#and they still post on eo's walls and like

[bunnihearted]

ཐི ₍ᐢ. ̞.ᐢ₎ ཋྀ

[wingedblooms]

Sister-Glass Caverns

Warning: This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series, including information connected to the HOFAS teaser.

The caves in the hofas teaser made me think about something I noticed in Elain’s witch series. In acosf, the priestesses worship in a cavern that is smooth as glass.

“…And the cave we have the service in is beautiful, too. It was carved by the underground river that flows beneath the mountain, so the walls are smooth as glass. And it’s acoustically perfect—the shape and size of the space amplifies and clarifies each voice within.” (acosf)

In the sense chanted, I talked about how this might be Prythian’s version of witch glass, which as we learned from Manon and Maeve in the tog series, has various uses:

“You can see the future, past, present. You can speak between mirrors, if someone possesses the sister-glass. And then there are the rare silvers—whose forging demands something vital from the maker.” Manon’s voice dropped low. Dorian wondered if even among the Blackbeaks, these tales had only been whispered at their campfires. “Other mirrors amplify and hold blasts of raw power, to be unleashed if the mirror is aimed at something.” (Manon, eos)

-

“It’s possible—to show a different world?” Dorian asked Maeve when they were again in their tower room.

Maeve slid into a chair, her face distant. “Using mirrors, yes.”

Dorian lifted a brow. “You have seen yourself the power of witch mirrors. What it did to Aelin Galathynius and Manon Blackbeak. Who do you think taught the witches such power? Not the Fae.” A small laugh. “And how do you think I have been able to see so far, hear the voices of my eyes, all the way from Doranelle? There are mirrors to spy, to travel, to kill. Even now, Erawan wields them to his advantage with the Ironteeth.” With the witch towers. (Maeve, koa)

Witch mirrors can be used to store knowledge (like the memory Aelin and Manon entered), amplify power, travel, and spy (listen and watch). It is interesting that the cave under the mountain where the library rests is described in terms of glass. Gwyn even indicates that it amplifies their voices, so if those ancient songs Clotho found were spells, it’s possible the glass amplified their power. And that spell helped Nesta enter a trance-like state and connect with the Harp.

So Nesta drifted down and down, the harp and the voices pulsing and guiding, until she stopped before a rock. She laid a hand on it to find it was only an illusion, and she passed through it, down another long hall, beneath the mountain itself, and then she stood in a cavern, almost the twin to the one the priestesses sang in, as if they were linked in song and dreaming. (acosf)

The spell led Nesta beneath the sister mountain called the Prison, to a near-twin cavern where the Harp is located. These sister caverns—or sister-glass, if you will—are linked in song and dreaming.

We learned from Amren that there is an extensive underground cave system in Prythian, meaning that there might be other sister-glass caves.

“Oorid was once a sacred place,” Amren said. […] They say the water there flows to Under the Mountain, and the creatures who live in the bog have long used its underground waterways to travel through the Middle, even into the mountains of the surrounding courts.” (Amren, acosf)

@offtorivendell, @silverlinedeyes and I theorized that the sister mountains (the Middle, Ramiel, and Prison) could all have portals to other worlds buried beneath. What if each sister mountain has a cavern with sister-glass, and these caves are not only linked to each other, but—as Maeve suggests is possible—to other worlds as well? Did ancient beings like the Daglan or death-gods (who are similar to those who taught the witches how wield the glass) create these sister caverns? Is that what Bryce, Azriel, and Nesta came across—or are searching for—in the teaser? And if ancient creatures like kelpie still use the waterways in Oorid, which is connected to the underground waterways and cave system that spans the Middle and leads to other courts, then what other ancient nightmares are waiting for them beneath?

Annnnnd if they are exploring the cave system, and it leads to Ramiel rather than the Prison, I wonder if they’ll see Balthazar mysteriously appear again. 🤭 (C’mon, you knew that was coming!)

Annnnnnnnnnnnnd if these sister glass caverns operate like witch mirrors, would that mean someone could use it to communicate with or spy on others from other worlds? Even travel from Prythian to Midgard? Erilea? I swear, if someone (please, I’m begging for it to be Elain in the next acotar book) steps out of a sister cavern and into a Blueblood ritual, my mind will explode.

[2ctheocean]

Hot take: EO is not ready to be together, no matter how much the fandom is ready for them to be. Elliot has barely acknowledged any of what had happened to Liv in the last 10 years. He hasn't asked. The one time he did, he fixated on her dating life. Not her kid, not her cases, not her trauma or how she made captain. Her dating life.

Doing all of that would mean admitting to her face that he was wrong to ghost her for a decade and that he regrets how much he missed (more than the half-assed version we got). Which will be hard for Stabler, who has a tough time being honest about his emotions anyway (the therapy is a FANTASTIC first step). Until he gets ALL of that information and tells her that, she's not going to be convinced he won't ever leave her again.

There's so much that's a part of her now that Stabler just doesn't know about.

And the one thing the fandom keeps forgetting is that Liv was traumatized by him leaving. One could argue Lewis was the peak of that truama on top of being his own hellbeast.

They were joined at the hip for 12 years. And then he just ghosted her. And for those four days when Lewis had her, she was forced to rely only on herself.

She's kept everyone else at a distance since he left. There have been dozens of moments in the last decade where she's been reminded of him-"did you really think he was going to look over one day and realize you were the woman he couldn't live without?"- But the last part of her that believed she wouldn't always need to save herself took a fatal blow when she saved herself from Lewis. Up until that moment, a small part of her geniunely hoped Elliot'd smash through the door and save her. She was thinking about him the entire time he was there.

But Stabler stayed gone, and she stayed alone, and she had to learn to be okay with it. His silence indicated to her that she wasn't in his thoughts, that everything she thought she knew about their bond wasn't real.

And then it was affirmed by Kathy's letter.

And then thrown off all over again by Elliot saying "In a parellel universe, it will always be you and I."

So. Many. Mixed. Signals.

Now he's back, and she's unwilling to take that wall down again because it's such a big risk. Ed was the only one after Elliot who even partially got through, and she did eventually shut him out when he got too close. Elliot has not earned his way back into her heart. He might have taken his first steps, but it's going to be a long road.

Or Benson is going to get abducted or something and Stabler's going to burst in and save her like he should have done a decade ago and it's going to make her understand that she can trust him again (this feels cheap to me as a social worker, but as a writer, it will make for great television)

This is all compounded by the fact that People. Keep. Walking. Out. On. Her.

The moment she forms what feels unbreakable, they're gone. The moment she feels safe and comfortable with them, they're gone. Munch, Craegon, Nick. Chief Dodds and his son. Barba. Stone. Kat. Garland.

And then Amanda almost died. And then Benson had to give her up too. Amanda, the closest thing she's ever had to a sister. Who's kids she's godmother too. The woman her son calls "Aunt" and has known since day one. Who has similiar problems and truamas, who was there for the worst moments of her life and went through her own with Liv right there.

I suspect the only reason Liv didn't take it even harder is because of Carisi. As long as she has him, Amanda's close by and she hasn't lost her completely. Amanda and Carisi are a packaged duo now (yet another set of partners Liv has watched get the happy ending she should have gotten with Elliot but that's another post).

She's still in a freefall though. It's why she's suddenly scrambling for reassurance from Fin that he's not leaving too. He's all she has left, the only one who's stayed. Ironically, he's the longest relationship she's ever had with a man now. Her brother in every way that matters.

Notice that while Fin struggles with Amanda leaving, he doesn't take it nearly as hard, at least that we've seen. He has Phoebe, after all. His partner- the one that mattered most, the one that came back. (All of this is being said before the Fin centeric episode in a week or two)

I've digressed here. Fin grounds her enough that she can keep working. He gets her to fill Amanda's desk. But she's still reeling. She's in no place to trust anyone new right now, or love anyone new.

And anything with Elliot she started right now would be new. Uncertain. And while she may know in her heart of hearts that he'll never leave her again, you cannot blame her for being tired of being hurt. That's what was happening when she stepped back from him to lean on the fridge. She wants to lean on him, fall into him, but she's so emotionally exhausted that she just can't risk it. She's Not Ready because she won't survive loving him again and then losing him again (too).

TLDR: I will defend Liv's reluctance to trust again to my dying breath and it's justified no matter how impatient I or the rest of the fandom get.

[firstkanaphans]

I have some thoughts on your post of aye being out-of-character. Tbh, while it was airing, i thought the same. OS2 Aye didn't feel like eclipse Aye. Where's the understanding, where's the "putting akk before himself", where is the aye that gave akk enough space to come to terms with his sexuality and loved him and held him throughout that journey? I was quite dissapointed when the first ep aired because eclipse was such a dear show to me. But then, a while later, I remember reading someone's take on ourskyy2!Aye. They said that aye didn't really change. He has always been a gremline to akk since the eclipse. And he still is. And akk has always been pouty and sensitive, just hid it well. Akk and aye have always had communication issues and that was one of their biggest and most prominent differences. They still do have similar communications issues in ourskyy2. We see a difference in the eclipse and ourskyy2 because (my take) during the course of events in the eclipse, aye had some kind of understanding of akk's situation thus it was easier to be so understanding and give him the space he needed. Boyfriends is new territory for the both of them and obviously they're going take some time to adjust and understand eo through the change. But because they are akkayan, because they care about each other enough to put the other before themselves, because they love each other, they will find their way out of this; as they always have. They are still the same akk and aye. Just the grounds of their relationship has changed. That's all.

I've not been as articulate as I would like to be so a lost might've gotten missed. This is not to say your thoughts were wrong. I truly have not seen a single person who's understood these characters more. I love reading your work because it genuinely feels like something the character would actually do. I just hope to provide a different perspective and would love to hear your thoughts 😙

Oh, I totally agree that Aye has always been a gremlin and will always be a gremlin. That’s his personality. He’s annoying—god bless him for it. The issue is that we know for a fact this wasn’t just a communication break-down because Akk is very upfront about how Aye’s actions are making him feel. He explicitly admits his concerns to Aye—what you’re doing makes me feel like you don’t love me—and Aye chooses to ignore him, which is not something canon Aye would ever do. Aye has always been pushy and annoying, but he has never been cruel.

I do agree, though, that it will take them some time to figure out how to be boyfriends outside of the oppressive walls of Suppalo and that could certainly lead to arguments and misunderstandings. I just don’t think that was the case in Our Skyy. Aye knew what he was doing was hurting Akk and yet he did it anyway and I just can’t believe that canon Aye, who cried every single time Akk did, would continue such a ruse when it was causing his partner pain.

I think the reason this whole plot irks me so much is that it was such an easy fix. Instead of making Aye pretend that he forgot Akk’s birthday entirely, simply make him pretend that he had other plans and couldn’t spend the day with him. Then Akk would be sad and disappointed, but he wouldn’t be distraught.

I just…imagine the person you love most in the world and then imagine them forgetting your birthday. I personally don’t think the surprise makes up for the pain and I think that years later, what I would remember most would be the disappointment. But maybe Akk is different.

Regardless, I appreciate your input! Like I said in my last ask, people are meant to interpret media in different ways and I’m a firm believer that everyone is entitled to their own opinion as long as they aren’t being mean to others about it. Our Skyy 2 just didn’t hit right for me, but I still enjoyed seeing Akk and Aye together again. I’m certainly not complaining about what we got because there were some absolutely fantastic moments that I think about still. I just personally prefer to look at it as The Eclipse fanfiction rather than something that is a part of canon.

[a-world-in-grey]

This is gonna be pretty much stream of consciousness because I Have An Idea But Words Are Hard. Anyway.

In Spark verse, if Ramuh is aware that the prophecy was irreversibly derailed because Ifrit happened, he might be willing to intervene more directly in the world. Not by showing up in his Astral form, oh no. But, more subtle stuff could be happening. (Let it be know that Astrals have a different definition of "subtle" than humans.)

Like say. Niflheim's initial invasion, the one right after the Wall got pulled in, getting completely wrecked by some storms.

Everyone thinks that it's just hurricane season starting early but still. The emperor can't just order another invasion right away, because they just lost a huge amount of resources with literally nothing to show for it. In fact, if Besithia's research was sufficiently derailed by Ardyn and Ifrit's escape, those were human soldiers and not MTs who died in the invasion. So the support for war is also low.

Anyway, this is where your post about Lucis-Galahd fealty comes in. Because this Galahd still has access to their copies of the treaty. And they are not above bringing out diplomatic guns to get some help from the Mainland. They don't think Mors will actually send soldiers but sending some financial and medical aid would be nice.

Mors' answer is Very Much Not Diplomatic.

In fact, it's pretty much just saying "you are on your own" but with fancy wording.

The Chiefs all look at each other, look at the treaty and shrug because it that's how Mors wants to do it then ok. Hard way it is. They send another message, this time stating that they consider Mors to be breaking the terms of the treaty that assured Galahd's conditional fealty to the King. (Copies of this message might be send to various regional governors of Lucis. And to Tenebrae. And to Altissia.)

And then they put stop to all export of Galahdian goods to Lucis. Because if we are not part of the kingdom anymore then all those trade agreements are not valid anymore, you know how it is, they say to all traders who complain. This all will have to be negotiated again.

Meanwhile nobles and commoners alike are side-eyeing Mors, because they might not care about some island savages but the price of chocolate just increased 10 times. And prices of spices, and of silk, and of gemstones, and of exotic hardwoods and...

(Basically Mors gets screwed over but Eos' equivalent of brexit)

Not sure if this is the direction I'll take this fic in, but I am always entertained by Mors getting screwed over by his own poor decisions. Now, if only more of his poor decisions affected him instead of everyone else that would be fantastic.

[lenna-z]

Hello, again! The story progresses slowly like this for a while, but some action and excitement is planned in the following chapters!

I plan to post the third part in a few days.

I would love to know what you think!

Chapter 1

What Happened There?

Chap. 2: Question

"What do you mean he never left? How many times have I called him-" His eyes opened with awareness. "...Damn, no..."

Someone had prevented her from communicating at her destination.

And worse yet, someone knew where she was and where she was going.

"What the hell happened there, and what are they accusing her of?"

He threw the towel on the floor with all his might.

It wasn't fair. She was injured, her heart stopped beating, she would have died if Virgil hadn't found her...

"While she is fighting for her life here, someone is accusing her there!" and a hard punch landed on the sink counter.

They could have lost her.

And he couldn't think that they could still lose her while she was still fighting there...

"What?! They think she is guilty? For what?"

"We're going to bandage your hands and find out what they know on the news. I don't want an objection."

○○○○○○

How?

How could Kayo have been stabbed when she got in there?

He had sent her there.

The building was built a few months ago, but it was never operational as it did not have the necessary permits.

It was a small farmhouse on the outskirts of town, and before sending Kayo there, he had researched the building's owner.

What had he missed?

As he reached the end of the corridor, and he turned back and continued walking.

EOS was investigating the calling couple, but it was doubtful that anything would come of it.

This wouldn't have happened if he had noticed sooner... What if he had noticed much later..?

How?

How had he not noticed?

"John? Honey why don't you sit down for a while?"

He flinched when he heard his name, and stopped instantly, if he took one more step, he would hit the wall.

Uh.

He missed Thunderbird 5 already.

He wasn't sure if Grandma meant that as an advice or a command.

But when he turned to grandma, he knew it was definitely not an advice.

"Of course, Grandma."

Grandma's tired eyes told that she, like all of them, was not well. "Did any of you let Kyrano know?"

Kyrano?

How had he forgotten him?

"Kayo still hasn't forgiven him." The voice of fish brother was heard.

"Still, he is her father, and Kayo went to see him often."

Gordon didn't seem to have forgiven him either, but he didn't push.

"I hope Scott already let him know, or he'll hear from somewhere soon."

"Everyone in the world knows there's something out there..."

The brother in question came up to near of them with Virgil, who was better off than when he had gone. Still, Scott looked tense and angry.

For a brief moment he was almost certain he saw that vacant look in his eyes. He knew it happened when he had a great headache.

"Still, who should I let know?"

"Kyrano? And how does everyone know?"

He was really bored of the 'how?'. There's a lot of 'how?' but there was no answer.

"Media mice. Every damn news channel knows there's something there. So Kyrano knows, but it would be better if he heard from us first." He rubbed his head like it hurt. He was sure it hurt though.

In such cases, the media was a nuisance. Although, the media has always been a nuisance, most of the time he took care of it without his siblings being affected.

He should have told EOS to also look at the news circulating in the media.

How had he forgotten that?

"Honey? I'll talk to him if you want?" Grandma had asked kindly.

He really wondered how she could stay like this in situations like this.

"No, Grandma, thank you, but I have to do this."

He is Scott Tracy. The eldest brother and commander. He feels like he should always be the one to take responsibility.

"But there are things we need to talk about first."

Nothing good could come after that sentence, and everyone like him was focused on them.

"About what happened there... They know there's an IR staff there and they think it's one of us."

"She is one of us." Alan's voice was... threatening.

But- ...Of course she is. And he was sure that Scott didn't mean it the other way around. The sudden vacant look in his eyes that followed was confirming him.

"I mean- a Tracy."

This was the most logical conclusion the media could draw. Not everyone knew about Kayo, but they were still here, in a hospital.

"And they accuse her for what happened there."

Question after question filled the air.

"Who the hell are they?"

"What are they accusing her of?"

And then Scott spoke up again. "It just seems like the media have combined what they have so far, but..."

"There were bodies there. I don't know who they are, but I'm sure they're dead."

It was not difficult to assemble the rest. "This is bullshit. I sent her there... And- and she was wounded- and-"

She will be fine.

"John-"

"I sent her there, Grandma... She didn't do this."

Their sister wouldn't just kill those people, no matter who they were. And especially not on a rescue mission he's sent. And without consulting him.

And if she did, she would definitely have a valid reason, but no, she didn't do it.

Under normal circumstances, Kayo would never risk International Rescue's reputation.

He had sent her there and it should have been a normal rescue until communication was lost.

"There we could not communicate with Kayo nor with Virgil. So... we think there might be a jammer there."

Uh, perfect.

If Kayo were here, it would be much easier to prove. If she can't get out of surger...

No.

She will be fine.

She is Kayo. She will be fine.

"I have to contact Kyrano now."

"I don't think you need to do that, Mr. Tracy."

"Why?" Scott looked at the guard with questioning eyes.

"My colleagues outside said that Mr. Kyrano had just entered the hospital."

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 36

Yes, the real thing, this time.

Just realized I had it up on AO3 for a few days already and didn't post it here. Chalking that up to my annual April brainfuckery, sorry, Gentle Readers.

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [SpamManager or Tasqueton, not quite sure of the ship name]

Characters: Swatch Paletta, Spamton Addison, Eos Addison, and a very special guest character [spoilers]

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Sanity Meter, Part One

Chapter summary: Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future, or does it? Bits of the past might find something to say about that as they worm their way into the present.

Author notes: This chapter and the one following it will cover the course of a weekend. This one is [mostly] from Spamton's point of view; the next chapter will be from Swatch's POV covering the exact same stretch of time.

No trigger or content warnings, as such.

==============

“I think - I think I’m g-going to go upstate for the weekend,” Spamton commented diffidently on Thursday morning as he and Swatch finished breakfast. “I need to bring b-back some albums for Leroux for the f-festival next Saturday.”

Swatch rolled their eyes. “Oh my. Don’t tell me he’s going to set up a Maypole.”

“Okay, then - then I w-won’t tell you. You d-didn’t hear it from me.”

“Sassy brat.” They got up and rinsed their cereal bowl in the sink, then turned back to him and asked, “Is that the only reason you’re going, my dear?”

“Well, there’s that, pl-plus I want - I want to g-go over some of my course choices for next fall with m-my brothers. And t-talk to them about - about this summer.”

“Ah.”

“Wh-what’s that 'ah' supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” They held their hands up in the air in mock-surrender. “Seriously, nothing. I know you’d tell me or Moggy if something was still bothering you from the other night.” 

“Damn straight,” replied Spamton, mollified. He got off his stool and moved to stand in front of Swatch. “M-maybe I am t-turning some stuff over in my head, but I really do have to g-get those record albums. I pr-promised.” He wrapped his arms around Swatch’s waist and rested his head on their chest. “I’ll m-miss you.”

He could feel Swatch’s sigh both in his hair and through the skin of his cheek. Swatch didn’t laugh at him for expecting to miss them when he’d be gone for less than 72 hours. Nor did they try to reassure him that the two of them would be apart ONLY for 72 hours, max. 

Spamton had the feeling that Swatch knew very well what was on Spamton’s mind…. Time. 

Time speeding by, and nothing Spamton could do about it.

Tomorrow was the first of April.

Easter was in less than three weeks.

Spamton’s birthday was in a little more than a month. A milestone birthday.

Swatch’s and T.M.’s graduation day was in six or seven weeks.

Mrs. Anselmo would be back from Italy in less than 90 days.

Every unit of Time smashing away at Spamton’s mind and demanding that he look at it rather than running away.

Where am I going to be? What am I going to do? Where do I belong?

He broke the embrace and straightened up, giving Swatch a small smile. Swatch asked, “Do you want me to drive you up there tomorrow?”

Spamton thought about it for a minute before replying, “Nah, n-no need. I like t-taking the train.”

Swatch acknowledged that with a nod. “You remind me that I haven’t hung out in Grand Central Station for a long time.  Might be fun to do some sketching there, and at the library.”

“I’d love to see how - how you draw P-Patience and Fortitude.”

_______________________

Eos Addison sat in his corner office at Addison Cybernetics on Friday afternoon and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the trees starting to unfurl their spring leaves. The view outside was much more interesting than the paperwork on his desk. The calendar on the wall had several red circles on it… Good Friday in two weeks, the 29th marked with the note "Go to Rivendell", and his birthday on the 19th sandwiched in between.

His 42nd birthday.

He could already predict that either Sienna or Ballew would make some kind of joke about Eos now having the answers to life, the universe, and everything.

If it only were that easy. His siblings had better answers than he did. 

Eos had thought he had all the answers once upon a time. At seventeen he had acceptances to both Juilliard and MIT. The world was full of choices then.

No time to daydream about what was gone. Time to think of the present.  He scooped up the disregarded paperwork and shoved it back in his “in” bin to be dealt with on Monday. He picked up his briefcase, closed his office door behind him, and told his personal assistant to have a good weekend.

He left White Plains in plenty of time to meet his youngest brother’s train in Harrison.

_______________________

Spamton had timed his trip so that he could make the transfer at West 168th from the 1 train to the A train around 3 o’clock, hoping to get to the shuttle to Grand Central before the Friday rush hour. He found a fairly empty car and sat next to a door, his rolling suitcase wedged between his feet so that he wouldn’t block anyone needing to walk past him between this stop and his 42nd Street destination.

The subway car didn’t stay empty for long.  At the very next stop, 145th Street, a group of eight middle schoolers in uniform-style polo shirts and khaki pants got on, followed by two adults. The fact that the added decibel level didn’t break his eardrums immediately clued Spamton in on the fact that the stocky adult with the long rusty-black locs and the thin adult with a mess of silver-blond hair falling over one eye were probably the kids’ teachers. 

He saw the word “Academy” imprinted in the wrinkled folds of the cloth backpacks that most of the students carried. He smothered a grin, remembering his own private school days. He would have been watching his step, too, if he had to travel home on the same bus or train as his instructors.  All the teachers seemed to need to have eyes in the backs of their heads back then.

The kids weren’t completely quiet; they talked and laughed amongst themselves, three of them standing, the rest of them sprawled on the seats. The two teachers stood holding the central pole between the car doors, both juggling messenger bags.  They seemed to be having a telepathic conversation; at different points while the subway train careened and rocked on the express tracks, the stocky one would give a head tilt and a wide grin towards one or the other of the kids, and the thin one would silently answer back with a slight, sweet grin.

Something about the blond seemed familiar, itching at the back of Spamton’s mind.

A shy, sweet smile. 

Pale hair forever falling in front of and hiding eyes the color of a frozen lake.

A never-ending procession of hand-knitted, ridiculously baggy blue sweaters.

Spamton abruptly directed his gaze to the subway car floor, finding infinite fascination with his own red sneakers.

If that’s who I think it is, the minute I open my mouth he’s going to think I’m making fun of his stutter.

Damn my broken brain.  Damn Mike.

This person, while not tall, was taller than Spamton, standing with a casual confidence while gripping the subway pole for balance as the train roared on. 

This person wore a very expensive dark blue cashmere sweater that fit like a second skin over a crisp white dress shirt.

This person did NOT look like thirty seconds in a high wind would completely annihilate him. He looked successful, and happy with his life, and as though his biggest worry was what movie to watch on the weekend.

Waves of insecurity washed over Spamton, accompanied once more by the gut-punching realization that practically everyone he had known before taking Mike’s deal had made something worthwhile out of their lives, while he was still floundering to figure himself out. He’d been having this feeling for weeks.

His bitter musing was interrupted by the train’s arrival at 125th Street. The students all stampeded to the exit, yelling, “Bye, Miss Stallworth, bye, Mister Sickle!” over their shoulders.  The stocky teacher disembarked as well; Spamton heard her voice saying, “have a good weekend, Jacob” before the subway car’s doors closed and the train resumed its journey toward 59th Street.

That left only two other people in the car besides Spamton and Jack.

Because it was Jack. 

“Sickle” might have been a common enough last name, but hearing the man called “Jacob” clinched it.  Jack Sickle, presumed to have fled to parts far from here last year, only a few years after Spamton had left NDU. Jack Sickle was right here, right now, within touching distance..

Do I play dumb? Do I say something?

Think fast!

Jack gracefully launched himself off the pole to sit on the seat opposite him, a single fluid motion that had Spamton even more eaten up with envy. The blond smiled at him and said, “If I were my cousin, I’d say something like, ‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer.’ But I’m not my cousin. Hello, Stanton.”

“Who’s Stanton?” Spamton couldn’t resist quipping back.

Not that dumb!

Jack’s speech still seemed halting, but with pauses between his words rather than the vocal hitches he used to have. He looked startled at Spamton’s words, and asked in confusion. “Sorry, I thought you were someone I went to school with.” 

He moved as though to change his seat, and Spamton held out a hand to stop him. 

“Hello, Jack. Yes, it’s me.” 

He cringed to hear himself putting on a slight accent, but if that prevented the stutter… Better to have Jack think he was a pretentious twit instead of a pitiful wreck.

Jack seemed to relax then. He took the hand extended to him and shook it. Spamton steeled himself for direct eye contact, but found absolutely no sign of disgust there.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jack said musingly. “You look… good. Really.”

“Oh?  Thanks, you do, as well.  Like you’ve -you’ve moved up in the world.”  Dammit.

“No, really, I mean it,” the other rushed in to say, gesturing vaguely at Spamton’s hair. “The last time I saw you, you were on a billboard, hair dyed to the gills and a totally fake smile. I like this better.”

And then Jack gave him an exaggeratedly flirtatious wink, and Spamton had to laugh. “Are you hitting on me? The J-jack Sickle I knew at NDU would never hit on me in a million years.”  

He suddenly felt a lot more at ease and added, dropping the accent and damning the torpedoes, “B-besides, I’m t-taken.”

“Good to hear. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Are you actually the - the Anti-Jack and p-putting me on?”

“Wow, I haven’t heard Frost called the Anti-Jack in years. Not since…” he trailed off.

Spamton could fill in the blanks. Not since Piki.

After a minute, Jack shrugged, his smile a bit more brittle now.

“No, it’s still me. A bit of speech therapy, a bit of head shrinking, and the chance to go to grad school after I got… derailed. I’m an associate teacher now, working my way into hopefully something permanent.”

“Hmmm. I might know a - a thing or two about g-getting derailed.”

The conversation died. The awkwardness between them seemed punctuated by all the skipped stops flashing past the subway car windows, tunnel walls giving way to station platforms and back again, light chasing shadow.

The blare of the intercom announced their arrival at 59th Street and the subway car filled up again.  Spamton got ready to head out at the next stop, multiple thoughts trying to emerge at once. Would he regret this encounter?  Would he have regretted missing this encounter?

Jack noticed this and rapidly dug into his messenger bag. He handed Spamton a business card and said softly, “I live in Brooklyn now.  If you’re ever in the neighborhood, I’d really like to catch up more. We can trade war stories.”

It crossed Spamton's mind that he was being given a second chance at a friendship he hadn't even known was there to be had. He tucked the card away and said sincerely, “I’d like that t-too.”

As he made his way to the shuttle that would get him to Grand Central and the Metro North, he squashed the thought that it might turn into yet another friendship to lose.

___________________

Eos stood on the Harrison station platform, shading his eyes against the glare of the late afternoon sun.  The train pulled in a few minutes late, and the usual Friday stream of commuting businesspeople and students coming home for the weekend poured through the doors and past him, heading for waiting cars.  His younger brother emerged from the mass of humanity and waved.

My God, his hair!

Spamton now sported a mane, almost a mullet, that was paler in color than anyone else’s in the family.  What had once been the lightest of light browns in babyhood now shone under the fluorescent  lamps as gray, gray, gray. 

The sight was almost enough to make Eos want to throw up.  He guiltily remembered the joke he’d made back in November about Spamton’s growing-out hair making him look like a skunk with a pompadour.  He never thought he’d be missing his brother’s black dye job, but seeing the gray gave him yet another emotional punch in the gut.

Another memory swam before his eyes… the family gathering that had ended in a one-sided screaming match on Spamton’s end. Eos had kept his mouth shut, his heart shattering, when Spamton had slammed out of the house to go back to the charlatan behind the GASTER project.  His brain supplied the answers now that he wished he’d given back then.

I got this job on my own. I’m damn good at what I do.

[I know you are. God forgive me for ever making you think you aren’t.]

All of you have done nothing but push, push, push me to succeed. Well, I’m succeeding now, without any of you.  Mike doesn’t give a damn that I’m an Addison.  

[Success like that comes with a price, I don’t want you to ever know what that costs.]

Eos can be happy being Ballew’s puppet.  I’m never going to be a puppet.

[I never wanted to be a puppet either, and neither did Ballew. We’re all somebody’s puppet in this world.]

And now Spamton looked older than Eos. 

Old before his time.

So much water under the bridge.  So much blame to go around. 

All this crossed his mind in nanoseconds as Spamton came trotting up to him, wheeling a green-and-black suitcase, a tired but happy smile on his face as he approached.

And the first words out of Spamton’s mouth were ��G-got any soup for a starving man?  I c-could guzzle a - a gallon.”

“For you, always,” Eos replied, taking the handle of the suitcase out of his brother’s hand and smiling in turn. “Next stop, the Port Chester Coach, Manhattan clam chowder coming up.”

The acquisition of soup was a problem even HE could solve.  

It didn’t escape Eos’ notice that once they both walked into the diner, Spamton picked the farthest-back booth and quickly slid into the side that faced the entrance. Even now, even in what should have been a safe place, his little brother was afraid to leave his back unguarded.

He sighed inwardly and picked up his menu, even though he already knew he was going to order the same thing he always did… an open-face turkey sandwich with stuffing and gravy.  Making a show of perusing the entrees and giving his hands something to do, he said, “Sorry we have to do this while Ballew’s out of town,”   

Spamton gave him a look that was almost a perfect imitation of one of Ballew’s trademarked “I Am Annoyed But I’m Going To Pretend I Didn’t Hear That” looks and replied, apparently in deadly earnest, “I’m not. I p-picked THIS weekend on purpose because I - I knew Ballew was going to be out of t-town. I wanted to t-talk to YOU.”

“Oh?”

“Yup.” His younger brother drew out the word and popped the last letter.

“Ah.  What about?”

“Uh-uh. After dinner, b-back at the house. I have - I have school st-stuff to go over, and I need to p-pick YOUR brain about it, not Big Blue’s.”

Eos smiled at the old nickname.  “Haven’t heard THAT in a while.  Are you going to start calling me ‘Pinkie Pie’ now?”

“N-not unless you want - want me to.”

“Okay. But now you’ve gotten me very curious about what you’re planning for the weekend.”

“G-good.”

The waitress came by just then, and they placed their orders. Spamton grinned when Eos ordered a pitcher of the diner’s renowned vanilla Coke. “You remembered!”

“Yup,” Eos aimed his brother’s drawn-out and popped monosyllables right back at him. He felt an unaccustomed wave of happiness.

________________

After they got home, Eos found that his nervousness had returned, along with his imposter syndrome. 

A pile of paperwork sat in front of Spamton on the table in the dining room, where the two of them had gravitated by unspoken agreement.   

This is supposed to be Ballew’s department , Eos thought to himself with a sense of rising panic. I’m no good at helping anyone making life decisions.  He’s the one that does all the work keeping this family together, while I just try to—

A rustling sound broke into his consciousness.

Spamton picked up one of the typed sheets and pushed it towards Eos. “I’ve g-got to admit I was… scared to talk to you about this stuff.”

That snapped his focus off himself.  “Scared about what?”

“About - about whether you’re going to b-bite my head off for taking a course like this, since I’ll bet you would have k-k-k-killed someone for it back in the day.  About asking why you g-gave up a career in music.”

Eos could feel himself gaping like a fish. To regain his equilibrium, he looked at the paper in question.

JRN 412  Scoring for Moving Pictures

Semester:

Fall of every year, Spring of every year, Summer of every year

Credits:

Total Credits: 3   Lecture/Recitation/Discussion Hours: 2   Lab Hours: 2

Description:

Approaches during the process of scoring for moving pictures in support of emotion, narrative, ethics and culture.

At the bottom of the page were a few lines in loopy cursive.

I turn 25 in a month. That means I don't need you anymore. But I want to do more with you, hang out with you, be your brother, not just your LITTLE brother.

He looked back up after scanning the lines on the page several times. 

Spamton’s eyes were suspiciously bright. He mumbled, “I’m n-not a m-m-mind reader, but can I take a wild g-guess and say that our - our parents st-stopped you?”

“What? No!” Eos was startled into practically shouting, which made Spamton flinch, which made Eos feel awful. He put the paper down and laid his hands flat on the table, locking eyes with the younger man. He said more quietly, “No. Is that what you thought all this time?”

“W-well, yeah.  Isn’t - isn’t that what p-p-parents do, tell their k-kids to st-stop dreaming about blue skies and fluffy clouds and endless sunshine, and start - start living in the - the real world?”

It felt like endless moments before Eos felt capable of speech.  He took a long, hard look at Gainsboro Stanton Addison, making the concerted effort to really see him.  Not as a baby brother. Not as someone who always needed to be saved from something.  Seeing him as a person who’d brought a quandary to his attention and asking for input.

Through this new lens, he saw a thin young man with prematurely gray hair and deep lines bracketing his lips.  Those lines might have been etched by pain, but they also looked like laugh lines to Eos. He saw a pair of dark eyes that shone with fervor, with crinkles in the corners that would probably become crows-feet in a few years, under a pair of expressive eyebrows now cocked in his direction.  

He saw someone who was completely and undeniably alive. Not a ghost.  Not a memory.

Finally Eos answered Spamton with a question of his own. “What’s going on with you really? Not just the small talk we made at the diner… ‘how are you’ ‘oh, fine’, ’how’s Swatch?’ ‘oh, they’re fine’, ‘how’s your friend, the blonde with the blue tips’ ‘oh, she’s fine too’. I get the feeling if I ask again how YOU are, you’ll tell me something different than what you did a few hours ago.”

Now he felt more in his element. He watched several expressions flit across Spamton’s face - surprise tinged with a tiny bit of fear, followed by a more thoughtful look that morphed into the lip-chewing that Eos hadn’t seen since his brother was very young. 

At last Spamton replied. “Wow. Okay. Real t-talk.”

“Damn straight.”

“Okay.” A deep breath, and then the words came pouring out, only occasionally stuttered. “For the last m-month I’ve been asking myself why I went back to school, and who - who I’m supposed to be. I had it in my head that I was there at Inwood as a kind of - kind of Purgatory. Work hard, g-get good grades, keep my head down. To m-make up for all the stupid mistakes I made at NDU. I told myself I wasn’t there to make fr-friends.”

Eos nodded along in acknowledgement and commented, “And look at you now.”

“Yeah. And l-look at me now. I’ve g-g-got a radio show again. I hang out with b-basketball players and fencers, I’ve fallen in love with not one, but two people…” “Huh? Wait a minute, back up. TWO people? As in, you’re living with Swatch AND dating someone else?” Eos bit his tongue before he could blurt out, and Swatch is okay with this?

“Well, yeah, it kind of j-j-j-just happened. It’s really early days, and I d-don’t know if it’s going to last. Same way I don’t know if Swatch and I are g-g-g-oing to last beyond the next few months.” Spamton sputtered to a stop, while Eos digested this.

He chose his words carefully while replying, “Are you thinking that getting romantically involved was a mistake, or that it’s something that I’d disapprove of, or Ballew or Sienna? That we were all demanding that you do nothing except classwork at Inwood?” Eos didn’t notice that he had tears in his eyes until he felt one roll down his face and drip off his chin. Ignoring the urge to wipe it away, he kept going. “Spamton.  Listen to me. Not even two years ago we all thought you were DEAD. How could you even think that we wouldn’t be happy now to see you actually LIVING?”

His younger brother looked back at him, seemingly at a loss for an answer.

When the silence got too uncomfortable, Eos leaned an elbow on the table to prop up his suddenly aching head. He rolled his shoulders to try to dispel the muscular tension that he was only just noticing, took a deep breath, and said, “I think we’ve drifted a bit from the original discussion. From what I see, the point here isn’t what courses you should be taking. I want to hear more about these two people you’re in love with. Swatch is one of them, right?”

Spamton nodded.

“And let me guess. T.M.’s the other one.”

That got a goofy grin in reaction.

“Good. I want to get to know them both better.”

“Thank you for that. Actually, thank you for a c-couple of things.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, color me curious.  What things?”

Eos watched Spamton’s hands in quiet amusement as Spamton actually physically ticked things off on his fingers. “You’ve g-got no problems with people’s pronouns. You m-m-m-made the least amount of fuss out of everybody about c-calling me ‘Spamton’ instead of Stanton or Gainsboro, the way I asked when I g-got out of Brunswick. You don’t seem fazed that I’m dating two people. You d-didn’t raise  - raise holy hell when you f-f-f-found out that Ballew knew where I was before any of the rest of you did, AND he kept it a secret for a year.”  Another big, deep breath. “You d-don’t - don’t try to f-finish my sentences for me when I can’t g-get the words out.”

When it seemed that Spamton had run out of points to make, Eos nodded and asked, “Do you know why that is? That last bit.”

“No?”

“I was always getting interrupted when I was a kid, because I didn’t talk fast enough. I didn’t have a stutter like you, but it was so bad having people speak over me and FOR me that I basically just stopped talking unless I had to. And that hasn’t really stopped, forty years later. I’ve just gotten better at making it look like I’m a great listener.”

Spamton looked gobsmacked at that. 

Eos decided to take the bull by the horns.  If his youngest brother really meant what he’d written on the page sitting on the table between them, then, well, honesty deserved honesty in turn.

“Going back over the other stuff…” he said, using his own fingers to tally points, “one, if there’s anything that my day job has taught me, it’s that names and pronouns are important to people, and respect for those things make people happy, and happy people are a lot more fun to work with. Two, as far as Ballew keeping it a secret that he’d found you, and WHERE he’d found you, and the shape you were in, well… I didn’t feel that I deserved to know, because I was the one who let you down the most and made you stick up harder for that Mike bastard.”

“Whoa,” Spamton breathed. “I d-didn’t think you KNEW how to c-curse.”

“Oh, trust me, I do.  Even if it’s usually in my head and doesn’t come out of my mouth. I cursed a lot more out loud before Mom and Dad died.”  

“Huh.”

Eos held up one last finger. “And three, as for you loving multiple people at the same time, all I have to say is ‘good’. Just because I gave up on love doesn’t mean anyone else should.”

He pushed his chair out and stood up. “I think we should come back to your course planning tomorrow. Right now I want to pig out on that vanilla bean ice cream that Gerard left in the freezer last night. What Ballew doesn’t know about, he won’t miss.”

“When d-did you turn evil?” Spamton asked as he followed Eos to the kitchen.

[mcalhenwrites]

While many of my pieces on AO3 are still locked up in a collection, I do have many that are public. :D Final Fantasy XV songs that died centuries ago ignoct reincarnation AU Summary: Noctis and Ignis recognized each other when they met as children. No matter how many lifetimes they pass through, they always find one another. Length: oneshot, 1345 words Noctis isn’t sure why, but he remembers pieces of lifetimes like the quick flip through a photograph album. The emotions—fear, grief, love, hatred—overwhelm him. He’s too young to know where these thoughts come from, why they’re there. Spell of the Stars ignoct Summary: When the thirteen stars of the Chosen King Constellation shine down upon Eos at their brightest, it gives two ghosts the power to be almost human again. Length: oneshot, 868 words They still spend their days and nights together in the Citadel, banging messages through the walls and curling up on the dusty covers of old beds. But they only had a short time in this season to touch one another. The annual ball had become a romantic game between the two. Would they find one another and dance for the rest of the evening, or be doomed to spend their night being passed from stranger to stranger? Wandering Souls ignoct dad AU Summary: Noctis is a single dad and widower who found his family's business too stressful and demanding, and now he lives on the road with his son. Similarly, Ignis is a motorcyclist who became tired of the daily grind of life in Insomnia and quit his job to travel. Being on the road means seeing a lot of different faces, but when they catch eyes at a diner in Hammerhead, both Ignis and Noctis realize that sometimes it’s nice to wake up to the same face every day. Length: 14 chapters (complete), 46,720 words

“Daddy, did you make a new friend?”

“Yeah, his name is Ignis.”

“Cool. You need friends.”

Leave it to a five-year-old to point out all his flaws and shortcomings.

Original Works Stargazers' Hill Summary: Thaddeus Whittaker began his new life in a coffin. After running away from an orphanage, Thaddeus stowed away in a coffin destined for the Glasser Mortuary. He is taken in by the family and becomes fast friends with their youngest son, Ambrose. What Thaddeus doesn't know is someone is looking for him, and the disappearance of his stepfather was no accident at sea. Length: 17/63 chapters (still posting, though the work is complete) For the first time in their lives, the people at the Glasser Mortuary did the opposite of their jobs: they pulled a body out of a casket. This one happened to be breathing, which was fortunate for all of them. Humphrey Glasser did not need his hard-earned reputation to be shaken by a police investigation. Rascal Note: this stands alone from Stargazers' Hill and can be read separately Summary: With a stressful job as the breadwinner of the household, Hazel unwinds at home by surrendering control to his trustworthy partner, Ferdinand. The youngest "Raston Rascal" is under pressure to follow in his father's footsteps. It includes everything from his job to his hobbies to his lifestyle choices. But when there's a new airship being built, one that the Rastons have invested in, Hazel finds a growing interest in the vessel for all the wrong reasons. Length: 60/60 chapters, 159930 words Hazel is in the perfect position of his erotic fantasies: a handsome man has him across his lap, one leg burrowed into the angle of Hazel’s bent form, toes lifted off the ground. Ferdinand’s sleeves are indeed rolled nearly to his elbows, and the slipper is going to leave a lasting impression that has Hazel relishing in the pain all night and into tomorrow. Ungrateful Little Princeling Note: best read after reading at least the first 4 chapters of Rascal Summary: The first time Hazel is ever called an Ungrateful Little Princeling. The insult follows him into adulthood, as do the unpleasant memories. Length: oneshot, 2455 words

Beside Hazel’s arm sits the remaining pieces of the model, retrieved from the yard. The car has been snapped off the platform, and the exterior is scraped and smashed. The window glass is shattered.

Reselling will be impossible. The model is now trash.

Ravish Him Note: can be read before Rascal Summary: Hazel Raston might have been a little drunk when he first spotted Ferdinand Aletto standing by the nearest exit of the dormitory common room. So drunk, in fact, that he snagged Sinclair’s sleeve and hissed much too loudly in his ear, “Who is he? I want to ravish him.” Specifically, Hazel wanted to rip the stranger’s buttons off his shirt with his teeth and lick his chest down to his navel until he had his cock in his mouth. Length: oneshot, 7974 words Ferdinand dressed in his finest, snappiest outfit. He also dressed two hours too soon, because his thoughts were on little else but the young man with the butterscotch hair and chrysanthemum orange eyes. Woeful Spring Colds Note: can be read before Rascal, but best if you know the dynamic between Hazel and Ferdinand Summary: Ferdinand can always count on Hazel to take care of him when he has a cold. In turn, Hazel can count on Ferdinand to paint his ass red whenever they're no longer sick. Length: oneshot, 2838 words As soon as he straightens up, he takes a few deep breaths with his eyes shut tight. There is no mistaking it: he has caught something. It is inevitable in a customer service job, and arranging flowers for people who buy them for loved ones at hospitals means all sorts of colds and flus are passed around the flower shop. Even someone as robust as Ferdinand ends up catching something once a year. Eda, Darling Note: best read after chapter 40 of Rascal Summary: After her lawyers contact Willie, Edith Anne goes home to face her future ex-husband. Length: oneshot, 2623 words

Many people—especially my son—think I’m brave by nature. It’s never that easy. If I have the option to delay unpleasant matters for a short time, I’ll stay somewhere safe and harden my exoskeleton like a freshly-molted animal. Confrontations are best when planned to do the least damage.

Oh yes, I can react in a snap if necessary. The wife of someone as impulsive and reckless as William Raston must be. Kingdom Hearts Pretty Cute Smile Demyx/Ienzo Summary: It was simple. All he had to say? “No.” But the moment Ienzo smiled, one corner of his upturned lips hidden behind his bangs, Demyx caved. The word “no” was lost temporarily. Length: oneshot, 908 words

He enjoyed Ienzo’s company, and he was going to have it one way or another. In fact, maybe he liked Ienzo a little better than Zexion, because Ienzo smiled.

And that smile was pretty cute.

Language of Flowers Strelitzia, Lauriam Summary: They didn’t mind getting their hands covered in soil and compost, leaving dustings of it across the stairs of Daybreak Town. Length: oneshot, 485 words Lauriam taught his sister about the different local bees and other pollinators when she was but a wee thing standing in his shadow. The trellises in their family garden bloomed and fruited every spring, the vines clenched around the soft wood as if little arms clinging upward to beat the other plants to the sun.

[humanveil]

got an ask on the eo account from some dickhead talking shit but there’s a point in there about how “i did feel like stabler was my home” is just liv confirming past feelings and how being happy about that line is stupid bc it’s not canon anymore and it’s like… buddy. you do not know me at all. the One True Canon is the post s12 au that lives inside my head. i can take or leave anything from s13 onwards. i am so unserious about current eo & just trust that they’ll figure their shit out eventually; the 3.0 stuff that makes me feral is the stuff that validates my perception of 1.0 eo. the whole point to me is that they’re having people in the text go hey! you were right! the love was there!!!! it was there the whole fucking time and they were both aware of it!!! liv could never forgive him and they could never move past it and this would still make me balls to the wall insane

[acourtofquestions]

ANOTHER!

A lil bored & mostly sleep deprived (but gotta stay awake for da bb’s (trying to channel Auntie/god-mother Taylor Swift vibes; because that woman never sleeps & practically runs the universe)… but alas my weakness; I have no books available😭 & since I’m still thinking about Throne of Glass 24/7 because how could I not in a post-EoS world) I’m answering them myself😂 … so you’ve been warned; this weekend of sleep deprivation, auntie duties, and travel shall lead to some weird posts probably😅😂 or perhaps new genius *she said humbly* … though less of a “genius” fashion & more of a mad scientist throwing spaghetti at a wall🤣 … here’s a more bar for the sake of “the feed”😂🤣

Rowan likes frosted mini wheats. Aelin mocks him for it relentlessly calling him grandpa or snowman.

Aelin is always storing a kick-ass dress in the back closet… and it probably is quite literally able to kick-ass as it is loaded with daggered corsets.

A library for Aelin, anywhere with Aelin for Rowan… or maybe a beach🤣

Aelin has a legit “get ready” routine, oils, perfumes, skincare, you name it (in an AU she would even own THE headband). Rowan just uses whatever she tells him to (or not to) though she still lets him use the lavender soap😭

Rowan and Aelin are both big on physical touch; they need proof the other is alive & well, close enough to hold their hand & remind them, or at least be protected if they need to jump in front of a bullet. They often show love the same way; in the little things they can do amid chaos. Rowan gently rubbing Aelin’s back, Aelin kissing his cheek, or brushing his hand on her way out. They like to be close, always sitting next to each other, or going so far as to share a seat if there isn’t room (though Aelin is kinda like a cat & has a habit of turning anything into a seat, whether it be a table, wall, or person). Rowan has also learned to sit beside her & never stand while a meeting has free chairs unless he wants relentless mocking for “perching” or being ready to fight, flee, or jump in front of a bullet for her at any given moment… including breakfast. As far as differences go; Aelin is also big on quality time (or more so any amount of time) just being in the same vicinity each doing/reading their own thing. Really, any moment they have (even solving murders😅) she wants and needs to spend it with him as well as feel like he wants to spend time with her (reminder: she has major abandonment issues). And she can be surprisingly sentimental for someone who’s never had anything, the things she does she struggles not to keep forever, while Rowan is the opposite. Mostly though it’s just noticing her and doing something specific for her. Words of affirmation melt her into a puddle of heartsick puppy love (Rowan is surpsingly good at them) and it’s one of the main ways he does show affection. She shows Rowan in little things (or big little things) like setting up a surprise (gift-ish), or washing his hair (physical touch/acts of serve), doing something so he doesn’t have to like finishing paperwork, or dishes, something little to make it easier to rest when he gets home (even going so far as to try & make dinner… though she’s been banned from cooking after almost setting the castle on fire & simultaneously giving everyone food poisoning). Final note: Acts of service are dearly noted by both, but honestly overall terrifying as they’ve lost too many people (and are both far too ready to die for the other) so it’s kinda off limits😅🖤.

Aelin has always loved pretty things, as an only princess she had everything she could have wanted, except the one thing she really ever wanted most; normalcy. Then she lost everything, every pretty trinket, every person, any sense of “normal” or the world. And while she got many gifts, Arobynn’s “love” came & went with bribes, rewards, punishments, and tests; a taste of freedom, pretty dresses or new weapons, creepy perfumes, than nothing. And once again, all she craved was normalcy. A family. & nothing ever filled that gap, or became more than just “things”; things she loved, things she held onto, but never quite “everything”. As far as gifts that meant something though: the amulet of course as the last gift from her mother & surviving family heirloom. The candies from Dorian, the ring from Chaol (for a time), the books… so many books… perhaps most of all the moment Rowan brought her chocolates (back when they were still “just friends” — but even then)… however the greatest will always be Fleetfoot; it is beyond a gift, IT’S FLEETFOOT. Sorry future Rowan/everyone, I don’t think much could top that. For Rowan, let’s say he wanted a sword from the moment he could wield one (more than the sticks his cousins & him would use as kids) most of all he wanted to be a knight, a warrior, dreamed of a greater purpose; ever the practical yet fire-hearted baby fae🥹.

Rowan did not write any, except for Lyria, he did everything he could to win her, to love her, back when he was a “young immortal”. And though he will deny this at all costs, he can be quite the poet… and still will leave little notes for Aelin; indecipherable inside jokes in their secret little love language. And Aelin was a sparkly, neon, gel pen with heart dotted eyes kinda cover my notebook in “Mrs. so - and - so’s name”.

They both have trouble unwinding and need to learn to rest, so often it’s less routine & more so a non-stop marathon of work & wars & training & something/anything to do or distract free time; until they are so tired they fall asleep the second they hit the pillow. When they decide to try & “learn to rest” it normally looks something like Rowan hunched over his desk toying with some project, a new drawing (he doesn’t get much time for it but he does love it when he can). While Aelin takes a fancy bath with all the candles, bubbles, & bath bombs, she can cram into a single pampering. By the time it’s actually time for bed they’ve both normally managed to wind themselves back up from the free-time to think, falling into work or some old “busy” habit, so they try to trade books & keep their minds busy. (Especially since Aelin has exited the bath to find him practically tying red thread; marking maps, learning new war strategies, & reading she describes as “depressing manifestos of mind numbing nothingness” that she must read aloud as dramatically as she possibly can to “show him the light of never reading such things again”… or at least make him laugh till the lines ease from his face again). Though book trading has also proved to be a very chaos ensuing activity, after Aelin decided to start giving him the worst, romance novels she could find (she hasn’t even made it through half of them herself… she just likes seeing what shade of pink she can make his ears turn) while it has proved to give him some new inventive ways to get back at her😂 (he tried a mathematics book once… it ended with her nearly chucking it through the window😂. Otherwise Rowan always grab Aelin an extra blanket (mostly because she hogs them all; despite the fact she’s the one with the fire powers😂 she once went so far as to ask him to cool down the room because it was too hot all the while she was piled under four blankets she simply could not move as it was too soft).

Her last birthday, the last she can remember; when the kingdom was full of life and so was her family as they celebrated their little princess, the streets had flowers and fires and she felt free as the wind as she danced and ran with Aedion the entire night. … Rowan bringing her chocolates in Mistward was the first birthday since that last one that was worthy of being remembered. Rowan stopped celebrating birthdays long ago, it seemed pointless as an immortal (especially one who’s “mate” was gone) and since she was the only one who would still put in effort to make it special; no one even knew his birthdate for a long time after… until (like most things) until Aelin; she spent days baking a cake (that turned out far more crisp than cake), but her laugh; the utterly lovely chaos of her covered in flour, alarms going off & smoke in the air, yet streamers & all this celebration had been set just for him made him feel more thankful then any wish come true ever had. She made every birthday since worth celebrating with him.

Anything the other does (there’s a reason Rowan eat the whole horrid cake, and Aelin cried when Rowan spoke those beautiful words). They are fire & ice, they literally never stop melting. … for Aelin it’s the little details; how well he knows her (even the parts she hates or tries to hide), the scars he kisses, the way he holds her hand a little tighter because he just knows when something (even the littlest of comments) hit where it hurt, the way he makes sure she feels safe with him & is as safe as possible even in the terrors of their world, the way he remembers things; the dates that make her want to run, the shirts that lived in that bottom drawer for months; he never cared, never got jealous, never gave her grief for anything she was or felt. For Rowan it’s the moments he realizes he is loved wholly & he has finally found her; this magical, other worldly, miracle for him. It’s her teasing him like anyone else (not a dangerous general, or widower, ancient hero, or cursed villain), it’s her laugh, it’s the way her eyes glimmer for him, or seek him in a heavy room. It’s the moments she looks up and smiles because it’s him she saw, or comes running to jump into a hug even if she saw him mere hours ago. It’s the days he wakes with her asleep on his chest, peaceful, safe, simply being and breathing. It’s smoke & alarms, her making breakfast & burning everything to chars. It’s the fire breathing, promising heart, of life; of living life, wherever it may be, or go.

Aelin will spin the teacups until she is sick… and she often is because she happily stuffs her face with everything she can find; including the non-existent fruit, neon colored, pure sugar (that the court has considered banning her from after a sugar crash once nearly caused a little more than a “sunburn” for half of Epcot). Rowan likes the giant turkey legs… or liked… until he found out it was a bird… one that he claims cannot possibly occur in nature… after a few trips without them & seagull dive bombs he gave up on caring and went back to his “meat on a stick” favorites😂.

Aelin tried to learn to knit once… let’s just say everyone got a lot of tangled web like half singed baby blankets that year that Rowan may or may not have death-glared them into liking. Rowan likes woodworking & building bird houses, and Aelin makes the wood burning process much faster … minus her MANY bird puns. Rowan once considered keeping a nice one nearby for the next pun he hears😂 or argument he loses sent off to the “dog house” or in his case ⬆️🤣.

Primarily, Answered in love languages. Rowan is a beautifully true “perfect” words of affirmation person (fae) primarily but also gentle physical touch; a hand squeeze, a back rub, a forehead kiss, a shoulder to lean on. Aelin is also a physical touch; hold your hand, kiss your cheek, hug, etc. she is also a “little details” acts of service; like let me put this away so it’s one less thing for you to do. Or let me leave a tiny “gift-ish” thing around for you. Or let me spend & make the time to do something special and make a memory for us. Kinda gal.

Back before game night was cancelled after a “Settlers of Catan” game left Yrene to quite literally stitch everyone back together with the pieces😅 (banning; Aelin, (Lorcan if Aelin is anywhere near by) Aedion, Manon, & by compliant association & too smart counting Dorian😂). Mario Kart remains undecided despite it being just as lethal (however they all enjoy it too much to suggest another ban😂). Before this Aelin used to pick Monopoly (despite the fact everyone & she hates it) precisely why, as she liked her own new rules, & determined to win chaos. Rowan likes chess, and battleship (one he & Aelin can agree upon); Though he also secretly enjoys the video games he’s “begrudingly forced to play”. And they both get far too much enjoyment out of clue, minus the “inaccuracies” according to Aelin😅😂.

Aelin loves sitcoms, she’s seem most of them 10 times over. She however writes for romance novels… which Rowan would die from if he ever knew was her (& vice-verse anyone ever found his accounts ;-) & he likes watching HGTV?😂

Rowan loves helping out around the house anyway he can, especially if he can with Aelin; he just appreciates being able to take care of her. Aelin loves doing the dishes (she likes to try and practice her water magic… and if Rowan happens to get soaked in the process or the soap bubbles up to cover the kitchen… who’s to say if she meant it or not ;-)😂

Fireheart & Buzzard🥹 (the fact this is canon — my gods I love them). Pretty much any nickname from Aelin is going to be teasing and sarcastic & possibly drive you nuts at first (uncle kitty) and any from Rowan are going to make you cry (not even a “nickname” but every time he calls Aedion brother, and Lysandra his sister, my heart pulls a grinch and grows even more🥹😍😭)

They love to travel. Especially when they can find somewhere Rowan hasn’t been (it’s rare in his 200 years but they’ve found a few) thankfully in contrast it’s easy for Aelin (as she hasn’t been most places) and she loves getting to see the world she dreamed about but was always bound away from. Rowan makes for a great tour guide because he knows where the non tourists hundred year old ruins are to visit ;-) & they often run off to their own secret adventures, or trying to find the best hole-in-the-wall cafe/mom&pop shops. She does enjoy going “full tourist” mode some days (the I heart New York tee & everything… partially because the glare from Rowan as she says “smile” and flashes cameras is priceless🤣) or in the complete opposite mode she tries to be a local (Lysandra taught her well) & she’s got some convincing accents… but on occasion it goes horribly hilariously wrong & becomes far too much fun for them. Same with shopping districts (Aelin will get samples until she’s practically had a meal… & then change costumes for more after a ban). Lysandra however is far better at this & a preferable companion for such mischief; and they do love traveling with their family too. They miss them when they’re away too long.

Aelin loves flowers, Rowan loves the woods; it makes a good combo of him finding them & leaving them for her as a surprise, or on a bedside table with a note when she wakes up. Every-time her heart gets so sappy over it she wants to keep them forever (and often does; drying them into bookmarks… their shelves are full🥹). Aelin also loves spices for cooking, or lavender for soaps and perfumes, so he often brings her new things; loving how much she loves the little “moments of luxury”. He was the first one to ever bring her flowers (he is 200 years old after all he had to retain some sort of classic chivalry) and the way her eyes sparkled that first time made it impossible for him to ever pass something beautiful without stealing a piece for her. She did try to braid them into his hair once😂. Or make him wish on every dandelion they pass, & he does because her crinkling nose as she grins at him is enough to make him smile until they both laugh.

Aelin can make a fire, or a heating blanket of a shield; however despite the many ways THE “Fire-Bringer” could, her preferred method of warmth is getting as close to Rowan as possible. He is in agreement with this method.😂

Rowan is incredibly proud of Aelin. It is his honor to be hers, to serve a Queen who is so good, to love a woman who has a heart of wildfire. And she is incredibly proud of them all; this court of dreamers, her family. — It’s the only thing she undoubtably knows somehow went right… Lysandra especially; every-time she sees Evangeline she is so thankful; they were able to spare someone where they were not so lucky, they are fighting to stop the cycle. And she is proud to be the friend & sister of such a woman, & the lucky aunt of such a niece.

Rowan & Aelin have a real Luke & Laurelai vibe when it comes to coffee; Rowan thinks it’s a death trap, despite Aelin’s affliction/affecrion for it. Though Rowan & Aedion did have to set a rule for how much espresso is allowed within a 10 mile radius of her after a venti & 2 days of no sleep nearly has her burning the palace down.😂 He’ll drink whatever’s around & doesn’t mind when Aelin mixes some cinnamon or something in, otherwise he’s a 1 black coffee kinda guy. Aelin likes anything with sugar and spice and espresso… but often sticks to tea for sanity’s sake.😂

Aelin loves the finer things in life; including her secret drawer full of chocolate. & Rowan has Aelin.😂

Aelin unabashedly loves rom coms & chick-flicks, though musicals are her favorite (even the ones she can’t stand, or are not at all happy & instead tragedies); she likes plays the most though). Rowan “hates them” but always cries at the notebook; he will deny this & do it everytime.

Each other period. Fleetfoot running with Evangeline in a meadow, filled with their family of friends, give everyone a book to read & good music; that’s their “happiest place” haven.

Happy Headcanons Asks!

Send me a character and a number and  I’ll answer: 

Which type of cereal is their favorite?

What outfit do they wear when they need to feel confident?

Describe their dream date

What is their bath or shower routine?

What is their love language?

What was on the TOP of their Haukkah/Christmas/Birthday/etc list as a kid?

What did their high school love letters look like?

What is their bedtime routine?

Describe their happiest birthday.

What makes them melt romantically?

What is their favorite ride at Disneyland? Favorite food?

What craft do they learn to make for a gift? Who do they give it to?

How do they like to provide for others?

What game do they always select for game night?

What fandom do they write fanfic for? Give us a small sample.

Which household chore do they privately love?

What sappy nickname do they give their loved one(s)?

What is their favorite touristy thing to do when traveling?

Do they like to receive flowers? Give flowers? What kinds?

How do they warm up when it’s cold outside?

What makes them feel proud?

What is their usual Starbucks order?

How does this character indulge themselves?

Which sappy romantic movie is their favorite? Do they admit to it?

What brings them the most unmitigated joy in all the world?

[wingedblooms]

The Ancients

This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.

“I’m afraid I can’t be of service,” Mort sniffed. “If you want an instant answer, you should find yourself a seer or an oracle.” 

Celaena slowed her pacing. “You think if I read this to someone with the gift of clairvoyance, they might be able to … see some different meaning that I’m missing?”

“Perhaps. Though as far as I know, when magic vanished, those with the gift of Sight lost it, too.” 

“Yes, but you’re still here.” 

“So?” Celaena looked at the stone ceiling as if she could see through it, all the way to the ground above. 

“So perhaps other ancient beings might retain some of their gifts, too.” (com)

In acowar, we learn that Elain is a seer and in the Maasverse, seer seems to be a broad term associated with the gift of Sight. Sarah sometimes uses seer interchangeably with oracle, as we see below. 

It was a useless gift, she’d decided as a child. It couldn’t do much at all beyond blinding people, as she’d done to her father’s men when they came after her and her mother and Randall, as had happened to the Oracle when the seer peered into her future and beheld only her blazing light, as she’d done to those asp-hole smugglers. (hoeab)

An oracle appears to be a type of seer; at the very least, they have similar gifts of clairvoyance. Oracles were believed to be messengers, or conduits, for gods. We see indications of this in the scene where Hunt visits the oracle sphinx in hoeab. While we don’t know the full extent of Elain’s gifts, her abilities are referred to as oracular, and she shares parallels with both oracles and mystics in the Maasverse. 

In fact, her gifts seem like they could rival the ancient beings Aelin referenced in the first quote. She tracks down Baba Yellowlegs—an Ancient—to help her unravel a mystery, and introduces us to another important method of Sight they cherish: witch mirrors.

Witch mirrors

If Yellowlegs truly was a witch, then perhaps she had the gift of Sight.

“Come to look into the mirrors?” she said, smoke spilling from her withered lips. “Done running from fate at last?” (com)

In the gloom, the caravan stretched on much wider and longer than should have been possible. A winding path had been made between the mirrors, leading into the dark—a path that Yellowlegs was now treading, as if there were anywhere to go inside this strange place.

[…]

As she strode through the forest of mirrors, her reflection shifted everywhere. In one she appeared short and fat, in another tall and impossibly thin. In another she stood upside down, and in yet another she walked sideways. It was enough to give her a headache. (com)

First, I would be remiss if I didn't point out the fact that Aelin links witches to the gift of Sight, just like in Midgard. Second, Yellowlegs’ caravan is unusual because its materials (the stones in the oven and wood in the walls) come from the ruins of the Crochan city. Combined with witch mirrors, it creates an otherworldly illusion that disorients Aelin and makes it difficult to escape Yellowlegs’ clutches. 

Later, we learn from Manon that witch mirrors can be used to see, communicate, or amplify power:  

“You can see the future, past, present. You can speak between mirrors, if someone possesses the sister-glass. And then there are the rare silvers—whose forging demands something vital from the maker.” Manon’s voice dropped low. Dorian wondered if even among the Blackbeaks, these tales had only been whispered at their campfires. “Other mirrors amplify and hold blasts of raw power, to be unleashed if the mirror is aimed at something.” (eos)

She and Aelin even enter a witch mirror to view a memory, and like I’ve discussed before, this experience might mimic Elain’s murky realm. 

Aelin had a body that was not a body. She knew only because in this void, this foggy twilight, Manon had a body. A nearly transparent, wraithlike body, but…a form nonetheless.

Manon’s teeth and nails glinted in the dim light as she surveyed the swirling gray mists. “What is this place?” The mirror had transported them to…wherever this was. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, witch.” Had time stopped beyond the mists?

[…]

The eddying fog darkened, and Manon and Aelin stepped close together, back to back. Pure night swept around them—blinding them.

Then—a murky, dim light ahead. No, not ahead. Approaching them. Manon’s bony shoulder dug into her own as they pressed tighter together, an impenetrable wall. 

But the light rippled and expanded, figures within it appearing. Solidifying. 

Aelin knew three things as the light and color enveloped them and became tangible: They were not seen, or heard, or scented by those before them. 

And this was the past. A thousand years ago, to be exact. (eos) 

@offtorivendell and I suspect there may also be witch mirrors in Prythian: 

“My sister had a collection of mirrors in her black castle,” the Carver said. We halted once more. “She admired herself day and night in those mirrors, gloating over her youth and beauty. There was one mirror—the Ouroboros, she called it. It was old even when we were young. A window to the world. All could be seen, all could be told through its dark surface. Keir possesses it—an heirloom of his household. Bring it to me. That is my price. The Ouroboros, and I am yours to wield. If you can find a way to free me.” A hateful smile. (acowar)

Stryga, which is awfully close to the word for witch (striga, strega, shtriga, etc.), used her mirrors to spy on the world. It’s possible that her black castle was Hewn City, a place of rotting darkness that is home to wicked heirlooms much like her extensive collection in the cottage. Are Stryga and her magical mirrors also somehow connected to Maeve and the Valg? And if her heirlooms are also Mor’s family heirlooms, does that mean they are distantly related to Stryga and the Valg, and therefore connected to witches? Wounds associated with the Valg are described as rotted darkness (tod), making me truly wonder about the Court of Nightmares and those who inhabit and rule it now. 

In tog, Maeve—a dark queen and world-walker like Stryga—confirms that mirrors can be used to spy, travel, and kill. She says she taught the witches how to use their enchanted mirrors. If Stryga is connected to the Valg, did she see her outward beauty in the mirror, or the displeasing form beneath (to use Maeve’s own words), no matter how many beautiful maidens she hunted and devoured? Could that unpleasant form look like the Valg princess we see in tog? 

Its true form…It was as horrific as she’d imagined. 

Smoke swirled and coiled about it, revealing glimpses of gangly limbs and talons, mostly hairless gray, slick skin, and unnaturally large dark eyes that raged as she looked upon it. [...] It hissed, revealing pointed, fish-sharp teeth. Your world shall fall. As the others have done. As all others will. (tod)

That would certainly drive someone like Stryga, who is obsessed with youth and beauty, insane. And it would make so much more sense that her true form–the rotted core of the Valg–would be capable of corrupting an enchanted mirror as scholars claim.  

Save for the Weaver in the Wood—who certainly seemed insane enough, perhaps thanks to the mirror she’d so dearly loved. Or perhaps whatever evil lurked in her had tainted the mirror, too. Some of the philosophers had suggested as much, though they hadn’t known her name—only that a dark queen had once possessed it, cherished it. Spied on the world with it—and used it to hunt down beautiful young maidens to keep her eternally young. (acowar)

Much like Baba Yellowlegs, Stryga had a habit of devouring beautiful maidens and, once confined to the Middle, lured unsuspecting beings to her cottage. @offtorivendell has wondered if the Ouroboros will make a reappearance and if so, it might make the most sense in Elain’s story. It is interesting that Clotho helped Feyre find books on the Ouroboros and is the last known person in possession of Elain’s glass amulet. I do think this amulet could be connected to witch mirrors, even if only as a symbolic hint of things to come. The phrase secret, lovely beauty is repeated, suggesting a link—or sister-glass, if you will—between two females with hidden depths (more on this in The sense chanted and Groundings). 

The Ancients 

In addition to sharing information about witch mirrors, Manon confirms that some witches—like Baba Yellowlegs—have the gift of Sight. 

Aelin murmured, “Nameless is my price.” Aedion opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what had snagged her interest, but Aelin frowned at Manon. “Can your kind see the future? See it as an oracle can?”

“Some,” Manon admitted. “The Bluebloods claim to.”

“Can other Clans?”

“They say that for the Ancients, past and present and future bleed together.” (eos)

The Blackbeak and Blueblood Matrons are also referred to as Ancients. Together, the Matrons represent the Three-Faced Goddess: Crone (Yellowlegs), Mother (Blackbeak), and Maiden (Blueblood). This goddess supposedly gave the witches their iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away.

Legend had it that all witches had been gifted by the Three-Faced Goddess with iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away. The iron crown, supposedly, was proof that the magic in the Blueblood line ran so strong that their leader needed more—needed iron and pain—to keep her tethered in this realm. 

Nonsense. Especially when magic had been gone these past ten years. But Manon had heard rumors of the rituals the Bluebloods did in their forests and caves, rituals in which pain was the gateway to magic, to opening their senses. Oracles, mystics, zealots. (hof)

Nesta and Elain—who were Made in the Cauldron (which may be connected to the Three-Faced Goddess, as one of them is called Mother)—have iron mental gates. They also both wore iron bracelets and Elain has an iron engagement ring somewhere in her trove of jewelry. Elain, the obvious choice for the Maiden aspect, also wore a blue cloak during the witch accusation in Windhaven and seems to possess the most powerful Sight. Is it possible that time bleeds together in her murky realm like it does for the Ancients, and she might need even more iron, or something else, to remain tethered to Prythian? 

“An Ancient,” Dorian mused, then murmured to Manon, “Baba Yellowlegs.” 

They all turned to him. But Manon’s fingers brushed against her collarbone—where the necklace of Aelin’s scars from Yellowlegs still ringed her neck in stark white. 

“This winter, she was at your castle,” Manon said to him. “Working as a fortune-teller.”

Manon stared the general down. “Yellowlegs was a fortune-teller—a powerful oracle. I bet she knew who the queen was the moment she saw her. And saw things she planned to sell to the highest bidder.” Dorian tried not to flinch at the memory. Aelin had butchered Yellowlegs when she’d threatened to sell his secrets. Aelin had never implied a threat against her own. Manon continued, “Yellowlegs wouldn’t have told the queen anything outright, only in veiled terms. So it’d drive the girl mad when she figured it out.” (eos) 

Does Elain also know a person’s secrets on sight like Baba Yellowlegs? Is that why she was the only one who suspected Feyre’s pregnancy, and why she hasn’t yet met a character with a secret beneath her pretty face? 

A Cauldron-blessed seer, could she even be the Eye of the Goddess incarnate, a divine guardian, as I suggested in Herbs she planted? 

A large circle—and two overlapping circles, one atop the other, within its circumference. “That is the Three-Faced Goddess,” Manon said, her voice low. “We call this …” She drew a rough line in the centermost circle, in the eye-shaped space where they overlapped. “The Eye of the Goddess. Not Elena.” She circled the exterior again. “Crone,” she said of the outermost circumference. She circled the interior top circle: “Mother.” She circled the bottom: “Maiden.” She stabbed the eye inside: “And the heart of the Darkness within her.” It was Aelin’s turn to shake her head. The others didn’t so much as blink.

“That is an Ironteeth symbol. Blueblood prophets have it tattooed over their hearts. And those who won valor in battle, when we lived in the Wastes … they were once given those. To mark our glory—our being Goddess-blessed." (eos)

What if, like a Blueblood prophet, Elain is given a bargain tattoo of the Eye of the Goddess on her heart? (Please, Sarah.) Or perhaps its floral equivalent in Prythian: a layered rose that blooms with three colors when exposed to light, revealing the heart of Darkness within? A mark of the Goddess…

The Cauldron shattered into three pieces, peeling apart like a blossoming flower—and then she came. […] I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron … It was a void. But also not a void—a growth. (acowar)

to complement the eye of the beast in her love interest’s siphon? 

I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. (acomaf)

or her mate’s magical eye?  

“This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others…can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” (acowar)

Only Time, or the wind, will tell what form the future might take. 

Next: Song of the wind, or how Elain might travel like a witch. 

Series: seer. wise woman. witch.

[learnhowtocreatemusic]

How to Create a Functional YouTube Studio in a Small Room on a Budget

Creating a YouTube studio in a small room doesn’t have to break the bank. With the right strategies, you can turn even a compact space into a functional studio, complete with affordable gear that ensures high-quality video and audio production. In this blog post, we’ll explore setup tips and essential gear recommendations to help you build your studio without exceeding your budget.

1. **Maximizing Small Spaces: Layout and Lighting**

The first step in building a functional YouTube studio is planning the layout to optimize your limited space. Even a small room can be transformed with the right organization and lighting.

- **Declutter the Room:** Clear out unnecessary items to maximize the available area. Shelving units, wall mounts, or corner desks help keep the space tidy while giving you more room to film.

- **Use Natural Light:** If possible, position your desk or filming setup near a window to utilize natural lighting. This will reduce the need for additional lighting equipment, saving you money.

- **Affordable Lighting Options:** If natural light isn’t available, go for budget-friendly lighting such as LED ring lights or softbox kits. They offer good diffusion without harsh shadows. A basic 18-inch ring light can cost as little as $50.

2. **Budget-Friendly Camera Options**

You don’t need an expensive DSLR to create high-quality YouTube videos. There are plenty of budget-friendly options that still deliver impressive results.

- **Smartphone Camera:** Most modern smartphones have excellent cameras capable of recording in 1080p or even 4K. Invest in a sturdy tripod and phone mount (both available for under $30) to stabilize your shots.

- **Entry-Level Camera:** If you prefer a dedicated camera, consider options like the Canon EOS M50 or Sony ZV-1, both of which are popular among content creators for their affordability and quality. These cameras typically cost around $500 but can often be found on sale or second-hand for less.

3. **Affordable Audio Gear for Clear Sound**

Clear audio is just as important as video quality for engaging content. Luckily, you don’t have to spend a lot to get good sound.

- **Lavalier Microphone:** If you’re recording talking-head videos, a lavalier (clip-on) mic like the **Rode SmartLav+** ($80) or the budget-friendly **BOYA BY-M1** ($20) is perfect for capturing clear, professional-quality sound.

- **USB Microphone:** For sit-down or voice-over videos, a USB microphone like the **Blue Yeti Nano** ($100) or **FIFINE K669** ($30) offers excellent sound quality and is easy to set up with a computer.

4. **Creating a Soundproofed Environment**

If your small room has a lot of echo or background noise, basic sound treatment is key to improving your audio quality. Fortunately, there are affordable solutions for this.

- **Acoustic Foam Panels:** You can buy foam panels in bulk for around $30 to $50. Place them on walls, especially behind the camera and on either side of where you speak.

- **DIY Soundproofing:** For an even cheaper option, hang thick blankets or curtains around the room to dampen sound. Rugs or carpeting can also help reduce noise and echo.

5. **Background and Decor Ideas**

Your background plays a big role in the visual appeal of your videos. Even in a small space, you can create a stylish and professional-looking backdrop.

- **Simple Backdrops:** Invest in an inexpensive plain-colored backdrop or tapestry (around $20). Alternatively, use a corner of the room and decorate it with bookshelves, plants, or artwork for added personality.

- **DIY Green Screen:** If you want to get creative with editing, you can make a green screen with affordable fabric ($15-$25) and hang it up during filming. This opens up endless possibilities for customizable backgrounds.

6. **Editing Software for Beginners**

Once you’ve shot your footage, you’ll need user-friendly and affordable editing software to put it all together.

- **Free Editing Software:** If you’re just starting out, tools like **DaVinci Resolve** or **HitFilm Express** offer powerful editing capabilities for free.

- **Affordable Paid Software:** For more advanced features, you might consider **Filmora** ($60/year) or **Adobe Premiere Elements** ($100), which are great for beginners looking for intuitive interfaces.

7. **Other Essential Accessories**

There are a few additional accessories that will make your YouTube studio more functional without breaking the bank.

- **Tripod:** As mentioned, a basic tripod ($20-$40) is essential for stabilizing your shots, whether you’re using a smartphone or camera.

- **Remote Control:** For solo creators, a Bluetooth remote (around $10) can make starting and stopping recording a breeze without having to move back and forth.

- **Cable Management:** Keep your studio looking neat by investing in cheap cable clips or Velcro ties to organize your wires.

8. **Tips for Budget-Friendly Studio Building**

- **Buy Used Gear:** Consider purchasing second-hand cameras, lights, and mics. You can often find great deals on platforms like eBay or Facebook Marketplace.

- **Upgrade Slowly:** You don’t have to buy everything at once. Start with the essentials (camera, mic, lights), and gradually add more equipment as your budget allows.

- **Repurpose Household Items:** Look around your home for items you can repurpose, such as using books as a camera stand or an old blanket as soundproofing material.

Conclusion

Building a functional YouTube studio in a small room on a budget is entirely possible with careful planning and smart choices. By focusing on affordable gear, maximizing your space, and repurposing household items, you can create high-quality content without the need for a huge investment. Whether you’re a beginner or a seasoned creator, these tips will help you produce professional videos from even the smallest of rooms.

Happy creating!

[gumnut-logic]

Was poking around in my fic folder and found this. Not sure if I have posted it before? Maybe? Dunno. But anyway, random whump, complete with whump warning. Small mention of blood.

-o-o-o-

Somebody was testing them.

Or perhaps someone was torturing them.

Scott sighed enough to fog up his helmet and regretted it immediately, blinded by his own breath.

His suit’s systems soon caught up and cleared the plexiglass so that what little he could see came fast back into focus. Sprawled on his butt in the cold snow of their tiny bolthole, that did not amount to much.

“Scott?”

He jumped.

That was not a good sign. He needed to be alert.

Virgil needed him.

His brother lay propped up against a partly fallen wooden wall, the pallor of his complexion only increased by the poor lighting. Like Scott he still had his helmet on, but unlike Scott, he had a nasty broken leg.

“Sorry, what?”

Dark eyes probed Scott like a medical scanner. “You sure you’re okay?” Virgil held up a hand. “Give me the medscanner.”

“Virg-“

“Now.”

Scott sighed and handed it over. He was a fool to attempt to keep it from Virgil. Might as well put the medic’s mind to rest. After all, there was nothing wrong with Scott at all, bar the headache.

“You have a concussion.” His brother frowned at the scanner readout, lips a worried line. “You need to rest.”

What?

The flicker of yellow light passed over him again, his brother’s obvious worry increasing by the moment.

“Scott, come here.”

The snow under Scott shifted as he moved. “I need to see to your leg.”

Virgil’s eyes darted at him. “You need to rest.”

“You’re bleeding, Virgil.” He reached for the rest of his compact medkit.

“Hardly.”

“Your leg is broken.”

“This is not a competition.”

“Unfortunately, triage is exactly that.” Scott forced himself to concentrate and his head complained loudly. He realised that Virgil might be onto something with that concussion diagnosis. How the hell did he get that while wearing his helmet.

By falling down a mountain.

Focus.

His grapple gun made a good torch, but he did not like what it lit up. Virgil’s lower right leg was bent at an awkward angle, both bones obviously broken. One had pierced the skin, but not his brother’s uniform, an ominous lump in the blue fabric of Virgil’s jumpsuit the only indicator of what the medscanner had revealed to be a very nasty break that was leaking precious blood into his brother’s clothing.

They were in a small cavity buried in snow. Scott blinked. They had been evacuating an alpine lodge. Both One and Two had been on site. Another slow blink. But only Scott and Virgil. Alan and Gordon were up at Alphie with Uncle...Uncle...

“John, Scott is deteriorating. Any chance of getting help here sooner?”

“Doing my best, Thunderbird Two.” John? John’s voice was harried. Worried. “I have recalled Thunderbird Three. Alan, Gordon and Captain Taylor are on their way back. One and Two are under Eos’ control. The local GDF are caught up in the same incident that prevented them from attending this one in the first place. Working on it.”

“I know you’ll do your best, John.”

Scott had the distinct feeling he should be doing something, but his head was in a painful fog. Virgil was hurt. John was harried. Scott was Commander. He needed to do something.

“Scott, come here.”

“Have to fix your leg. You’re bleeding.” He shuffled closer to his brother.

“You need to rest. I will take care of it. Come and sit next to me.”

“I’m going to wrap the wound. We need to stop the bleeding.”

Virgil sighed. “Fine. But do it quickly and take it easy. You aren’t well yourself.”

“I have a concussion. I’m not dying.”

Virgil grunted, but Scott ignored him and adjusted the output of his grapple gun to its lowest setting. There was a sizzle and a horrible smell as he cut off Virgil’s pant leg. Red splattered onto the white snow, harsh in the light.

The sight of his brother’s injury was worse and despite his seasoned status as a first responder, Scott’s stomach roiled.

This was his brother.

His little brother.

“Hey, hey, Scott! Look at me!” Virgil grunted as he shifted, reaching over to grab at Scott’s arm. He tugged hard, forcing Scott’s attention to him.

Dark eyes, taut with worry grabbed his own. “Scott, please come here and sit with me.” Virgil tugged at his arm again as his breath hissed between his teeth.

Scott found himself blinking again. What the hell was wrong with him?

Lacking answers, he let himself be tugged up closer to his brother. Virgil’s arm reached around him and pulled Scott against his side.

His head was lowered to his brother’s shoulder and Virgil absently ran a thumb up and down his arm.

It was reassuring.

It was warm.

Virgil was always warm.

“Hey, stay with me.”

Virgil’s voice was as warm as he was. He could always rely on Virgil. He could…

-o-o-o-

TBC?

[jeanbeaux]

CANDIDS

bertholdt hoover x f!reader

w/c: 1.5k

genre/warnings: modern!au, tooth rotting fluff, author apologizes for any cavities given, Bertholdt is introduced like a haikyuu character post time skip

a/n: This is a part of @peachy-momos​’ 300 follower polaroid collab! I had a lot of fun with it and hope you enjoy, Berty boi is def one of my underrated faves of the AOT universe. Much love to my beta-reader @ivsahi who has now realized shes a bertholdt kinnie.

If you were to ask Bertholdt Hoover, 25, wildlife photographer for National Geographic, what his favorite camera he had used over the years was, the answer would surprise you.

It’s not his father’s old Minolta Maxxum 7000, which he found at age six. He wasn’t even after the camera, just fascinated by the worn leather strap that was peaking out of the shelf in the living room. And so he reached up on his tip-toes and yanked down, sending the rest of the books clattering as the 35 MM SLR fell into his grubby little hands. The crash gave his mother a fright, but her scolding died on her tongue as she saw her son’s steel green eyes light up with fascination as he played with the dials. 

Nor is it the Canon EOS 7D he got on his 10th birthday.  He carried that with him everywhere, taking pictures of him and Reiner on their adventures in the patch of woods beyond his house or the various dogs he saw in his neighborhood. He’s pretty sure his fingerprints have worn into the rubber grip on the side. 

Those cameras started it all for him, and they sit in retirement beside all the shiny DSLRs and focus attachments on the dark cherry floating shelves in his office. With a wall of his room dedicated to computerized gadgets that have let him capture migratory birds in flight and cheetahs mid stride, it’s almost outlandish that Bertholdt Hoover’s favorite camera looked like a child’s toy — for its nothing other than Fujifilm Instax Mini 9.

He still remembers the day you ran into him, quite literally, at the college bookstore, sending his film canisters flying everywhere and your coffee straight on to his weathered flannel. You were babbling apologies as he turned redder, going on about how you must be so blind to not see the literal tower of the human being in your way, hoping to salvage your fumble by treating him to a drink at your favorite cafe on campus.

After an outfit change, he found himself in a booth telling you all about how he’s struggling with color negative film development. You didn’t listen like Reiner does, who always interrupted to joke about how Bertholdt should help him stage his nudes, or even like Annie, who he was pretty sure lets him go on because it’s the perfect form of white noise to her.

Instead, you sat with your head in one hand, nodding enthusiastically and probing him further. You were genuinely interested, someone who made his passion feel appreciated. And that’s what caused that one coffee date to turn into another, and then three months later, you’re in his dorm room presenting him a cream colored polaroid camera with a Cyndaquill charm attached.

“It’s so you can understand the only camera I own,” you said, pulling your own polaroid out of your bag with a smile.

It looked minuscule in his giant hands, the device rotating in his palms as he tried to figure out the settings. “What makes this one so different from the ones I have?” he asked.

“Because you can’t edit the pictures, silly. You’re always fixing the lighting and colors even on your film prints, this just captures everything in the moment. And you can’t reprint them, so each picture is a limited edition Bertholdt Hoover original. See, look!”

Bertholdt’s head shot up after he heard the flash that followed the end of the sentence. He may love being behind the camera, but he still needs some time to be comfortable being in front of it. He was tensing in anticipation as you both waited for the picture to develop, the white square fading to reveal the image of Bertholdt, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out the camera. He looked at ease, in his element.

It was the first candid of himself he ever liked.

“Aw, look at you,” you cooed as you slid the polaroid into your phone case. “Now I think that’s a moment of you worth saving, don’t you agree?”

A year later, he found himself bringing the Polaroid along with him on your dates. You had decided to celebrate your anniversary on Paradis Beach, laying out a red and white checkered cloth on the sand and lounging the day away. The snacks that were spread out on the charcuterie board dwindled as the sun began to dip into the waves; you and Bertholdt both focused on painting pictures of each other.

“And done!” you announced, turning your canvas around for your boyfriend to see. You had splotted it in blue and green, the black line art you drew of his face standing in a striking contrast. The canvas now hangs in the living room of your shared apartment, and you’d later argue that it was your Picasso inspired interpretation of your boyfriend to anyone who notices it at your dinner parties; but in reality, it looked like elongated Wirt from Over the Garden Wall.

“Why did you make me look like Jean?”

“It looks nothing like Jean, the nose is totally different! It’s not my fault you have the same head.”

“Please don’t tell him or show him that, he’ll rope me into his arguments with Eren,” he teased.

“Well, let’s see how well you did then, DaVinci.” You peered over his shoulder in search of his work. The watercolor rendition captured you perfectly — from to the flecks in your irises to the soft upturn of your lips when you smiled.

It looked like it could be one of his pictures. 

“I shouldn’t have agreed to do this with an art major,” you sigh. “Of course your painting would turn out more legitimate than mine.”

“Hey! I never said I didn't like it. And, I’m a Digital and Film Photography major, you know.”

“Tomato, tomah-to,” you stuck out your tongue.

Bertholdt broke out into a laugh as he looked at you, your brows furrowed in mock anger as you pouted back at him. As he saw you with your teal sundress fluttering in the wind, the flyaways of your hair turning golden under the setting sun, he realized that this vision of you was something he wanted to immortalize. And with a soft “look over here, dove” to beckon you gaze towards him, Bertholdt clicks on the shutter, a smile of his own growing behind the camera to match the one you’re beaming at him. He pulls out the film and waits for the picture to appear, and to his chagrin, the camera focused on the sun behind you, the film yielding your silhouette against the orange sky.

He frowned and turned the camera back around, searching for the light filtering settings.

“What are you looking for?” You moved to lay down next to him, your head falling back on his chest.

“The metering adjustment, it keeps focusing on the sun.”

“I don’t think a camera that was meant to be understood by 16 year olds would have anything that fancy,” you snorted, reaching out for the Polaroid to turn the dial to the image of the sun on the rim of the lens. “The solution is more simple than you think, o wise photography major. So smile! Let’s take a selfie.”

Now, Bertholdt finds himself chuckling as he pulls that selfie out of the box containing all the polaroids you had gathered in the three years you had been together. It had turned out horribly, catching only the top half of your face and his chin. It had taken you five tries to get both your heads into the frame, but he decides to hang up all of the pictures on the string in front of him instead of the sole perfect one.

He takes a step back to admire his handy work, the gazebo of the botanical garden he took you to on your first real date now fully surrounded with alternating garlands of your favorite flowers and photo donned fairy lights that were slowly coming to life with the growing twilight.

It was incredible how much that little camera had captured — the Camp Half-Blood halloween costumes, the weathervane like sleeping positions you found him with your cat, the pictures in front in every state sign you ever travelled to and the ones he caught of you cooking in the kitchen.

Your entire relationship filled the little white rectangles that hung from the wooden rafters, and the next step was in the little velvet box in his back pocket.

“So, Bertholdt,” Reiner calls out, “Which one of your fancy cameras am I using to catch the big moment in?”

Bertholdt bends down to rummage for the Polaroid in his camera bag, the cream shell now marred with a few scratches and the Pokemon charm now fading in color. He’s got Annie using the Nikon and Porco on his iPhone for a video, but he knows he can trust Reiner with the most important camera of all.

After all, this is a moment he wants to make sure you both have forever — unedited & irreplaceable.

thank you for reading!!

© all rights reserved JEANBEAUX 2021. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[tacticaldiary]

Charming

REQUEST:

Hii! Can i request where reader is Aizawa's child(adopted or not) and how they'll react when Midoriya/Shinsou and reader has a thing for eo skdjkasjdksd the idea sounds lame so its fine if u ignore it if u want 😄 Any Shinsou or Midoriya content is great for me skksdlks aLSO YOUR 'LEAVE, THEN' BECAME MY FAVORITE AFTER U POSTED IT FOLLOWED BY AKAASHI'S MISUNDERSTANDING, SHDJSGAH its obv how I like hurt/comfort huh? AKJSDD anyway i love your writing no cap! Also, thanks for reading this!

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

Hiya! Thank you! I chose to write about Shinso, just cause I legit have Shinso brainrot these days-

Pairing: Reader x Shinsou Hitoshi

Genre: Fluff...kinda?

She remembers the first time she met her boyfriend, nothing romantic or cheesy no, not at all. He was getting his ass handing to him by her adoptive father. What a catch, right?

Masterlist

Note: I apologise if the re-uploads are getting a lil annoying. I’m trying to figure out something with linking this specific fic, so just bear with me.

She’ll always remember the first time she met her boyfriend, not because it was overly ‘romantic’ or ‘coincidental’, no, not at all.

The first time she saw him, he was getting his ass handed to by her adoptive father. She stifles a laugh as he’s flipped onto the floor by Aizawa, groaning as the breath is knocked out of him. Her laugh doesn’t go unnoticed and both Aizawa and Shinso look up from sparring to see her leaning against the wall, arm crossed, one of her hands over her mouth.

Charming.

The moment their eyes meet, Y/N notes how strangely handsome he is. His wild hair and the bags under his eyes don’t put her off. She lets her eyes roam across him, noting that he's more than built to start his journey as a hero. Even bruised and sweating, Y/N can’t help but want to get to know this strange person.She doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s doing the same.

“You’re early, kid.” Aizawa breaks the silence, standing up and brushing himself down, before offering a hand to Shinsou, who doesn’t see it at first, still looking at Y/N. Seeing her amused smile, he finally notices the hand and Aizawa’s curious look. He clears his throat and pulls himself to his feet.

“I got let out early from class.” She says, smiling at him. Aizawa simply nods and tells her to wait to the side for a few minutes while he wraps up his lesson with Shinso. Y/N stands to the side watching Aizawa demonstrate a move with his binding cloth to the guy.

She knew that her father took someone under his wing, someone who was looking to transfer into the hero course, but this was the first time she had actually seen the guy in person. Hitoshi Shinsou, if she recalled correctly.

After a few minutes of observing, she notices that he glances her way every so often. They catch eyes a few times, but he always plays it off as looking somewhere else. It’s...kinda cute?

They eventually end, and Aizawa makes his way back to his daughter, Shinsou closely in tow.

“Ready to head home?”

She nods, much more interested in the other individual. “Shinsou, right?” She asks, tilting her head in question. She smiles when he nods, extending out a hand.

“Hitoshi Shinsou.”

“Aizawa Y/N.” She shakes his hand and introduces herself, grinning as she sees his eyes widen. He glances between the two others, raising an eyebrow.

“Aizawa? This is your daughter, sensei?” The man nods in confirmation.

That’s the moment Shinsou knows he’s fucked.

Requests Are Open And Welcome! Feel free to stop by and say hello!

(19/04/2021)

Authors Note: Kinda based on This Shinsou scenario I said I was gonna make into a fic

(I’m going to break something if the link doesn’t work after this repost-)

[catelyngrant]

I know we're all still swooning over the EO scenes from the crossover and, in true SVU spirit, it feels like the perfect time to inject some PAIN into the proceedings! The lovely scene with Elliot asking "how many?" with the little twinkle in his eye and then Olivia actually telling him about Ed (leaving out a key detail or two...) made me think about a fic that I started awhile ago and was already unlikely to finish but am officially classifying as "abandoned" now because we've moved into an era of canon where it just really wouldn't fit anymore. In any case, I figured I'd share the general idea for any other angst lovers out there...

It's post-Eddie Ashes. Things are tense all around - Elliot's stressed at home, with Eli and Bernie and things still not great with Liv; Olivia's tired and trying to run a unit that's understaffed and being micromanaged by an asshole Chief, and their relationship is still a fragile scene. One night they're at Olivia's apartment for some reason that I'd have come up with if I actually wrote the thing, and it starts out nicely - they're both trying, they both want to begin working through their baggage, but it's been a long day for them both and they're both on edge.

Elliot notices something - a photo, maybe - and it comes out that Olivia dated Tucker. He tries, probably, to not be an asshole about it, but he fails spectacularly. Liv at this point, she's mad and tired and hurting, and the gloves start to come off - like in the crossover, she starts in on "It was ten years, Elliot, he wasn't the only one!" but in this case she gets a little mean. She starts twisting the knife - she tells him about Cassidy, tells him that after he left she found men who loved her and took care of her, and they both know that this argument is a bad idea but it's been a long time coming and for Liv in particular it's the first real chance she's had to be angry at him, to express that anger, since he came back and he's making it easy for her right now, being an asshole and being jealous when he has no right to be. Maybe she makes a little dig about Kathy - nothing horrific but something about them playing happy family in Italy, maybe even something about the letter. 

And Elliot loses his temper, too. He's jealous and not hiding it but it's not cute, it's not funny, it's ugly and it hurts and he's furious, mostly at himself but also at Tucker (who he doesn't know is dead) and at Liv, because of all the people, Tucker and Cassidy? And he says something to that effect, and Liv just explodes - "They were here, Elliot, they were good men, they were here after you left and here after Lewis and -" "Who the hell is Lewis," Elliot snaps back, "another IAB asshole that kept your bed warm?"

And he doesn't know, he didn't mean to go straight for the jugular - it was a dig, a pointed edge, but when Liv goes white as a sheet and staggers he knows he missed the mark. He knows he crossed a line, a massive one, but he doesn't know what it was -

"What did you just say," Olivia rasps, the words barely tearing themselves from her throat. "What - what did you just say to me." It’s not even a question - it’s like she can’t breathe, like she can’t wrap her head around the words that just came out of his mouth, and he deflates immediately, starts trying to apologize.

"Liv -" he begins, not sure what he’s going to say, still not sure what’s even happening -  "Get out," she manages. Her whole body is shaking and he moves towards her, worried, sorry, so sorry, but she stumbles past him, holding her arm out to keep him as far away as she can. "Get out, get out of my house -"

He reaches for her again but she barely seems to notice, clinging to the wall as she makes it to the bathroom and slams the door closed. And Elliot's terrified, now - he's never seen her like this, he doesn't know what's happening, and he hears her throw up, maybe, or collapse to the ground, or start sobbing, and when he knocks on the door she either doesn't answer or keeps telling him to leave but like hell he's doing that, like hell he's leaving her alone like this -

So after that there were two endings I imagined. In one, he tells Liv through the door that he's not leaving her alone but asks her if there's anyone that he can call, and she doesn't answer so he ends up calling Fin, who loses his goddamn mind when Elliot recounts what happened. In that scenario Elliot does end up leaving and Fin or Amanda or someone takes the wheel and Elliot ends up learning about Lewis either from one of them or from looking it up immediately after leaving. In any case, it's awful and it takes a few days for Olivia to be ready to talk to him but they end up having the conversation and slowly start to move forward.

In the other scenario, he doesn't leave. He slumps down and sits on the other side of the door until she comes out, or maybe he even knocks the door down if he's worried enough - in any case, she's a mess. She's shaking and crying and having a full-on panic attack, and this time when he reaches for her she doesn't have the energy to fight him off - he collapses next to her on the floor and holds her while she sobs, and she's never been as close to hating him as she is right then but there's also the part of her that's wanted this - wanted him, holding her, comforting her - for so long that she can't bring herself to push him away. So she just cries - not just about Lewis, or about their fight, but everything, all of it spilling out of her, and even more because she knows that it's going to be even harder for them now, she knows that this is yet another thing that she'll have to find it in herself to forgive Elliot for, and she's so tired. She's so tired of him hurting her, and she's so mad at herself that despite it all he's still the only one who she wants to hold her when she's hurting like this. So she cries, and he probably does too, honestly, but she doesn't say anything and then eventually she pulls herself together and says again, more calmly this time - "You need to leave, Elliot. We can't - I can't talk about this right now. I need you to leave."

And it just about kills him, but she's okay now - well, not okay, but as okay as he can expect her to be after whatever the hell just happened - and she tells him, sounding as exhausted as he's ever heard her, "We'll talk later. Just - please, just go." So he does. 

(They do talk later, and he apologizes, and they start to work their shit out and it all ends up okay, but that would have been another fic entirely.)

ANYWAY. Have fun with that!!!