#and there's like. no real difference between something that is a real idea and i want to do it and Random Idea Notes

[captain-kit-adventuress]

I haven't read any cozy fantasy, to be fair, but because these posts are mostly talking about the fundamentals of good writing while the fundamentals of cozy fantasy are taking more of a backseat, I feel comfortable throwing in my pov. I agree with all of the above, but I think we should probably add on discussion of why tension works even when stakes are low.

Given all of the GBBO mentions, let's liken writing a story to baking. So what differentiates a cake from bread from a biscuit from [insert thing here]? Mostly ratios. Cakes and breads and biscuits are all made with the same fundamental ingredients, for the most part, but the ratios of each differ greatly between them, as do some of the techniques used. A more traditional fantasy is mostly plot-driven. That's one ingredient. Of course, you still need character and setting and all the rest, but because a traditional fantasy tends to use a big window into its world, you'll need lots of plot and worldbuilding in the mix. There is The Quest or The Prophecy or The Villain's Downfall or The Hero's Redemption or whatever, and these kinds of story tropes require a lot of moving parts to get to the end. Character is still important in a plot-driven book because it will enrich whatever that plot is, but the big window you're opening will swallow up the characters if you're not careful to get the other ratios just right.

But a cozy fantasy isn't like that. The window is much smaller, and so the ratio of ingredients necessarily has to change. Tension vs stakes is a great way to think about that ingredient mix, but when you're shifting your main base, you also have to shift the ratios of the other ingredients or it's going to turn out wonky. With a smaller window generally comes a smaller (though no less important) story. We don't see as much of the world in a cozy setting, so focusing too much on worldbuilding might crowd out the other elements in the story and overpower them. What tends to fit well in a smaller window is character. But if you want to create tension instead of stakes--and it is incredibly important to know the difference between the two, as the above post illustrates well--you can't rely on plot so much. Tension is all about character.

The reason tension works in GBBO is not just because the characters care about the outcome, it's that we bond with them and care about it also. We want it to go well for them. (Or at least, go well for our favourites lol.) So with bland, uninspiring, nothing characters, even introducing tension isn't going to work well if readers have no reason to root for your characters, and wanting to see good in the world just won't cut it. In the case of the fantasy coffee shop idea, why do we care that this coffee shop survives? What makes the character care? What is the thing (or things) that makes the character get out of bed every day to run this shop? It doesn't have to be a big reason, either. It's not like it has to be to honour the memory of their dead mother whose dying wish was to own a shop like this, it needn't be dramatic. But it does have to feel like a real reason this person would be so motivated.

A different cozy genre that does this well is cozy mysteries, and those are all about characters. We always know there's going to be a murder (or at least the appearance of one). So that part of the plot is taken care of. What the author of a cozy mystery must do, then--besides solving the mystery--is tell us why that murder matters. The only question an author needs to answer before writing a cozy mystery after they've answered whodunit is why they did it. And you can only do that through the people that are still alive. The worldbuilding may contribute to it, but the murder doesn't matter except as it relates to the ones who are left in the aftermath.

Something I've noticed in recent years is that some authors are starting to approach independent stories like they do fanfic. To some extent, that's fine because good writing is good writing is good writing. One of the biggest differences between independent stories and fanfiction, however, is that fanfiction doesn't need a reason to exist. You can write that cute scene with no stakes and no tension and people will read it because it's like a deleted scene from the original, and it has all of the canon to support it. The existing canon is the primary reason fanfiction exists.

Independent stories are not like that. They must have a reason to exist outside of "this is cute and I like it." We readers don't have access to the world in your head in any other way than through the published material, and it's an author's responsibility when writing independent stories to give us that access. You have to show us why we should care, and if you're spending too much time worldbuilding and plotting and dialoguing and not enough time making us care about the people in the story, we're not going to be any wiser at the end, and tension vs stakes vs anything else isn't going to matter.

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

[anixvl]

LAB RAT! || P.J

pairing: labrat!jay x fem!reader

synopsis: A successful creation of your manic scientist of a father, Jay’s kept on-the-low in your large estate. Unbeknownst to the secret romantic relationship between you and him, you’re obliged to sneak around and risk it all to see each other.

genre: sci-fi romance, forbidden love, fluff, smut

warnings: smut, cursing, jealousy (on both sides), possiveness, open ending, idkkk

wc: 3.5k

a/n: This was soooooo post-poned and rushed bc I just had so many other ideas & frequently lost motivation. This is a finished draft! I promise I'll get to writing better ones! :(

It was the year 2002 when your father reached his peak in biotechnology. Obsessed with the creation of life and the ability to create something far advanced than a mere human, fascinated him. Within the same year, with endless hard work and dedication, he achieved the impossible. The creation of the first bionic superhuman through illegal experimentation and testing. Donated from birth, Jay was the first successful test subject. Ever since, your father has kept him close by and under the raider from the government. A year later, you were born, and so both of you were raised together under the same roof, yet resided in different subdivisions of the huge mansion. you were strictly prohibited to see or to speak to him without authorization. Not that it stopped you, anyway.

Life continued normally for you outside of your house. Jay wasn’t allowed to go out the first 10 years of his life without supervision, he was homeschooled and busy with your father’s schemes. Jay’s bionic abilities all resided in his brain: telekinesis and intellectual advancement. He had no trouble getting by. It wasn’t only until the age of 14 that he was allowed to step foot outside the house on his own.

He knew he had nowhere to run, anyway. He had to come back home or else the implanted switches, by father, in his body would immobilize him and malfunction his ability to keep his bionics under stable control. He was, as much as he hated it, a labrat.

By the time he was an adult, he was beyond filthy rich. He worked for father, using his intelligence and telekinetic abilities, he was able to make off a civil living off of it. As he grew older, father got him a license, ID, a bank card, and all federal concepts he would need as an adult. Things to make him feel like a real, normal, person. Yet, it was never enough to let him fully leave. He was bound to your family and his predestined duties. It's what he was made for.

Though, It wasn’t the only thing that persuaded him to stay.

“Y/n,” someone softly whispers in your sleep.

you stir in bed, softly groaning as you wake up. your eyes flutter open, looking around your spacious room. The moon lit up your room beautifully through the balcony doors. you sit up, facing the figure at the edge of your bed.

“Jay? What are you doing here?” you whisper.

He shakes his head, gently caressing the side of your face.

“I missed you,” he frowned, analyzing your face in admiration. A face he’s never tired of seeing.

you had been gone for a week, sent to your aunts home in Italy. With not much to communicate, all you could do was wait till you came back to see him.

“I was going to find you after I slept, I was just so tired from the plane ride back,” you explained, overlapping your hand over his. you lean into his touch.

“why didn’t you call?” He asked, crawling closer to you.

“I was going to but I was really busy with my aunt,” you replied, scooting back cautiously.

He towered over you, eyeing you like prey, “Ah, I see. Busy.”

“I should’ve called, i’m sorry,” you look up at him, gripping onto his shirt.

He leans onto his rested arm beside your head, used as support. He leans in to kiss you, slowly, almost punishingly. your eyes shutter close. your hands roam around his soft skin, feeling him.

“Who’s Jake?” he asks, devouring your neck with wet kisses.

your mind becomes fuzzy at the stimulation, it’s hard to focus.

“H-How do you know about him? He’s my aunts friend son,” you reply, shakily.

Soft moans escape your lips at his roaming hands over your burning body and his trail of kisses lowering.

He bites at your collarbone, “Were you with him the entire week?”

you softly whimper, in pain and pleasure. your eyes are shut closed.

“Just for a few days,” you confessed, “whenever his family came over to my aunts.”

He harshly captures your lips once again, slowly sliding his hand under your shirt. He takes your breast in his hand, fondling it. you moan against his lips.

“Did you like being with him?” he asks, his eyes piercing through yours. The lights flickered.

you shake your head insistently, “Of course not, why would I?”

He grinds the tent inside his pants in between your legs. The barrier of mere fabric overwhelming the throb between your legs.

“I saw the pictures of you and him on the news, it's quite the talk now,” he stated, unintentionally ripping your shirt in eagerness to take it off.

you open your mouth, about to protest.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” his mouth takes in the bud of your sensitive breasts, “fuck, i’ll buy you as many as you want.”

you moan, lacing your fingers within his hair. He leaves wet kisses down to your stomach. He looks up at you as he places his hands on the hem of my shorts. you nod, reassuringly. He takes them off, sliding his hands down your soaked panties. He spreads the wetness of your cunt onto his fingers.

“Such a good girl, you’re so wet for me,” he takes off your panties, positioning himself in between your legs.

His mouth meets your cunt, taking a wet lick. He groans in satisfaction, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, locking his face into your cunt. you cover your mouth from the involuntary sounds.

“Jay, what if someone hears us?” you shakily whisper, your legs quivering in pleasure.

He quickly glances at the door, the lock forcefully moving in place with just a look.

“There. Your dad left on a business trip, don’t worry,” he mumbles, focusing his attention back to between your legs.

Lewd, wet, slurping noises and soft moans fill the room.

“fuck, jay, im going to cum,” you whimper, your body trembling as it approaches its high.

He teases you with kisses onto your folds, causing you to squirm in eagerness.

“Jay, please,” you pleaded, he takes his pants off.

“Please, what?” he taunted, “use your words.”

“I need you,” you exhaled.

His thumb wipes off the precum from his tip, positioning his throbbing cock between your wet folds.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he affirmed, pushing into you with one swift thrust.

you shudder in pleasure, gripping onto his arms. His pace is slow and sensual, his gaze unwavering onto your expression. Your expressions and lewd sounds just makes his cock harder inside you. His mind trails back to your aunts pictures, his grip tightens.

“Why’d you smile at him like that?” his face flinches in pleasure, a subtle anger in his words and thrusts.

He leans down to devour your neck as he continues to thrusts deep. your nails dig deep into his back. your mind feels melted and your body is burning up in desire.

“Don’t smile like that to anyone but me,” he groans.

your insistent moans and the sound of skin slapping against each other fills your room.

“Jay,” you manage to say, “what’s up with y-you?”

He continues to leave sloppy kisses and love bites all over your collarbone and neck, his pace unwavering. His lips move beside your ear.

“Don’t go anywhere anymore,” he whispers in a low voice, “stay right here, with me.”

you lace your fingers through his hair and fist it, causing him to quicken his pace. you grip onto his hair, hard, incoherent words spilling from you. He let out a grunt, his hands moving to your calves to force them up over his shoulders. Ensuring his control over your body, every sound, every part of you, every breath, is his. The new position caused his cock to reach deep within you, your eyes rolling back over each one of his thrusts. Your breath was rigid and unsteady.

“Say it,” he demands, his pace mercilessly pounding into you.

“Say you’ll stay here with me. No one else,” his voice strained with groans.

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, feeling a knot begin in my stomach.

“I won’t go anywhere. I love you, Jay,” you replied, your voice shaky.

He hums in response, satisfied. He groaned as you tightened around him, taking a hold of your wrists and pinning your hands down beside your head, interlocking your hands with his.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he grunted, “keep doing that.”

He kisses you, harshly. His thrusts become demanding, you struggle to kiss him back. you clench around his cock, the feeling in your stomach becoming intense by the second. He bites down on your neck, silencing his frequent grunts, getting louder and louder the more you clench around him.

“Jay, I’m—” you whimper, approaching your high.

“yeah?” he pounds into your cunt mercilessly, “you’re going to cum on my cock?”

you nod, whiny moans in response.

“Fuck,” he exhales, his grip onto your skin tightening.

You reach your high with a final cry, your body trembling from the electrifying bolt. A warm, filling, substance spurts deep within you following your orgasm. Jay continues to thrust within you, riding out each others high. Panting, he drops next to you, exhausted. His strong hands reach to grab you by your waist, pulling you into his warm bare chest. You immediately melt into his embrace. He plays with a strand of your hair, his breathing steadying. Your eyelids feel heavy against his warmth and strong embrace.

“I missed you,” Jay whispers, softly.

You chuckle, “you already said that.”

“I’ll say it many times and it still won’t be enough,” he replied, pulling away a bit to catch your gaze.

“I love you,” you state, gently.

“you already said that,” he teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He chuckles at your pouty expression.

He leans down to kiss you, softly and lovingly.

“I love you too,” he replied, drawing small circles on your skin amidst caressing your cheek.

His big hands travel all around your body, feeling every curve and feature about you like a precious artifact. He grips onto your ass, a low chuckle released from his lips as he pulls you closer to him. He buries his face in your neck.

“No one else can have you,” he mumbles against your skin, “you’re mine.”

You let out a happy sigh, relieved to be in his arms after time apart. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

The next morning, you woke up reaching for his warmth but was met with his absence. Your eyes blink open, sitting up, alarmed. You look around your room, hoping to find him here. You’re quickly met with disappointment. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Jay?” You call out softly.

No response.

You get up from your bed, walking over to your open balcony. The doors are cracked open, a familiar voice is heard from outside. You approach it cautiously, listening to the familiar voice and his conversation. You watch Jay on the phone through the cracked doors of the balcony.

“Is that really what you want? It’s never been a thought to you before, so why now? I don’t want to do it,” he spoke, his expression stern and irritated.

A faint voice is heard on the other line, Jay pinches the temple of his nose in distress.

“I don’t even know her,” he replies, “does she even know about me? who I am? what I am?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, you step closer in curiosity. What could he be talking about? who’s “her”? And why does he look so distressed?

“Do I have any other choice? There must be another way,” he adds, sighing.

His expression seems angrily defeated, as he brings his phone from his ear into his sight. The phone call has ended. He turns around, catching you at the doors. His expression falls.

“What was that about?” you ask, examining his face.

“You’re awake. How’d you sleep, love?” he dismisses your question, walking back into the room.

He steps closer to you, cupping your face with his hands. He leans down to kiss your lips, softly.

“Jay, who was that?” you retract, searching into his eyes for a sign of truth.

He avoids your gaze, sitting at the edge of your bed. You cross your arms over your chest, worriedly.

“What is it, jay?” you step closer, “you’re scaring me.”

“It was your father,” he confessed, looking down at his hands.

“He…”

“he what?” you ask, anxious by the second.

“He wants me to marry the daughter of his business partner. He says it will be beneficial to us,” he explains, looking up to meet your heartbroken gaze.

Your breath catches in your throat, your legs threatening to betray you. You falter, Jay quickly launches forward to stabilize you.

“Y/n,” he looks at you worriedly, holding onto you.

“Jay, you can’t marry her. I wont let you,” you rambled, desperately holding onto his arm as if he were to disappear if you let go.

"I won't let this happen, I'll talk to father," you stated, determination coursing furiously through your veins.

Tears clouded your vision, reality was slowly setting in. It was bound to happen, an icebreaker in your relationship. You just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Jay shakes his head, wiping away your tears.

“I won’t marry her or anyone else,” he gently reassures, “not if they’re not you.”

You sniffle, feeling your heart warm at the thought. Marriage, you and Jay. Something you’ve dreamed of since you were just a young girl. You truly cannot imagine anyone else you’d want to spend the rest of your life with if it isn’t Jay.

He signals behind you with a soft expecting smile. You look behind your shoulder, confused. In middle air, floats a small black box. You turn around, walking towards it. You lift your hands to reach for it. You momentarily look at Jay, who's smiling at you proudly. You open the box carefully, your eyes slightly widen.

"Jay, this...?" you place a hand over your mouth in disbelief.

Inside the box displayed a beautiful diamond ring.

He walks over to you, "It's for you, love."

Jay takes the ring from the box and grabs your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger. He stares at your hand, arousing him in so many weird ways. It was a mark, a symbolism that showcased his profound love and claim over you. Your heart surges in happiness, feeling utterly shocked. You stare at the shiny ring, admiring its beautiful qualities.

"Oh Jay...When did you get this?" You ask, in complete awe.

"A while ago. I just...didn't want to seem too pathetic for buying you a ring so early into the relationship," he explained, sheepishly looking away.

That thought settled into your mind; Jay has been in love with you for so long. Pathetically, irrevocably, inevitably, in love with you. Body and Soul.

"Where's yours?" You frown.

He lifts his hand up, revealing a silver ring onto his finger.

"Right here, my dear," he reassures, a sly smirk onto his handsome face.

Your eyes immediately lighten up, finding happiness in the shared connection you and Jay now have. His heart skips a beat at your expression. It quickly disolves all his self-restraint.

He leans in to kiss you, tenderly and slowly.

Your stomach turned at the thought of someone else being able to kiss Jay.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbled against the kiss.

“Stop reading me,” you complained, remembering his frustrating genius abilities and the way he can spot-on read your thoughts and feelings just by watching you. Studying you long enough, examining.

“Can’t help it, love,” he smirked, scooping you up in his arms and taking you to your bed.

He lightly sits down first, holding you in his lap.

You immediately welcome him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You need to feel any sort of his warmth against your skin. To prove he’s still here, still yours.

He leaves hot kisses over the hickeys he left on your neck last night, his hands traveling down to your hips. He grips onto you tightly, grinding your hips back and forth onto his growing member. You shift your head, giving him opening to attack your neck with more love bites. Your breath becomes rigid as you close your eyes, taking in every touch he leaves on your burning skin.

His hand goes under your shirt, brushing the side of your waist. He kisses your collarbone, engraving the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. He looks up at you, a glint of desire in his eyes. Breathless, your hips continue to rock against him, muffled moans threatening to intensify. You tug at his sweats, urging. He lets out a low chuckle before lifting himself up slightly to slide his sweats off. You follow him, taking your shorts off. You climb off him, placing yourself inbetween his legs. His eyebrows raise in amusement, caught in surprise. You were way more insistent than usual.

He eyed you intently as you slipped his boxers off. His cock popped out, hitting his stomach.

“You’re gonna suck me off, love?” he taunted, with a low voice.

You dont reply, you simply take his cock with your hand, a string of spit falls onto his tip. He lets out a shaky exhale. You take him in your mouth, only partly. He brings his hand to lift your face up to him by your chin, he caresses you softly as you suck him off. He holds his grip onto your face, maintaining eye contact as you take his cock deeper. His face flinches in pleasure, beads of sweat forming onto his forehead.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he growled, “don’t fucking look away.”

The lamp from your nightstand starts flickering intensely, a reflection of his immense uncontrollable feelings. You suck him further, his cock hardening as it hits the walls of your throat. He mumbles phrases and curses under his breath. His hand caresses the top of your head, occasionally fisting your hair. You manage to somehow keep your eyes on Jay, afraid of the consequences you'd face if you provoke him. Your eyes sting, hot tears falling at the corner of your eyes from him fucking your throat roughly. Your supply of oxygen is cut short, you push against his thighs. He curses under his breath, pushing you further onto his member at the feeling of his orgasm approaching. With a loud gasp from you, Jay lets you go. You sit onto the floor, panting. He leans over to grab you by your waist, his strong hands quickly taking your panties off. He lifts you onto his lap once again, this time rubbing his twitching member onto your wet folds. You whimper, gripping onto his shoulders. He slowly lowers you onto his member, gripping onto your ass as he forces you to take him all in.

your mouth falls agape, lacing your fingers within his hair.

“Fuck, jay…” you moan, savoring the feeling of his cock thrushing past your walls.

You look at him intensely, obscene thoughts accumulating in your mind at the sight.

It doesn’t matter who he marries, he’ll end up face deep between your thighs at the end of the night. His cock filling you up, his marks all over your skin.

Those lewd thoughts aroused you even more, your moans becoming more frequent.

You continue riding his cock, your breath becoming rigid and hot. He throws his head back, one hand tightly onto your ass and the other onto the bed to support him.

"Shit...just like that," he groans, "keep riding my cock, baby."

Your breasts mimic your bouncing movements onto his twitching cock. You hold onto him, your face buried into his neck. You bite him, leaving marks all over his soft skin. The light bulbs explode. Jay thrusts his hips upward into you the moment he feels you clentch around him. A loud gasp escapes your mouth, feeling your orgasm approach. He kisses you roughly at the sight of your sultry expression. You squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm washes over your body. Jay grunts loudly soonly after, his warm seed filling you up. Your body trembles as you both lay onto the bed, hands interlocked. Both of your gazes rest onto the matching rings you share. A immense, peaceful, feeling lingers within both of you.

He buries his face into your hair.

"I love you, Jay."

"I love you too, Y/n."

You both knew the consequences and trials you were bound to face, but none of that mattered. As long as you had each other, nothing could change what you both shared.

Inseverable destiny.

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5

Day 3 - Mike's incriminating dilemma

I think one of the most obvious byler proofs to me that barely gets any notice or recognition that it is very convincing, is the fact that Mike seems totally unwilling to talk to Will about his problems with El. Whenever Will is spoken to about the issues they have, it's very noticeable to the audience that Mike talks about it in very general terms, making sure he doesn't end up spilling what they spoke about.

This is simply because it is incriminating.

It's also the reason why he doesn't tell Will he called him multiple times even though he easily could! It would solve a lot between the two of them if he had admitted he called him (which we got confirmation about from Dustin). However, he would rather not, and would rather sacrifice himself in a sense than have Will know how much he called, turning the focus away from himself.

So again, why wouldn't Mike just tell Will about what happened? He knows that it might help him, since he's definitely told a friend about his relationship problems before (Lucas). However, this time he's hiding something bigger -- he does not love El. He would much rather have Will stay in the dark about what he really 'needs to say' than have Will ask him more questions. He's worried that if he gives too much detail, he'll be outed as a liar, he'll be figured out by Will. There is no other reason for hiding what El wants him to say. He could tell Will, but he's simply worried about the questioning this would earn.

The fact that he's lying is one of the reasons he makes this face here:

This is when Will says 'Whatever you didn't say, you can say it to her then', referring to when Mike sees her again. He believes he's comforting Mike that she's safe and he will see her again.

At first, Mike grins at Will, simple because... he's happy that Will's comforting him. But then he starts to dig deeper into what he's just heard and what it then means. That's when he almost startles, blinks rapidly and looks nervous. The internal conflict is clear on his face, and the directors want you to take notice of it.

It's almost like he's disliking the fact he has to lie to Will here. He doesn't like that Will has no idea how deep this thing actually goes, and it's really not as simple as saying I love you when he sees El again.

All in all:

Will has no idea that he's encouraging Mike to say I love you to El.

He believes he's comforting Mike on the fact that El is safe and that Mike will see her again.

But Mike's worried about saying I love you. Meaning he's worried about seeing her again.

He does not want to say I love you.

Okay.... so this means that he does not want to say I love you. Even if it means that he can see El safe again. But this can be for many different reasons. Maybe he's not ready to make the commitment or something. But the next scene on the car is when Mike shows the real reason why he doesn't want to say it.

The next time Mike and Will talk about this, the thing that he has to say to her has been reframed to being 'The Truth.' He's realised, between the previous scene and the car scene, that he will eventually have to explain himself to El because he'll likely see her again. He thinks that if he had explained himself, maybe he would have taken him with her.

Now, 'explaining yourself' does not at all sound like a confession of love. It almost sounds like Mike trying to justify to El why he doesn't say it. AND:

He tells Will in this scene that he 'didn't know what to say' despite El spelling it out for him very clearly. This shows he knows that he can't say what she wants him to say, and he has no idea how to explain why he can't say it in a way that isn't incriminating. Again, he can't tell Will the thing he has to explain away, because it would raise too many questions.

Will says 'to say how you really feel', suggesting that Mike feels the opposite of what El wants. And the fact that Mike nods. He NODS when Will says 'what if they don't like the truth?' is just so clear to me. It AGAIN solidifies that Mike is nervous because he really doesn't want to tell El the truth. He has no idea what to say to make it better without lying.

TLDR; Mike does not want to say I love you to El. The reason? He doesn't love her.

[thebramblewood]

Enjoying a fine Harvestfest meal at Dinner of the Dead by @simayush as a prelude to actually summoning the dead.

Beginning / Previous / Next

Micah: You want me to buy toys for your kid? That feels like something you should probably do yourself.

Ekade: Give me a break! My husband’s a ghost. I’m practically a single parent.

-

Sadie: Wow. This place really commits to the bit.

Cassie: I had the most incredible dream last night! I think it bodes well for our communion with the spirits.

Naomi: Speaking of this little seance-

Cassie: We’ll have plenty of time to discuss that. But I must know — how’s the job?

Naomi: Oh, it’s been… enlightening. The boss is a real character. Grandma, how do you even know him?

Micah: Naomi has a big fat crush on the guy.

Naomi: What? I do not!

Cassie: Oh, don’t be ashamed, honey! There’s a certain gravitas to a man who wields such power. The difference between life and death rests solely in his hands.

Sadie: But isn’t he, like, old as balls? And he’s always hiding under that hood. You never know. He could be ugly as sin behind that thing!

Naomi: It doesn’t even matter because I’m not-

Olive: Is that you, Cassiopeia?

Cassie: Oh, hello, Olive!

Olive: I had no idea you were in town. How exciting!

Cassie: Yes, we must catch up soon. But, first, we have a cleansing ceremony to perform. You forgot to tell me that creaky old house is haunted!

Olive: Well, to be fair, most everything in Ravenwood is.

[jeonginslefthand]

Sing me to sleep 🛌 🎤

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader Genre: Angst (with a bit of a happy end) Summary: You have a nightmare and your boyfriend Jisung comforts you the only way he knows how.  Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack A/N: First fic of the year! Just a small drabble of an idea I had in the vault with a New Year’s element (wanted to post this on New Year’s Day but didn’t have enough time to write 😅). Also such a sucker for angst but I barely write it.   Stray kids masterlist

~~~

You wake up breathing heavily, eyes pacing around your bedroom, head spinning as tears fall clouding your eyes. You look toward a sleeping Jisung and touch his arm, hand shaking as you try to find comfort. This wakes Jisung, and he quickly notices you in distress, pulling you closer to him as he strokes your hair.

“Hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” Jisung asks in a soft voice.

“A-a nightmare… y-you were gone… left without saying anything… and nobody knew where you were a-and… people forgot about you a-and…” you say in between sobs and shaky breaths. 

Jisung seems to hold you tighter. “Baby it’s okay. It was just a bad dream. I’m still here right?”

“Y-yeah… b-but it felt so real…” 

“You’ve always had a crazy imagination. And I would never leave you without a good reason.”

You stay silent as Jisung tries to comfort you with his words. You calm down a little bit but tears still flow from your eyes and they don’t seem to stop. Jisung notices you cling to him tighter, like it’s the last time you’ll ever hold him.

“Hey! I know what’ll make you feel better.” Jisung exclaims.

“W-what?” 

Jisung releases your grip from him and walks across the room to grab his guitar. He lays back on the bed next to you, holding the guitar on his chest.

“How about I sing for you? Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep!” Jisung suggests. 

“I don’t know…” you respond. 

“Come on!! Give me a chance. I’ll play… the calmest song you’ve ever heard, okay?” 

“O-okay…” 

“Alright! This is something I was working on last week with Felix. I think you’ll like it!” 

Jisung starts strumming and singing a comforting song that would soon be added to the other unreleased songs he’s shown you. Something about the song speaks to you and you become more focused on his lyrics. You become completely entranced by the music. The softness of Jisung’s voice complementing the soft strokes of the guitar strings puts you back in your dream world. Jisung doesn’t notice that you’ve fallen asleep at first and keeps singing, hoping that his song will give you a better dream for you to wake up to. 

That wouldn’t be the last time Jisung sang your troubles away. Whenever you were stressed or on the verge of freaking out, you would ask Jisung to sing to you at night. Slowly, it became a regular occurrence to the point where you couldn’t sleep without hearing Jisung’s soft voice. 

But that was almost a year ago now.

Now, you find yourself at your friend’s New Year’s Eve party, watching the fireworks outside as the clock hits midnight. It finally hits you that this is your first New Year’s without him. But you try to focus on the bright lights of the fireworks.

BOOM!

You look around at the couples sharing New Year’s kisses. You wish Jisung were here to share that kiss one last time.

BOOM! 

Your mind races back to your big fight with Jisung. The one that would make your nightmare come true.

BOOM!

The back and forth yelling. It felt like you both were completely different people. Letting months of anger and resentment take over both of you. Realizing that the spark between you two was gone. 

BOOM!

He left. Quietly. But not without saying goodbye and kissing your cheek with an “I still love you baby.” Thinking you were fast asleep. But you heard it. You felt it. 

BOOM!

He kept that promise… he didn’t leave without saying goodbye… 

BOOM! 

You wish you never said any of those things to him. You wish you two never had that fight. You wished Jisung was here with you right now telling you everything was okay, that he’s been right next to you all along.

BOOM!

But you know this isn’t a dream. It’s real and he is gone.

You tell your friend you’re not feeling well and catch a taxi back to your apartment. You get to your room and lay in your bed, crying yourself to sleep. You thought you would be completely over Jisung, but part of you still loved him no matter how hard you denied it. 

You pull out your phone and start playing one of Jisung’s songs, hoping you’ll fall asleep to one of them. You’ve been casually keeping up with his recent solo music and wish you dared to tell him how proud you were. All the late nights writing and singing to you were worth it.

You doze off listening to Jisung’s solo album when you faintly hear a knock. You open the door and see who it could be so late at night. But you stood at the door in shock as you couldn’t believe what you saw.

“Before you ask, this isn’t a dream,” Jisung says, holding your favorite flowers and his guitar. “Couldn’t spend New Year’s without you. Let me sing you a song baby, just like old times!”

~~~

If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!! General taglist is also open! Leave a comment if you'd like to be added

[saynomorefic]

2024 fandom review

Ty for tagging me @willesredlights @phneltwrites @grounded-parasocial <3

This is going to be a mishmash of formats I've seen, so thanks everyone for giving me ideas

Fics written

I started watching and writing YR this year, so 2024 has really been huge for me in returning to fandom and fic writing. I wrote 27 works (plus tumblr ficlets) and 117k words, by far the most I've written!

First fic posted in 2024: You Kill Me (WIP) 2024-02-06

My love letter to Young Royals. Anyone who has read this, thank you and sorry, it's deeply personal and my raw initial reaction to watching the show.

Last fic posted in 2024: Ghosts of Simons Past 2024-12-23

Silly little christmas fic!

Fav fic I've written: Let's take this overboard (WIP) 2024-06-25

My Mediterranean yacht AU! Ah my beloved. Thank you to everyone for showing this story love. It's still going, I'm just putting the pieces together. How do you pick a direction when you have so many?

It's been a big year of writing :) I haven't written creatively for about 9 years, so it's safe to say Young Royals and this community have ignited a creative spark I didn't know I had in me. When I was a kid my dream was to be a writer. Getting emotional here, but it's hitting me that in a way, that dream has come true in a way! I know fanfic is not technically professional writing, but in a way it's cooler - we don't get to just message our favorite "real" authors whenever we want, nor do bigger authors get to experience being in a club of writers like this! (actually I wouldn't know, but w/3).

Thank you to every single person who has sat down and read my little stories, you guys truly don't know what you have given me and how much it means.

Fics read under the cut <3

Fics read

I can't give a number, but I have bookmarked 117 fics since 2024-02-11, and it's safe to say I've read at least 4x that.. so uh.. it's a lot :''))

This is a list of favs after going through my bookmarks, and definitely not an exhaustive list of all the fics I've read and loved from this past year. Thank you to ALL writers out there for your amazing work <3

First fic I bookmarked/ read: objects in motion by Capiche

Last fic I read: Under the Mistletoe by @vvachillessongvv (so cute!)

Some favorites I've read this year:

Stairway to Heaven by @unfortunate17

the person responsible for finding young royals, and this was one of the very first fics I read! Heartbreaking and wonderful.

Something Real as Pain by @crownedwille

I love how this story directly engages with power differences between Wilhelm and Simon, and I'm so proud of these two <3

be the place you call your home by @phneltwrites

I love them so much. No one does post-canon like you! such a unique writing voice and characterizations to match <3

Faroe Gone by @groenendaelfic

Pining Simon. Pining Wilhelm. Remote island-farm-cottage sex. What more could you want?

We Left Footprints When We Passed By by @in-amor-veritas

One of the first long fics I read, and these two will never leave me.

darling, lost in the darkling woods by Ripki on ao3

honorable mention to Align, but this noir gripped me like no other.

Fright Fest! by @enjoythesilentworld

I adore everything about this, horrorific, whumpy and visceral <33

sleep, dream, you, repeat (live, die next to me) by @espejonight28738

This little gem! The Midsommar AU. So so good, so well written.

bittersweet ecstasy (I pick my poison and it's you) by wthbaby (ao3)

An amazing ABO fic that's more werewolf /fantasy than anything!

The initiation - sorry if we got a bit rough by @silvagrey

A really interesting look at the aftermath of Wilhelm's initiation ritual, and a type of canon divergence I've never seen!

A Glimpse of Us by @simons-purplehoodie

An early love, read this in April and was swept away.

Look at us by @willesredlights

So hot, so sweet, and bonus that it was a gift for me! <33

to color with two by @wildcalendula

I love the way they communicate about sex here. So tender and loving and lovely. Just this whole series!

The Way We Were by queerofthemonth (ao3)

Damaged popstar Simon. Sad Kronprins Wilhelm. Fuck.

Cock by @stretchoutfics

Just so much to say about pining and sexuality crisis Wilhelm. It feels so realistic, and I love their communication here.

One, two, three (Not only you and me) by @skibasyndrome

So much communication, so much trust, so much honesty. And the LAPDANCING? Also, thank you so much for every kinktober contribution, promise we are all very grateful <3

Where We Left Off by @gulliblelemon

So tender, they will literally be in my heart forever. It's time to re-read!

come closer and see into the dark (WIP) by @bigalockwood

I can't decide what's better, unique magical ghosts or juicy slow burn interpersonal relationships at the YR ghost agency. Love <3

losing a friend is the hardest part by psyanky on ao3

God do a love break ups and second chances. And everything psyanky writes.

We're Going to Be Friends (Lilac Grove) by wilmonlibrarian on ao3

I'm so in love. Borrower Simon is adorable, and it blows my mind how this author created this whole world.

I am awaiting you (WIP) by @toffeelemon and thatgayprince (pls help me tag on tumblr!)

I am so in love with Princess Simon and Wille here. Uadhakjsdha

i've got power in my hands (and it's yours for the taking) by @starvalisedham

The library fight from August's POV. There are LAYERS here, and I love how much is up to interpretation reg. his perception of Wilmon.

maybe now maybe here tonight by @dreamyelectronicmusic

I love a getting back together fic, and the writing! I'm in awe.

My Home for All Time by @hergrandplan

Amazing contributions for Wille's month! Every ficlet and morsel.

words written down by @caramelpenguin

Every single one. how do I pick? Thank you for always sharing these beautiful snapshots with us <3

this is the golden age of something good and right and real (Painter AU) series by @alltoowille

I couldn't choose bc the first part was INSANE. and then I read it and realized there was 50k+ after? Think I ascended. Thank you <3

and last but not least obviously by @grapehyasynth

Changed me. Changed how I write, and then changed me again.

Final reflections

I wanted to say I loved helping celebrate Wilmonhits5k on ao3, and big thanks to everyone who participated through fic recs and commenting.

I have to mention the people that keep this fic world turning through fic recs, making gifs, fandom engagement, and more! @simonsapelsin @youngroyals-events @kruemel8 @sillyunicorn @grounded-parasocial @books-books-smolderinglooks @impossibleknots @sillylittleflower and too many more to list. You guys are truly the best <3

If we have never chit chatted, feel free to come say hi! <3 Happy new year to you all, and here's to more YR magic in 2025.

[silver-cyn]

Hualian Kiss-Mas @here4hualian Read it on A03 here.

Day 14: Kissing in secret

“Mutants. It’s imperative that we remember they’re not like us.” Hua Cheng presses Xie Lian against the wall, their forms so close together not a breath of air can pass between them. They kiss with all the heat of lovers too long separated, and with the desperation of those who know they’ll soon be parted again.    

“San Lang,” Xie Lian says between kisses and caresses. He’s drunk on Hua Cheng and doesn’t want to stop, but there’s something important he has to say. 

Xie Lian pulls back, staring into Hua Cheng’s lone remaining eye that clearly gives him away for the mutant he is. Red, red so beautifully red, glowing like a flame in the night, enchanting and utterly irresistible.

“I understand it’s difficult. They can look like us, talk like us, even act like us. But it’s a lie. They’re not like us at all. They aren’t…human.” “Gege…” Hua Cheng urges gently and Xie Lian blushes at his own distraction.  Then he cups Hua Cheng's face tenderly between both hands and kisses him tenderly on the lips.  “I’m leaving with you and the others tonight,” Xie Lian says calmly.  Hua Cheng’s eye widens, his lips part just slightly and his face is an open display of everything he’s feeling. He swallows hard before swooping in for a fierce kiss that buckles Xie Lian’s knees and leaves Xie Lian clinging to him. “Gege, are you sure? Your entire future is –” “ – nothing without you in it.” Xie Lian says breathlessly, hugging Hua Cheng close. “All mutants are dangerous creatures that must be eliminated.”

“And I...I can’t be there any longer. The government is already doing horrible things: snatching people up and holding them prisoner just because they’re born with abilities that mark them differently.  And it’s only going to get worse if we don’t stop them. San Lang, you’ve heard about the weapons they’re building, haven’t you? They call them — ” 

“Sentinels,” Hua Cheng says quietly. Xie Lian nods, his arms unconsciously tightening around Hua Cheng. They can both easily picture the powerful giants of steel, metal and ruthless intent to come, but neither imagined that time would arrive…

…this very night.

“SURRENDER MUTANTS!!”  Hua Cheng instinctively pushes Xie Lian behind him as the ceiling is cleanly ripped off. Two giant metallic robots zero in on them with red soulless eyes and palms extended. “San Lang!” Xie Lian only has time to grab Hua Cheng’s arm before his vision turns red.

“We must remain vigilant. We must not be deceived or confused by the ties that bind us once we learn their true nature. For if we allow ourselves to be deceived, we will surely befall the same fate…”

A hand slaps Xie Lian’s picture on the whiteboard and all eyes are drawn to the bold red lettering stamped across his face: “DECEASED.” 

“...as our dear comrade Xie Lian.”

Jun Wu stares out at the small council of his country’s most powerful leaders and generals. Many had opposed Xie Lian’s ideas on mutant and human relations, but all had been touched by his genuine kindness and care. A collective flinch visibly ripples through the group at the sight of his photo. 

“He’s dead? How?” Feng Xin asks, body utterly still in his seat. 

Ling Wen’s face is unusually pale, but her hands are steady as she tacks another photo onto the whiteboard and recites the information from memory. “His mutant alias is Crimson Rain. Real name: unknown. Ability: able to convert potential energy to kinetic energy with explosive results. His current status: alive and on the run.”  “Xianle was unique in that he saw mutants as no different from us. He was the only one on this council who saw them as humans, and look what they did to him.” Jun Wu makes sure to catch everyone’s gaze as he points first at Xie Lian's and then at Crimson Rain's photo. “Crimson Rain manipulated and used him to fulfil his own plans and by the time Xianle realized what was happening, it was too late. After getting what he wanted, Crimson Rain murdered him outright and fled the area.”

“Crimson Rain? Isn’t he – ” 

“ – the one who’s been attacking government holding facilities and freeing those other mutant criminals?” “He’s killed many of our people.” “Doesn’t he have his own team of mutants?” Jun Wu holds up a hand and the room quiets immediately. “Xianle’s loss will be felt for a long time. We won’t do him the disservice of wallowing in our grief. Instead, we’ll find and eliminate Crimson Rain, and every mutant like him.” “How can we? Their abilities are as varied as they are powerful. Weather manipulation, super strength, mind-readers and shapeshifters.  How can we defeat enemies like that?” Ming Yi asks, crossing his arms.

“I think it's time we officially bring in the Sentinels,” Mu Qing says. He briefly holds up a manila folder before passing it to Shi Wudu, his fellow councilmember. “I know Xie Lian was against them, but we can’t be soft-hearted about this. If they can do this to him, think what they can do to us.” Mu Qing’s quiet words bring everyone’s worst fears to mind.  He turns back to Jun Wu. 

“It’s your program. Tell us everything about it, and exactly what we need to do to implement it as soon as possible.”

And on the inside, Jun Wu smiles. 

_________________

Ming Yi slides into the car and Yin Yu closes the door behind him. The soundproof car and tinted windows immediately do their wonders by easing his stress headache. “Sir,” Yin Yu states quietly from the front. It’s not a question, but Ming Yi hears it all the same as he leans back against the seat. “Crimson Rain really does have the devil’s luck,” Ming Yi says. He runs a hand through his hair, fluidly shifting forms from the government’s top trusted security personnel to He Xuan a.k.a. Blackwater, Crimson Rain’s second in command.  “Hope he can spare some for the rest of us with what the council’s planning to do. Otherwise, we’ll all end up dead like that Xie Lian guy.” Without warning, He Xuan lunges forward, hand swinging out in a deadly, blade tipped arc. He grunts, body crashing into what feels like a brick wall, before he’s guided gently, but firmly, back onto his seat.

“Easy there,” a familiar voice says. “What the fuck?! Xie Lian?” He fumbles on the light and immediately feels his headache return. Sitting across from him is Hua Cheng and very much alive former councilmember, Xie Lian, not quite sitting after having intercepted He Xuan's attack. He opens his palm to reveal He Xuan’s crushed weapon, blade and hilt melded together like some new modern work of art. “Sorry about that Ming Yi…ah, I mean He Xuan,” Xie Lian says, smiling sheepishly. He tries to hand it back to He Xuan, who doesn’t take it, just continues to stare, speechless, at Xie Lian. Xie Lian exchanges a look with Hua Cheng, who laughs, takes the crumpled blade and flicks it at He Xuan. It flies across the space between them, glowing red with deadly energy that explodes inches in front of He Xuan’s face who just barely manages to block it in time. “Asshole,” He Xuan mutters but it does the trick. “So let me guess? You –” He nods at Xie Lian. “ – have been working with this guy.”  He jerks his head at Hua Cheng. “The top military brass send their sentinels out to test run their new weapons and waste our fearless leader. Your powers manifest, saving him and the newly freed mutants that night. Did I miss anything?” “Just one thing,” Xie Lian says, scratching his nose. “What did I – oh.”  He Xuan stops. Everything clicks into place the moment Xie Lian sits back down.

On Hua Cheng’s lap.

He Xuan swears. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You two? Now? With everything that’s going on?!” He Xuan angles his head to look past the two lovebirds. “Yin Yu, did you know about this?” Yin Yu says nothing, but the partition rolling up quietly says it all. “Unbelievable?! Do you have any idea how stupid, how dangerous…” He Xuan trails off when both men look at him: Hua Cheng, arms curled protectively around Xie Lian. Xie Lian, holding onto Hua Cheng with a white-knuckled grip, eyes always straying back to him for reassurance that he was still present. Still alive.  “Fuck.” Unconsciously, He Xuan’s fingers rub the pearl ring on his left hand.  He remembers being in love. He remembers, too, the pain of having it snatched away by a government with too much fear and too much power. 

He viciously shoves it all back down. 

It’s not his problem and it won’t be his pain to bear. “Alright. Okay. It is what it is,” He Xuan says, and takes one last deep breath. “So tell me star-crossed lovers. You got a plan? Or are we supposed to survive on your love and hope alone?” “Probably a little of all three,” Xie Lian says with a watery laugh. The partition slowly rolls back down. He Xuan catches Yin Yu’s gaze in the rearview mirror, then glances at Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, huddled close together, looking at once too strong and too weak with their obvious love for one another. He Xuan vehemently curses himself as he adds two more people (god, even Hua Cheng) to his very small list of “people to give a fuck about.” 

[tarotbyjam24]

What're your gifts and abilities ?

Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated :) thankyou for stopping by <3 🌷

disclaimer : Reading may or may not resonate . Take only what resonates leave the rest .🧚🏻

pile1. Pile 2.

pile 1 : Hi pile 1 , let's see what's there for you through this reading:) you're good at thinking out of box ,you've open mindset ,ready to accept new things , you've broad horizons , you're also good at praying so like in the sense of sprituality you can get your wishes granted by doing prayers . I'm also getting hopohopono prayer . You're also good at fighting be it verbal or physical means you just have a good body built or you could have air signs dominancy in your charts even mercury too . You also have a great gift of instropection which makes you shine among others . I also feel your throat chakra could be very active too if not you should work with that chakra . You also have the ability to come out of the saddest situations . No matter how much hurt you have been you alsways come out through it breaking all the walls and face it all with great responsibility without being embarrassed about your life's situations. I also feel you have an amazing ability of leading things innately . People may also get hypnotize by you when they see you . People may also like to do what you say without questioning it . You have ability of creating a mind map for the things in your brain like those people who will think it all in their brain first from zero to end and then put it down on paper . This is giving solving a biggg equation in your mind and then just writing a single line answer . I feel people may get happy after they see you like you've this vibe to yourself that changes the air of the room you enter in . It's your aura that does it . You're also the one who don't likes to take advice from others and just do whatever their heart truly desires . You don't run from problems . You fight them with the swords in both hands . When life throw lemon at you ,you make lemonade Outta them . That's all pile 1 I hope you enjoyed the reading . Bless you 🍪 see y'a soon🖤

pick a cards

pile 2 : Hi pile 2 ,let's see what's there for you through this reading :) you have this magical ability in yourself through which you can see through dark and be the light for others . You're also kinda magic stick that helps others to find the magic within themselves. I feel you may also have good physique without working out or you may have a strong gut with fast mukbang metabolism. You're the person who likes to be in their world . If you're alone it won't bother you at all but you're most likely to create something when you're alone like you can get mind-blowing ideas when you're in your own world. You're for real super innovative. You're also definition of live more lives dance more dances . You also got thid motherly nature to you regardless of genders .you maybe the mama bear of your friend group . You're also the one who can protect everyone . You're people's rock pile 2 .You're also super passionate. You've this constant fire to move forward in life doesn't matter if people stay with you or not . You're constantly levelling up all 4 seasons but you also take care of yourself which sometimes people forget . You're someone who doesn't get swayed away . You've very strong supportive system build for yourself whether it's you alone or people around . You can also be your strongest support system. It doesn't always need to be people around us . Sometimes they're the one who breaks it . That's all pile 2 I hope you enjoyed the reading . Bless you 🍪 . See y'a soon🖤

pick a cards

can you detect the minute difference between those 2 colours of piles ?

Thankyou so much for letting me read for you .I'm very grateful that I'm able to share my abilities with you all . It's been a great experience. Reading may or may not resonate with you since it's a general reading . Please take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so . If the reading doesn't resonate there were no messages for you through this reading ! 🤍🧚🏻I'm grateful if you read the reading . Wishing you all the great week ahead 🎀 and bless you all 🫶🏻🩷

💕 love ,jam

Dividers by @aquazero

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

I would like to bash their heads together please

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

Closer than ever!

90 for 🔼:

---

There’s a harsh silence across the kitchen table. Eddie can hear his heart beating. Or maybe he’s imagining it. Neither of them has said anything in so long. 

Buck has the kids. Both of them. Rare, for him to take Jane himself. Though, he’s fallen into a habit of spending one-on-one time with Chris. Homework help on nights when Jane doesn’t let them sleep. The movies, sometimes. But this isn’t that. This is Shannon and Eddie needing real time, no kids, to discuss something heavy. Something hard. 

What is going to happen to them, now that the world is shutting down? What is going to happen to the family they’ve worked so hard to rebuild? 

“What are you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly. He’s too nervous. He feels sick from all the tense silence between them. 

“I mean, we were always going to… The plan was always for me to move out again, eventually,” she murmurs. “So...  We were always going to split up again. Right?”

Eddie swallows. Were they? Because despite sleeping on the couch for months now, he’d thought it had been going pretty well.

“You wouldn’t move out,” Eddie says. “I would be. The LAFD recommends quarantining with other shift members, so…”

“So moving in with Buck makes sense,” Shannon nods. 

“I don’t want to leave the kids or you,” Eddie insists. 

“I know,” Shannon replies. 

“But if one of you got sick because of me-”

“I know.”

“Chris might be at higher risk, and Jane is so little, and-”

“Eddie, I know. I get it.”

Eddie shuts his mouth. 

It all feels a little too familiar, is the problem. A little too much like a position they’ve found themselves in before. Eddie leaving. Being gone for a period of time out of his control. Not being able to help Shannon with the kids. Only this time, there are two children, and there will be no help. Chris will be doing virtual school, according to the emails from Durand. There is more to help with and less help. 

But only, this time, it’s not Eddie’s fault. It’s hardly his choice. This is the opposite of what he wants. 

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie says.

“It’s not your fault,” Shannon shakes her head. 

“It’s just like-”

“It’s not.” 

“Well, it feels like it is,” Eddie says. 

Shannon’s shoulders drop. 

“Yeah. It does.”

Eddie takes a deep breath, an idea occurring to him. He’s tried so hard to prove himself to her. To prove he’s better than he was. Well, what’s the ultimate proof? He doesn’t have to put her in this position again. He can make a different choice. 

“We don’t have to do this.”

Shannon’s eyes widen. “Uh, yes. We do. I’m not risking the kid’s health.”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head. “I mean… I could take leave. I could not work through this. Your old company will allow work-from-home, right?”

“Oh, Eddie,” she says. “We can’t afford that. You know we can’t lose your income or benefits.”

“I…” He trails off. “Yeah. No, we can’t.”

“This is the best option,” Shannon mutters.

“I don’t… I don’t want to leave you guys,” Eddie insists. 

“You have to,” Shannon replies, tears in her eyes. 

“Jane is still so…”

“I know,” Shannon wipes her eyes. “I know.”

And why is it that they’re having the opposite discussion now, from the ones all those years ago? She was always begging him to stay. 

[charminglygrouped]

Hi there! Love you stories and your take on Austen (as you know). Today though, I have a question about canon for you, if you wouldn't mind:

when Austen compares portraits she's seen to her P&P characters, she notes that she hasn't spotted anyone that resembled Lizzy; but that crucially mr Darcy wouldn't have allowed a portrait of his wife to be exhibited anyway. (Forgive me that I can't recollect the exact phrasing.)

This always seemed weirdly possessive or jealous to me, which — while Elizabeth had a say in anything — seemed both unlikely and to point to a strange relationship dynamic. But perhaps I'm missing something here. Can you make sense of it?

Cheers, Athena

Dear Athena (lately sprung from head of Jupiter);

I think the context of this remark is important. As you note, it's not as though Austen has determined that Darcy wouldn't allow his wife's portrait to be exhibited, merely as a result of her own reflections: at the time when she writes this, she has already tried to find Elizabeth's portrait and failed.

The letter in question was written to her sister Cassandra on Monday, May 24, 1813:

[...] Henry & I went to the exhibition in Spring Gardens. It is not thought a good collection, but I was very well pleased—particularly (pray tell Fanny) with a small portrait of Mrs. Bingley, excessively like her. I went in hopes of seeing one of her Sister, but there was no Mrs. Darcy;—perhaps however, I may find her in the Great Exhibition which we shall go to, if we have time;—I have no chance of her in the collection of Sir Joshua Reynolds’s Paintings which is now showing in Pall Mall, & which we are also to visit.—Mrs. Bingley’s is exactly herself, size, shaped face, features & sweetness; there never was a greater likeness. She is dressed in a white gown, with green ornaments, which convinces me of what I had always supposed, that green was a favourite colour with her.* I dare say Mrs. D. will be in Yellow. […] —Monday even—We have been both to the Exhibition & Sir J. Reynolds’,—and I am disappointed, for there was nothing like Mrs. D. at either.—I can only imagine that Mr. D. prizes any Picture of her too much to like it should be exposed to the public eye.—I can imagine he wd have that sort [of ommitted] feeling—that mixture of Love, Pride & Delicacy. Setting aside this disappointment, I had great amusement among the Pictures; & the Driving about, the Carriage been open, [sic] was very pleasant.

— Jane Austen's Letters, ed. Deirdre Le Faye. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press (1997), pp. 212-3.

So she already knows that she has been unable to find Mrs. Darcy's portrait, and is trying to determine upon some reason why this should be so. She can imagine that Mr. Darcy would not like his wife's portrait to be in an exhibition of artworks, if pressed to come up with an explanation for its absence—that is, given the fact of the work's absence, that seems to be the most likely reason for it—but I think there's a distinction between saying this, and saying that she does imagine him not liking his wife's portrait to appear, apropos of nothing.

Even accepting that she does imagine this of Darcy, though, I don't think we should read this to mean that Austen is implying a difference between Bingley and Darcy in this regard. I imagine that, at the time that first paragraph was written, she wasn't thinking of the location of the painting in any literal sense—i.e., she didn't imagine the fact she had seen it at an exhibition implied the existence of a real-life Mr. Bingley, in-universe with her, who had lent the painting to the exhibition. She was just looking for any image that suited her idea of Mrs. Bingley, without reference to where it appeared. Later, however, when she has been unable to find Mrs. Darcy at either of the additional exhibitions she has gone to, she comes up with a post-hoc explanation for that fact by playfully switching to a literal lens, and bringing the physical locations and real-world provenance of the paintings into play.

Also accepting that Mr. Darcy did have such a mixture of "pride and delicacy"—I think we could only understand that feeling by placing it within its proper context. Patrick J. Noon (of the Yale Center for British Art) says that the titles of portraits are at this time "more often than not" changed when they are exhibited publicly, presumably so that artists could exhibit commissioned works while allowing the sitter to maintain anonymity (Rainbolt p. 41). So Darcy is far from the only person who would hesitate to have a painting shown in such a public way.

And these exhibitions were very public. The exhibition at which Austen found Jane Bennet's portrait was given by the Society of Painters in Oil and Water Colours (now called the Royal Watercolour Society), a prestigious society to which painters could only gain membership by being voted in by current members. The original goal of the Society (which was especially relevant around 1813, due to the war with France) was to demonstrate that watercolours could stand beside oils as a "prestigious public art" (Fenwick & Smith p. 1, emphasis mine); and that water-colours had national and nationalist importance, as they were "uniquely suited to the depiction of [England's] scenery and climate" (ibid.). This was a change from an 18th-century view of watercolours as suitable to quickly add some colour to a map or an etching or something, but not suitable to stand on their own as the medium for a painting.

(It seems completely bizarre to me that Fenwick & Smith don't mention this, but I imagine that the ideological work being done from the middle of 18th century onwards to take watercolours from private to public, from personal to national, from amateur to professional—was synonymous with the task of taking them from feminine to masculine. Serious, important, professional art is defined as art which men do. Women might paint watercolours of their friends as a refined accomplishment, but they were explicitly disallowed from being full members of the Society, and very few of them were ever 'associate' members.)

So these exhibitions have ideological, national, and political importance. An article on the Society in Ackermann's Microcosm of London is explicitly concerned with the development of English excellence in watercolours, and anxious that the improvements in English painting since the 1770s be recognised.

The Society's exhibitions are also significantly concerned with money. They were public, commercial enterprises, with fees being taken at the door, and some of the exhibited paintings available for sale. The male members of the Society would share the profits and debts thereof; the female 'associate' members shared any profits that were realised, but were not liable for debts.

The article in the Microcosm considers the history of English painting broadly, and the Society's exhibitions in particular, in this dual national and financial light: the excellence of English painting is held back by the fact that portrait-painting was, until the time of George III (1760), "almost exclusively patronised and rewarded," to the detriment of any other genre of painting:

the personal vanity of individuals, and the disposition of artists to make their works a source of profit rather than fame, [...] led them to cultivate a branch of their profession that returned their assiduities with emolument, instead of embodying upon their canvass the splendid achievements which confer immortality upon those who have performed, and almost equal honour upon those who record them in representations executed with taste, spirit, and expression. Whilst artists are content with that remuneration which portrait-painting affords, we shall in vain look for the sublime features of bold composition, or the imposing graces of chaste and decided elegance.

The founding of the Royal Academy (in 1768), then, was a good thing because it "a more extensive taste" for painting "was excited and encouraged" by the fact that artists could be paid for painting landscapes, classical scenes, &c., as well as for portraits of private individuals. The article continues to talk about money, how artists of the Society of Painters in Oil and Water Colours may have been attracted by the "possibility of deriving some profit from the exhibition of their work," and the fact that "exhibiting their works to greater advantage" would increase "the facility of sale by such arrangements as the first page of their catalogue announces."

The article also talks about how the paintings are laid out in the various rooms, and how audiences are likely to react to them based on their placement. Watercolours, and even more tasteful oil paintings, must suffer by comparison to oils that consist of "half an acre of canvass, covered with the strongest tints, enriched with the most gaudy colours, and glazed with a varnish calculated to heighten the already too powerful effect." I mention this because it shows that the exhibited paintings are being evaluated: if Elizabeth's portrait were exhibited, audiences and critics would decide whether it possessed "the imposing graces of chaste and decided elegance," and thus justified its existence and its exhibition; or whether it was "gaudy," or had been produced for no reason other than the personal vanity of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. And then the critics would write up that review and publish it in Microcosm of London or Repository of the Arts or somewhere.

We have evidence that Austen is aware of this kind of evaluation in her letter itself: she acknowledges that the collection offered up for the censure or approbation of the public at the Spring Gardens "is not thought a good collection."

I think all of this context is important because it's not like she's saying that Darcy wouldn't allow the portrait out of his house or out of his sight or anything—just that he might not want it exhibited to the public to this degree. But also I think there's a danger of taking this sentence too seriously, lol. I don't think she's literally imagining a scenario where Elizabeth wants the portrait to be exhibited and Darcy forbids it. She's just trying to come up with an explanation for her own disappointment in a personal letter to her sister.

*See here for a summary of the quest to identify this painting.

Bibliography

"Exhibition of the Society of Painters in Water Colours," in The Microcosm of London: or, London in Miniature. Rudolph Ackermann, ed. Vol. 2. London: 1808. pp. 25-36.

Simon Fenwick and Greg Smith, The business of watercolour: a guide to the archives of the Royal Watercolour Society. Ashgate, 1997.

Martha Rainbolt, "The Likeness of Austen's Jane Bennet: Huet-Villiers' 'Portrait of Mrs. Q'." English Language Notes, Dec. 1988, 35-43.

See also

"Observations on the Rise and Progress of Painting in Water Colours," in Repository of Arts, Vol. 9, no. 49, January 1813, p. 24; ibid., Vol. 9, no. 51, March 1813, p. 146.

[tiredandoptimistic]

@mackaronicheese

This is a really good summary of my thoughts on this whole thing! Jace is one point where you can really clearly see the messy intersection of two different themes that CC uses in her books. I love the TSC family tree (I literally made a bunch of fancy ones to put on my wall) but it is something I enjoy in a more lighthearted way, if that makes sense. I think it's fun to see characters across generations who resemble each other, and to feel that connection between people who can never know each other (superficial traits like Clary inheriting Henry's red hair, but also deeper things like Charlotte's leadership and Matthew's love of art). The problem is that while I enjoy it with these characters, in the real world it really bothers me when people make a big deal about family being built on genetic bonds. It doesn't make sense for every Herondale to independently develop similar personalities due to their inherent Herondale-ness, and if we take that idea seriously then it has some really gross implications about basically everything.

Now, in general TSC uses these common family traits in a pretty unserious manner, and it feels more like easter eggs for the fans. That isn't a problem for me; like I said I frankly enjoy it. I think it's fun that the Carstairs family is passionate about music and the Lightwoods always have three siblings (one of whom dies). But with Jace, we see the idea of a "Herondale personality" coming into conflict with the moral stance that your biology doesn't define you (see Clary and Valentine). If Jace can inherit all this stuff (represented by the Herondale name) from a man he never met, then would being Valentine's biological son have made him a worse person? And now I've circled around to the core of the issue: nature vs. nurture. I am not gonna solve that dilemma in a tumblr post about TSC. Frankly, it doesn't matter. My point is just that TMI and Jace in particular show some mixed messaging on the matter, because the story started off with a message about how you can grow beyond what people claim you're predestined for, and ended with the wider TSC universe's perspective that families all carry inherent traits. It doesn't matter what name I think Jace should use, because he is a Herondale. He acts like a Herondale in every way, and even if he called himself Lightwood the readers would still see all the ways he's shaped by his Herondale traits.

My firmest TSC take will always be that Jace should have gone by Lightwood in the end. I get that him being a Herondale makes sense in the grand scheme of the TSC universe (him, Will, James, Kit, and Edmund are all birds of a feather), but his personal arc is far more dependent on the family who raised him. Learning about his biological parents is of course important to him, but calling himself a Herondale doesn't actually feel like a resolution to his identity crisis. TMI is all about rejecting the hatred handed down from previous generations, which is why neither Clary nor Jace identify as Morgensterns. While Stephen was nowhere near as bad as Valentine, he also did even less to shape Jace into his adult self. Robert and Maryse on the other hand actually raised him for half his life, and Alec Isabelle and Max grew up alongside him as his siblings. He's a Lightwood in every way that matters, I don't get why Jace (in-universe) would choose to identify himself as a Herondale when there's nothing tying him to that family but blood spilled before he was born.

Anyways, I'm a Jace Lightwood truther for life, thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[bixels]

So i have a small nicpic i wanted to share with you about your interpretation of spike in the au and i want to make two things clear before i talk

1) i havent watch the series for a little while as of now so i might be misnterpreting a aspect of this chatacter that might have never been there and only apeared in fan content and personal interpretation (since that whats been keeping me on the fandom)

2) this is not a big problem about the au i matured enough to not get angry at a interpretation of a fictional charater

Now here i go

I feel spike being the same race as the rest of his familie makes him lose a part of his character that might have not been central but was still something interesting about him and is the idea of not mayhering how diferent he looked from his adoptive family (and his cominty as a whole) he was he was still seen as part of it

Again this isnt a big problem with the au as a whole its just a small nicpic that i have about the au and its not going to make me hate the au

This was just my opinion that i wanted to share and im interested to know your opinion about what i said

I understand this criticism and agree that having Simon/Spike be a different race than Thea could speak to their relationship in the original show.

My reasoning for designing them both to be African American is this. I believe Simon's adoption is enough to explore the feelings of separation and exclusion he may have with Thea and her family. The original show doesn't bring up Twilight and Spike's racial differences much because they originally didn't consider Spike to be a part of Twilight's family. As far as I know, there's no moment where someone says, "Wow! You're telling me you're related to Twilight Sparkle? But you look nothing alike!" because Spike was more so Twilights... familiar than anything.

Later episodes that explore their familial dynamic poses the conflict through Spike's adoption. There's one episode where Spike's "biological father" returns, and Spike accuses Twilight of not being his real family, which breaks her heart. There's another that delves deep into Spike's feelings of exclusion from Twilight and Shining Armor's siblinghood. Basically, in discussions of family dynamics, the show places more emphasis on Spike's identity as an adopted sibling rather than a dragon.

I really do believe a multiracial family would be good representation, but the racial dynamics would not be something I'd be interested in getting into. That's not to say I find real multiracial families problematic or uninteresting or unappealing or unimportant. I just wouldn't be interested in having to explain in-text that Simon (non-black) and Thea (black) are related over and over; it would grow tedious. It adds an extra level of writing complication and opens up racial discourse (discourse that I feel is unrelated to their relationship in the original show) that I don't want to concern myself with, especially because I have no experience in navigating such discourse.

[un-pearable]

as true as the jokes about “everyone wants to rewrite ninjago” are i feel like smthn people forget when complaining about the inconsistencies of the show is that…. it wasn’t planned? it’s not like most other animated shows lately - it didn’t start with a deeply fleshed out world or a meticulously designed pitch bible with grandiose plans for a long-term story or character arcs. the ninja don’t originally get their powers from heredity because they weren’t hereditary powers yet. the magic system doesn’t make sense bc they literally just made it up as they went! they go back and forth on stuff like whether non-elementals can learn spinjitzu bc it’s a collaborative piece of media made by people with vastly different levels of control over the story, the animation, the sets, etc. that varied over the course of the series. it’s totally understandable and exciting to see so many people reworking the early stuff with the lore and logic later seasons introduced but i personally feel that… if you’re doing that. you need to understand why the show is like that instead of writing it off as being bad and shitty. it was working with what it had. it’s only what it is now because of that awkward troubleshooting phase, not in spite of it

[deepestbluesky]

Fic Writer Q&A

i was tagged by @eghfeithrean! thank you, i am going to use this hopefully motivate myself to actually write lol

How many wips do you have currently?

ha.... .haha....... am i even a writer at this point??? okay now that is overdramatic and untrue but i don't think i've seriously worked on any wip that wasn't for an event/exchange in about a year. i'll say somewhere around 10, based on looking at my docs and seeing which ones i still have Ideas about.

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish?

see above... all of them.... idk my motivation to write fic that isn't for events of some kind is basically gone, and i haven't had great luck trying to trick myself into it. however that's depressing as hell, so han ying genders has continued to be hard to finish for years now and that's my answer

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

lately i've been yeeting messages into discord! if i have a buddy or a server that it's appropriate for, i'll yeet there (thank you and i'm sorry to minna who gets many of my inspiration yeets) , and if not, i'll yeet into my personal server that is basically just a playground for me (there are. so many one phrase stranger things ideas in a channel there lol)

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

i don't curate playlists for each fic!! i will often search for other people's playlists for a vibe or a character or a pairing, or listen to a playlist i have that has the right Feeling for what i'm going for as i write, but i've only made playlists to work on fic to a handful of times (and at least once i outsourced it to remi lmao). but honeslty usually i just listen to whatever i'm already listening to - most music won't distract me from writing.

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organized?

uhhhhhh it depends on how long the story is? i usually have a decent idea about what the story is overall if it's more than one or two scenes, so in that case i'll usually have a quick bullet point summary (or i'll make one if i'm having trouble figuring out what the whole things might be). if it's a shorter fic, i often have a place or idea i'm starting with and then i just Go

Tagging (if you haven’t done it yet and you want to!): @minnarr @rainsfalling @antique-forvalaka @aiyexayen @enter-remiges also anyone else who sees this and wants to participate, do it! you can say i tagged you or you can just do it for fun, up to you!

[magiclwritings]

"Think someone'd be pretty relaxed if they were in your shoes." Cass' lips turned in on themselves. It took damn near every part of his being to keep him from laughing in Apollo's face at that request. His brow did raise at the concern and it was really clear to him that Apollo didn't have the faintest idea what had just happened to him. His gaze landed on the swing door where both his boyfriend and Isaac were now with that child. "Apollo, I really don't think it's that serious." He brushed him off, not sure where his place was meant to be in this because if he was right in what happened between his best friend and his boyfriend upstairs and he said something? He could count his days of private visitation with him as over. "I think you just got caught up in the moment and you guys had it out. Don't be so in your head about it. We don't care." Well, that wasn't entirely true, Oliver cared. He shrugged as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Mostly because it wasn't the worst thing that had happened in Apollo and Isaac's relationship and honestly, who was Cass to start that shit show for them.

And even saying it he know Apollo wouldn't let it go and so he sighed, his head hanging back as he moved to his friend and placed his hands on his chest. "Aside from your afternoon rendezvous and the kid." He smiled, moving his hands down the right arm of Apollo and he assessed with his eyes and then any sense anything he could on his friend. But how did he tell Apollo it was just their veela boyfriend pissing all over him? "How's your day been so far?" He joked, moving from that side to the other and he moved to his backside, tracing lines down his back as he did. "Didn't have time to pick up an extra family three towns over did you? Pull one from your dad's play book?" He teased, his hands sliding up through the other's scalp and he still found nothing.

"Think that kid's a plant?" He asked low, watching over the other's shoulder to the door. He could hear Oliver and Isaac talking animatedly. If nothing else, Cass was happy the two of them got along. And they did too, very well. It would have been nice if just he and Isaac could. Though after today, they would be having a talk. He could appreciate that Isaac didn't like them being friends after all the bullshit they seemed to always be in and drag both he and Oliver in to. "I don't feel like it's their style but it was the only thing that could make sense. I mean ... did you even want a kid? Surely not." He plowed right through that line of thinking without giving him the chance. "I know we said we'd be done soon and I mean it but ..." He sighed, his forehead pressing to Apollo's shoulder blade for comfort. "This shit is real weird, Apollo. I don't like it."

Feeling the weight of the little boy nestled against his chest warmed Isaac to his very core. All the craziness going on with them and yet there was this child, just simply existing in complete and total knowledge that all of them would work to keep him alive and happy. It was something to feel that sort of trust blindly given. It spoke worlds to the way of the world when it came to them as children and them as adults. It was only looking at his sleeping face did Isaac feel that what he'd done to Apollo was wrong. Well, it was more selfish than anything else. He hugged the babe closer and turned to watch Oliver in his mad dash to find whatever it was he was looking for.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight and think how crazily different he was to Cassio. The name turned his nose up slightly but Isaac scolded himself and allowed the thought to fully process. Because Cass was Apollo's best friend and whatever the two of them had overcome in their childhood, Isaac couldn't relate to and shouldn't be too harsh over. If Oliver in all his big ways and thoughts could find a way to let them live and still be happy, he could too. "'m sorry 'bou' earlier." He spoke, not wanting to talk about hem disappearing or the fact that Isaac was starting to tell the after effects of that session more fiercely just then. "I's been a real lon' day 'n I jus' should ha'e been betta abou' everythin'." He spoke a little quieter feeling the boy move and readjust against Isaac's chest. It was hard not to look down at him and just feel this sense that it was right. He wasn't sure if that hurt more than not knowing who he truly was.

"Apollo didn' say wha' exactly we're doin' an' 'm no' sure 'm happy wit' jus' lettin' this poo' boy be subject ta all sorts of magic." He shouldn't have been so protective over this little one but he just couldn't help it. It felt right to speak up on behalf of him but still want the best for him. What the hell was going on? "'m jus' worried ..." Oliver looked at him then with full arms and Isaac drew in a deeper breath. "'m worried for all o' us."

Apollo had been in horrible situations before. Some were even life or death, but walking down those stairs and seeing Cassio was one of the hardest things he had ever done because he could see it in his best friend’s face. And then their eyes met, and it was gone in a flash. If he hadn’t known the blonde so well, he would have missed it, but Apollo knew Cassio better than anyone. He knew Cassio wouldn’t judge him; he would know Apollo would be harder on himself than he could ever be, but there was still shame sitting in his stomach over what had happened. On the other hand, Isaac seemed to have no shame at all. He waltzed down into the living room and swept Theo up in arms as if they had been upstairs cleaning the bathroom instead of raw dogging it while their friends were downstairs. 

“Yeah, of course,” He said, walking into the center of the living room. His eyes scanned the little boy, feeling an odd tug at his heartstrings over his sleeping face, pressed to Isaac’s shoulder. Apollo had never wanted to be a father and had no desire for kids because of what he had been through. There would always be the underlying fear that he would end up like his parents, that any child he had a part in raising would end up ruined because of him. If Theo somehow ended up being his, he didn’t know what he would do, but he knew the little boy deserved someone far better than him. 

The spell regarding Theo should have been his priority, but going into the boy’s mind would require concentration, which Apollo didn’t have because of what had happened. He was almost positive it was some kind of magical influence and needed to clear that up before he went through with it. Apollo wouldn’t endanger Theo that way. “You know the herbs we’ll need?” Apollo met Oliver’s gaze, and the man nodded. “You can find it in the pantry and I’ll start setting up in here.” Oliver left for the kitchen while Apollo crossed the room to the couch, rifting through his bag. He counted in his head until he heard the man call for help. Then he turned his head, meeting Isaac’s gaze. “Do you mind helping him?” 

Once, he was alone in the living room with Cassio. Apollo stopped looking through his bag and went to him. “I need you to analyze me,” he said softly, urgently. “For any kind of residual trace of magic or a spell, I don’t know. Something happened, and I don’t have time to process it, but I can’t do this spell on Theo if I’m not focused, and right now I am on fucking edge. If I fuck up that toddler because I can’t pay attention, I will never forgive myself.” He felt crazy, wild even,  as he explained all of this in a hushed tone to Cassio. “But we don’t have much time, like a couple of minutes at most, until they realize what they’re looking for isn’t in the pantry.”

[rosalette-roxburgh]

People fandomized dungeon meshi so hard. genuinely hating toshiro because he disliked laios for being dense and annoying is like…Missing the whole point