragon tattoo’,  ‘black swan’, and ‘magnolia’). Unfortunately the whole relative doing such things to kid-relatives is in at least 30+ movies. 

Personally, i would be MUCH happier if Jon had a age appropriate romance- and had not a single creepy adult near him. A few movies actually imply Lonnie gets yet another ‘new model’  replacing his gf in her 20s with a new gf- who is ‘barely l*gal” and just turned 18. so there’s that possibility as well- that she’s jonathan’s age.I just want Jonathan-happy &safe. GOD. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

[unculturedmamoswine]

Tortall Daemon AU: Aly

@phillyofcheesesteak and @meallaaoi both very kindly asked for more Tortall Daemon AU stuff ages ago, and I guess I finally found some motivation to write more! Get ready for Aly’s daemon, everyone!

If you want to catch up on my Tortall Daemon AU, here is my first post, about Alanna, my second, about Jon, my third, about Daine, and my fourth, about George.

Aly’s daemon is what is called a scrub jay in our world, but most people here (and in Tortall) call it a blue jay. (Not to be confused with the actual blue jay, which is a different bird.) In my AU, non-mammal daemons run in the Cooper line, and Aly certainly favors her father. This also means that father and daughter both have blue daemons, which is kind of fun, though is really nothing more than a strange coincidence in-universe, like Alanna and Faithful having the same eye color.

Aly, being sixteen at the outset of her novel, settles before it begins. However, she was a rather late settler: her daemon only chooses his jay form about a year before Trickster’s Choice begins. This is another example of Aly’s portrayal as a teen who hasn’t grown up enough for her parents’ comfort. (In the beginning of the novel, Aly of course dyes her hair blue to match her soul’s feathers.)

Jays are corvids, which are quite intelligent birds, fitting for a clever girl like Aly. This would be something that people might be aware of in a vague way in the Tortall universe, but I doubt the average person would grasp the significance of his form, and certainly even the most learned of bird scholars wouldn’t know what we know today, which is that jays may be among the smartest non-human animals. They’re also common in both Tortall and the Copper Isles, meaning Aly wouldn’t stand out in a crowd, despite her daemon’s flashy blue plumage. Having such a common daemon would be of a lot of use for Aly’s cover as a slave and a simple maid, as commoners and servants have the rather unfair stereotype of usually having plain and unassuming daemons. Nobles, after all, want to believe that their souls are beautiful and rare, unlike those of the common rabble. As a matter of fact, in my AU, it’s not unusual for picky nobles to choose servants with specific daemons. It wouldn’t be unusual for a noblewoman to, for instance, discriminate against a candidate for a maid’s position because she has a venomous snake for a daemon, or a brilliant tropical bird.

Aly and her daemon would become a lot closer during their time as a slave in the Copper Isles. Not to say that they didn’t love and value each other before, but they were both always a little independent from each other, and never felt the need to sit around having heart-to-hearts. But once they’re isolated from everything they’ve ever known, and they get to a point where they can only trust each other and Nawat, they start communicating more. This is intended to represent the fact that Aly is finally doing the kind of work she really wants to do; she’s self-actualizing, I suppose, and is able to take herself seriously as an adult. However, her ability to almost consider her daemon as a part of her spy network separate from herself ends up being quite useful, even if he isn’t capable of traveling far from his human.

In interactions with Kyprioth, Aly’s daemon would be completely unfazed by the god. Since he’s not human, the no-touch taboo wouldn’t apply to him, and the jay would perch on Kyprioth’s body and peck at his bangles and beads, partially to show that he and Aly aren’t intimidated by him. (He is a little bolder about this than Aly would like, as a matter of fact, but she respects that her daemon usually has good ideas, even if she doesn’t always know his motivations.) Kyprioth would find this charming, and a sign that he chose a good vessel.

Of course, on a meta level, I chose a corvid for Aly to link her with Nawat, who is himself a corvid. Two brilliant birds, falling in love. What could be better? The significance of her daemon being a corvid is probably not something that means much to either of them; I suspect that crows are vaguely aware of the concept that jays are sort of their cousins, but they aren’t sentimental about it. Additionally, animals just find the idea of daemons to be more human than anything else, so Aly’s daemon’s shape means less to Nawat than the fact that she has one at all. I think it would take time for Nawat to understand the importance of Aly’s daemon. Humans have very complex relationships with their souls: daemons have their own ideas and thoughts, but are also undeniably part of a greater whole. At first, Nawat would be dismissive of Aly’s jay, and later he would grow to love him as much as anyone loves their partner. Nawat would also be a little disappointed that Aly’s jay couldn’t go flying with him, given that daemons can’t go far from their humans. Aly might be aware that jays and crows are related, or she might not. She isn’t a biologist, after all, but perhaps her Aunt Daine mentioned it to her at some point.

Regarding Aly and Nawat’s kids: they’re human, in the sense that they have daemons, but they are able to turn into crows as well, in keeping with the short story Nawat. I suspect that the forms their daemons will take will just end up being in keeping with the way anyone settles: maybe one is a sailor and so she ends up with a big tuna for a daemon, or perhaps one who values his avian heritage might choose a bird for a daemon, who knows?

[fridayfirefly]

Lost and Found [Part Eleven]

Masterlist | Ao3

Despite the fact that he didn't get to bed until 2 AM that morning, Damian still woke up at 6 AM with the sunrise. Sleep deprivation was the last worry on his mind when his Soulmate - beautiful, breathtaking Marinette - was sleeping just one hall down from him.

He met Alfred in the kitchen, already preparing for the meals of the day. The waffle batter was already mixed, coffee was already brewing, and butter was already softening on the counter. "Do you need any help preparing breakfast?"

Alfred shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I pride myself in my ability to keep this kitchen under control, no matter how many visitors we have. Besides, I'm sure you would rather spend your morning getting ready for your day with your Soulmate than in the kitchen with me."

Damian nodded. "I'll see you at breakfast, then."

"I look forward to meeting Miss Dupain-Cheng."

Damian left the kitchen and made his way to the gardens, thinking about the night before.

They had gotten back to the Manor at 1:30 AM, too late for the Parisian guests to meet the Wayne family. Damian walked Marinette to her room to let her get some rest, wishing all the while that they could stay up together until the sunrise. Rationally, he knew that Marinette needed her sleep, especially with the drastic time change, but his emotions refused to let her go so soon. However, logic won out in the end, and he kissed her cheek and wished her goodnight. As Damian walked Chloé to her room, taking over for Jason while his brother packed his bags back in his Gotham apartment, Damian asked Chloé for a favor. There was a certain plan he wanted to put into action, that he needed some assistance with. Chloé agreed to help him out and their plan was set: in the morning, Chloé would bring Marinette to her room so that the two girls could get ready together, while Damian brought to Marinette's room a vase of fresh-cut flowers and a handwritten letter asking to take her on a date.

Chloé called his plan "sickeningly romantic", but said it with the sort of wistful smile that made Damian send a text to Jason advising his brother to bring flowers for his own Soulmate. Maybe it was sickeningly romantic, Damian thought over the concept, but he knew that it wasn't a bad thing. Emotions had been difficult for him at first, growing up the way he did, but he now knew better than to try and hide that part of himself from Marinette.

Damian already picked out which flowers to cut days in advance, fragrant purple wisteria and delicate white roses, which he got from the garden before the morning dew had burned off of them. He placed them in the glass vase, arranging and re-arranging them the whole way up to Marinette's room. He knocked on the door, and when there was no reply, he nudged it open. A flash of red by the window caught his eyes, but by the time his eyes focused on the spot, nothing was there. Shrugging it off as a trick of the light, Damian placed the vase of flowers on her bedside table and set down the note beside it. The note, which despite its simplicity had taken several drafts to perfect, read: Dear Marinette, I hope you slept well last night. Breakfast will be served at 8:00 AM. With your permission, I would like to spend today showing you around the city. Once the wedding approaches, I'm certain that we will both be busier, so I would like to get as much time with you now as possible. Sincerely, your Soulmate, Damian

With his plan completed, Damian left the room to go get ready for his first day with Marinette. He quickly sent a text to Chloé, giving her the all-clear to let Marinette return to her room.

Damian had just gotten out of the shower when he saw a note sitting on his bathroom counter. In what was unmistakably Marinette's handwriting, Dear Damian, I would love to go on a date with you today. Sincerely, your Soulmate, Marinette.

Damian breathed out a sigh of relief as the lingering doubt that Marinette might have changed her mind in the last six hours faded away. It is a silly fear, one that Damian wasn't used to indulging in. However, Marinette seemed to bring out all the little human characteristics that the League of Shadows had trained out of him when he was young. A younger Damian would have hated Marinette for it, but in the present day, in the privacy of his room, Damian smiled and let the feeling of relief wash over him.

——————————————————————

Marinette, Chloé, and Nino were all at the dining room table with Jon when Damian entered the room. Marinette brightened up as soon as she saw him. "Damian!" If Damian thought that Marinette looked beautiful last night (which he did) with tangled hair and tired eyes from a seven-hour plane ride, she looked downright breathtaking that morning, in a pretty pale pink dress, with her hair done up in a bun, tendrils curling around her face.

"Good morning, Marinette. I hope you slept well."

"I slept great." A look of annoyance took over Marinette's face. "Even though someone woke me up early on someone else's orders." Marinette's expression shifted from indignation to a bright smile. "I did appreciate the flowers, though, so thank you for those."

"You're very welcome." Damian was pleased that she liked them. He was a little troubled by how intently he was watching her facial expression. "Concerning our date tonight-"

Damian was cut off by the sound of voices coming down the hallway. Richard walked in beside Babs in her wheelchair, the couple having a lively debate about what to do for their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. "We have to hire one. How often in your life do you get the opportunity to hire a stripper?" argued Babs.

"Alright," conceded Richard, "We get one stripper, and we have him split time between both parties. Now onto decorations - I'm thinking we each pick the decorations for each other's parties, and then it's like a surprise when we get there. And I'm not only saying this because I found the best bachelorette decorations on eBay and I already placed a bid."

Chloé broke the silence that followed in the dining room, as a muffled laugh escaped the hand she had pressed over her mouth. "I'm sorry, but aren't you Waynes billionaires? Can't you afford to hire two strippers?"

"Not billionaires," Tim chimed in as he walked into the room with Connor. "Every time Bruce comes close to being a billionaire, he increases the wages of all Wayne Enterprise employees except for himself and donates a ton of money to charity."

"I suppose we could hire two strippers, but then what if one of them is better than the other. That wouldn't be fair," mused Barbara.

"We could have them switch halfway through, that way we each get the same experience," Richard added.

"How about, instead of arguing the logistics of strippers, you greet the Soulmates who just arrived last night?" asked Jon, with a tone of voice that very clearly demonstrated how absurd he felt their conversation was. Damian had spent too much time with Richard and Babs over the past few weeks of wedding planning - nothing that came out of their mouths phased him anymore.

"Oh, hello Soulmates of my brothers and Soulmate of my brother's Soulmate's brother. I'm Dick."

"Babs," said Babs with a wave.

"Tim."

"Conner."

Richard started pointing to each of the Parisians. "You must be Marinette, Damian's Soulmate. You're Nino, Jon's Soulmate. And you are..?"

"Chloé, my platonic Soulmate," said Jason as he walked into the room.

"I can introduce myself," snapped Chloé, glowering at Jason, who looked a bit sheepish as he sat down in the chair next to her.

Jason picked up his fork and waved it between Chloé and Marinette. "So you two know each other."

Marinette nodded. "We've all known each other since we were kids. Chloé, Nino, and I have been in the same class since maternelle - which you call kindergarten in America. We've been best friends for years now."

"Now that's a coincidence. Both sets of three Soulmates knew each other before they met up with their other halves." Richard nodded, looking the three Parisians up and down.

"Coincidence is putting it mildly. Statistically, it's incredibly improbable. I didn't run the numbers, but I'm sure if I did, it would be in the range of one in a trillion," Tim piped up.

"Good luck, I suppose," said Marinette with a shrug.

"Luck, coincidence, statistical improbability - call it whatever you want to call it. It's still mind-boggling that out of 7 billion people, you three - best friends who go to the same school - end up with Soulmates who are all family."

The conversation turned to other topics as the table waited for Bruce to arrive before they started breakfast. Richard got Marinette talking about her aspiring career as a designer, and it instantly brought Marinette out of her shell. Her passion and enthusiasm were contagious; Damian couldn't help but smile softly to himself as he watched her explain to Richard and Babs the inspiration behind her latest collection of dresses named The City of Lights, which incorporated elements of Parisian fashion throughout the ages, with a focus on finding innovative ways to incorporate light into the dresses. As Marinette was explaining in depth the pros and cons between tea candles and real candles (according to Marinette, an open flame near your hand-crafted creation is a very big con, but she felt so strongly against tea candle that she would rather her dress catch on fire than ruin the integrity of her design), Bruce walked in, wearing a bathrobe with the words World's Best Dad on the back, plaid flannel pajama pants, and fuzzy slippers. Overall, he looked nothing like the intimidating Batman and everything like a regular Dad on a Saturday morning. Damian had to admit, it was a good strategy for putting their new houseguests at ease, especially Marinette and Chloé, who were meeting their Soulmates' father for the very first time.

"Good morning everyone," said Bruce. He grabbed his coffee mug off the counter, filled it to the brim, chugged it all in one go, then refilled it and took it to the table. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," Alfred replied as he walked in with a platter stacked full of them. "Please don't spill any syrup on the tablecloth, it's a pain to get out. And before you ask, yes, I am talking to you, Richard."

"One time," Richard grumbled. "You spill an entire bottle of syrup on the tablecloth one time, and suddenly that's all anyone remembers."

Marinette laughed. "I take it I'm not the clumsiest person at the table, then."

"I'm not clumsy. I'm just sporadically situationally unaware," Richard defended.

"Clumsy," teased Babs, flicking Richard's nose and stealing the last bite of pancake off his plate. They were so effortlessly domestic, affectionate with each other all the time in a way Damian was beginning to envy. Damian kept his expression still as he sat in internal shock at the realization that he was jealous of what Richard and Babs had together. Damian was a naturally private person; he had assumed he would despise public displays of affection. However, with Marinette, he could see the appeal. Marinette had flipped his whole worldview on its head. Now he wanted romantic outings and for everyone to know that she was his. It was a strange and foreign feeling, but deep down it felt right.

——————————————————————

As breakfast winded down, Damian offered to show Marinette around the house. The first place he took her was to the gardens. Damian knew that Marinette didn't like surprises all that much, so he planned on explaining to her exactly what they would be doing for their date.

"The gardens are so pretty!" exclaimed Marinette. "Is this where the wedding will be held?"

"Yes. The ceremony will be at the gazebo in the center of the rose garden."

"I'm sure it will be lovely," said Marinette with a soft smile on her face.

"For our date today, I was hoping I could show you around some of my favorite spots in the city. If you would rather stay at the Manor, I understand but-"

Marinette cut him off. "I would love that. I might need to change my shoes though." She gestured to the three-inch heels on her feet."

"I would advise bringing along a pair of good walking shoes. I would hate for you to get hurt."

"It would be a shame to break my ankle on our very first date," agreed Marinette. "I'll just go grab a change of shoes and my purse, and then we can go."

Damian smiled at her. "I'll wait for you here."

Damian watched Marinette leave, thinking of all his favorite things he could finally show her, and all of her smiles he could finally see.

Taglist: @fanboy7794 @mikantsume @hetalia-lover-is-here @howtoshuckatlife @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @redscarlet95 @derpingrainbow @friedchickening @melicmusicmagic @beautym3 @kunstner1 @shizukiryuu @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @crazylittlemunchkin @black-streak @darkshadowguardian @mystery-5-5 @trubel43 @fandomfan315 @vincentvangoose @royalchaoticfangirl @mooshoon @drama-queen-supreme @kae690 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @zoerayne2426 @littleredrobinhoodlum @lunar-wolf-warrior @dani-ari @sam-spectra @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @interobanginyourmom @northernbluetongue @eliza-bich @romanoff-queen @scribblinggraveyard @dur55 @jeminiikrystal @sassakitty @miss-mysterys-blog @aegyobutpsycho2 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @chaosace @pepelachanel @sturchling @amayakans @athenalovesredsblog @boxercity1

[jazsplaylist]

FAVORITE SONGS OF 2021: PART IIII / LAST PART

We are wrapping up the hot mess that is my favorite songs of 2021!

These songs are purely based on how much I’ve personally enjoyed them and listened to them, not necessarily objective quality or critical acclaim. This is purely the fact that I just vibe with them.

THIS IS TOP TEN BABYYYYYYY!

#10: Billie Bossa Nova - Billie Eilish

This song is just so pretty. Billie was truly meant to sing these lounge jazzy type songs - her voice is perfect for sensual, quiet and romantic songs like this one. Is it bad that I want a full album with this vibe?

Favorite lyrics: “Nobody saw me in the lobby / Nobody saw me in your arms”

#9: Tipsy - Spotify Singles - Chloe x Halle

I feel like I sort of cheated (again). No, but I genuinely prefer this a lot over the original arrangement. The production is less noisy and cleaner, but it’s still interesting because it brings a different vibe. Their vocals are also a lot pleasant as they went for a more “pretty” approach of singing, compared to the album version where they’re singing a bit more off-pitch and “sloppily” to emphasize the “tipsy” part. I love that they can always find something new with their songs and play around with it, which is why I think this song deserves to be highlighted. Also, don’t we all just love songs about murdering men???

Favorite lyrics: “And I don't give no apologies / If you lose a life, that's not on me”

#8: Angel Baby - Troye Sivan

Even though this came out sometime during fall, I didn’t discover this until early December. But you better believe when I started listening to it, I made up for those months I lost. I can’t remember a day that has gone by where I haven’t listened to this less than five times a day. I can’t fully grasp why I got so quickly attached to it, but the initial feeling I got was that it feels like the kind of song I would bawl my eyes to at age 5. It’s very specific, but one of the things I remember about me as a young child was listening to certain songs and wanting to cry even though I didn’t know what they meant. I definitely did not understand English at that age, so I wouldn’t have understood this song if I heard it then. Whatever this song has, it makes my inner child cry.

Favorite lyrics: “Started giving up on the word "forever" / Until you gave up heaven so we could be together”

#7: Deserve You - Justin Bieber

Okay, this might be one of the best Bieber songs yet. This song is honestly close to pop perfection and I don’t understand you if you don’t agree. The drums transition to the chorus? Definitely on the list of best 2 seconds of pop music in 2021. Is it also a coincidence that the best tracks on this album are co-written by Jon Bellion? No.

Favorite lyrics: “I'm on my ten thousandth life / Nine thousand nine hundred nine and it slipped my hands / But this the one I'm not giving up”

#6: voodoo voodoo - iris & SKAAR

The best Norwegian collab of 2021, and I knew it couldn’t be topped when it came out in January. Who knew that a witchy, ethereal, spooky bop was what 2021 needed? Highly slept on song by two amazing artists - how does this song only have 200k streams? I’m mad.

Favorite lyrics: “But don't worry, I'm a good girl, really (really?) / Just playing, I'm the reason you'll need therapy, baby”

#5: Leave The Door Open - Silk Sonic

The world got a whole lot better when Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak decided to release this. I’m really happy that Bruno Mars decided to continue doing retro R&B, soul/funk type of music, but I’m happier he decided to do it with Anderson .Paak. They’re truly a golden duo meant to make music together, and I really, really hope this isn’t the first and last time we see a collaboration between them. 

Favorite lyrics: “I'm talking kissing, cuddling / Rose petals in the bathtub / Girl, let's jump in, it's bubbling”

#4: Until The Night Falls - Hedda Mae

I’m so weak for the Y2K vibe, but I’m realizing that I think I prefer songs that sound like Y2K songs and made within the past 3-4 years more than songs that actually were made in that era. This song makes me so nostalgic for the kind of music I didn’t know I was nostalgic over. It reminds me a lot of pop music we heard from Norwegian and other Scandinavian artists in the early 2000s, because there was a specific way they created melodies back then. And the chorus melody is like??? The best ever??

Favorite lyrics: “So I'm keeping my head cold / I'll be okay until night falls / But then I'll go over it again”

#3: Kiss Me More (feat. SZA) - Doja Cat

This, along with “Leave The Door Open”, was my most played song of 2021. It just hits all the spots. SZA’s verse is amazing, Doja sounds great and it’s a super fun and playful track. I don’t think I need to say anything more than that, because everyone knows how great this song is.

Favorite lyrics: “I, I feel like fuckin' somethin' / But we could be corny, fuck it”

#2: All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version) (From The Vault) - Taylor Swift

Are we surprised? One of Taylor’s greatest songs, the biggest fan and critics favorite of all time, in all its glory. Do we really believe all of the added lyrics were written during that first session? Absolutely not, but every added verse, chorus and bridge is worth all the gold to make this song even greater than it once was. All Too Well 5 minutes who? I don’t know her.

Favorite lyrics: (how do i choose just one) “And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you / But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame”

AAAAAND for some honorable mentions before we get to SONG OF THE YEAR !!

Clothes - Scuuut

Fancy - Lennon Stella

Introvert - Little Simz

Rather Be - James Vickery

Voila - Barbara Pravi

AND THE SONG OF THE YEAR GOES TO.......

#1: Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish

Like most people, I wish I had recorded my reaction to the second part of this song, because that was a very unexpected experience. While there were new elements and sides of Billie in the album before this, there’s nothing like starting a song like we always have heard her: soft, quiet singing over an acoustic instrument. You think, this is where this song is going? That’s fine, it’s a pretty song, nothing special. Then the guitar picks up and you’re like, okay interesting, nothing biggie. Then it changes to an electric guitar, and the curiosity increases, you wonder if this might go somewhere… then “and I don’t talk sh– about you” kicks in and she’s yelling and the song intensifies and distorts and ?!?!?!? I get chills listening to it every time just thinking back to the first time I experienced this. Absolutely baffled that this isn’t the album closer, because it should 100% be.

Favorite lyrics: “I could talk about every time that you showed up on time But I'd have an empty line 'cause you never did”

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

On assumptions, understanding, belonging and love.

Moments in Martin's journey understanding other people and finally himself.

or

Martin's journey in understanding, accepting and loving his asexuality.

a/n: some quick notes: Jon is sex repulsed, Martin is somewhere between neutral and favorable. While Tim and Sasha dont exactlty say they are aro they are! Jon is non-binary and uses he/they pronouns and i desperatly wanted to explore that but this is already twice as long than intended-

also while I am (half) Bolivian and speak spanish I am not at all fluent in Tamil so if there is any mistakes lmk! hope you all enjoy!

-------------------

Sasha had convinced them to go get drinks together, as it had been a rather stressful couple of weeks since Martin came back from the siege of his apartment by Jane Prentiss.

Sleeping in the archives was not exactly helping the situation for Martin, or Jon for that matter.

So they decided to go to a pub and try to force a sense of normality everyone really needed.

Martin was having a great time, with the relative calm and safety he hadn’t had in a while, even Jon had something like a smile playing on his lips as Tim told a story from one of his university mates that had accidentally thrown his roommate's engagement ring down a drain. 

Martin zoned out for a bit, enjoying the pleasant buzz of the alcohol and his friends laughter and Jon’s animated movements that indicated that he was talking about something he actually found interesting.

 Jon was apparently telling his own story with some relation to engagement, something about a girl at a wedding that had acted strangely, Martin caught something about “purposely spilling wine on her dress”, which Martin agreed was quite wierd. 

“She was totally trying to woo you, Jon.” Sasha said as Jon got to the bit where they had to help her find some clean towels in a storage closet. 

 “I assumed she was just having a rather hard time,” Jon said, seemingly only now thinking of the implications of spilling wine on your dress and then faking needing help, to be fair to Jon that was a very weird tactic to pull and Martin would not have put two and two together either.

“Well what did you do in that closet then?” Tim asked with an incredibly over the top suggestive look. 

Jon pulled a face then, Martin thought it looked rather endearing really with his nose all scrunched up and his eyes narrowed, but he was clearly uneasy. 

“I don’t- I don’t really do… that sort of thing.”

Martin snapped back in the moment, feeling a weird but familiar anxiety in his stomach as the conversation lulled. He felt rather protective for a moment, instinctively knowing this seemed important. This turned out to be rather unnecessary, as Tim spoke up again quickly.

“Oh,” He and then, earnestly, ”I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Jon.” 

And then Jon smiled, properly, like he didn’t often and waved his hand dismissively but pleased.

“Thank you, well it's not like you could have known that, but anyway as I was saying-” 

 It was but a moment, but it stuck with Martin for a bit, mulling it over and not really understanding his own reaction.

 Eventually Martin settled back into the pleasant buzz, enjoying his friends chatter and Jon’s over exaggerated hand gestures.

-

It was an uncharacteristically slow day in the archives, not a worm in sight and Martin had only a bit of boring research to do for a very clearly fake statement.

Martin usually tried to be nice about it but this one featured a guy named “Richard Dickson” and was entirely about a fever dream someone had about a haunted accordion, he had listened to the recording that Jon had emailed him and it sounded like even he was having a very hard time trying not to laugh at it.

“Who comes up with this stuff?” Sasha said as she handed him back the statement. “Sure, I know we are being attacked by a worm woman but I really hope we can draw the line at haunted accordions that play spooky renditions of High School Musical and a prophetic dream guy called Dick Dickson.”

She was laughing too and Martin thought that she looked better than she had in awhile, it was nice, seeing her like this. 

“Well at least I won’t have to stay extra time for the research of this one, I would go home early but.” he shrugged and gestured in a you know the whole staying here cause of a worm woman situation, she gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well I am leaving early, got a very fun evening planned.” she said with a wink.

She had looked really rather excited and somewhat giddy all day, Martin realized. 

“Oh,” Martin said, “Who is the lucky person then?”

Sasha looked at him puzzled for a few seconds, slowly blinking at him, then the penny dropped.

“What? Oh no, I mean- Tim I guess, we usually have a sort of movie night every once in a while, this one is extra special though, because I found this book about the categorisation of demons, it’s partially in latin? Tim said he would help me look into it. ”

Martin felt his face heat up, feeling the urge to profusely apologize, Sasha continued however:

“It’s not like that though,” she said with a rather annoyed look, and then somewhat softer, “I am not really a dating kind of person, you know?”

Martin wasn’t sure he fully understood what she meant, but that was fine and she was clearly still very excited, so he relaxed.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have assumed, I do hope it’s not one of those books Jon goes on about, they aren't exactly...friendly.”

Her eyes lit up once again.

“Oh it's definitely not a Leitner! I do look out for that sort of thing, the interesting thing about the book is though-”

And she went on for a bit, the moment somewhat unimportant in a way but it still churned in Martin’s mind. 

-

Things with Sasha...shifted after the Jane Prentiss attack, everyone had different ways to cope with trauma of course, Martin knew that.

Maybe that was the thing really, while Tim, Jon and Martin himself were having a hard time processing (even if Tim and Jon refused to properly acknowledge it) Sasha seemed fine, a few weeks of being shaken maybe and she was now back to her regular old self. 

She even had a new boyfriend, Martin had no idea why that irked him so much.

He’d said as much to Tim, who was sitting next to him while both slacked off from their jobs on the stairs to the back courtyard of the institute (why there even was a courtyard was one of the great mysteries of this place).

Tim looked uncharacteristically solemn, seldom did he let his walls down like this. 

“I thought I was in love with her you know,” he said rather suddenly, “I mean we’ve been friends for years now and there was- is no one I would rather spend time with, so I mean if not her then- then who?”

He sighed and Martin made comforting noise, trying not to break whatever spell had made Tim genuinely speak about his feelings. 

“I mean I figured out I wasn’t in love with her before this whole...thing, we talked about it, I think? Some stuff is hazy. Just- I shouldn’t be jealous you know? She is allowed to have a boyfriend.”

“Your feelings are valid no matter what they are.” Martin said seriously.

Tim sighed and leaned into Martin, who enveloped him in his arms.

“Sure, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.” 

And well there wasn’t much Martin could say about that.

After a bit of comfortable hugging silence Tim spoke up.

“Maybe her boyfriend is a vampire though, I totally get to be jealous about a vampire.”

“Tim don’t say that.” he said, trying to hide a smile. 

“What?” Tim said, pretending to be serious, “Everything is possible Martin, worm women and all that, I could obviously not compete with a vampire and their sexy glittering skin.”

Martin shook his head, not able to contain his laughter anymore.

“Can’t believe you are exposing yourself as someone who watched Twilight.” he said.

Tim smiled wickedly up at him from where he was still half cuddled into him.

“The fact that you got that reference exposes you in turn,” he said, sticking his tongue out, “Check mate.”

“Touché.” 

Then Tim stood up and said: 

“Well, Time to go back to our trans containment zone.”

“The fact that we just happen to be trans and were transferred to the archives is a coincidence.”

To that Tim only answered: “Trans-ferred Martin, can’t you see? You cannot call that a coincidence.” winked and back in through the door he went. 

Martin let out an exaggerated long suffering sigh.

Back inside they walked to their respective desks.

“Well lets hope work gets lets shit.” Tim said. “That’s such a low bar, and yet.”

“Paciencia y fé.” Martin said, which was in his repertoire of spanish phrases that just didn’t pack the same punch in english along with “ya pasara” and “digamos que si”.

Tim shrugged.

“Don’t think whatever grandmother made up that phrase could have imagined it being applied to our situation.”

“And yet we still have to hope for it to get better don’t we, see it works.”

Tim flashed him one last smile as he sat at his desk and Martin went to put on the kettle.

-

Martin had assumed Jon’s I-don’t-do-that-sort-of-thing included dating as well and it hadn’t bothered him really, he enjoyed clinging to his crush to Jon like a small steady comfort, even if he knew it wasn’t actually going to amount to anything, there was no harm in day dreaming after all and Martin was perfectly capable of caring about him as a friend too, it was harmless.

Of course the fact that he now knew Jon had been staying at his ex-girlfriends place and the fact that Jon might actually date people didn’t really change anything.

At least that is what Martin tried to tell himself as he shakily poured two cups of tea and mustered the courage to walk to Jon’s office. 

And he was at least a little right, even if Jon dated people, even if Jon would return his feelings (which Martin really did not let himself dwell on), these were particularly unfavourable circumstances to start a relationship, there was the matter that neither of them was able to string together a conversation, because the mundane ones sounded so inane and hollow and the important ones required being genuine and vulnerable and they might just be somewhat allergic to that. 

And there was the matter of the impending apocalypse they had to stop.

Martin knocked on the door and he heard a soft: “Come in, Martin.” from the other side of the door. 

The office was a mess as always and Jon looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and had aged about ten years in the last few months. 

But Martin’s breath caught in his throat anyway because, as was usual for Jon now, he also looked just a little more...comfortable, as you could anyway. They were wearing a hoodie with cats on it that was just slightly too big and a long flowy patterned skirt. 

Jon clearly caught martin staring because he ran his hand through his hair a bit self-consciously and said: “I know it goes against dress code, but I think you get a pass after you get kidnapped by an evil circus.” 

“Oh I mean, you look nice, I mean it looks nice on you. I didn’t mean to uhm, stare?”

“It was- I was just joking.”

“Oh.” 

They just stared at each other, painful silence falling over them. 

Jon broke the silence clearing their throat.

“So... you brought tea?” They said.

“Yeah, it's for you.” Martin said and immediately cringed because who else would he have brought Jon’s favorite chai exactly the way he always takes it.

Jon smiled though, reaching out to take the cup from him. Their hands brushed just a little and Martin's brain briefly shut down and he realised that maybe he should admit to himself he was really hopeless and too far gone.

That is though, how he ended up stupidly staring at Jon’s hands and how he spotted the shiny black ring on the middle finger of his right hand. 

“Thats a nice ring, don’t think I have ever seen you wear jewelry before.” 

That seemed to snap the tension out of the moment a little, Jon looked down at the ring and smiled a little.

“It's an ace ring,” they said, “I used to wear it a lot a while back, not sure why I fell out of the habit, but now I guess I think I am allowed whatever small comfort I can get.”

They were looking at the ring and then at Martin. 

Martin wanted to freeze the image right there, at the small not quite guilty smile Jon had as he looked up at him, at the feeling that things were OK, good even just for a bit.

Then something fell off Jon's desk and they both startled, flinching at the sudden loud noise. 

All the worry and tension flooded back into the room immediately.

“Right.” Jon said. “Did you need anything else?” 

Martin wasn’t sure how to even answer that.

So he just shook his head and started to leave.

Just before he was about to turn around Jon called his name, Martin turned around to face Jon that seemed to be fighting for the words he wanted to say.

“Yes, Jon?”

“Thank you.”

Martin smiled a sad smile.

“Anytime.”

-

It’t not that Martin had never heard the word asexual before, or that he didn’t know Jon was ace, he’d just never dwelled much on the actual meaning of it.

He had however never heard of ace rings before and he gave it a google for curiosity's sake. 

A black ring usually wore on the right middle finger to indicate the wearer is asexual (“ace”). 

It seemed nice to Martin, small token of your connection to a community, of course his curiosity did not end there, he had assumed previously Jon didn’t do relationships at all, and if he did, what did asexual mean then?

He found out rather quickly that asexuality was about sexual attraction, and aromantic was another thing all together, he also found out that asexuality didn’t mean a person couldn't have a libido, or like sex.

And maybe he just stood there staring at his laptop screen for a while knowing that sexual attraction had never really made sense to him, maybe it felt like something clicked.

And so knowing he definitely did not have the time or the emotional energy to deal with it he quickly closed his laptop, he had an apocalypse to stop and a boss to dispose of after all.

-

Martin was trying very hard to read Hija de la fortuna by Isabel Allende, every other sentence he sighed and grabbed his phone to look up a word the meaning of which he didn’t know.

It was frustrating, he once had been almost fluid in spanish as a child, but then his dad had left and his mother wasn’t able to and didn’t want to maintain his fluency. He hadn’t exactly had time or money for classes either and so now he attempted to regain some of it by watching movies and reading books.

It was not just the language of course that made it hard, Martin was so entirely full of worry. It was rare he got to spend a day in his flat these days, usually cooped up in the Institute hiding from something, or at the side of Jon's hospital bed talking to him, reading to him on occasion.

The anxiety, the fear, the pain, it had festered into Martin, the tiniest sounds made him jump and even when he got tiny little moments in which he wanted to, needed to, rest he still felt like a watched prey animal, or the full force of grief threatening to crush him.

Today he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, nothing remarkable had happened in a handful of days and it made him uneasy, he was waiting for Melanie to call him about a new attack, he was waiting for Peter to summon him with a weird cryptic request. 

And you would think that with all this other worry he wouldn’t be fretting about his sexuality.

But apparently there was plenty of anxiety to go around for all the areas in his life and he just couldn’t get that moment, months ago now, out of his head.

He sighed at set the book aside, grabbing his phone and opening google.

He felt like he was 14 again asking his mother what gay meant and getting only a nasty look in return, or 17 and anxiously looking for a book about being trans in the library. 

It was silly to look it up and read articles about how to know you were ace, because he already knew somewhere, but he desperately needed the confirmation.

The third or so blog post he opened was about a woman in her 50’s that had recently figured out she was ace.

Its freeing  the article read it’s freeing to be who you are and to understand yourself better, even if you aren’t sure, its OK, it will be OK.

Martin was only crying a little, he laid down his phone and stared at the wall.

He thought about how he had never quite fit, he wasn’t quite english, not with the people asking him where he had come from or asking his mother as a child where she had gotten him from. He wasn’t Bolivian either, he had never been there, his spanish was limited, he could only cook about three and a half recipes that the internet had taught him.

He had never been a woman and he would never fit what society thought of as a man. And what that exactly meant for his relationships.

He never understood other people, but he never thought he was bad enough to seek help for it.

Sexual attraction was vague and he didn’t get it, but in the few relationships he had had in the past he hadn’t minded sex, he enjoyed watching a nice movie together just as much but there was a nicety to it, especially taking care of someone else, having them unravel infront of you. And he had found it weird that he didn’t want anything back, that he felt uncomfortable sometimes.

He imagined he meant he was wrong, like with everything else Martin Blackwood also couldn’t do that right. 

But maybe there was something here, in Martins corner of human experience, in the small stack of books about Bolivia that he read, in the trans pin on his backpack and patches he sewed onto his clothes, in calling himself gay man even if that didn’t cover the nuances because it felt good, in the chew necklace that hung around his neck because it eased his anxiety.

Just like all of those things, Martin was ace, he wasn’t wrong or broken he was just different and there were all those other people who were different too and it was nice. 

And Martin was crying because of the overwhelming sense of belonging, and because he finally understood Tim when he had once asked “But what does romance even mean, Martin?” and he would never get to tell him, because this is yet another thing he and Jon could have talked about if the world had been kinder to them, this is something he could be talking about to Jon if he wasn’t in a coma.

But even in these miserable circumstances Martin made sense to himself a little more and no one could take that away from him.

-

The past week in the safehouse had been a whirlwind of emotions, but both Jon and Martin were trying, trying hard to heal, to learn how to feel safe again, to love each other.

For all that trying they hadn’t talked about it much, it was hard still, but Martin was quietly holding on to the hope that they would get there.

Today had been quiet, with the biggest setback being that Jon had found it hard to find all the ingredients for the sambar he wanted to make for dinner. 

“I know it won't be like my Pāṭṭi (பாட்டி) taught me, but you would think they would at least have coconut.”

Martin found their grumpiness adorable, reveled in the mundaneness of this worry. And he hadn’t been able to contain his laughter when they finally had found coconut and Jon had held it up triumphantly.

The food had been delicious and now they sat on the couch, it was hard Martin craved touch so dearly but it was like stepping into hot water after standing on ice for a while and Jon flinched so often, not used to not being hurt and sometimes Martin’s unnaturally cold skin brought up unpleasant memories. 

They could have wallowed in guit and yearning, but they were both stubborn, and so even if it took a while and millions of slow movements and asking if something was OK they managed. 

So it was that Jon had his legs draped over Martin's lap, enough to bring comfort, not too much as to be overwhelming, and their hands were lightly on top of eachother.

Jon seemed pensive, but not worried, Martin shot him a questioning glance.

“We went at this in such a sideward way,” Jon said, “I mean we live together now but we haven’t really...talked about it. We never- we never asked?”

There was a beat of silence where Martin just looked at Jon and then a smile spread over Martin's face.

“Jonathan Sims do you want to ask me out?”

Jon averted their gaze in a way that meant even though Martin couldn’t see it they were definitely blushing.

Martin just couldn’t contain his delighted laughter.

“Must you laugh at me,” Jon said, faking offence, he was also smiling now.

A bit of seriousness returned to his voice as he spoke up again.

“I don’t care that we have done it all backwards Martin,” they said, “But, I love you.”

And as he said that Martin stared at him, mouth agape and his heart thundering in his chest, he lost his ability in any language. Jon said it firmly and securely and Martin really didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all the feelings he had, Jon continued however. 

“And we don’t have to do anything but it just feels like we are dancing around several conver- Martin? Are you alright?”

It was only then Martin realised he was crying and he could only ask:

“You love me?” 

Not because he didn’t know, but because sometimes you just need the confirmation.

Jon squeezed his hand gently.

“Of course I do.”

Martin wanted so badly to answer him, to reproach but he couldn’t, not yet, instead he blurted.

“May I kiss you?”

Jon smiled, a tad nervously.

“That's sort of what I wanted to talk about,” they said, “boundaries?”

Martin understood the necessity of such conversations he really did, but it did not mean he was going to enjoy them.

It did come as a surprise however that Jon suddenly got very nervous and said.

“I mean- I just- I am ace, Martin.”

Martin cokced his head in confusion and said:

“Yeah, I know.”

Jon mirrored his confused look.

“You do?” and then more sour, “You listened to the tape?”

And fine Martin admitted to himself, maybe they should talk more.

“No? You told me, like ages ago.”

Jon laughed, relieved, happy.

“Sorry,” he said, “Ironically my memory is foggy. It has been a rough couple of...years.”

Martin hummed something of affirmation, because he also knew this seemed like a nice moment to come out, and he felt the very familiar anxiety in his belly. Idiotic anxiety because Jon was also ace and there were no stakes in this situation at all. 

Maybe it was just the fact that he had never said it aloud.

Martin heard himself speak:

“I think I am too,” and he could hear how stupidly nervous he sounded, “ace, I mean.”

There was a vague ringing in his ear and if he had been in the position to he might have just run out of the room, apparently facing down unknowable monsters didn’t make coming out easier.

His fear was cut down by the fact that Jon was absolutely beaming at him.

“That's great!” they said, “I mean not that I would have minded if- but it is nice to have someone understand, that's all.”

It was, it was amazing to have Jon here smiling up at him holding his hand and understanding him.

“It really is,” Martin said, then gently bringing the back of Jon’s hand to his cheek and leaning into it, “Doesn’t mean we don’t have to talk boundaries though.” 

Jon smiled at the small gesture and then said serious:

“I don’t want to have sex, ever.” 

Martin knew it sounded like people had tried to debate them on it before and it made his chest ache.

“I know,” he answered and then because honesty was key, “I am not adverse to it, but obviously if you don’t want to, we won’t, ever.”

Jon sat up a bit then, lifting his hand from Martins and gently cupping his cheek. Martin's pulse quickened, his hand moving almost automatically to Jon’s arm.

“How do you feel about kissing?” he asked.

“It's nice,” Jon said, smiling a bit cheekily leaning forward,  “So long as it isn’t tongue kissing that is.”

Martin leaned forward until their breaths mingled at their lips where all but touching.

“May I kiss you then?” He asked, breathless.

Jon could only nod and they both leaned forward the last inch.

Time must have stopped for a bit as they kissed, gentle and full of a thousand promises. 

They both moved away from the kiss gently, they were both tearing up a little, Martin felt so much so strongly and he pulled away from Jon completely.

“Just need a moment.” he said and smiled at Jon's reassuringly if a bit shaky. 

“Take all the time you need,” Jon said and then softer, “Anything you need.”

And Martin was sure he had never loved anyone more. 

-

On the fourth day of their third week in Scotland Jon had gone to run some errands in town and had come back with an incredibly nervous air about him they were sitting across from Martin at the table twirling their hair and checking his pocket every once in a while.

It was making Martin incredibly antsy and by the third time Jon had looked like he wanted to say something only to then go back to the crossword he was definitely making no progress on Martin had had enough.

“Sol mio,” Martin said, very much enjoying Jon’s wide eyed flustered he always got when Martin called him pet names. “Will you please tell me what is wrong.”

Jon looked at him sheepishly.

“There is not something wrong, per se.”

Martin gave him a look.

Jon sighed and stood up, grabbing a small box from his pocket. 

“Nothing is wrong I just… bought something for you beloved.”

Martin very nearly had a heart attack when Jon opened the box and there was a ring inside. Upon closer inspection it was a beautiful black ring and Martin understood. 

There was silence as Martin could do no more but stare at the ring and then at Jon.

“I see how a ring might come over as a gift now,” Jon rambled nervously, “it is not like that- I mean that is something we will have to talk about. I was afraid it would be too much? It is engraved too and I just hope I didn’t-”

Martin cut him off: “Jon let me see it properly.” 

Jon handed him the ring.

Martin lifted the ring out of the box and saw the engraving on it.

 நான் உன்னைக் காதலிக்கிறேன். I love you. Te amo.

Martin promptly sat down again, it was so sappy, just a tad ridiculous and stupidly cute. It hurt in his chest and tears stung in his eyes.

“How did you know I wanted one?” he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck self consciously and said:

“You were talking a few days ago, about how you would like something like a- like a token, to remind you and I thought an ace ring might be nice.” 

They lifted their right hand.

“We match now.” 

Martin silently moved to put the ring on, it fit perfectly. He ran his fingers over the tiny groves of the words on it. 

An anchor. 

A small reminder that he belonged, here in the world, here with Jon. 

Martin stood up and gently enveloped Jon in a hug.

“Thank you,” he murmured into Jons hair as he placed a small kiss on top of their crown. “It’s perfect.”

[cuttoothed]

For the kissing prompt meme: jonmartin + in the rain

Guess who listened to the S5 trailer and is already thinking of soft fix-it scenarios???

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON FIVE TRAILER BELOW. ALSO SOFTNESS.

*

All his life, Jon believed that the anticipation of something bad is worse than the thing itself. Waiting for it, fearing it, the mind can conjure all sorts of terrible, inescapable outcomes. But once the thing happens, it can be dealt with. Even if it’s the worst possible scenario, it’s happened; it’s done, and you can begin to move on.

He can’t believe he was ever so ignorant.

He’s spent years fearing this - the Unknowing, the Dark Sun, all those failed rituals that threatened to swallow the world in terror. And now that it’s finally happened? It’s worse than anything he could possibly have imagined, a sweet, agonizing symphony of fear and pain and knowing and knowing and knowing and KNOWING and what he knows most clearly of all is that this is it. There is no moving on, no new normal: things will be precisely this bad forever.

The world is changed; it will not change again.

There’s no weather anymore. No sun but the vast eye staring lidless down at them; no wind but the howling of a million savage throats; no hail or snow or miserable autumn drizzle that soaks in through the soles of your shoes and leaves you damp all day. Jon had been complaining about the rain, the day the world changed. Hadn’t wanted to go out for a walk with Martin in the morning, which was why Martin had gone himself when he got back from the village, leaving Jon to his statements. He’d give anything for some rain now, for any semblance of the normal world back.

Martin’s doing his best, and Jon loves him so fiercely it aches in his chest. He thinks that loving Martin might be the only thing that keeps him holding on, sometimes; keeps him from giving up and giving in to the horrifying rightness of it all. Martin keeps talking as if they can make it through this, as if there’s some way out at the end of it all.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, as if there’s such a thing as a day anymore.

“We need to decide what to do,” he says, as if there’s anything they can. He folds out a big road map of the UK on the kitchen table and starts plotting a route to London in red ink, along the back roads and away from major towns. The fears - their manifestations - might be more concentrated in densely populated areas, he suggests. Jon thinks of the tiny village that once stood in the valley below them, and doesn’t voice his doubts.

Neither of them have been outside since it happened, but Jon knows what’s out there (and knows and knows); he doesn’t think they’d get very far.

“We’re safer here,” Jon insists. They have enough dried and tinned supplies to last them weeks, as if Daisy was ready for the end of the world herself. Nothing’s attacked them here, not yet. And they’re together. They haven’t had enough time together, not nearly enough.

“We can’t just stay here waiting to die!” Martin snaps.

“We might as well do it here as anywhere else!” Jon snaps back, and then it turns into their first real fight since the world changed - their first real fight in years, in fact, since the days when Jon was nitpicking Martin’s Latin and Martin was lecturing him about spiders.

“I’m not letting you just - just bloody give up!” Martin is almost shouting by the end, his voice hoarse and hurt. “You didn’t let me, so you don’t get to now, okay?”

He storms out and slams the door behind him, and Jon sits there quietly for a long time, turning over the cold, heavy weight in his stomach, examining it from all angles. Outside he can hear the howling, screaming cacophony, endless and terrible and glorious and god he wishes it would rain.

He finds Martin in the bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring at his hands. Jon goes and sits beside him, their shoulders pressed together, and feels the tension thrumming through Martin’s body as if he’s ready for another fight. Martin’s hands clench on his thighs.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says. “You’re right, we can’t give up. If we can get to London, find Basira and - and the others, maybe we can...I don’t know. But you’re right, we need to try.”

He needs to try, because he owes Martin that. He owes Basira and Georgie and, god, poor Melanie who fought so hard to free herself from all this. He owes Daisy, if there’s anything of her left in this changed, unchanging world. The worst has happened, and Jon is so, so afraid of what comes next, but he can’t let that fear own him. He’s done with that.

“I love you,” Martin tells him, a simple statement of fact, and Jon knows it. Not like he knows all the rest of it, all the pain and terror of this world. He just knows.

Whatever happens, at least they’ll be together.

Jon dreams of rain. Or rather, it rains in Jon’s dreams: a torrent, a downpour. It drums against the metal lab benches, soaks the doctor’s lab coat, washes away the blood from those obscenely beating hearts. It smears across the woman’s computer screen, making it impossible to read the scrolling lines of text, running into her eyes as she types desperately. It taps on the yellow door and turns the dirt to flowing mud and carries away legions of ants, legs and antennae waving frantically in the flood.

He turns his face to the sky, and he cannot see through the sheets of water tumbling down. For a moment, he cannot see the Eye.

“Jon!” Martin is whispering urgently, his hand on Jon’s shoulder, shaking him gently. Jon sits bolt upright, his heart racing.

“What is it?”

“It’s, ahh...I - I think it’s raining?” Martin’s tone is equal parts disbelief and wonder. Jon’s breath catches and for an instant he wonders if he’s still dreaming, but no, there it is, the sound of rain hitting the roof tiles overhead.

“What the hell?” he mutters, and goes to look. It’s still dark out, but he can see the drops striking the window, running down the glass in quick little rivulets. Martin comes up beside him.

“This shouldn’t be possible, right?” he says, excited. “You said, with the way things are, it shouldn’t be - ”

Jon kisses him. Martin makes a muffled sound against his mouth, and then his arms go around Jon and he kisses back with enthusiasm. When they part, Jon keeps hold of Martin’s shoulders, clutching him, breathless and almost laughing.

“I had a dream, Martin,” he says. “About the rain.”

“You...had a dream?” Martin’s eyes go to the dark window, spattered with rain, and then back to Jon, wide. “You mean, you made this happen?”

“I - I don’t know. I might have just anticipated it? Some sort of - of sympathetic psychic connection, maybe? But...maybe?”

“Maybe,” Martin repeats. “So maybe...things can change after all.”

“I mean, yes? Perhaps?”

Jon’s trying not to get too excited about it, because he’s still not sure exactly what happened, it might be nothing at all. But he was thinking about the rain, and then Martin talked sense into him, made him realize he needed to do something, and then all this...it seems like rather a wild coincidence. He brought this world into being, after all, and he knows it so intimately; it makes a sort of sense that he would have some influence. The nightmare logic these fears are so fond of.

But if he can, then maybe...maybe there’s something to be done after all.

“So,” Martin says, grinning at him, “Is it just the rain, or can you do other kinds of weather too? Bit of sunshine wouldn’t go amiss, if you’re taking requests.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jon says, and they’re both laughing now, giddy with something that feels a lot like hope, while outside the rain keeps falling.

[celosiaa]

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

*

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

*

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

<3