#first law of mad science

[bruciemilf]

Every time the batkids get into legal trouble (damaged property fighting a villain, entitled old ladies being mad they didn’t get saved first, Damian sueing a classmate for proprietary rights over an OC he drew in class, the ONLY person they want to be represented by is Harvey.

Sure, TEHNICALLY he can’t practice anymore, but this is Gotham, and the law system is made of tangled wires. If you pull the right one, you’re in the clear.

The hardest plaintiff is Jason, by far. Ironically enough, he has the simplest cases.

“Okay, so, HOLD ON— I have to TELL you to get out of the way when Bane throws an ENTIRE truck your way? If you can’t dodge death, it deserves to have you, period.”

“Lady, I’m not going to save your weird ass dog/frog hybrid science experiment , — who BIT me, by the way, — over an entire bank full of PEOPLE.”

“Oh im sorry I forgot to pay for the overpriced 12 dollar latte while RUNNING FROM WILD MANEATING PLANTS. “

Harvey, pouring a violent amount of vodka in his coffee: your honor, my client just needs a nap probably

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Shifting $677m from the banks to the people, every year, forever

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

"Switching costs" are one of the great underappreciated evils in our world: the more it costs you to change from one product or service to another, the worse the vendor, provider, or service you're using today can treat you without risking your business.

Businesses set out to keep switching costs as high as possible. Literally. Mark Zuckerberg's capos send him memos chortling about how Facebook's new photos feature will punish anyone who leaves for a rival service with the loss of all their family photos – meaning Zuck can torment those users for profit and they'll still stick around so long as the abuse is less bad than the loss of all their cherished memories:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

It's often hard to quantify switching costs. We can tell when they're high, say, if your landlord ties your internet service to your lease (splitting the profits with a shitty ISP that overcharges and underdelivers), the switching cost of getting a new internet provider is the cost of moving house. We can tell when they're low, too: you can switch from one podcatcher program to another just by exporting your list of subscriptions from the old one and importing it into the new one:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise

But sometimes, economists can get a rough idea of the dollar value of high switching costs. For example, a group of economists working for the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau calculated that the hassle of changing banks is costing Americans at least $677m per year (see page 526):

https://files.consumerfinance.gov/f/documents/cfpb_personal-financial-data-rights-final-rule_2024-10.pdf

The CFPB economists used a very conservative methodology, so the number is likely higher, but let's stick with that figure for now. The switching costs of changing banks – determining which bank has the best deal for you, then transfering over your account histories, cards, payees, and automated bill payments – are costing everyday Americans more than half a billion dollars, every year.

Now, the CFPB wasn't gathering this data just to make you mad. They wanted to do something about all this money – to find a way to lower switching costs, and, in so doing, transfer all that money from bank shareholders and executives to the American public.

And that's just what they did. A newly finalized Personal Financial Data Rights rule will allow you to authorize third parties – other banks, comparison shopping sites, brokers, anyone who offers you a better deal, or help you find one – to request your account data from your bank. Your bank will be required to provide that data.

I loved this rule when they first proposed it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism

And I like the final rule even better. They've really nailed this one, even down to the fine-grained details where interop wonks like me get very deep into the weeds. For example, a thorny problem with interop rules like this one is "who gets to decide how the interoperability works?" Where will the data-formats come from? How will we know they're fit for purpose?

This is a super-hard problem. If we put the monopolies whose power we're trying to undermine in charge of this, they can easily cheat by delivering data in uselessly obfuscated formats. For example, when I used California's privacy law to force Mailchimp to provide list of all the mailing lists I've been signed up for without my permission, they sent me thousands of folders containing more than 5,900 spreadsheets listing their internal serial numbers for the lists I'm on, with no way to find out what these lists are called or how to get off of them:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/22/degoogled/#kafka-as-a-service

So if we're not going to let the companies decide on data formats, who should be in charge of this? One possibility is to require the use of a standard, but again, which standard? We can ask a standards body to make a new standard, which they're often very good at, but not when the stakes are high like this. Standards bodies are very weak institutions that large companies are very good at capturing:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/30/weak-institutions/

Here's how the CFPB solved this: they listed out the characteristics of a good standards body, listed out the data types that the standard would have to encompass, and then told banks that so long as they used a standard from a good standards body that covered all the data-types, they'd be in the clear.

Once the rule is in effect, you'll be able to go to a comparison shopping site and authorize it to go to your bank for your transaction history, and then tell you which bank – out of all the banks in America – will pay you the most for your deposits and charge you the least for your debts. Then, after you open a new account, you can authorize the new bank to go back to your old bank and get all your data: payees, scheduled payments, payment history, all of it. Switching banks will be as easy as switching mobile phone carriers – just a few clicks and a few minutes' work to get your old number working on a phone with a new provider.

This will save Americans at least $677 million, every year. Which is to say, it will cost the banks at least $670 million every year.

Naturally, America's largest banks are suing to block the rule:

https://www.americanbanker.com/news/cfpbs-open-banking-rule-faces-suit-from-bank-policy-institute

Of course, the banks claim that they're only suing to protect you, and the $677m annual transfer from their investors to the public has nothing to do with it. The banks claim to be worried about bank-fraud, which is a real thing that we should be worried about. They say that an interoperability rule could make it easier for scammers to get at your data and even transfer your account to a sleazy fly-by-night operation without your consent. This is also true!

It is obviously true that a bad interop rule would be bad. But it doesn't follow that every interop rule is bad, or that it's impossible to make a good one. The CFPB has made a very good one.

For starters, you can't just authorize anyone to get your data. Eligible third parties have to meet stringent criteria and vetting. These third parties are only allowed to ask for the narrowest slice of your data needed to perform the task you've set for them. They aren't allowed to use that data for anything else, and as soon as they've finished, they must delete your data. You can also revoke their access to your data at any time, for any reason, with one click – none of this "call a customer service rep and wait on hold" nonsense.

What's more, if your bank has any doubts about a request for your data, they are empowered to (temporarily) refuse to provide it, until they confirm with you that everything is on the up-and-up.

I wrote about the lawsuit this week for @eff@mastodon.social's Deeplinks blog:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/10/no-matter-what-bank-says-its-your-money-your-data-and-your-choice

In that article, I point out the tedious, obvious ruses of securitywashing and privacywashing, where a company insists that its most abusive, exploitative, invasive conduct can't be challenged because that would expose their customers to security and privacy risks. This is such bullshit.

It's bullshit when printer companies say they can't let you use third party ink – for your own good:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/01/hp-ceo-blocking-third-party-ink-from-printers-fights-viruses/

It's bullshit when car companies say they can't let you use third party mechanics – for your own good:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

It's bullshit when Apple says they can't let you use third party app stores – for your own good:

https://www.eff.org/document/letter-bruce-schneier-senate-judiciary-regarding-app-store-security

It's bullshit when Facebook says you can't independently monitor the paid disinformation in your feed – for your own good:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#quis-custodiet-ipsos-zuck

And it's bullshit when the banks say you can't change to a bank that charges you less, and pays you more – for your own good.

CFPB boss Rohit Chopra is part of a cohort of Biden enforcers who've hit upon a devastatingly effective tactic for fighting corporate power: they read the law and found out what they're allowed to do, and then did it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/23/getting-stuff-done/#praxis

The CFPB was created in 2010 with the passage of the Consumer Financial Protection Act, which specifically empowers the CFPB to make this kind of data-sharing rule. Back when the CFPA was in Congress, the banks howled about this rule, whining that they were being forced to share their data with their competitors.

But your account data isn't your bank's data. It's your data. And the CFPB is gonna let you have it, and they're gonna save you and your fellow Americans at least $677m/year – forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/01/bankshot/#personal-financial-data-rights

[morporkian-cryptid]

Welcome to the wonderful world of Arsène Lupin Copyright Shenanigans

Have I ever told y’all about the absolute madness that is the legal issues around the Lupin franchise ? Probably. Can I find the post in question ? No. Am I going to tell you again ? You fucking bet !

The year is 1905, and detective stories are all the rage. Maurice Leblanc, a young writer, is commissioned by the magazine Je Sais Tout to write a short story on the same model as Sherlock Holmes. Maurice Leblanc says « Screw this detective shit », and creates the character of Arsène Lopin, gentleman thief.

No, this is not a typo.

Arsène Lopin, a municipal advisor in Paris, hears about it and contacts Leblanc. « You are not fucking writing a story about a thief who shares my name. » To which Leblanc replied, « Lopin ? No no, you misunderstand, this is Arsène Lupin, completely different person. »

And he gets away with it.

Leblanc writes a bunch more stories about Arsène Lupin, they get popular, and he decides he wants to write a crossover with the famous British detective, Sherlock Holmes. A crossover in which, of course, Lupin will win and Holmes will be humiliated.

Arthur Conan Doyle hears about it, and is not thrilled. He contacts Maurice Leblanc with a message along the lines of « You are not fucking writing a story where my Amazing-Original-Character-Do-Not-Steal gets bested by a thief. » To which Leblanc replies, « Sherlock Holmes? No no, you misunderstand, this is Herlock Sholmes, completely different person. »

And he gets away with it.

The years pass, more Lupin stories are written, they’re translated and exported outside of France, and wouldn’t you know it, Japan takes a strong liking to the « gentleman thief » archetype in general and to Arsène Lupin in particular.

The years is 1967, and mangaka Kazuhiko Kato, best known by his pen name Monkey Punch, is commissioned by the magazine Weekly Manga Action to create a manga for their first issue. He reads 15 of Leblanc’s stories, and creates Lupin the Third, a character who is the grandson of the famous gentleman thief. He does not bother asking the Leblanc Estate for permission, as Japan doesn’t give much of a crap about French copyright laws.

(For the record, Weekly Manga Action was the first manga magazine for an adult audience (outside of erotica), and Lupin III was published in its first issue, effectively making it one if not the very first adult manga in the history of manga.)

The Lupin III manga gets popular, is adapted into an anime, the anime gets popular, it gets translated into other languages and exported to Europe…

And then the Leblanc estate rears its head. «You are not making an anime about our character without paying us fucking royalties, » they say to Monkey Punch. To which Monkey Punch, channeling the spirit of the deceased Maurice Leblanc into his very soul, replies : « Lupin ? No no, you misunderstand, this is Rupan, completely different person. »

And he fucking gets away with it.

(Arsène Lupin became public domain in France in 2012. Before that, Lupin the Third took many different names in European releases, among which Rupan, Wolf, and in France, Edgar de la Cambriole (Edgar of Burglary).)

Additional tomfuckery :

The year is 1982, and science-fiction animated series are getting extremely popular. TMS decides to try and get a slice of the cake, and begins the development of Lupin VIII, a sci-fi spinoff about Lupin III’s descendant. The anime is being produced in France, and the Leblanc Estate once again rears its head. « Sure, you can make that anime, » they say, « but pay us fucking royalties. » TMS, as previously established, does not want to pay the Leblanc Estate diddly squat, and so they scrap half of the project, recycle the other half, and go « Lupin VIII ? No no, you misunderstand, this is Inspector Gadget, completely different person. »

The year is 1930, and famous Japanese writer Tarō Hirai writes The Golden Mask, a novel in which his detective character Kogoro Akechi goes up against none other than Arsène Lupin. Hirai’s pen name was Edgar Allan Poe- wait, wait, no, sorry, it’s Edogawa Ranpo, completely different person.

(Later, Gosho Aoyama names his character, Detective Conan Edogawa, after Arthur Conan Doyle and Edogawa Rampo (and the anime is distributed by TMS).)

(More than fifty years later, the Lupin III anime makes a tribute to Ranpo’s Gold Mask with the double episode The Imperial City Dreams of Thieves.)

The year is 2021, and Capcom is releasing the video game The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles, in which famous detective Sherlock Holmes plays a central role. Unfortunately for them, a few Sherlock Holmes stories are still under copyright, and the Conan Doyle Estate is about as stubborn and greedy as their French cousins. « Pay us fucking royalties, » they say.

In the English release of the game, Sherlock Holmes is renamed to, you guessed it...

...fucking Herlock Sholmes.

[backwzzds]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ grumpy daddies that softened up over time, supernovas

one piece men who didn’t want kids at first, but changed their minds the further they got into fatherhood.

TRAFALGAR LAW

okay you getting pregnant was nowhere near law’s 10 year book of plans. honestly, being in a relationship with someone wasnt either, but you rewrote his expectations the moment he met you.

but having a baby? that was pushing it.

law was always hesitant of starting a family of his own because the one person he did call his family was taken from him at a very young age. and with the world we lived in, the last thing he wanted to do was bring a child into this madness, especially as a pirate amongst the supernovas.

you were always nervous on how law would react to having a kid, especially at such a young age. i mean, you were 23 and he was 26–not really ideal ages to have kids. but the man was so pussy drunk, the darker side of him was willing for one night—just one night—to risk it all to shoot his load between your velvety walls. now you two were facing the consequences.

the first few months were hard. of course, law loved little lea with all his heart. he was never one to deny his little girl, but you were able to tell how new this all was to him. he couldn’t spend all night up studying his med books, instead he had to be in bed by nine sharp, because a certain trafalgar had their bed time at that time.

at this exact moment, law would be hunched over neck deep in some physiology book, scribbling sloppy doctor’s notes on yellow post its. but currently, he was on his side of your shared bed, bedtime story book folded over his eyes as little lea’s head rested snugly on her father’s chest. law’s tattooed fingers protectively held her small frame against his body, almost as if he was keeping her from anyone taking her.

you had just finished doing some spring cleaning when you came into the room. looking around, you noticed that there wasn’t a single surgical book in sight. lea got him so good, she didn’t even let him study before she begged her daddy to read her a bedtime story. and hardly ten minutes in, the same man was cuddling over the same thing he swore he wouldn’t be able to take care of.

RORONOA ZORO

okay we all know zoro is a klutz. the man truly did not mean to get you pregnant. as if he suddenly forgot how biology and science worked, the thought of you getting pregnant the moment he came inside you raw (six times btw) completely slipped his marimo mind.

literally everyone and their mother knew the man hated kids but was somehow one of the best babysitters? if you wanna count out nami and robin. it was no surprise that he’d be a great father once he actually warmed up to it.

so the moment that baby zina turned four, it still felt unreal to him that you two shared an entire human together. ironically, zina had all of zoro’s looks and your entire personality.

that included driving her daddy insane.

“daddy,” zina pulled the pocket of her father’s sweats. zoro grunted with his heavy sword in his mouth, training for the hundredth time that morning. “why is our hair green?”

zoro couldn’t helo but chuckle as he gave out, “not sure.”

not only that, but zina got away with a lot of things even you couldn’t when it came to zoro. you three were at a fair on some summer island, deciding to take zina out for the day. there she was on top of her father’s shoulders, continuously covering and uncovering them as part of a game. “peekaboo!” the little marimo giggled, and to your surprise, zoro actually played back.

usually, you would have expected zoro to get annoyed fairly quickly if it were any other kid. he thought the whole of them were burden’s that talked too much. but he made the little girl sitting atop his shoulders, and he knew half of her belonged to you. so the fact that there was a possibility she’d grow to annoy the shit out if him just as much as you did—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

EUSTASS KID

kid would be the grumpiest dad of it all. he just had a downright shitty pullout game (not that he’d even tried), so it wasn’t a surprise that he got you pregnant fr. he swore up and down he aint want a kid, but the moment baby kuina came out with his fire red hair and bold ass personality—suddenly he was america’s #1 dad.

like seriously, you had no idea after all at fuss you’d find him bathing kuina, feeding her, taking her on walks—everything. the man saw your child more than you and you wasn’t playing dat fr. i mean, as great as it was to get a break from kuina postpartum and kid did all the work, it still amazed you to see such instictive dad behaviors come from him.

like kuina wouldn’t stop crying and you didn’t know why? she’d babble out the words of dada and kid would come flying to her rescue, baby talking back to her.

“aw mama’s being a big scawy meanie?” he’d tease. “i know princess let’s stop crying before uncle kil’ gets the both of us, okay?” kuina wouldn’t even understand half of what her father was saying to her, but he was talking to her and that was all she needed before she’d be thrown in a fit of drooly giggles.

on top of that, but the two would spend hours in the workshop together. “babe don’t forget to take her out every other hour. i don’t want her inhaling any of the fumes for too long,” you’d remind kid as kuina would quietly watch him build something. her pacifier would be tucked tightly between her lips as she almost laid against the terrain of kid’s knees, admiring his handy work.

[innerfare]

Law Fluff // Angst Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Law angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Sees to your wound without a word, making sure it’s disinfected and bandaged and receives proper care until its healed. Places a soft, quiet kiss atop your head, doesn’t say a word. Makes a mental plan to avoid similar situations in the future. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Refuses to share his toothpaste with you and gets annoyed if you leave the cap off of yours. After you both brush and rinse, will wrap his arm around your waist and pull you in for a fresh, minty kiss. 

Flowers: 

Gravitates toward orchids, especially in darker shades of pink, purple, and blue; they feel a little moodier and less kitschy than the red roses Bepo tells him he’s supposed to buy to woo you (side note: imagine Law getting relationship advice from Bepo). One night folded an origami flower for you, and you liked it so much that he spent the rest of the night folding an entire bouquet, though he pretends it only took him five minutes. He doesn’t actually give the origami bouquet to you so much as he just sets it on your nightstand one day and mutters something about how the flowers won’t need water. He gets kind of annoyed if you make a big deal out of it. 

Type of Date: 

Museum date, full stop. Probably a science museum, but would happily do a fine art museum. If museums were open at night, it would definitely be a nighttime museum date, but he’ll settle for a weekday when nobody’s there. The two of you will lose track of time going from exhibit to exhibit discussing what’s on display. And Law is definitely the sort of guy to read up on the exhibits beforehand to impress you. Would also take you to a bookstore and buy you anything you want if you agree to sit with a coffee afterward.  

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

You don’t know what you were expecting- would it be sterile like an operating room? You’re surprised to see comic books and a few action figures. He has some records, too- a bit of rock, some low-key emo music- and to your complete and utter surprise, a candy wrapper on his nightstand. And then there’s the coin collection on his desk, tiny pieces of metal he picked up on his many travels. You’re careful not to have a big reaction to his personality showing through for once. 

“I like your action figures.” 

“They’re kind of childish, but-” 

You cut him off before he can dismiss his own interests as dumb. “No, they’re not. They’re cool.” 

Fighting and Making Up: 

His emotional unavailability combined with his protective streak is a source of contention between the two of you. He wants you to be free, but sometimes, he finds himself in a dark place where he just wants to lock you in a tower. But what makes it so vexing is that he won’t even talk to you about it, just shuts you out of plans and operations because he can’t bear the thought of losing you or you getting hurt. Also has times when he won’t let you out of his sight but won’t admit that’s what he’s doing, which makes it so much more annoying. He’ll get mad at you if you do something without telling him, especially if it could be dangerous, which often leads you to argue that he's not exactly known for his communication skills. The two of you usually make up after you’ve been giving him the silent treatment for a few days and he crawls into bed beside you. The darkness makes him feel safe enough to press some warm kisses into your hand and then mutter an apology into your neck. Other times, he’ll write a short note and slip it into one of your books because he’s much better at writing than talking. And if it’s on you to do the making up, cooking for him is a good place to start. 

Paradise 1: 

Climbing out of bed before dawn because neither of you can sleep, having a cup of coffee, and walking hand in hand down the beach, stopping to bend down and pick up rare seashells to add to the collection on the bookshelf in your bedroom, not talking much at all but simply admiring your shared bounty in the pale dawn light as the sun creeps over the horizon.   

Paradise 2: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Nightmares: 

Bang! He never sees the nightmare, but he always hears the gunshot. He wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering beneath his covers, the taste of metal lingering in his mouth and the gunshot still echoing in his ears. He’s awake, but he’s back in that treasure chest, and this time, you’re the one laying dead in the snow. Alternatively, you’re in a hospital bed, writing in pain, screaming in agony, calling out his name, pleading with him to save you, and he’s in sea prism stone handcuffs, forced to watch you succumb to an illness only he can save you from. Again, he wakes up in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs, trapping him and making him feel like he’s still in that nightmare, completely and utterly useless. He has to climb out of bed and walk it off, might even train a bit with his sword to regain a sense of control. 

Wearing His Hat: He works so hard- it’s one of the things you love about him. You typically try not to disturb him while he’s in the middle of a book, but every once in a while, you can see that he’s not lost in the book so much as he is holding it in his hands to keep the people around him at a distance, allowing him to think a little too much about what’s stressing him out. 

You can tell by the tension in his neck and shoulders, the way his eyes don’t really focus on the pages but rather look right through them. 

“Put the book down. It’s time for dinner.” Coming up behind him, you give his shoulders a squeeze before sitting on his desk, kicking your feet a little bit. 

“Not hungry.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

He cast you an annoyed look but said nothing else. 

Knowing he wouldn’t budge unless you jumpstarted him, you snatched his hat off his head and placed it atop yours. 

“Y/n-ah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me my hat back.” 

“If you want it so bad,” you told him with a small smile. “Put the book down and come and get it from me.” With that, you hopped off his desk and slipped out of the office. 

Law glanced down at his book. He didn’t give it another thought, just tossed it aside and climbed out of his chair to get that hat off your head, and possibly another garment or two. 

I Love You: 

Law is pretty bad with words, and, for lack of a better term, he sort of lacks a bedside manner. Needless to say, this carries over into other aspects of his life, including his love life (or lack thereof; Law has little to no experience in this arena). One afternoon, though, the two of you are fighting because you want to accompany Law somewhere and he insists it’s too dangerous despite all of your qualifications and skills as a fighter. You keep pressing and pressing, demanding to know why he won’t let you go when you are perfectly capable, until finally he blurts it out. “I love you! Alright? And I won’t lose you.” You aren’t even in any sort of relationship at that point, the two of you just sort of stewing in unresolved tension. His irate confession is the tipping point, and you become an item after that. When you hear it from him after that, it’s always in private, usually in the late hours of the night when he slips into bed and buries his face in your neck. Other times, it’s when you two pass each other in the hallway aboard the Polar Tang and he catches your hand in his, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles, muttering the words, and moving along quickly for fear someone might see despite the entire crew knowing about your relationship. 

You’re Jealous: 

Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[ckret2]

This is the first time I see someone saying that Filbrick kicked out Stan as primarily a protective measure. To me, honestly, he sees his children as investing to make money and found the perfect excuse to throw away the son he never wanted on the streets when a convenient excuse appeared. After all, he already had a bag full of clothes when he throwed Stan in the streets.

It's a cartoon episode that had 22 minute to pack in the entirety of Ford & Stan's backstory. He flung a duffel bag at Stan as a way to tell the viewers "he's serious about kicking Stan out" and we didn't see him pack it because that would've cost 30 seconds to animate a boring scene that's unnecessary to the flow of the story, and where else in the episode would that 30 seconds have come from?

The show takes tons of visual & narrative shortcuts to tell its story. We don't question how a digital clock appears on Stan's desk between one shot and the next in Boss Mabel. We don't question where Soos's Burrito Bites went before and after traveling into Stan's mind in Dreamscaperers. We don't question where the remains of Quentin Trembley's ripped pants vanish to in the crate after he tosses them aside. The only reason we question the duffel bag is because there's a way to weave it into the narrative to make a bad character look even worse; but I think it ignores the spirit and intent of the scene to treat that, and that alone, like it's indicative of Filbrick's character rather than indicative of the restraints of the cartoon medium.

I don't think he saw his kids as investments. I think, prior to discovering Ford could be worth a fortune, he saw his kids as his responsibility. It was his duty to get them to adulthood and make them into proper men. What we know about their upbringing is:

When he thought they were wusses, he sent them to boxing to toughen them up.

When he thinks Stan stole a gold chain from the pawn shop, he also berates him for stealing from other people, starting a crab-fighting ring, and "pickpocketing and monkeyshining." He's opposed to Stan committing illegal or dishonest acts even if they're profitable.

And when he kicks Stan out, yeah, he says Ford "was gonna be our ticket out of this dump," but he also says "All you ever do is lie and cheat, and ride on your brother's coattails."

Before Ford is revealed to be a genius, we have no evidence that Filbrick saw them as future moneymakers. And in fact, given how the show emphasizes how hard he is to impress and how newly impressed he is at Ford's genius, it seems like he DIDN'T previously see any such potential in his kids. This was a new development. Before that, we only know of two things he wanted out of his kids:

For them to be tough enough to protect themselves

For them to be honest, law-abiding, and hard-working

His dreams of making money off one of his kids lasted a few days tops—high school science fairs don't exactly last long. If he was hotheaded enough to kick out one of his kids for dashing some pie-in-the-sky dream that was only a few days old, then either they woulda been kicked out long before then, or they woulda almost been kicked out enough times that that would be their dominant impression of their dad that they'd report 40 years later, not "hard to impress." Yeah, he was mad he could've made a fortune and then didn't, but that alone wasn't the main motivation behind disowning Stan. He was taking out years of frustration with Stan all in one moment.

"All you ever do is lie and cheat" "This time you cost our family potential millions!"

You've been a bad kid and a troublemaker for a long time; this time, your behavior has impacted someone other than yourself—it's harmed your brother and your family—and I won't let you do it again.

(And this is pure headcanon/conjecture, so I'm keeping it as an aside—but I think there's something to his relationship with Caryn in all this. We know from how he treats Stan's lying that Filbrick highly values honesty. We know that Caryn is a pathological liar—it's one of the only things we know about her. We know from out-of-show interviews that Stan's "—the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart—" is him repeating something his father said. We know Filbrick sees their current living situation as a "dump," but lacks the financial means to get out of it. We know now the baby WAS intended to be Shermie, which makes a nearly 18 year gap before the Pines decided to have another kid. I think the twins were an accident, that Filbrick married Caryn out of a sense of duty to his sons and their mother, that he does love his family but still feels trapped; I think he hates that Caryn is such a liar, that it would have been a dealbreaker if there weren't kids involved, and that now he doesn't feel like there's much he can do about it because that's his wife; and I think that's a major motivating factor in his demanding honesty out of his sons—because he doesn't want them to turn out like their mother.)

To be clear—I don't think Filbrick is a good father. But in interpreting him as a bad father, I want to interpret him as the bad father he ACTUALLY IS, not make up some new, different bad father and paste it on top of his characterization. Sometimes fandom has a tendency to take a bad parent and stick entirely new bad parent traits on top of them, in a way that makes it seem like some fans think "well, if they're a bad parent, they MUST do THESE THINGS too, because ALL bad parents do that (and therefore, if they're not doing these things, they must not really be a bad parent)."

And at times I think it's important to hold the line. Based on what we know of him, Filbrick is bad enough to be a Bad Father even if he doesn't do XYZ that fandom assumes all bad fathers must do. Filbrick is bad enough to be a Bad Father even if he didn't see his kids as a way to make money.

I think he raised his boys the way he did because he thought that was the best thing for their future happiness—and he was wrong, and his ideas about manhood are outdated and toxic, and he was a bad father.

I think he saw them as his responsibility rather than as profit machines, and that he cared about their well-being—and his decision to express his caring through emotionally distant tough love was harmful and neglectful, and when he got angry he was verbally abusive, and he was a bad father.

I think he was devastated at the loss of potential millions not because his primary motive as a person is greed, but because his primary motive is being a good caretaker for his family, and his family was in a tough financial spot and that kind of money would turn all their lives around—and even though pinning his financial hopes on his son was a recent development, it was still an awful position to put his kid in, and he never should have done it, and he was a bad father.

I think he cared about his family MORE THAN their finances—but he still prioritized their finances too much, and in a moment of anger prioritized their finances more than one of his own sons, and he was a bad father.

I think kicking Stan out wasn't a consequence of thwarted greed, but of years of anger at Stan's delinquency, and that the issue wasn't the lost money but rather the fact that he thinks Stan deliberately harmed his brother for selfish reasons—and it was still a cruel thing to do and the man seriously needed some anger management classes, and he was a bad father.

He's a bad father even if his intentions are good. He's a bad father even if he cared about his sons. And that's why I'm insistent on maintaining his characterization that way—because it's worth remembering that a parent with good, caring intentions can still be bad, and their intentions don't excuse their actions.

[gh0stbeeee]

Separate Bight post ;P

Bill manages to get one up on Light and now he has partial possession of Light's body if he wants. He saw Misa use mascara once and the first thing Bight did was put it on. Of course, Light fought him most of the way. Bill doesn't like possessing Light when he isn't willing because Light is stubborn and will make the experience utterly miserable.

But when they can agree? A Diva.

Bight is the drama, some androgynous flair, and absolutely psychotic. Will kill you for a chip.

Everyone around Light is very concerned.

For more of the AU:

I imagine L gets himself involved when strange anomalies and what looks like gruesome occult rituals begin popping up in Japan.

Bill needs to begin getting his power back to escape the Theraprism after all. Once he gets enough strength to break out, he huddles down in Light’s mindscape.

The Axolotl let's the Pines know and— yeah Ford gets started on a new portal (Death Note is in a different dimension.) The four of them are ready to squish him out for good.

Bill has to teach Light the most insane math and science ever and each session leads to them trying to strangle eachother in the mindscape.

Light is still not a murderer yet, so his descent into madness happens slower as he's exposed to more and more Bill and power.

There's a whole scene where Light tries to justify himself as a good person and Bill just laughs at him and tells him he should see some adjacent timeliness because oh boy!

Light becomes like a warlock? Bill teaches him some basic magic and rituals and you can imagine Light is thrilled. Bill gets a little nervous at how earnestly Light soaks it up.

They balance eachother weirdly well as villains? Bill is chaotic evil and Light is more lawful/neutral evil. Bill helps Light be less suffocated under his and societies expectations and rules, is the evil voice on his shoulder like "aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you wanna go batshit?" And Light is able to poke holes in Bill's shitty mental health, which both helps and makes him worse. Because he doesn't want the world totally destroyed, after all. He'll play undercover therapist if he has to.

They enjoy talking. Light reminds Bill of Ford in the way he is insatiable for knowledge, and he missed talking with someone that can ask good questions. Light has never been able to be so confused and blindsided by a being, so he really enjoys the novelty and stimulation.

Getting a place to actually begin building a portal is insanely hard, but Bill knows some old bunkers in the mountains.

They are so bitchy, toxic, and argumentative, but they love the catharsis of not having to hide their true selves.

Bill may or may not get jealous when L starts poking his nose in for Light's attention. Similarly, Light feels challenged by Ford for the title of The Specialist Human lol

Uh that's it for now.

[kiddbegins]

College Days - A. H.

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader Word count: 10.7k Summary: when you met Aaron back in college, he was not the serious bureaucrat he is in modern days. also kinda sunshine x grumpy but not in the expected way :) A/n: this was going to be one whole thing but... I think i'm going to do two parts so... enjoy !

You didn’t go to college to mess around. You were there to get your points. Get your degree. Get the job of your dreams. Well… your family's dreams but that was besides the point. 

Not a day went by where your family wasn’t talking about you becoming a lawyer. It became such a usual conversation topic you nearly forgot it wasn’t your idea. 

But you pretended it was. Besides, going down the coast for your law degree couldn’t be that horrible. George Washington University was far enough from family that you wouldn’t feel pressured into doing anything you didn’t truly want. 

Which included the fact your parents wanted you to live on campus. Which you wouldn’t mind if you didn’t see that another first year was looking for a roommate about five minutes off grounds. 

All your life you’d shared a room with your siblings. Literally from the day they were born up until graduation. Your sister and you shared a room, sometimes forced to share with your brother. So of course you leaped at a chance for your own space, own area. 

And your now roommate, Louise Davis, was just the entry you needed. She was a biology major, you were there for political science and a minor for criminal justice. 

A good duo. 

There were rarely any classes together. You planned to take the necessary art class together though, a chance to have some time together where you’re not just mutually studying. 

And you’d now been roommates for two, going on three years. Like sisters practically. Told each other everything, and really… everything. You knew WAY too much about her love and sex life with her boyfriend, Jared. 

They’d been a whole ‘will they/won't they’ since freshman year but apparently sometimes over the summer he asked her out and they’d been together since. 

Which was swell and all but you were… not a fan of his roommate. Aaron Hotchner. You were there for the same major but he was always acting like he had all the time in the world for everything. 

You weren’t entirely sure you saw a time where he wasn’t grinning like a goof or laughing at something either he or Jared had said. 

In classes you shared, sure, he took notes. But at the same time he was drawing stupid little figures into the margins of his lined paper. 

Not that you took notice of them that much. Just those days he sat close enough that you caught a glimpse. You hated those days. 

The way he seemed to care less and less made you so… mad? Like he shouldn’t even be in these classes. This school even. Why you cared about his studies or lack thereof was completely questionable to you. 

But regardless, the nights where Louise begged you to go out with her and Jared were hard. You wanted to study, she told you there was still two weeks until the paper was due and practically dragged you out of the apartment. 

And each time it of course wasn’t just you two. Nope. Aaron was there. And sure, you should have been less stiff. Been able to let go, drink a few drinks, dance even. But all you could think of was that you weren’t home studying. 

Which was apparently noticeable by everyone around you. “Seriously, y/n, you need to take a break. I don’t think I have ever seen you just… be.” Louise had a large smile on her face, cheeks tinted red from the warmth and alcohol in her system. And her words were lighthearted. 

She wanted you to have a good time. To not be bound down because of your studies. Louise knew you were only this hard on yourself because you were the oldest of three, an oldest daughter at that and you knew you had to succeed. 

She knew. 

But she also knew that you needed to breathe. Find a way to be yourself in ways you wouldn’t let yourself. Which was evident with the shake of your head, “Lou, really, it’s bad enough I’m out right now instead of starting my essay for Korofsky’s class. The last thing I need is to get distracted.”

He was your harshest teacher and you were constantly terrified he’d write off your work and down play what you got. 

It wouldn’t surprise you. He always half offed the girls grades in class. How the hell did Aaron fucking Hotchner get a near perfect score on his probably half assed paper but you got a near ten points less?

You slept a total of five hours in the three nights it took you to write that. But he got a better score. Maybe that’s what ticked you off about the boy. 

He didn’t try. And apparently didn’t have to try like you did. And it got right up under your skin. Especially now, you needed to be home, writing and you knew that’s where you’d rather be. 

But he was out in the middle of the dance floor, probably three beers deep with Jared who was half dancing, half waiting for his girlfriend to join him. 

“Oh come on y/n/n. It’s one night.”

“A lot of stuff happens in one night. Seriously, you go dance. I’m good right here.” You said glancing around for any chance you could get to run off. Any chance. 

There didn’t seem to be one for a while after Louise ran off, her eyes going over to you too much to make a smooth getaway. 

And that dwindled when the Bain of your existence came up next to you, ���why aren’t you out there?” Aaron questioned, out of breath with bright red cheeks. He leaned on the table, hoping it would give enough leverage that he could catch his breath. 

You gave him the cold shoulder, not responding. Not unusual. He noted the way you ignored his existence quickly. Did he have any idea why you hated him? Nope. Not a clue. But he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him want to bother you more. 

He liked annoying you, hoping at some point you’d crack and decide that he wasn’t a horrible person. Because he wasn’t. He was just following his fathers footsteps. Which you didn’t know but that didn’t matter to either of you. 

“Oh come on, you’re gonna ignore me now too? This isn’t karofsky’s class where I’m asking for your notes.” He sighed, looking over at you, giving you an expectant smile when you looked back. 

Slightly you sighed, sipping the virgin Shirley temple you had in front of you, “I don’t want to be out there.” You gave in a monotone voice. Clearly wanting both him to go away and not talk to you. 

Ever. 

“Why not? They have some pretty good music-“

“I just don’t.” Your voice came out snappier than intended but the constant harassment of why you didn’t want to be out was just added to the annoyance of said instance. 

Somehow Aaron seemed to understand that, nodding, “Alright. If you want help sneaking out, I can help.” His offer genuinely surprised you. 

You looked him over, he was a college boy so you felt like you should be weary, but he was also friends with Jared who was nice enough for you to trust who he kept company with. 

Even with the slight hesitation you nodded, “Would you?” He nodded instantly. Unbeknownst to you he was all for secrets and assisting in them. 

“Course, come on. I’ll tell them you felt sick, walked you home.” He held his arm out to you which you took, shockingly, before walking out with him. 

Whether Louise and/or Jared noticed didn’t even matter, you seemed perfectly okay walking out of the small bar with the kid you swore up and down you hated and it wasn’t that horrible. 

That’s when things shifted. You had formed some sort of alliance with him. He acted like he wanted nothing to do with you so Jared would have a reason to tell Louise not to invite you out more. Which she hated and did anyway but when you said the same thing back to her she bit her cheek and dropped it. 

It was like a magical form of detestment. Except now you wanted to be around him. You didn’t put those thoughts over your work. Never ever. But when you went to class you didn’t mind if you ‘had’ to sit next to him. 

He didn’t seem to mind either. Especially not when you were the quiet one that had all your note taking stuff ready in front of you before class started and he got to just go off about some stupid shit Jared did that morning. 

A lot of the time you wanted to tell him to shut up, but truthfully you did happen to half smile at his words sometimes. And it was like he was chasing that. Like he wanted to see it. 

And maybe he did. 

But he’d never admit that. Not even on his death bed. Because he was nearly sure you were still indifferent to him. Which you weren’t. 

Lots of miscommunication and misunderstanding going on but neither of you were brave enough to confront it and set things straight. 

It wasn’t like you had given up on school, that was still your focus and 9/10 you were truly nose deep in your work or a text book for whatever class it was that kept you away from everyone. 

Near the end of the year it was worse. The last couple of months were hell. Your eyes burned more easily. Words blurred together on the paper and the library was practically your first home. Not even second. First. 

You’d leave there later than anyone, which was admittedly creepy (you were convinced it was haunted), but you still did it anyway. Getting there after your last class of the day and just pouring every remaining brain cell into the papers and homework that were due. 

It was tiring. Exhausting. The amount of times your hand cramped up from the fast paced cursive you wrote out couldn’t be counted on your fingers and your knee bounced with every second you had to reread a line. 

Because that didn’t say that did it? Oh it did… no it didn’t. 

You really couldn’t make out this last chapter for the semester, none of the words making any goddamn sense and it was making you so frustrated you wanted to cry. 

There was a throbbing in your temple that was working its way across your forehead and it really felt like your brain was going to explode. Could that happen? Who cares, that’s what it felt like. 

Honestly, your presence at the library was very noticed. If not by the librarians then the other students that also frequented. Can you guess who one of those students would be?

Aaron. He noticed because everyday he’d sit at least an hour to catch up on notes he’d missed in class thanks to whoever was kind enough to give him the in between stuff and each time he managed to find you. 

It helped that you had a designated spot. Honorary of course. You liked being in the corner, against the far wall. Sure you used one of the bigger tables but it was never clear. Always covered with something. A text book. Notebooks. Loose papers. Everything or a mix of it. 

Regardless it made it rather easy to spot you. The highlighter colored jacket you wore quite often brought his eyes over to you easily, plenty of times. 

A part of him thought he should stay where he was at but he just couldn’t ignore you. “Do you ever go home?” He asked as he sat across from you. 

No wait for an invitation, just… sat. You looked up at him without lifting your head. 

“Do you ever study?” Your voice tight. “Yes, now leave me alone.” You sighed, stressed enough as is, that you couldn’t focus on the words on the paper. Of course he didn’t listen, because why would he?

Instead he just stayed across, crossing his arms on the table and looking over at what exactly you were reading. “What class is that for?” He tried to question, a groan of annoyance leaving your mouth. 

“Do you know what leave me alone means?” You asked, finally looking at him. He scrunched his nose up, his eye doing the same as he hummed. 

“Mmm, not entirely. Come on, you never take a break… that’s gotta get tiring,” He continued, eyes on you fully.

It slightly burned that he was just staring, trying to ignore the way it made you slightly self conscious. “I don’t want to take a break. Can you just-“

“Leave you alone, yeah yeah, heard that before.” He said, “How about instead of interrogating you, I ask how your studying is going?” He shifted, you biting your cheek. 

“Admittedly not great.” You confessed for some reason, subconsciously craving some sort of buffer before returning to work as you sighed, “I’m trying to focus and it isn’t happening. You’re really not helping either.”

Aaron smiled, “Well if it already wasn’t going great then how much worse would I be making it?” He offered with a chuckle, tilting his head. 

You wanted to argue his words but, he sadly had somewhat of a point. “Oh shut up. I’m serious.” You ended up spilling how and why you had truthfully hit a block that was practically killing you. 

“Would it help if someone read it to you? Take notes from that?” He asked and for a second you thought it was a stupid question. But honestly, it could help. 

You shrugged, “Maybe? But it’s not like there’s an audio version of this just laying around.” You muttered, trying to focus on again as Aaron laughed lightly. 

“Well I was going to offer to read it myself but you seem to be very well off on your own so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait.” You cut him off, grabbing his hand as he went to stand and leave. “It’s worth a try. I really need to go over this tonight.” You felt crazy asking, even crazier for the fact that you’re hand stayed where it was the entirety of the time you spoke and as he sat back down in the chair. 

Quickly you pulled it back, turning the text book to him. “I’m here but honestly, I don’t know what the hell the first couple pages were so…”

You trailed off but he nodded, flipping to the opening page. “No worries, I’ll start from the beginning.” He replied casually, like he genuinely didn’t mind that he was here, helping. 

His voice was all you focused on as he read word for word, line by line through every last page. It truthfully was helping immensely that you could tell him to stop and he would, elaborating when needed. 

It was nice. 

But you’d never admit that. You kept the straight line of your lips on your face and no other emotion behind your eyes. You were in school for a serious degree that you were serious about getting. 

There was no need to mess around and get comfortable with a boy. At all. (But you wanted to.)

Instead of acting on anything you just let him read, unaware of how his eyes went over every once in a while, adoring the way your hair slipped over your shoulder. A chuckle leaving his lips when you told him to pause so you could tie back said hair. 

By the end you had a pretty solid few pages of notes and a satisfied Aaron. 

“Honestly, I think I understood more by reading that out loud than I ever have by reading it to myself.” He admitted, closing the book and slipping it over to your pile that was admittedly messy. 

You started putting away everything, glancing at him, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can make this a thing. I read, you write, I… copy the notes you take so I have a more digestible version?” He offered and you wanted to say no. 

Being with him as is was enough. But it helped a lot. And it helped him. God why did you care that it helped him too? You sighed, tightening the ponytail that had been made an hour ago, nodding. 

“How do you do it?” You asked, his look of confusion making you take in a breath. “You’re always laughing. Or goofing off. I hardly ever even see you take notes in class. This is a serious job we’re going into and you’re just… not. How do you do it?”

Aaron hesitated before shrugging faintly, “I don’t know, it’s just how I am I guess..” He trailed off, watching for your reaction and for an inevitable answer to his offer.

“Alright, we can do this again.” Your voice tight. Hiding… something behind it that he took note of, too tired to try and go into it today, well, tonight. It was technically tomorrow now since it was 1am. 

Aaron smiled, standing, “I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

“Your apartment is on the opposite side of campus. I’ll be fine.” You brushed off his statement, his dark brown eyes immediately darkening. 

“Y/n, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning and from here your apartment is on the opposite side of campus and then some. I’m walking you.” His words left no room for disagreement and truthfully you’d never seen him sound as serious as he just did. 

There was always some sort of goofiness or joke behind his tone. But this? You simply nodded at him, deciding to not argue and just go with it. He’d be the one walking back and forth. Not your problem. 

“Fine.” You muttered, finally zipping the backpack you brought with you up and lugging it onto your back. The weight of it did nothing but make your body ache but you had to carry it all so you learned to ignore it. 

Aaron glanced at you, “you want me to carry that?” His voice back to being lighthearted as he gestured to the bag. 

“I got it.” You said with a shake of your head, immediately feeling a bit guilty at how harsh that had come out so you glanced back at him, “thank you though.” A shift in your tone. 

Maybe you were starting to not hate him as much as you thought you did. 

—

“Y/n, are you listening to me?” Louise looked over at you, your nose in a book that was shockingly, not actually school related. It instead was just a pleasure read and you were trying to be content with that.

She wasn’t of course, “Oh come on. That’s not even for school and you’re still focused more on that than the fact I’m trying to plan you a birthday party?” Her weight was next to you in your bed in seconds, no sense of personal space known to her.

You sighed, tucking the small bookmark into the book and putting it on the bedside table. “Lou, I have told you like, a million and one times. I don’t want a birthday party. It’s not like it’s a milestone-”

“25 most definitely is a milestone. You have one year left at this school before you’re officially off, being whatever lawyer you’re going to be. This is my last year here. So therefore. Milestone. Now. I’m thinking we just do something at that bar we went to across town.” Louise rambled off, her legs crossing.

You pursed your lips, deciding to just give into her vision. “Okay, okay. So are you like, wanting ideas? Or?” You questioned, leaning back on your bed a bit to finally stretch some from where you were.

“Yes! Yes please. I know you like The Addams family and Halloween and it’s very out of season to do but would you want to do a costume party?” Her question made your eyebrows raise. How she even knew that you had no idea. 

It wasn’t like you were loud and proud about your likeness of the spooky season or the movie, aside from the fact you went and saw it three times when it came out. “That�� would actually be really, really, cool.” You admitted,

“And before you ask, you can be Morticia, I know you’ve been dying to be her for halloween.” You didn’t even have to think as you spoke, you did love the movie but if you were going to dress up as anything it was going to be something completely different than what she would be thinking.

Louise’s eyes widened, “Oh I love you so much, okay, I’m gonna start planning everything, don’t worry.” She leaned forward to hug you tightly, practically snapping your back before she hopped up, already having a thousand ideas in her mind about the party.

On the same hand, you were thinking over what to be. There were two main options, pull out the Dorothy from the wizard of Oz dress from a couple years ago or look for a Princess Leia outfit. Considering you were recently back into Star Wars the latter won and you were hoping to god you could find something to wear.

—

The weekend of the party got here quickly. Quicker than you’d like but truthfully it didn’t matter much since you had already gotten all the pieces necessary for your costume, now just sitting in front of your mirror attempting to perfect the hairstyle Leia wore with it.

Different than the usual side buns since you opted for the more conservative outfit from Return of the Jedi. Meaning a nice braided crown was all you needed and was majorly simple in comparison to keeping the two buns even or stopping them from drooping. All would’ve been roadblockers. 

“Are you ready?” Louise’s voice called out, poking her head through the door. “Oh god, you are such a dork.” A small smile on her face. She’d already seen both Jared and Aaron’s costumes and was ready to leave.

You stood, turning, “Yeah, yeah, but does it look okay?” You questioned, worryful that it would look weird on you. Louise had seen the movies but she wasn’t as into them as you were. She came in, stepping around you.

“Amazing, come on. The boys are waiting.” She pulled your arm, taking you from the room and the two boys were in the living room. 

Jared of course was matching with Louise, a nice suit that looked like Gomez’ and his hair slicked back. It was fitting. Very nice.

You froze as you looked at Aaron, “Oh you’re kidding..” You muttered, looking over his brown pants, beige long sleeved shirt and dark blue vest down to the leg harness and fake gun that mirrored yours in it. “Han Solo?”

“Princess Leia.” He copied your questionable tone as you sighed, your eyes closing momentarily before you nodded. “Nice.” He didn’t mind (accidentally) matching the birthday girl, but the other two took note of the way your face went pink.

People would think it was on purpose. Everyone around was aware of that and apparently you were the only one that cared. “I’m going to change, I still have my Dorothy costume-”

“No! Y/n/n we are already late for your own party. You look amazing, who cares if you match Aaron? It’s cute. Now let's go.” She didn’t even give you time to head back into your room before she gripped your wrist and pulled you out the door.

The boys were right behind you and you couldn’t deny that you were aware of Aaron’s eyes on you. Because of course they were. The costumes were making his confidence grow, aside from the same degree, he wasn’t sure you had anything in common really aside from the friends you both kept.

But now? You liked Star Wars, he loved Star Wars. You knew enough of the movies to pick the least popular outfit from the trilogy and it honestly made his heart race. Just the thought of bringing the conversation up. 

He never knew what to talk about around you. All he could muster was laws and some criminology he learned from the criminal justice class he took. By the time you made it to the bar together, he had about three different topics he wanted to go on and on about.

A small chorus of cheers, mainly from Louise’s friends rather than people you actually knew greeted you and the party was on. You allowed yourself two drinks. Two. That was it. Alcohol wise anyway.

“Hey,” Aaron’s voice should have caught you off guard but considering he was one of maybe four people you actually knew here, two of which were already off sucking face somewhere, it didn’t. And you could tell at some point he’d show up.

How could he not? “Hi.” You were used to being around him now, the coldness you usually put off to him had dwindled to just a slight breeze if anything at all. Especially since he’d become your official book reader.

A smile was already on his lips but it grew when he realized you were past the ‘hating his guts’ phase, “Nice costume,” He of course started, your eyes lifting to his. There was a layer of teasing to his words. Aaron was well aware that you didn’t like the implications that an accidental matching costume had. Especially not a stereotypical couples costume.

“Right.”

“Maybe we should have discussed what we were going to wear more, huh,” He chuckled, sipping the beer he’d already gotten. You couldn’t judge that choice, you already had a dirty shirley in front of you as well.

A small hint of a smile attempting to grace your face but you pushed it away as you nodded, “Yeah, maybe.” You muttered, picking a cherry from your drink and eating it. Absent-mindedly you put the stem in your mouth, twisting it with your tongue into a knot and putting it on the napkin in front of you.

Aaron gaped at you, his eyes glancing from your face down to the stem before he nodded, “Next time…” He trailed off before clearing his throat and forcing himself to walk away from you. That was unusual. He never was the first one to stop the conversation, he always bothered you until you told him to go away.

Your eyes traveled to the stem, eyes widening. Oh. That… that made sense. The whole bar trick thing. You hadn’t even thought about that when you did it but now your face was probably the color of said cherry and you wanted to hide in the corner.

Eventually though, the instance fell to the back of your mind as you let yourself have a good time. The two drink rule also fell off, now having had about four, only the first had actually been picked by you, the others from various guests that were there.

And being the people pleaser that you were, you drank them.

Louise had found her way back out to the dance floor, happy to be singing along to the songs on the speakers with you, everything was going perfect. The night was perfect. As it hit midnight, the actual day you were born, you decided to start sobering up, you didn’t want to be a mess the next morning, day off or not.

Your friend of course gave you a pout, her own self completely wasted, Jared less so, meaning he had a good eye on her as they moved throughout the place. Your only other friend was a girl from your art class, Kendall, that was as introverted as you were.

Granted her was from anxiety, yours was from needing to be good in school, which… could be labeled as anxiety as well but you refused to see it as that. “Hey, y/n! Happy birthday!” She immediately perked up at seeing you, in her Orange Blossom costume from strawberry shortcake.

“Hey! Thanks, Kendall, I love this costume. Did you hand stitch this?” Your eyes widening at the level of detail that was in the yellow and orange dress that hung on her body. Sheepishly she nodded, a tad bit embarrassed.

“I did..”

“It looks amazing, I’m truthfully jealous of your talent. I can barely fold my clothes correctly, nevermind customize them. This is insane.” You complimented thoroughly, once again taking a look at the stitched in white flowers.

Kendall grinned, “Thank you, I honestly made this a couple years ago for a party that never ended up happening so I’m very glad that you and Louise ended up making this a costume party.” She smiled, looking over your costume. “I hope I don’t sound silly but, what’s your costume meant to be?”

She’d never seen Star Wars so the question was expected. “Princess Leia, in one of the other movies.” Kendall made an ‘oh’ face as she nodded, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Wait, isn’t there someone here as Han Solo? Was that planned?” Kendall asked the cursed question, making you sigh heavily.

You shook your head, “No, that’s Lou’s boyfriend’s roommate, a pain in my ass but no, not planned. Just… small coincidence.” You slightly trailed off as you spoke. Kendall nodded, noting the way you shifted on your feet.

“Well, I’m probably going to head out. I have to be up early tomorrow. Have a good birthday y/n.” She smiled before leaving you standing there as a slow song came over the speakers. You of course moved out of everyone’s way as they split into couples, swaying to the song on the dancefloor.

Your heart practically dropped when you saw Aaron coming in your direction. Was he going to do what you thought he was going to do? God you hoped not… sort of. Part of you wanted him to, your thoughts about this man were everywhere and then some. 

All of you wanted to still dislike him but he’d weaseled in and now you had to fake your distaste to hide the fact you actually liked having him around. Liked that he was smiling as he came up to you and held his hand out.

You liked that he gently clasped his hand around yours when you took his and pulled you out with him. You liked all of it and you hated that you did. Hated that you were melting at the smell of his cologne and aftershave.

Absolutely hated that his hands just resting on your hips and your arms over his shoulders was making your head dizzy even though you were just barely swaying. The worst part? It didn’t feel awkward. Not for you at least.

No, it felt like you were supposed to be doing exactly what you were doing, no words needed. It was natural. Absentmindedly you slid your fingers through the hair just at the base of his neck, the hair framing his face a bit messy but still attractive. 

Did you just think he was attractive? God this was getting bad, even for you. To tear your eyes away from him you leaned your head against his shoulder, whether that made things better or worse was undetermined but you stayed like that the rest of the song, his thumb slightly rubbing circles into your hip as he stayed near you.

The song switched to a more upbeat one and you almost didn’t want to pull away. Almost. Instead you did, letting out a tight breath as you looked up at him. “That was nice.” You mumbled, still standing in front of him, trying to keep your eyes on his eyes, or hair, or anything that wasn’t his lips.

Something had festered in between the two of you in that moment and you felt suffocated. Like you should do something but you weren’t sure what. “It was.” He said in return, his tone the same as he tried to keep his eyes up too.

To solve both of your problems you turned heel and walked away, no goodbye just a rushed, near jog towards the door. You were panicking. Boys were not supposed to be on the table. This was one of the most important years of your life. You couldn’t waste it on a boy. Waste any time on something that wasn’t your work.

Aaron seemed to notice how tense you seemed, following behind you. If you had just disappeared into the crowd he would have left you. But running outside? Alone? He was protective, always had been. Even when you hated him.

So he jogged after you, “Y/n! Hey wait,” He caught up with you quickly. Curse his long legs and your short ones. “Please,” He gripped your elbow, stopping you in your place as you turned to him.

Correction, turned into him, your body hit his chest gently, his other hand lightly holding your side as he stabilized you, his eyes darting across yours. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice low, soft even as he spoke.

You felt like he could hear the sound of your heart picking up in your chest. You were. But you weren’t. You’d be better if you weren’t fighting every urge known to man to not lift up and kiss him. To not look at him with your y/e/c eyes until he kisses you.

And you sure as hell didn’t trust your voice right now. It could waver, stutter, multitudes of other things. So you just nodded, clearing your throat to let out a quiet, “Yeah.” In response that he didn’t believe. 

“People that are okay don’t run out of their own birthday parties.” He countered, your eyes falling shut in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. But you wished he was. You stepped back, his hands hesitantly sliding off of you, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

Aaron watched you, waiting for a sign that you were going to continue or that he should make some sort of first move. “I can’t do this.”

“What exactly is ‘this’?”

“This. I can see how you’re looking at me. I can feel how much I want to do what we’re both thinking but I can’t. Not now. I need- I need to focus on school. My parents are expecting me to graduate next year. I can’t… be distracted-”

Aaron had to comment, “So you are distracted by me.” He spoke, the glare you sent him making him shut up. “Why can’t you have both? Am I really that distracting to you?” This time his voice was more genuine.

As if he couldn’t fathom that you could really think about him more than you thought about your school work. Which you didn’t and wouldn’t but in the last three-ish months he was on your mind a tad bit more than you’d like to admit.

“Yes. Yes you are and god Aaron I hate it. I hate this, you, what I’m feeling. They… they weren’t supposed to happen. They can’t.” It was like you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Every part of you wanted to try, to see if you could do it.

The way he stepped forward, cupping your cheeks in both of his hands didn’t help. Neither did the way he lifted your face to meet his. “We can try.” He said softly, trying to get you on board as his thumb slid over the smooth skin of your cheek.

You slightly shook your head, his nodding in return as he leaned down, putting his forehead against yours. “If Han and Leia can have a thing amidst a war, we can in college.” He offered, a lopsided grin growing on his face.

“You know we’re not actually Han and Leia, right?” You said, an actual tone of a joke in your voice that Aaron was still getting used to hearing from you. He nodded, of course he knew. But he also knew that he wanted to kiss you anyway.

So he did. Slowly he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. Because at least if you shoved him off and decided you never wanted to see him again, at least he’d know what it felt like. What you felt like. Except that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

You immediately relaxed into his touch, your hands coming up to rest over his as your lips moved with one another's. It was like a ball of energy was forming between you that was stealing every bit of space left. 

His chest pressed against yours, his hands still on your face as your hands slid up his arms and over his shoulders. 

You stepped back with him, leaning against the brick wall of whatever building was behind you, arms locking over his shoulders. If you’d been at one or the other’s place, you were sure it would have gone further but since you were practically ten feet from a bar of all your friends, you pulled back, eyes darting across his face.

“We can’t.” You forced out, knowing it was tearing you apart to say that, knowing the way his shoulders and hands fell that you’d just tore him apart. And you hated it, but it had to be done. You couldn’t do this.

You wouldn’t.

—

Summer was supposed to be downtime. Your family loved going out to Newport and being out on the beach everyday. out on the beach everyday. Swimming. All that cool New England fun. 

You were never the type. You hated the ocean. Ironic considering the fact that Rhode Island is the ocean state but you just never had fun. 

Sand got into every small crevice of your body, the waves literally tried to drown you. Not to mention the way no matter how much sunscreen you put on, your cheeks and shoulders burnt. 

It wasn’t fun. 

But you went for your siblings. Because they liked it and you liked that they did. Your parents wouldn’t go into the water with them. Half the time they wouldn’t even acknowledge that the three of you existed. 

So you took that spot. Watching your younger sister (now 21) do her backflips while your brother (now 19) held his breath until he couldn’t. It was your own type of fun. 

Fun because you were with your family, not fun because you were at the beach. 

Your favorite part wasn’t being out. It was the aftermath. After you showered and ate and were just sitting in your living room with whatever movie was picked that day on the VCR. 

Your sister chose Casablanca and you didn’t put up any argument, knowing you’d be passed out and unconscious not even twenty minutes into the film.

Which is exactly what happened. You tucked yourself into the corner of the couch and were passed out before the clock even hit 10. There was always a sense of calm and comfort when it was the three of you.

Something that you rarely ever got when you were away. It made you kind of guilty that sometimes you thought of not coming back. Of staying down in DC and focusing on yourself rather than the lingering words and expectations of your parents.

But you couldn’t do that to them. Leave them with the lingering and watchful eyes of your mom and dad. It wouldn’t be fair. Not when you were walking in your parent’s dreams so they didn’t have to. So your sister could go off and be an author. So your brother could become a mechanic. So they didn’t have to bear the weight.

So you visited on holidays, on vacations, birthdays if you could. All of it, so your parents would have something, someone to be so overly proud of that they didn’t have to force their views anywhere else.

They had it all right there.

Even if the drive back down to the campus was 50% tears, it was worth it. Everything you did for them was worth it.

The three and a half months off of school had distracted you from everything of the last months on campus. From Aaron in general but also the way he’d kissed you. Nevermind the fact that the second you walked away from him you wanted to go back and kiss him again.

But no. This was your last year. You were focused. Or at least you planned to be. And it went well. Louise still lived in the apartment you two shared, even if she wasn’t in school anymore but she worked… a lot so she was never there. Which meant the place was yours to study and hermit in.

It made hitting the books way easier, and the fact that so far you hadn’t even caught a glimpse of Aaron Hotchner was another sign that maybe this year was going to be better. Way better. No seriously, the first four months of being back were perfect, you got near perfect scores and grades, no distractions, nothing.

Until you did see him. And everything came back. Seeing him walking across campus made you nearly drop the book in your hands. It didn’t help that your eyes followed his arm down to his hand that was clasped into that of another girl.

It shouldn’t bother you. There was nothing there. You made sure of that. That was your doing so you couldn’t be mad. Or jealous. Or anything. So you went the other way, as always avoiding any problems you might possibly end up having.

Unbeknownst to you, he saw you too, instantly feeling guilt build in his stomach at the feeling of the red head’s hand in his when he didn’t want it to be her. He wanted it to be you. But he respected you too much to push you.

Aaron was aware that he was your last priority and that he was going to have to get over it and step back. Nothing but respect for you. He also decided that he would try and stick to his own guns. 

Your words last year had stuck with him. He was passing sure but he wanted to do better. To be better so he did what you would do. Locked in, focused, but he of course wouldn’t go without talking to girls.

He couldn’t do that, to the girl he walked with that day, whose name had slipped his mind the second he saw you was his emotional distraction. Which should be good for the both of you. Hopefully.

—

It was late. Like, later than late and you couldn’t sleep. Whether it was stress. It being a Friday night meaning you were alone or what. You could not fall asleep. So you got up, pulled shoes and a sweater on before heading out.

There was practically nobody around, most students either in for the night, or downtown getting sloshed. Louise and Jared were the latter, probably with Aaron. You sighed, of course there would be a way for him to come up in your mind. And like he could read your thoughts, he practically appeared next to you.

In reality he came out of the library, his eyes immediately finding you and jogging to catch up with you. “Y/n? Why are you out so late? It’s a Friday, shouldn't you be sacrificing an animal to the law degree gods or something?”

Even with his ‘I’m going to be more serious’ mentality, he couldn’t help but relax when it came to you, the admittedly half assed joke making him grin. In turn a small one formed on your face, something you still weren’t used to.

How could he bring that look to your face when nobody else could? Louise tried but it took a lot. But with Aaron just him being him did it. “Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, continuing on. You knew telling him to go home was no use, if it was dark and you were alone, he’d find a way to stay with you.

“Right, so, going for a walk around campus was your idea of what? Getting tired?” He questioned, chuckling when you gently elbowed him.

“Don’t make fun of my ideas, I think they’re very swell.” You countered, him humming in response. The way you two bounced off of one another was so disgustingly natural you hated it. All you had to do was look at him to feel your cheeks burn, he was already watching you.

The slight and quick eye contact made your stomach flip as Aaron nudged you, “Not poking fun, just trying to understand.” He corrected. “If you’re going to walk around, at least be somewhere cool. C’mon.” 

He held his hand out and you wanted to ignore it. Wanted to laugh in his face at the thought of walking with him hand in hand but you took it instead. His hand enveloping yours in difference as you silently walked off campus and down one of the roads that led from it.

“Where are you taking me?” Your voice soft, no malice or accusatory tone to it.

“You’ll see.” Aaron replied, lightly squeezing your hand. And for a minute you forgot this isn’t what this was supposed to be. Forgot that you had sworn yourself off of him, of boys in general. That you weren’t meant to be holding his hand and walking the streets of DC.

But he just made it so easy, he was so welcoming. So casual. Like he had no ulterior motive to anything but he was savoring the moments you’d let him have. The fact that you let him walk next to you. You let him grab your hand. You let him feel what he felt even if he knew that you weren’t going to give in.

Aaron held out hope that you would. Eventually.

The park just down the road came up only fifteen minutes later. The longest fifteen minutes of your life, trying to keep your breathing even, both from the close proximity and the walking itself.

“You alright?” He asked quietly, the two of you entering the park and walking along one of the paths that lead to the water. 

You nodded, glancing over at him, “Yeah, I’m alright,” you replied in the same tone, lingering on him before you forced your eyes away. 

There honestly should have been something in you that reminded you that he was just with that other girl a few weeks ago, but his presence now was just so strong that it didn’t even cross your mind. 

All that mattered now was his hand in yours and how he was walking perfectly in step with you regardless of the height difference. The way he had a faint smile on his face without even looking at you. 

That was all you focused on. 

“Wanna sit here?” His voice cut into your thoughts, gesturing next to a tree right on the edge of the water. There was a perfect patch of flat ground where you two could sit so you nodded, following him right into the dirt. 

Both of you faced the river, backs hunched in terrible posture but neither of you really cared. “I’m sorry I ran off.” You spoke up after a few minutes, Aaron glancing over at you. “It was… childish. You didn’t deserve that.”

His hand was still in yours, his thumb beginning to stroke over the top of yours. “It’s okay. Hurt. But it’s okay.” Aaron replied, giving you the softest brown eyed gaze you’d ever seen. 

If you weren’t already head over heels for him, this would have made all of those feelings show up magically. “I still don’t know what I want.”

“That’s okay too.”

The quickness in his response, the sense of security it gave you, it made you sigh softly, “Is it?” You muttered, pulling your hand from his in fear he’d do it first. 

Aaron went to speak but you shook your head, “I don’t like feeling like this. I don’t like… you waiting around for me to finally be ‘ready’. What if I never am?” Slight panic layering into your voice. 

“Y/n, listen to me.” He leaned forward to catch your eyes, giving a small smile, “I’ll wait for you. Always. I want to.” And that should have been enough. 

That should have made you feel better but it didn’t. Though in an attempt to avoid the rest of the conversation, you laid back in the dirt, looking up into the leaves above you. 

He mimicked you, lying just to your left in silence. It also didn’t feel weird, forced even. Still it just felt natural. His hand going back to yours felt natural. All of it did. Because why wouldn’t it…

“Why’d you choose law?” Aaron asked after a bit of silence, turning his head to you. 

A light scoff at the way it was worded was what he got in response, “Choose is a bit of a stretch.” You murmured, rolling your tongue across your cheek. “That would equate to there being a second option.” You added. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head more, “You didn’t want to come here?”

“Well, I did. But not at the same time?” Your words confusing not only him but you yourself. “I knew it’s what my parents wanted. So it became what I wanted. You know?”

Aaron nodded slightly, “In a way. I mean I’m here because it’s a family thing. But I know it’s what’s right. I wanted it.”

“A family thing?”

“Yeah, my dad was a lawyer. And my grandfather. My little brother is probably going to be too… family thing.” He sighed, looking back up. 

You slightly lifted onto your elbow, “Is that why you weren’t as serious the last couple years?” You asked, Aaron shrugging in response. 

There wasn’t really a solid reason that he was so lighthearted. It was just how he was. “I guess. But, I’m past that.”

“Yeah I can tell,” you said sarcastically, gesturing to where you two were right now. Aaron laughed fully, nodding. 

“Okay, point taken. But I’m serious, I’m focusing on school more this year, my last year and I want to just… get it done.” He explained, watching as you lifted onto your elbow to look at him. 

His eyes traveled across your face, his lips pursing as you looked down at him, “don’t look at me like that.” He muttered, eyes on yours. 

“Like what?” Your eyebrows pulled together, there wasn’t anything specific about how you were looking at him. You just … were looking. 

Aaron slightly shook his head, “Like that,” he gestured at you, “like you understand and that you get it because, it’s making it really hard to respect the fact you don’t want to kiss me again.” He sighed out softly. 

You immediately bit back a smile, laying back down, “apologies.” You said softly, inching your hand closer to his, your pinky outstretched. 

His looped around yours in response and you allowed yourself to smile this time, shivering slightly. “Are you cold?” He immediately asked, already taking the hoodie he had on, off and putting it around you before you even replied. 

“I didn’t even answer you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You looked over at him, shifting slightly closer to rest your head against his shoulder, “what if you get cold?” You muttered, hand officially slipping into his. 

“I’ll be just fine.” He replied, his head leaning against yours and you just about melted. Feeling the slight vibration of his voice as he spoke made your brain all foggy and you started to wonder if ignoring these feelings would be more distracting than just giving into them. 

But you tucked that back away for the night, the two of you ending up falling asleep right there, his hoodie the only source of warmth until he pulled you to him, your bodies making up for the lack of heat around you. 

That morning you were gone before he even woke up, the sun rising having stirred you from your sleep and shining directly on what was wrong with what you were doing out there. 

His hoodie was still over your shoulders as you practically ran back to your apartment. Truthfully you didn’t even notice until you caught sight of it in the mirror by the entrance and it made your heart pound. Now you had to see him again. 

Not that you didn’t want to. He was literally eating away at your brain. If you weren’t thinking about school, it was about him. 

If he wasn’t thinking about school, he was thinking about you. It was a very balanced experience. And you could live with it.

Until you failed a test because you were sitting two seats away from him and the smell of his cologne was wafting right to your nose. 

That was when you decided you had to do something about this. Anything. 

—

Which apparently meant actively avoiding him at every turn and step. He came out of a building, you took the long way around to go in. 

He was sitting in the back of class, suddenly you were okay with sitting in the front row. You stopped asking him to meet up at the library, not wanting to hear his voice any more than you already did. 

It worked tremendously. Eventually you could find yourself actually focusing on classes again. Your grade sailing. 

It was short lived though. 

“Y/n, someone’s here for youuu,” Louise sing-songed as she passed your bedroom door, trotting into her own to change for the night out she had ahead of her. 

You furrowed your brows, heading out to the living room and seeing Aaron standing there. You wanted to tell him to go away but something in his eyes made you stay. He didn’t look great. 

“Aaron?” You asked softly, looking over his face. As soon as you said his name his lip began to quiver, fighting off a frown. 

Immediately you stepped up to him, pulling him down into a tight hug, “hey… hey… it’s okay… I got you…” you said softly, arms over his shoulder as you kept him to you, his face burying into your neck. 

“I’m sorry for coming here I just- I didn’t know where else to go and Jared’s going out-“

“Aaron, breathe. It’s okay… what happened?” You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hand, the other rubbing across his shoulder with your thumb. 

He sucked in a breath, shaking faintly as he did, “My dad..” he muttered, unable to even phrase the truth, your heart dropping. 

“Oh Aaron…” you whispered, pulling him into another tight hug as Louise came out of her room, her eyes widening slightly at the sight in front of her. 

She silently gave you a faint smile, not interrupting as she left, her own date taking precedence over all of this. 

Your fingers laced through his hair as he let a soft sob out, tears now freely streaming down his face. All you could do was stand there, being someone that could comfort him. 

“Why don’t you come sit down?” You offered, hesitantly pulling back in case he wasn’t ready to move. 

He nodded faintly, you just now able to take in the disheveled look of him. His pajamas were wrinkled and his shirt was inside out as if he had pulled it on in a hurry to get over to you. 

And maybe he had. You didn’t mind. “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay?” You offered quietly as he sat on the couch, your hand still on his arm as you spoke. 

“You don’t have to-“

“I know exactly what you’re going through. I’m making you a damn tea.” You said more firmly, no room for argument as you turned to the kitchen. 

The fact he came here over any of his friends made little sense to you but if it made him feel better the least you could do was help him. 

In five minutes you’d made two cups of tea and brought them out. “I made a green and a chamomile. I don’t know which you want so you can choose.” You offered as you sat next to him, both mugs placed on coasters. 

Aaron grabbed the chamomile, immediately sipping it. “Thank you.” His voice stuffy from the crying he’d done, a weight pulling at your chest. 

“Of course.” You gave him a reassuring smile, knowing there wasn’t really much else you could do for him. 

He was silent and you followed suit, letting him manage how he wanted this all to go. “Can I ask you something?”

You nod. 

“You said you know what I’m going through,” he started, seeing you nod, “but Jared said you go up to your parents house in Rhode Island for vacation?” 

You sipped the other tea, “Yeah, they’re uh, my adoptive parents. They adopted me when I was 15.” You clarified, Aaron nodding faintly in response. 

“Oh.” He paused, “Sorry if that was-“

“Don’t you dare apologize right now, really,” your voice gentle. “I get it.” He faintly shifted, putting the mug back down as he looked at you. 

“Sorry, I mean- okay..” he stuttered slightly, a chuckle coming from you. 

“You should stay.” You suddenly said, the thought coming to your mind and immediately being said, no filter between the instances. 

Aaron looked over quickly, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He sighed out, his eyes red around the brim, your heart aching at the sight.

“You didn’t ask. I offered. And I mean it. Stay. Plus I’m pretty sure Louise and Jared are going to go back to your place so really, you’re better off here anyway.” The small smile you gave him was all it took for him to agree, glancing around at the couch.

It wasn’t that outlandish of an offer, your parents had raised you to be caring and empathetic, meaning you instantly turned down the fact he thought you’d make him sleep out on the couch. “You can take my bed, I probably won’t sleep anyway. Studying and all that.” You shrugged as if the offer came as second nature.

Not that that was that far off of a statement.

“I’m not taking your bed.” Aaron muttered, you looking up at him. It felt like you were suffocating, the way your eyes met and all the feelings, emotions tight between you two.

“Fine. We’ll share then.” Knowing you weren’t kicking him out at all. Not when your instinct right now was to pull him into a tight hug and hold him there forever. Not when you wanted to card your fingers through his hair and whisper that things would be okay.

That it would hurt for a while but eventually you’d feel better. All the things you wanted to do to help the man next to you, took precedence over everything in that moment. And that was scary. But you ignored the fear and took his hand in yours.

Aaron smiled weakly, locking his fingers into yours as you stood, “Come on.” You spoke so softly, like some sort of angel singing down to him. He’d follow anything you said to him then. Anything at all. Which was a bit terrifying but you simply led him to your room, motioning to the bed.

“Get comfortable, I’m gonna put some pajamas on.” You gave him a light smile before grabbing said clothes and heading into the bathroom to change and coming out not even ten minutes later to Aaron still sitting at the end of your bed.

You slightly raised your eyebrows, looking at him, “I couldn’t lay down. Don’t make fun of me.” He said quietly, you taking the spot just to his right, one leg tucked up under you as you reached your hand out.

“Can you now?” You asked softly.

“Yes.” Aaron looked over you, in shock still that you were this open to him, that you had offered not only your apartment but your bed to him. 

You nodded faintly, shifting to the top of the bed, pushing the blanket down and officially inviting him to the comfort of your mattress. It smelled like you, the entire room did. Strawberries and vanilla, the scent you’ve favored since middle school lingered on every surface and Aaron loved it.

He laid next to you, keeping space, still not knowing exactly what was allowed and what wasn’t. Was this a sign you guys were in the clear? Was it just a formality? He had no idea, so for the first time he let you lead things.

As if you could tell that was what he was waiting for, you rolled to face him, thinking over your next actions. Without much extra thought, you grabbed his hand, pulling his arm up and around your shoulder to keep him closer, your other arm slinking over his waist.

“Is this okay?” You asked quietly, Aaron nodding almost instantly, “Cause if you want to lay differently…” You trailed off as he looked down at you, only shifting to lean his forehead against the top of your head.

“This, is perfect.” He let out a sigh, his mind racing. Everything from the news of his father’s death to the way you’d finally let him in. It was a double edged sword that this is what it took. That the loss was what got him here.

The next morning was completely different to the last time you’d woken next to him. Last time you took off before the sun even cleared the sky, this time, you shifted slightly to look up at the man next to you. 

The window in your room let a decent amount of sunlight in, the curtain covering it parting in just a way that a streak of sunlight hit right over his face. 

He was gorgeous. If that was even a word you’d like to use for him. Regardless it’s exactly what you thought of him. Aaron Hotchner was beautiful and you were tired of acting like he wasn’t. 

As if he could feel your stare, he stirred, stretching his legs as he blinked himself awake. There was still a layer of sleep in his eyes as he glanced down at you, no attempt to look away being made by you. 

“Morning…” you said softly, twisting a small bit of his shirt between your thumb and index finger. 

“Morning,” his voice even more attractive as he woke up, immediately making your face heat up at the thoughts that darted across your mind. 

You lifted onto your elbow, looking down at him, “How’d you sleep?” You asked softly, moving your hand off of him as you did. 

Aaron hummed, letting out a breath, “Better than I expected.” He said, grabbing your hand in his, wanting some form of physical connection between the two of you. 

“Good, that’s good.” You said quietly, eyes trailing down your arm to where your hands were connected. “We should probably get up?”

“I’m not ready to.” Aaron said so freely, the fact he didn’t even try to hide how he was feeling made you almost giddy. 

A smile came to your face, one you didn’t bother smothering. “That’s okay, right here is good too.” You replied, pulling your lip between your teeth sheepishly. 

Being near him made your brain go haywire and you hated it so damn much. 

But you were okay with getting used to it. 

“Aaron?” You asked softly, still leaning up, over him slightly. He practically read your mind, using the clasped hands to pull you down, lifting his chin to catch your lips on his.

You couldn’t even be surprised, the look on his face before gave his intentions away as you let him pull you close, his other hand cupping the side of your face. 

His finger slid into your hair, holding you closer than you ever had before. 

Maybe it wasn’t the right time to do this. But he would rather be kissing you than thinking about his home life, so he acted on it. 

Moving his lips with yours until you wanted to stop. Which you didn’t. So he shifted up, rolling the two of you over so he was hovering over you, pulling away slightly. 

You blinked a couple times, letting out a slightly shaky breath, “is this really a good time to do all of… this?” You asked, wanting to do nothing less than all of it. 

“The perfect time actually,” he murmured before kissing you again, deeper than before.

JOIN HOTCH'S TAGLIST HERE!

TAGS: nobody yet technically but these people whoop whooped so.. @pastelpinkflowerlife @p0pscenealright and @thestarrynightslover for saying they'd read it... thank you for your service

[traegorn]

Why do you think so many people in your notes are so ignorant of how American government works?

I graduated just in time to escape No Child Left Behind. Has basic social studies really gotten that bad over the last couple of decades?

To be fair I was going to say that if your school is that bad there's the internet, but then I remembered that the internet sucks now and it's full of mis and dis information.

How do we get people to learn about how the government actually works, and especially how do we get it past their conviction that they already know how it works?

It's just it's amazing how many people think the president is already the dictator that Trump wants the position to be.

So I honestly think a lot of people either just never paid attention in school or they were never taught it in the first place. Like if they didn't grow up politically active, it's easy for the world to make a lot of this stuff opaque.

I was on my first picket line at six years old, so I kinda take stuff for granted sometimes I guess. My parents have always been politically engaged and brought it home with them.

My sister, my brother, and I all got degrees in Political Science. Both my siblings got law degrees, and my sister works for the FAA and my brother works for AFSCME.

I, uh, got a boring corporate cubicle job, ran an anime con for two decades, and wrote a bunch of dumb comics and books.

Anyways.

What's really happened is that there is a lot of propaganda out there trying to disenfranchise the left. And folks fall for it -- if you don't know that the federal executive branch can't override state law, it's easy to blame the guy that you're told is "in charge." It's the same way right wing talking points blame Biden for high gas prices when they go up around the globe.

If you want to know why I keep responding to folks, it's that I'm hoping that I'm talking to real people and that I can let them know what they've been mislead about. Maybe some are psyops or propaganda accounts -- but I'm betting they aren't. I'm betting they're angry people who need someone to lash out at.

And it's simple to blame one guy, especially when the press ignores most of the good things he's done due to the very successful right wing propaganda machine.

I hope I can just let people in on how the world isn't that simple, and that we have to care more about helping as many folks as we can over hurting the people we're mad at.

[slowd1ving]

Hi! I love your lookism fics, I would love to see your take on Seongji Yuk x gn reader. Something sweet and simple would be great!

I see that you like using science metaphors and im curious to how many can you use in one fic. I’m a complete chemistry nerd 🤓 😂

THE MUNDANE . 　⁺ ✦ SEONGJI YUK

In which an amateur stargazer finds that no, they do not teach biology in Cheonliang, and yes, gravity does in fact affect everything with mass. woah... gravitational fields.... woah inverse square law... woah, G.... ik you probably wanted more chemistry but I couldn't resist the physics gnawing away/// arghhh pairing: seongji yuk + gn reader warnings: prejudice (quite literally lookism) wc: 1.3k

LOOKISM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s a monster living in the Cheonliang mountains. 

A flutter of cloying kindness greets you when you first pull up to the rural village: tires burning on summer asphalt, senseless droning of cicadas, and warm rain seeping through your thin clothes. No rhyme or reason as to why you decided on this particular village to stop by; though, the rhyme might just be the hiccuping couplet of your pulse. Specifically, this pair of beats as your motorcycle drives past the tunnel; heavy, like two black holes encountering each other for the first time. Spinning, spinning. As the wheels on your bike do, naturally. 

Six fingers and toes, he’s cursed by the gods! Hark, my children—

Newton’s theory of gravitation dictates any particle with matter attracts any other with a force inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. This is the inverse square law. It’s used for practical and theoretical applications, but it’s pretty useful when considering why people are drawn to something when they are close to it. Emotionally, physically, empathetically. Psychologically. See, once one begins to increase the proximity of two souls, there is a certain degree of attraction that occurs consequently. 

Pray should you ever encounter this one, for he is but a merciless, mad beast.

It’s a stagnated hum that twines through the fields. Little kids begin the verse, and their elders finish it while you leisurely drive past. Over and over. They play hopscotch to the rhythm in their secluded playgrounds, clap their small hands to the beat, and seem to have no eerie feelings behind their bright smiles. A distorted tale, wound through with the modest price of one person’s dignity. There’s a basis for every tale, after all—bitterly warped to suit the storyteller’s perspective. 

Do not pity the one abandoned by all. 

Thus, when you begin the winding slopes through the fields and up around the mountains, it reduces the distance between you and the epicentre. You trust your gut. You believe (mostly) that what compels you to park your motorcycle on this particular trail is no madness, but rather a tangible, logical reason. A scientific one, if you will. You’re a mass, the monster of Cheonliang certainly is a mass—thus gravity objectively binds you both. 

It’s not entirely implausible to suggest the rumours entice you as much as anything, but the heavy telescope bound to your vehicle is as good a reason as any to stop by this eve. And that: the buzz in your very cells, that seem to divide simply to tug you in the direction of the sprawled forest. Stargazing in Cheonliang it is, then. 

Despite your idle curiosity, you don’t go looking: quietly setting up your equipment in a clearing where the breeze flows cleanly, like fragile forgiveness in a peaceful room. It’s a saccharine solitude—as sweet as tanghulu when you close your eyes. 

“It’s dangerous.” Those are the first words you hear in this village that aren’t blighted by eerie insinuation. Here, where the mountain is solitary and sepulchral, that is the only time you find someone who isn’t the real monster in this mired town. Human, flesh and blood and warm. 

“Isn’t everything?” You peer through the eyepiece experimentally, focusing on the calm tide in his voice—

“No need t’be a smartass.” His cadence becomes slightly rougher as you hear a dull thump; by the movement of syllables, you’d judge he just leaned against a tree. “Was a piece of friendly advice.”

Hmm. You look away from the sky that’s somehow cleared up—miserable grey giving way to faint periwinkle, then atrament smattered with incandescent freckles—then at the stranger peering right back at you. 

“What should I be wary of, then?” There’s a relaxed sort of ease in your body, one you’re unfamiliar with. 

He stares at you askance, as though you’re an idiot. 

“Strangers,” he answers brusquely, pointing at himself. “Haven’t you heard the rumours about this place?”

“Oh.” You turn back to the equipment, leaning down to bring the height of the scope up comfortably. Stars, you think dreamily. “That stupid song? Here I thought you’d say boars or something.”

“Stupid song?” he echoes. “And you still went up?”

Six digits on his left hand as it sways downwards, six on the right hand nestled in his pocket. He’s tall, so much so that anyone would feel intimidated staring up at the guy. Close—he’s close by, which is perhaps why you gravitate towards him. Two masses, feeling greater force with greater proximity. This was the epicentre that drew you here. 

“Is biology class illegal here or something?” you counter incredulously. “Do I need to pay attention to fear mongering?”

“No,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “I guess you don’t.”

It’s strange. Your first encounter with Seongji Yuk can only be classified as abnormal. Gazing at the massive bodies scattered across the heavens, it’s perhaps common sense that the man next to you interests you as much as those heavenly giants. He’s closer, after all—kneeling down beside you so he can peek up at stars just as large as him. 

Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s simply science that ties the two of you together. He gives you his name, you offer yours in return. Seongji Yuk. Lying in the grass with damp seeping into your shirt, you ramble about astrophysics, while he carefully coats fruits in molten sugar. Shards as sharp as the words at the base of the mountain, though far sweeter. 

He’s cautious—you can feel his eyes on you as you sit on his wooden steps. In fact, his eyes trail after you when dawn breaks and it’s time to move on to your original destination. 

“I’ll come visit,” you vow, for the cycle of orbit has already begun. Two masses have drawn closer to each other, and naturally begin the spin round their counterpart. 

“No one told you about stranger danger?” You’re too damn trusting: haloed in ditzy stars, the type in cartoons when characters hit their heads. Except it’s permanent, and you don’t look stupid, but rather awash in their glow. 

“Everything’s dangerous,” you evade sheepishly, and that’s that. 

Summer comes and goes, but it’s fine not bringing your telescope in the chill of autumn. After all, you’ve found something equally as captivating to stare at. Inky eyes, dotted with such a shine that it looks like a star’s emerged rather than a pupil. 

It’s as if the year is put into distillation—monthly visits condensing into fortnightly ones, then weekly ones, before you’re driving the hour down to this place every few days. He’s made you a little space in his house: one where you can snooze on a spare futon with little worry for safety. For there’s no place more secure in a ‘monster’ lair than by the side of a so-called ‘monster’. 

“Quit staring,” he warns, matter-of-factly while the axe collides with the wood on the stump—cleaved neatly in two, almost too cleanly. 

“You’re pretty, I just can’t help it,” you sigh, leaning back on the creaky porch. There’s a book by your side: a thick text filled with particles and numbing quanta. 

You’re strange. He’s had this thought for a while, but especially today. In fact, you may be more supernatural than he, for each time you say such things, his heart skips one or two beats. Like clockwork, the mechanical nature of your spell is guaranteed: mouth going somewhat dry, ears seeping with a faint crimson, eyebrows creasing minutely. 

Why? 

“Have you seen yourself?” you counter incredulously, and that is when he realises he did not keep his thoughts silent. “You’ve literally got stars in your eyes, man. You….”

Ah. It’s moments like these where he feels so utterly ordinary; listening to you ramble on about things he doesn’t particularly understand, just like anyone else his age. 

It’s nice being bound to someone like this: close to another, experiencing the gravity that draws two people together for himself. 

Science is a perfectly plausible thing to believe in, after all. 

[pilot-boi]

How is it when Jaunper and the group arrive in Argus? I want to know reactions from Maria, Cordovin, Saffron, Terra, and Adrian please.

Maria takes it all in stride. She’s fresh off being a rando and then getting dumped head first into The Plot, so she just takes one look at Jaune and is like “This isn’t even the strangest thing I’ve seen TODAY.”

Adrian is too young to really get what’s going on. After the initial freak out because “My uncle! This is my uncle but it isn’t!” he mostly just just wants rides on Jaune’s back, which Jaune is more than happy to provide

Cordovin is Cordovin. She thinks he’s an abomination and shows him the same racism and disdain as she shows Blake, but to a MUCH greater degree. I wouldn’t be shocked if she uses it/its when referring to him, which would ABSOLUTELY set off NPR

Terra is holding it together, she’s staying strong for Saphron. She’s more than a little disturbed and freaked out by Jaune, she mourned him just like her wife. Her brother-in-law is supposed to be dead, so dead they didn’t even have a body to bury. And now here he is as some kind of beast

She’s taking it better than Saphron, but she’s still VERY shaken. She mostly deals with it by focusing on the practicalities of the situation, like working with JNPR to make sure there’s a “nest” set up for Jaune to sleep. He can’t really use beds after all. Also helps that she’s at work most of the time where she can focus on the CCT relay

Saphron, of course, is beside herself. She hen JNPR first arrive, she thinks she’s going crazy. There’s a giant rabbit here wearing her brother’s face and speaking with his voice. Her brother who was burned into ash a year and a half ago is standing here but he’s WRONG, he’s not her brother, he’s a BEAST

She recognizes his teammates from when they visited the family homestead after the Fall. They treat this creature like he’s real, so he’s not a hallucination. But they call him Jaune, ask if she’s his sister. And they’re feeding into her madness. Why would they be so cruel as to bring an amalgamation doppelgänger of her brother to HER HOME and flaunt him in front of her?!

The CCT is barely functioning over short distances, but she just can’t do this on her own. She calls the other Arcs and she doesn’t know how much of her message gets through, but she begs them to come to Argus

It’s not Jaune, it can’t actually be Jaune. He’s dead. She mourned him, she’s STILL mourning him. But his face pinches in the same way she knows when she says he isn’t real, and his hands still have the scars from when he burnt them taking pizza out of the oven, and his voice still cracks when he rushes to comfort her when reason abandons her

It can’t be Jaune. But it is. And if it IS him, then she can’t let him go or he’ll dissolve into ash again. So she clings to him, her little brother who is bigger than her and died before her

And for a few hours she allows herself to indulge in the madness that her brother is alive

It takes a day or so, but Saphron eventually comes around to the fact that this is actually Jaune. Terra’s connections with the Atlas military are able to get him in to run tests (DNA, Aura matching, lie detectors, the whole nine yards) and they determine that against all reason this IS Jaune

It’s impossible, but the science says it’s true. And Terra believes the science. And Saphron believes Terra

Her brother is alive

The siblings spend the next few hours holed up in the spare bedroom in the nest JNPR constructed, just holding each other and crying and laughing. And when they emerge, Saphron looks more whole than she’s been since the Fall

[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 3 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Three: Guess The Space Was The Thing That I Needed, But I Miss You

Summary: You arrived on present-day Earth engulfed in violence and chaos. And a familiar foe who transcends the universe’s laws and logic. He hails from a realm where science is a game, but that salt trick apparently blurred the lines of reality enough for him to enter your universe.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, 

Word Count: 15.5k

A/N: Hello old friend, and here we are, you and me on the last… chapter. When I posted the first chapter of this mini-series I was honestly terrified of the response I would be getting. I hadn’t been writing for a while due to stress or lack of motivation. But then the miracle called the Doctor Who specials came into existence and here we are. Also, Merry Christmas Eve! Here’s my little gift to you. I hope you enjoy. (P.S. yes there will be an epilogue :>)

Song: This Love by Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)

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Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, THE STREETS OF LONDON — DAY, 2023

The world descends into turmoil and pandemonium as cars collide, their metal frames screeching against each other. The air is filled with the cacophony of people shouting and screaming. Amidst the mayhem, you, the Doctor, and Donna navigate the tumult, pushing Wilf's wheelchair through the chaotic landscape. Struggling through the disarray, people around you engage in fights and heated arguments, adding to the surreal spectacle of disorder unfolding.

As the rumble of a truck engine grows louder, a man defiantly strides onto the road, seemingly prepared to challenge the oncoming driver. Reacting swiftly, both you and the Doctor extend your arms, urgently intervening. You exclaim, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Excuse me. Can you tell me, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

The elderly man, with an air of self-assuredness, retorts, "I can’t drive."

Perplexed, you furrow your brow and inquire, "Okay, so— Which means?"

Meanwhile, a car behind you impatiently honks, prompting the Doctor to raise his hand, signaling the driver to wait. Unperturbed, the stranger in front of you explains, "I pay my taxes. Which means I paid for this road. It is mine, and I will do with it what I like."

The Doctor interjects, cautioning, "You’ll get yourself killed."

The man, with a sneer and a narrowed gaze, replies, "It’s my life, not yours." Undeterred, the Doctor suggests, "But you could just stand over there and be safe."

Flailing his arms emphatically, the man retorts, "Blame them! Because it all changed two days ago. Everyone started thinking they’re right all the time. And they won’t change their mind. If you try to argue, they go mad. Well, not me. I’ve always been right."

The deafening honk of the truck intensifies as it barrels forward, compelling the Doctor to swiftly seize you and yank you out of harm's way. In the chaos, you unintentionally collide with a well-dressed man adorned in a tuxedo, complete with a top hat and a staff in his left hand. Apologizing in a refined manner, he utters, "Oh, excusez-moi, madame et monsieur, je suis désolé. But perhaps you will dance avec moi."

He then takes the lead in an impromptu dance, placing his hand just above your waist and swaying with you amidst the bedlam unfolding on the street. In a rather peculiar tone, he utters, "Ooh la la."

Feeling uncomfortable, you gently pull away from the eccentric stranger. The Doctor, sensing your unease, protectively tucks you behind his body and asserts, "That's my wife, sir. Excuse me." With a subtle maneuver, he guides you away, back to where Donna and Wilf are positioned on the side of the street.

Amidst the cacophony of screaming voices echoing through the chaotic streets, the peculiar stranger continues his solo dance, creating a bizarre spectacle in the midst of the turmoil. The distant whirr of a helicopter above adds to the disconcerting atmosphere, leaving you and the Doctor with a growing sense of panic, a shared feeling of confusion about the unfolding events.

Armored vehicles roll onto the scene, their imposing presence and military precision contrasting sharply with the chaotic backdrop. A soldier, wielding a loud megaphone, calls out with urgency, "Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Stay where you are. You are UNIT control. Repeat, UNIT control."

The soldiers swiftly move into action, their movements coordinated as they converge on your location. One of them confidently asserts, "Go, go, go! Let’s move! Eyes on, eyes on! I got them." The atmosphere shifts from anarchic confusion to a semblance of organized control as UNIT takes charge.

The authoritative figure from UNIT, Colonel Ibrahim, strides forward, a no-nonsense expression etched on his face. "Doctor, Stargazer, I’m Colonel Ibrahim of UNIT squad five," he declares with military precision. He gestures toward a waiting vehicle, a subtle urgency in his stance.

Donna, the voice of concern, steps forward, her plea directed at the Colonel. "Get him to safety. All right? Never mind about us. I want my grandad safe. All right? You got that?" Her words carry the weight of a granddaughter determined to ensure the safety of her grandad, emphasizing the weight of the situation.

Colonel Ibrahim gives an assertive nod, his military demeanor unwavering. "Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep your family safe," he assures Donna. Wilf, displaying concern for his granddaughter's well-being, encourages her, "You go with the Doctor."

Amidst the organized chaos of UNIT soldiers following orders, a palpable sense of unease settles over you. A feeling of being observed intensifies, prompting you to instinctively clasp the Doctor’s hand. Together, your hearts quicken as you turn to the left, discovering the stranger with whom you shared an odd dance. He stands eerily still, offering a disconcerting smile and a small wave, sending shivers down your spine.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Seated alongside the Doctor in the first helicopter, you peer out of the window, taking in the chaotic scene below. The city is ablaze, casting an eerie glow that turns the world outside into a disorienting spectacle, as if the very fabric of reality has been upended. The second helicopter follows closely, bearing the weight of the TARDIS, an emblem of hope amidst the turmoil. The flickering flames paint a surreal canvas against the night sky, leaving you with a profound sense of displacement.

The helicopter sets down on the helipad at the UNIT headquarters, and as you disembark, the brisk wind from the rotor blades whips through the air. Donna clutches her coat tightly, shouting over the din, "Oh, here comes trouble."

Shirley, in her wheelchair, wheels forward with a wide smile, greeting you with a warm, "I could say the same thing about you." The TARDIS touches down nearby on the helipad, and amidst the noise, the Doctor remarks, "Shirley, you can’t be serious." Shirley squeezes your arm in a friendly greeting.

Chief Scientific Officer Kate, your boss, appears on the scene, her short blonde hair bouncing slightly as she strides towards the group. The Doctor, arms outstretched, exclaims, "And Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. I remember your father working night and day to keep UNIT a secret. Look at you now. Out and proud defending the Earth."

Kate embraces the Doctor tightly before turning to you with a subdued smile, saying, "I fought them all. Robots and insects and yetis and clones. But what do we do this time, Doctor? How do we fight the human race?"

Inside the UNIT headquarters, the large steel doors close behind you, shutting out the chaos. The new HQ unfolds before your eyes, with the hum of radio chatter and the bustle of people. Multiple screens and tables with keyboards fill the room, and a triple giant screen at the center displays various statistics and news outlets reporting the devastation around the world.

Kate hands the tablet to the Doctor, and you lean over to peer at the symbols and graphs displayed on it. The Doctor, engrossed in the data, doesn't look up as he remarks, "Good, good, good. Now, what have we got? Are these worldwide? 'Cause I'm gonna need all of the statistics."

As he turns to his right, an exclamation of surprise escapes him. Your gaze follows his, and there stands a very familiar redheaded companion and colleague. She grins at the Doctor's reaction, and he joyfully exclaims, "Oh! That is the best news! Melanie, hello!"

Both you and the Doctor share a brief hug with Mel, who giggles and adds, "We'll catch up later. We haven't got time." You chime in with a playful, "Ta-da! Surprise, Doctor."

Turning to you, the Doctor asks, "You knew?"

You playfully roll your eyes and retort, "We work together, dear." Mel adds, "We also try to meet every Saturday for a cuppa."

Mel tilts her head slightly, addressing Donna with a warm smile, "I used to be like you. I was one of their companions." Donna gasps, exclaiming, "I wasn't the first redhead?"

With a shake of her head, Mel allows her large red curls to bounce, "No. That was me."

Donna awkwardly chuckles as the Doctor takes his glasses and wears them, quipping, "Although don't say companion. That sounds like we park him on the seafront at Weston-super-mare."

As Shirley pushes herself off the wheelchair, standing and giving Donna a look, Donna suddenly realizes what she said and turns to face Shirley, asking, "Is 'park' rude?" Shirley replies with a monotone voice, "Borderline." Donna winces in response.

In the heart of the command center, Kate stands with authority, her tablet in hand, and announces, "And stations. Gold Protocols. The Doctor and the Stargazer are in the room. Report."

Shirley adjusts her stance, her voice cutting through the air, "Two days ago, an increase in violence worldwide. The same increase in every country, all rising at exactly the same rate."

"Basically, every single human being thinks they're right and won't be told otherwise," Kate says, moving to stand next to you. Colonel Ibrahim adds, "That plane crash, the F665, Boston to Heathrow. The pilot declared his right to land wherever he wants."

On the screen, footage of the crazed pilot plays. His eyes were wide, he laughs amidst the blaring alarms of his instruments, declaring, "I'm coming home. Lookout, London. Daddy's coming home!"

In the tension-filled room, the Doctor initiates, "If everyone is going mad—" and Kate concurs, completing the thought, "So is the government."

Shirley, with a solemn nod, swipes on the screen of her tablet, unveiling footage of the current Prime Minister. He stands on a podium, his laughter echoing as he addresses the nation, "What do I care? I mean, seriously? Why should I care about you?"

In the aftermath of Donna's nonchalant remark, injecting a touch of humor with her observation, "No change there then," the room grapples with the unsettling scenes unfolding on the screen. The Doctor, now reclaiming the tablet, hands it back to Mel, who places it on her station. His gaze then sweeps across the room, and he remarks, "But you're fine. You're completely normal. And that's because of the—" He gestures towards the silver bands adorned with a glowing blue light worn around their arms.

Kate steps in to elaborate, "Oh, we call it the Zeedex." As the room processes this information, a robot's machine voice chimes in from the far left, connected to tubes and sporting screens, proudly announcing, "An invention of the Vlinx."

Taking a step forward, the Doctor addresses the robotic AI, "Hello, the Vlinx. I'm the Doctor, and this is my wife, the Stargazer."

Quick to clarify, you interject, "Not married yet."

"Just practicing," the Doctor playfully hums before turning his attention back to the Vlinx. With curiosity piqued, he queries, "So why's it called the Zeedex?"

In response to the Vlinx's brief explanation, "Good name," the Doctor emits a small, contemplative "Oh." Kate supplements the information, stating, "It disrupts the brain. Flattens the spike. Keeps everything calm."

With a slight scrunch of your nose, you inquire, "And the spike is?"

"I think I need to show you," Kate responds. Sensing a shift in the room, she commands Shirley, "Activate brain scan."

"Activating, ma'am," Shirley acknowledges. A beep emanates from the computer, and the screen displays the frequency inside Kate's brain. She points out, "That's my brain activity. Seems normal, albeit slightly heightened, given the end of the world. Now keep your eyes on the scan."

Kate moves to the center of the room and instructs, "And deactivate my Zeedex."

Shirley types on the keyboard, announcing, "Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, off." The light on her silver armband extinguishes. Kate takes a moment to scan the room, hands on hips, and asks, "Well?"

You gently interject, "Uh, hello?"

"Hello," Kate replies promptly, but her narrowed eyes betray suspicion. The Doctor poses a simple question, "How are you?"

"Fine," she responds.

You casually inquire, "Busy day?" Kate's nostrils flare, and she glares at you, retorting, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just asking. Is that a problem?" you reply, observing the increased spike in brain activity. Kate aggressively points at you, asserting, "It's an invasion of my privacy. In fact, it's an assault on my civic rights. And I think it's highly relevant that the person demanding information from me is an alien."

The Doctor turns to Shirley, nodding in approval for her to activate her Zeedex, and calmly says, "Okay."

However, Kate abruptly interjects, rejecting the Doctor's initiative, "No, no, no, no, no. I think you'll find that I'm in charge here." With a swift motion, she rips off her Zeedex, launching into an impassioned tirade, "And we've been infiltrated by aliens, a man and a woman with two hearts," she points accusatorily at the Doctor, "a man who changes his face and cannot be trusted."

As her anger intensifies, Kate aggressively directs her accusations at Donna and Mel, both with red hair, insinuating a conspiracy. You instinctively step forward, shielding them from Kate's escalating rage.

Growing more incensed, Kate turns her ire towards Shirley, who looks on with mild dissatisfaction. Kate singles out your friend and declares, "And as for her, in that chair. I've seen you walk. I've seen you walking! Don't deny it!"

UNIT soldiers move in to pull Kate away, and she unleashes her fury at you, "And you! This is all your fault! If you hadn't fallen into the bloody time rift, altering the universe with your existence and falling in love with the Doctor—none of this would have happened!"

The soldiers carefully escort Kate away, and the Doctor swiftly positions himself in front of you, protectively shielding you from lingering gazes. You bury your face in his shoulder as Kate continues to shout, "No, you can't stop me. It's about time you heard the truth."

One of the soldiers places the silver band back on Kate's arm and commands, "Activate Zeedex," resulting in a beep and the restoration of the blue light on her band. Kate sits on the floor, panting, as the tension in the room eases.

You lift your head from the Doctor's shoulder and nod, silently assuring him that you're okay. Together, you approach Kate, who is visibly distressed, covering her face with her hand. She breathes out an apology, "I'm sorry."

Both you and the Doctor shake your heads, reassuring her, "No, it's okay."

Gasping for air, Kate turns to Shirley, mortified, realizing the extent of her outburst. She says, "Shirley, I'm so sorry."

Shirley dismisses the need for an apology, "Absolutely no need."

UNIT soldiers help Kate to her feet as she acknowledges, "It's not just me. It keeps spiking inside every single person's head."

"But what does that mean? Is it being beamed in from outside?" Donna inquires. The Vlinx responds, "No. It is natural. It is generated inside the brain."

Donna points out, "But not me. Not Grandad." Mel adds, "Nor me. I'm wearing a Zeedex just in case, but I've been fine. Well, no more opinionated than usual." Donna sighs, "You and me both."

You and the Doctor ponder the situation, and he suggests, "Maybe long-term travel in the TARDIS put you out of sync."

Donna shakes her head and proposes, "Can't you give everyone a Zeedex?" Kate scoffs at the idea, gesturing to the screen behind her, where a late-night talk show host expresses her skepticism, "They're using this to control us and monitor us. And microwave our brains. I am anti-Zeedex!"

The Doctor, in response, asks you to help him with his coat. You take it from him and neatly place it on a chair. He then stands next to Shirley and suggests, "Can we filter this wavelength? Lose the background noise."

Shirley hums in response, typing away on her keyboard, "Uh-huh. Gives us a strong coherent wave in seizure focus. Peaking seven times."

As you consider the recent events, you voice your thoughts, "So, this started two days ago. But why then? What else happened on that day?" Kate responds, "Exactly. We've been looking for a trigger, and there's this."

The screen illuminates with the image of a satellite gracefully orbiting the Earth, accompanied by detailed blueprints on the left side. Kate elucidates, "The KOSAT 5 satellite, launched by South Korea, activated two days ago.”

Shirley, with a swift gesture, adds to the explanation by displaying a live feed of the satellite, which hovers 36,000 kilometers above Earth. Kate expounds further, “KOSAT is the final link in the chain. The world is now 100% online. From the highest mountain to the deepest valley on Earth, everyone is connected.”

"But KOSAT is clean. We’ve checked and double-checked. It’s not like the old Archangel Network. There’s nothing hiding in that signal." Shirley asserts, and the Doctor, with a contemplative hum, adds, “And yet.” He shakes his head, “For the first time in history, everyone has access to this.” He taps on the edge of one of the monitors, saying, “A screen.”

"What if it’s a tune?" Donna asks, prompting you and the Doctor to turn around and face her.

"What?" The Doctor inquires as you move to stand in front of her. Donna continues, "I know we’ve only got minutes left to live, but give me a second." Donna begins to draw lines on a clipboard with a piece of paper as she explains, "Because I spent six months teaching my daughter how to play the recorder till she said, ‘This is not who I am.’ That was the start of a whole other conversation, believe you me.”

She places the sheet of paper on the screen, drawing dots on the corresponding line, “But if… you look at these seven peaks, like this…”

She flips the sheet of paper around, revealing what you recognize to be music notes, and Donna confirms this by saying, “Maybe it's music.”

“A classic arpeggio. Middle C, an octave higher.” Mel says before she sings in arpeggio, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

“Oh.” Kate says as if she remembers something, and you look around to see others having the same reaction, as if they’ve heard it before. You and the Doctor look around and ask, “What? What is it?”

Mel repeats her tune, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

Donna gasps, her eyes slightly watering and her blue eyes shining as she says, “I know that tune.”

“I-I know that from somewhere. What are the notes?” Shirley asks, spinning her chair to face you, and you read them off, “C, E, G, C, G, E, C. It’s a musical palindrome.” Then you sigh, “But it’s just a straightforward arpeggio. Everyone knows arpeggios.”

“It’s a basic tune. So, the question is, why are we all reacting to this one?” Mel asks as everyone looks around at each other. You and the Doctor frown, and he says, “We’re not. The Vlinx?”

“Negative.” The Vlinx replies promptly, and you hum out loud, “Just the humans.”

“It’s just— It’s so familiar. It’s like it’s been buried in my head for years.” Donna says and groans, “What is it?”

Then you hear giggling from across the room, a nearby station. You and the Doctor turn to see Shirley pointing to her screen, a puppet in black and white display as she says, “I found the exact same notes.”

The puppet begins to laugh in arpeggio, and you and the Doctor realize it at the same time. The Doctor says, “Oh, it’s not a tune. It’s a laugh.”

“It’s a puppet.” Kate says as she stares wide-eyed at the screen featuring the puppet.

“The giggle in everyone’s head.” You say as you stand behind Shirley, looking at the monitor as it continues to laugh in the arpeggio notes.

“What is that thing?” Donna asks, and Shirley explains, “Stooky Bill, the first face ever to appear on television. Put there by John Logie Baird himself.”

Donna shakes her head and points at Stooky displayed on the monitor, “I’ve never seen him before, so how do— How do I know that laugh?”

You blink a few times before realizing out loud, saying, “If the very first image has been hiding in every screen since… sneaking into your head, carving a wave, and waiting…”

“But hiding how? If there were secret pictures hiding in every television, we would have found it,” Shirley asks, so sure of herself and UNIT’s capabilities. The Doctor then sassily and in a mocking tone replies, “Oh, why? Because you’re so clever? Maybe Stooky Bill’s a lot smarter than you.” Shirley raises her eyebrows and puckers her lips, somewhat agreeing to the possibility.

“Imagine… if he burnt himself into television itself and every picture ever since, every single one.” You say before taking out your sonic screwdriver, pointing to one of the monitors, and clicking the button. It whizzes, and the image of Stooky Bill appears. The woman who sat by that desk pushes back her chair in shock, and he is mockingly laughing as you hear the notes in the air.

“Screen… after screen, after screen.” You use your sonic screwdriver, tapping on each station's monitor, revealing Stooky Bill as it continues to reverberate its laughs.

The Doctor joins in, using his sonic on an employee’s phone in their hands. He says as he clicks his sonic screwdriver, “And every type of screen.” The Doctor taps on Kate’s tablet, showing the image of Stooky Bill. He says, “Every one and everywhere. He’s inside ‘em all!”

You move to stand in the very front of the room, center, pointing your sonic at the large screens. “And two days ago, he finally connected worldwide, branding his Giggle into your brains.” The sonic screwdriver warbles, and images of Stooky Bill, along with his laugh, appear on the large monitor.

The Doctor stands by your side, adding in a low voice, “Since the very first existence of television. Laughing at the human race. And driving you mad.”

The entire group gathers for a small meeting by the large metal doors that lead to the helipad outside. You stand in a circle, positioned by the Doctor’s side, his glasses tucked away in his pocket. Kate tries to grasp the newfound knowledge as she asks, “But something at that scale, over so many years, who could do that?”

The Doctor's countenance turns wrathful, and you sense the heat and intensity radiating from his body as he retorts, "The puppet’s just a puppet. We’re looking for the puppeteer." He then pauses, taking a deep breath that puffs out his chest as he crosses his arms. Speaking with a low intensity, he adds, "And I’ve got a memory. I think something’s coming back… after a very long time."

Raising his voice to address everyone, he grits his teeth, "But it’s not only the giggle. Don’t go thinking you’ve got an excuse. The human race might be clever and bright and brilliant." His words are delivered with a hint of disgust, "But it’s also savage and venal and relentless."

The Doctor points to the screens showcasing people causing havoc around the world as he vehemently declares, "All the anger out there on the street. The lies, the righteousness." Jabbing a finger at the rest of the group, he continues, "That’s human. That’s you. That’s who you are. Using you’re intelligence to be stupid. Poisoning the world. And hating each other, you’ve never needed any help with that!”

He briefly pauses, toning down his voice as he says, “But today, something else is using your worst attributes. Playing with you. Like toys.” A chill runs down your spine as a distant memory starts to resurface, hinting at an old-time foe returning to wreak havoc. You blink, a hunch forming about who might be orchestrating all of the catastrophe.

“Can we take that satellite out?” The Doctor asks Kate, and she replies promptly, “All missiles are on lockdown, but we’ve got the Galvanic Beam.”

“What range?” You inquire, and Kate explains, “We could pick off a pebble on the moon. Trouble is, taking out a South Korean satellite will have international consequences, so we’ve been waiting for permission. All world leaders are being affected by the Giggle.”

The Doctor nods and says, “You have my permission.” He then looks to you, and you deeply sigh, nodding, “And you have mine.”

Kate nods to Colonel Ibrahim, signaling to get the Galvanic Beam ready. Then, she turns to you and the Doctor, “Thank you, Doctor and Stargazer.” Kate moves past you, announcing to the entire UNIT staff on the floor, “Gold protocol override. All staff, initiate Galvanic activation. Bring up the beam.”

“Platform in motion,” an employee's voice echoes through the speaker as the platform outside the tower shifts downward.

“Shirley, have we got the exact date that Logie Baird made that transmission?” The Doctor asks aloud, to which Shirley responds with determination, “I’ll find it,” and begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“All clear on the helipad,” another employee announces over the speaker as The Doctor walks over to Mel’s station, and you make your way towards Shirley, beginning to help her locate the date of the transmission.

The Doctor leans over Mel’s shoulder, and she says to him, “I fed the KOSAT fake coordinates, so it’s coming into UK orbit. Within range in three minutes.” The Doctor compliments her, “You’re brilliant.” He then looks at her with a smile, “Hello.” Mel replies with her own smile, the kind that reaches her eyes as she says, “Hi.”

You glance over to see the Doctor and Mel chatting as they work, and a sense of happiness and comfort washes over you, knowing Mel is okay. After a few minutes, you hear Mel announce to everyone, “Galvanic Beam payload boarding.”

“Platform locking at level 55,” an employee announces over the intercom, and Mel continues, “Galvanic Beam in position. KOSAT in range in 90 seconds.”

A beep emanates from Shirley’s computer, and your eyes quickly scan over the words before Shirley turns her head and says to the Doctor, “Doctor, Stooky Bill was televised on the 2nd of October 1925 at 22 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RF.”

You grab the Doctor’s coat from the chair and hand it to him as he says to Kate, “Fire when ready. Don’t wait for us.” He then looks to Colonel Ibrahim, quickly asking, “TARDIS?”

The Colonel points as he replies promptly, “Suite 17.”

The Doctor grunts, “Okay.” After putting on his coat, he grabs your hand, pulling you along with him as Donna says to you both, “You’re not going without me.”

As you enter the suite and find the TARDIS parked there, the Doctor quickly unlocks it with his key and rushes inside, with you and Donna trailing right behind him. Time’s running out, always running out, and every road you discover disappears under your feet. Because if nothing else, you're given a little time to change the game, a chance to redefine everything.

SOHO — 1925

The TARDIS whooshes and whizzes, finally giving a loud thud as it lands. The Doctor opens the door first, popping his head out to check if it’s safe before allowing you and Donna to step out into the dimly lit alley where the TARDIS is parked. The flickering gas lamps cast a warm glow, highlighting the cobblestone street and the faint echoes of distant chatter.

The Doctor announces to the two of you, “Soho, 1925.”

“So, what about Mel?” Donna asks, wiggling her eyebrows playfully at the two of you. You let out a chuckle, saying, “She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”

Donna laughs with a smile, “Yeah, but I just kept thinking, all this time, you’ve never mentioned her.”

The Doctor addresses Donna with a frown, “Donna, we’re a billion years old. If we stood and talked about everyone we’d ever met, we’d still be in the TARDIS yapping.”

“So you talk about no one ever?” Donna asks, and you look away guiltily. Donna continues, “You just keep charging on.”

“Yes, because I’m busy. Like now,” the Doctor replies.

“But you are busy every second of every day. I mean, look at us now. We haven’t stopped,” Donna points out, and you all come to a halt by the sidewalk. She continues, “I saw you, Doctor. I got a glimpse inside your mind.” The three of you stand on the sidewalk, surrounded by the ambient sounds of 1925 London, as Donna expresses, “And it’s like you’re staggering. You are staggering along. Maybe that’s why your old face came back. You’re wearing yourself out.”

You observe as the Doctor contemplates her words, his expression revealing a momentary reflection on her insight. However, he doesn't directly acknowledge them. Instead, he smoothly shifts the topic, saying, "Stooky Bill might be on Frith Street, but the question is, where did Stooky Bill come from?”

His gaze shifts to the bright red shop on the street labeled Mr. Emporium above the store. The three of you cross the street, anticipation building as you peek through the window. There, you spot someone engaged in a playful exchange with the Doctor, both figures playing peek-a-boo before the mysterious man expertly hops down to conceal himself. The Doctor's expression tightens with anger as he forcefully shoves the door open, pulling back the maroon curtains, and the three of you step into the enchanting toy store.

The atmosphere is filled with wonder and a touch of nostalgia as you take in the whimsical surroundings. Shelves adorned with a myriad of toys, each telling a story of childhood innocence and imagination. The air is scented with a mix of wooden toys, plush animals, and the faint fragrance of freshly painted models.

As you step further into the store, your disbelief intensifies as you recognize the man orchestrating this peculiar encounter. An old foe, one who could have channeled his creativity for good, yet chose to warp reality into a twisted game where play meant suffering for others. Dressed in a crisp white button-up and a vibrant red apron, he skillfully juggles three balls, his voice carrying a distinct German accent as he addresses you, "Die ball is die first game ever being invented."

He throws a ball towards you, only for the Doctor to swiftly intercept it before it makes contact with your stomach. Without missing a beat, the Doctor tosses it away onto the ground. Meanwhile, the man behind the counter continues his mesmerizing juggling act, sharing his narrative, "Stone Age man, he picked up ein rock." The Doctor catches another ball skillfully, and with a nonchalant toss, sends it away.

The rhythmic cadence of his speech, accompanied by the mesmerizing flow of his juggling, weaves an enchanting atmosphere within the toy store. The balls dance through the air, tracing whimsical patterns, adding a touch of magic to the man's storytelling. With a gleam in his eye, he continues narrating, "He said, ‘Oh! Das ist ein Ball.’"

The sequence of throw and catch becomes a rhythmic ballet, each movement a beat in the peculiar symphony unfolding before you. "He threw it, und he killed a man," he declares with a dramatic flair, followed by a nonchalant toss.

Another cycle of throw and catch commences, and he recounts, "He said, ‘Oh, what fun!’" The balls move effortlessly in the air, and the ambiance resonates with a sense of playfulness.

"Und now, everybody loves the balls," he proclaims, the balls gliding through the air in a mesmerizing display. Every throw, catch, and toss adds to the building tension in the tale.

"Until the year five billion. When the very last human picks up the skull of his enemy," he declares, the tone shifting slightly, yet maintaining the captivating rhythm. The balls continue their dance, and he winks as he concludes, "Und said, ‘That is the final ball of all,’ jah?"

As he tosses another ball, the vibrant atmosphere in the toy store takes a sudden turn when Donna, with a determined air, steps forward and effortlessly catches the ball with a single hand. Her gaze, firm and unyielding, pierces through the whimsical scene as she asserts, "Enough."

The man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Donna Noble. I wondered which one of you had the balls," he retorts, his words carrying a playful undertone. Donna, taken aback, attempts to brush it off with a casual, "Okay. So you know my name?" The man, still smirking, raises both eyebrows in response.

Curiosity sparking, Donna seeks answers. "How do you three know each other?" she questions, her tone holding a mix of suspicion and intrigue. In response, the Doctor, donning a low, stern tone and a deep frown that accentuates the lines on his face, issues a command, "Star, Donna, go back to the TARDIS." The urgency in his voice hints at a deeper concern, urging them to retreat from the unfolding confrontation.

Donna, wearing a perplexed expression, seeks clarification, "What?"

The Doctor, frustration evident in his gritted teeth, reiterates his command, "Go back to the TARDIS."

You, however, defiantly shake your head. "As much as I love you bossing me around, you do not get to tell me to leave you here with him." The tension in the air thickens, with unspoken concerns lingering between all of you.

"Oh, but he is recognizing me," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whip your head back to the man behind the counter, the one who revels in tricks and games for sheer amusement. Chaos and discord personified, he continues, "Are you not 'ge-pleased,' Herr Doctor und Stargazer, to see me again after so many years?"

Donna, finally seeking clarity, asks, "Who is he?" Flashbacks of memories flood your mind.

The Doctor answers, "The Toymaker." As the realization sinks in, the atmosphere in the room starts to change.

The Toymaker gives a bow, a theatrical flourish that befits his whimsical yet ominous presence. Abruptly changing accents, he addresses with a menacing tone, "We meet again, Doctor, Stargazer."

But just as swiftly, the Toymaker's demeanor undergoes a shift. Stepping backward, he adopts a German accent, prompting curiosity. "But think, if the ball was the very first game, what was the second?"

With a mischievous grin, he seizes both ends of the curtain behind him and declares, "Hide-and-seek!" The Toymaker pulls the curtain shut, his laughter echoing in the room in those distinctive arpeggio notes.

The Doctor vaults over the counter, deftly pushing aside the two curtains, only to discover the Toymaker's disappearance. Behind the curtains lies a door, and with a quick turn of the copper-colored knob, the Doctor reveals a seemingly endless hallway. Warm-toned lights bathe the corridor in a gentle glow, wooden floorboards creak, and numerous doors line both sides of the mysterious passage.

As the Doctor steps forward, guided by an instinct you and Donna share, the door abruptly slams shut behind both of you. Turning sharply, the Doctor commands, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Go back.” With a quick twist of the doorknob, it should logically lead you out, but instead, it reveals the same seemingly endless hallway. Donna, her mouth agape, exclaims, “It’s bigger than the shop. Don’t tell me he’s got his own TARDIS.”

“The TARDIS is an idea the Toymaker would throw away,” the Doctor spits out with disdain as you three stride down the hallway. He continues, “We’ve stepped inside his domain, and it’s governed by the rules of play.” The Doctor turns to the door on his left, confidently opening it. Donna and you follow him, but just as the door slams shut, you find yourselves still trapped in the long, mysterious hallway.

“Okay. Keep going forward,” the Doctor instructs, stepping ahead with you and Donna in tow. Donna, perplexed, shakes her head and remarks, “But how does this even make sense? 'Cause I’ve seen some things with you two. I’ve seen Ood, Davros. I mean, the Adipose, for God’s sake.”

The Doctor twists another doorknob, taking a chance with the door to his left, only for it to transport you three back into the hallway. Donna continues, “But they had a sort of logic. Daleks built a great big bomb. I understood that. But this— this is impossible. How does it exist?”

The Doctor grits his teeth, growling, “That’s what unravels me. All the laws I cling to, gone.” He spins, opening another door only to lead you three back into the hallway. Moving to the opposite door, he finds it locked and slams his palm against the wood in frustration before pressing on down the hall.

Donna moves closer to you two and asks, “Who is the Toymaker? What is he?”

The Doctor turns to face Donna, explaining, “When I was young, I was so sure of myself. I made a terrible mistake. I let the TARDIS fall into another realm.” The Doctor opens a door, and you follow him as he continues, “A hollow beneath the Under Universe, where science is a game and all of us are toys.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. "It's also how the Stargazer ended up with us, but that's something I will never regret." You softly remark, "A rift in the universe..." The Doctor quickly kisses your forehead, saying, "And it brought me you, my love."

After a moment, the Doctor struggles with another stubborn door, wiggling the doorknob in frustration. "I beat the Toymaker. I won his game, but now he's here. He's found his way into reality."

As he opens the door to the right, leading the three of you back into the hallway, he stills and sighs. "And I think it's all because of me."

You exchange a glance with the Doctor, shaking your head in disagreement. However, before you can utter a word, he cuts you off, his gaze intense. "'Cause I got clever, didn't I? I cast that salt at the edge of the universe. Thought I could have it all," he admits, his eyes locked onto yours. "I thought I could finally have you. I played a game and let him in, an elemental force with the power of a god, and he’s driven the human race mad with a puppet.”

Donna begins, “Yeah, but you always say—” the Doctor shakes his head and mockingly replies as he walks backward down the hall raising his voice, “Oh, what do I say? What do I say? What do I say?”

“‘Cause I’m always so certain. I’m all sonic and TARDIS and Time Lord. Take that away.” The Doctor says and defeatedly shrugs, “Take away the toys. What am I?” He chokes a little as his eyes glaze over, repeating, “What am I now?”

The Doctor looks to you and Donna as he offers a variation of the truth, “I don’t know if I can save your life this time.” The vulnerability in his voice echoes through the corridor, a stark departure from his usual confident demeanor.

Donna raises her eyebrows, her gaze shifting between you and the Doctor. “It’s not about me,” she asserts.

You meet Donna's gaze and respond, “Oh, yes, it is.”

With a nonchalant shrug and a deep breath, Donna begins, “Well,” and then she steps a little forward, flashing a determined smile, “Maybe I’ll save you, you big idiot.” Through the perplexing hallway, the chatter reverberates with a mixture of warmth and friendliness as you all chuckle.

"Anyway, you beat him before," Donna points out, and the Doctor wears a contemplative frown. "That’s the problem. Odd-on I’ll lose next time."

Donna dismisses the notion with a shake of her head. "Nope. Doesn’t work like that. Because my dad used to say, ‘Dice didn’t know what the dice did last time.’ Games don’t have a memory. Every game starts from scratch."

After a moment of letting the words settle, the Doctor nods with a genuine smile. "Oh, I like that. Well said, Dad." He takes a deep breath before suggesting, "Okay. Shall we find the right door?"

The Doctor swiftly dashes to one of the doors, opening them one after the other. You and Donna struggle to keep up, the anticipation heightening. Suddenly, one of the heavy doors slams shut behind Donna, separating you from her. Then the door in front of Donna slams shut, also separating her from the Doctor, the echoes of the closing door lingering in the air. 

You sense your fingernails biting into the palm of your hand, forming a tight fist as you strike the door with the side of your fists. An exasperated cry escapes your lips as you press your forehead against the wooden door. You shut your eyes, tears trickling down your cheeks. Slowly, you lower your hands to your sides, then raise them, placing them at the back of your neck in an attempt to regain composure.

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs before releasing it in a resounding exhale. Pushing away from the door, you continue down the corridor. A distinct pull guides you to a door on the right. Twisting the knob, you pull the door open and step into a room filled with standing mirrors encased in plastic frames. As you survey the surroundings, the door slams shut behind you, making you flinch and glance back.

Turning your head forward, you're met with various incarnations of the Doctor—past and present—alongside friends and companions, all staring back at you through the mirrors. Their gaze penetrates through you. The mirrors shift, forming two opposing lines, resembling portraits guiding you towards a solitary dresser and a seat. On the creaky wooden floors, you move delicately, feeling like a doll as the eyes of your own reflections track your every step down the mirrored pathway.

You eventually reach the dresser, and the seat smoothly pulls out from underneath it. Hesitant, you lower yourself onto it, only to find that your own reflection is not what greets you. Instead, it's the Toymaker, wearing a smug expression as he says, “Ah, yes, the Stargazer. Oh, how I’ve missed you, old friend.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows, “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

The Toymaker’s expression shifts to a sour one as his face scrunches up, “We were friends, we had such wonderful games in our little dollhouse until the Doctor stole you away from me.”

You shake your head as you say sternly, “He didn’t take me away from you.”

The Toymaker childishly rolls his eyes as he also crosses his arms, “Admit it. You were happy. Happier to be blissfully unaware of who you are when we were in our universe.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes glaze over, pressing your lips, trying to steady your breathing. Softly, you spoke, “You were controlling me. You were trying to mold me into something… that had to be exceptional to be worthwhile.”

You sniff as you continue, “You never cared about me or any of it. You only wanted to play your games and win. And the one time I won… I saw your true nature and never let me out of that box.”

You gaze directly into the Toymaker's eyes, inquiring, “How? How did you end up here?”

He tilts his head and smiles, “The Doctor may have cast that salt, but that was just the door. You being here, allowing yourself to exist in this reality, my dear, you were the key. The Doctor merely provided the key, and voila. Here I am.”

The Toymaker shifts before he hums and then says nonchalantly, “Well, this was so much fun… us two friends catching up. We should do this more often.”

You narrow your eyes as you shake your head, “Don’t you dare hurt them.”

The Toymaker grins, “Well, what’s the fun in that?”

The room around you seems to blur as a heaviness settles in your chest, the weight of your choices and the consequences of your time with the Toymaker bearing down on you. The mirrors that once reflected various versions of yourself, your friends, and the Doctor now seem to mock your vulnerability.

Your face shifts to anger as you grab your sonic screwdriver, raise it to the mirror, and press the button, causing the illusion to shatter. There is no glass in the mirror because, on the other side of it, is you—freed from the false reflections that sought to define you.

You rise from your seat, hastening as the glass mirrors rupture behind you, fragments and shards soaring through the air. Grabbing the doorknob, you wrench the door open, hurtling into the hallway just as the door behind you slams shut.

Anticipating the impact of the hard hallway floor, you're surprised to find yourself enveloped in sturdy arms, the familiar texture of the Doctor’s coat reassuring. "Whoa! Darling, there you are," he exclaims.

Speechless, you encircle him with your arms, finding solace in the warmth he provides. He eases back, cradling the side of your head, and you yield to the touch, trying to ground yourself in the reassurance that you're still alive, still breathing. Life may have presented challenges, love may have left its mark, and certain experiences may have etched an ache in your soul, yet, you survived.

The Doctor scans your face and says, “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

You sniffle as you shake your head frantically, “No, I’m just… I’m sorry.”

The Doctor frowns, “What for?”

“It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

“No. I cast that salt—”

“Yes, but since I’m here, in this reality. I allowed him to exist here as well. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor pulls you in closer, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame as he asks, “Did he tell you that?”

You merely make a squeak as you nod into his chest, “It makes sense—”

“No. It’s— I refuse to believe it. I won’t.”

You began, “But—”

The Doctor pauses, his gaze softening, and he says, “No, my love. It's not your fault. Don't let his games mess with your mind. We'll figure this out together.”

You let go of your ghosts and your worries for once. It was just one step, but it said plenty. That you've been cut off from the outside world for such a large portion of your existence dawns on you. That you devoted so much of your life to a version of existence that was cut off from believing in the good and the beautiful as a means of survival, that you tried so hard to shield yourself from the love you so desperately needed.

You knew that you wouldn’t find a love that was perfect, but you found a love that was real. The kind that sees you and brings down your walls, that asks you to share parts of your soul you have tucked away and kept hidden from the world.

Suddenly, the creak of another door opening startles both of you, prompting a swift turn of your heads. Your heart skips a beat as you spot your fiery-haired friend. You exclaim, “Donna!”

“Oh, my god!” Donna exclaims, and the Doctor responds, “There you are!” As you eagerly move forward to embrace Donna, the room undergoes a rapid metamorphosis, transforming into a puppeteer theatre, with the Toymaker standing at its center.

Fanfare resonates in the background through concealed speakers as the Toymaker speaks in German, “Kommen Sie, kommen sie!”

Three chairs materialize from behind you, smoothly rolling forward and obliging you to take a seat upon them as they advance towards where the Toymaker stands.

"The show is just beginning. Worldwide premiere," the Toymaker announces, vanishing momentarily only to reappear behind the puppet theatre at the center. He addresses Donna Noble, "This is for you. Let me tell you what happened when the Doctor, he was leaving you."

Lifting the cross brace of the string puppet, he continues, "He met a friend called Amy Pond. And he loved Amy Pond." The strings sway as he manipulates the Amy puppet. "Yes, he be liking die redheads." A playful wink is followed by, "And they went to and fro in time und space."

The Toymaker's tone darkens as he narrates, "But Amy Pond was touched by the Weeping Angel. And she died." He grabs a large pair of scissors, severing the strings of the puppet, rendering it limp and lifeless.

The Doctor's expression turns grim and angry as he grits his teeth, "She died of old age."

Quickly shifting to an American accent, the Toymaker mockingly remarks, "Well, that’s alright then."

Continuing in his vibrant German accent, the Toymaker orchestrates the descent of a new puppet onto the stage, "Und then he was meeting Clara. Mmm." He adds, "But she was killed by a bird." Another snip of the strings leaves the puppet limp and lifeless.

The Doctor growls, "She still survives in her last second of life."

"Well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker replies in his mocking American accent.

The Toymaker continues in his vibrant German accent, placing another puppet on the stage, "Und then the Doctor met Bill." Strings are pulled as he continues, "Not Stooky Bill, but lady Bill. But she was killed by the Cybermen." With a snip, the puppet falls to the floor, lifeless.

The Doctor's lip trembles, jaw set, as he asserts in a raised tone, "But her consciousness survives."

"Oh, well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker retorts once more in his mocking American accent. He then transitions to a new scene with stars and planets descending, connected with strings. Cutting the strings, he comments with feigned remorse, "Und then there came die Flux. Oh, Donna Noble, the poor Doctor." The Toymaker continues to sever the strings attached to the planets, remarking, "Die Flux was killing everything."

"Is all of this true?" Donna asks in disbelief, leaving you frozen and unsure of what to do or say.

The Doctor abruptly stands up, his gaze locked onto the Toymaker's eyes as he lowers his tone, the gruffness evident, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's expression drops, his nostrils flare, and he strides toward the table. The Doctor meets him at the other end, and they lock eyes, a tense silence enveloping them.

The two of them settle into seats across from each other as the Toymaker mysteriously conjures a deck of cards. In a refined British accent, he declares, “I accept the challenge.”

The Doctor retorts, “You have no choice.”

With an air of a magician, the Toymaker skillfully shuffles the deck of cards, his hands moving with deliberate precision. "I came to this universe with such delight, and I played them all, Doctor." The Toymaker lays down the cards in a line, maintaining his magical flair. "I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spinning tops."

He holds the two halves of the deck and continues, "I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box." Flipping the cards, he shuffles the deck, his eyes locked onto the Doctor's. "I made a jigsaw out of your history. Did you like it?"

"The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game. And when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity inside my gold tooth." The Toymaker says, a sly smile accompanying the gesture to his shiny gold tooth. However, his tone turns grave and haunted as he continues, "There’s only one player I didn’t dare face. The one who waits."

Both you and the Doctor furrow your brows, and the Doctor questions, “Who’s that?”

The Toymaker's gaze becomes distant as he recalls, “I saw it. Hiding. And I ran.”

“What do you mean?” The Doctor presses, and the Toymaker shakes his head, “Mmm. That’s someone else’s game.” Placing the deck of cards neatly on the table, he asks, “What shall we play?”

“One request. Tell me,” The Doctor starts, his tone curious, “The human race, back in the future. Why does everyone think they’re right?”

The Toymaker smirks knowingly and replies, “So that they win. I made every opinion supreme. That’s the game of the 21st century. They shout, they type, and they cancel. So I fixed it. Now everybody wins.”

“And everyone loses,” you remark, your eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. The Toymaker smiles, acknowledging the truth, “The never-ending game.” He then turns to the Doctor, prompting, “Now name your challenge.”

“The simplest game of all. Let’s cut,” the Doctor proposes, and the Toymaker grins, “Highest card wins.”

“Aces high,” the Doctor asserts.

“You choose,” the Toymaker replies.

“I’ll go first,” the Doctor declares.

Then Donna interjects, “But he’ll cheat.”

You, the Toymaker, and the Doctor quickly disagree, simultaneously stating, “No.” The Toymaker's face turns sour, offended by the accusation, “Shame.”

“That’s the one thing he won’t do,” the Doctor asserts, and Donna points out, “But they’re his cards. He’s all tricks. Of course, he’ll cheat.”

You then explain, “The only rules the Toymaker follows are the rules of the game. They bind his entire existence. The Doctor wins or he loses, and that’s it.”

The Toymaker glowers at the Doctor as he says, “Then play.”

The Doctor seizes the top deck of cards, turning it to reveal the Eight of Clubs. A sinking feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you calculate the odds, not liking the prospects for the Doctor.

The Toymaker raises an eyebrow with a smug expression, “My turn.” He grabs a portion of the deck, turning it to reveal the King of Hearts. Gripping the sides of your chair, you feel a sense of dread as the Toymaker laughs, “I’m the King.”

Switching back to his German accent, he declares excitedly, “Und now, meine kleine Doctor, we will see what is my prize!”

The Doctor responds, “One… all.”

A light laugh of relief escapes you, realizing the Doctor had a backup plan in case he lost. Leaning across the table, the Doctor's words make the Toymaker's expression drop, “I won the game many years ago. You’ve won today, which leaves us equal. And you know two players are bound by one inviolable rule.”

The Toymaker sneers as he begrudgingly admits, “Best of three.”

The Doctor nods, “Best of three.”

The Toymaker purses his lips in annoyance, narrowing his eyes before saying, “Then let’s make it 2023.” He suddenly pulls a curtain from the side, quickly vanishing as the red velvet cloth clatters to the floor. The room transforms, and you hear the creaking of wood.

Both you and the Doctor exclaim, “Donna!”

Donna has already sprung from her chair, responding, “I’m already running!”

As you run, the structure behind you collapses in on itself, the scratching and groaning of wood as it folds in the hallway. Eventually, you make it out of the shop, running into the streets and stopping from across the street to see the entire building fold itself neatly into a box on the ground.

Donna points out, "He said 2023," and the Doctor responds as his chest puffs out a breath, "Winner takes all."

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Once the TARDIS had landed, you and Donna hurriedly followed the Doctor, who carried the box containing the Toymaker's shop. As you reached the main area of operations, the Doctor placed the red box on Melanie's desk and instructed, "Keep an eye on that."

Stepping up on one of the desks, the Doctor addressed everyone in a loud tone, "The satellite was only a link in the chain, so Donna needs access to the subframe. There is no one in London faster on a keyboard. She’s creating a template for this." He produced a flash drive and explained, "It coordinates all telescopes and satellites and deep-space scans across the Earth." Tossing the flash drive to Shirley, who deftly caught it.

Turning to the Vlinx, the Doctor requested, "The Vlinx, I need all mesh reflectors on Earth translated to digital five."

As Donna worked on the keyboard, Mel replied to Donna's question, "Dynamic. We’re using triad."

Donna nodded in understanding, typing rapidly, "Got ya. Okay, so you should all be receiving this now."

"How bad is it, Doctor, Star?" Kate asked with concern. The Doctor responded with a warning tone, "Something entered this world in 1925. I don’t know how. And I warn you, this thing can get from 1925 to now like stepping through a door."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued, "But if we’re lucky, the program the Stargrazer created can detect the decay of an energy signature from 98 years ago. Might be on Earth. Might be in orbit. Might be in space. But if we can find the entrance, maybe we can turn it into an exit."

"What are we fighting?" Kate asked, and you responded grimly, "An elemental force beyond the rules of the universe."

Shirley then inquired with a puzzled tone, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor gave her a look and explained, "You think life is a balance between order and chaos, but the universe is not binary." As the Spice Girls' "Spice Up Your Life" began playing from somewhere, he continued, "Far from it. There is order and chaos, and then there is play." Pointing to the ceiling, he asked, "What’s that?"

"Could you turn that off, please?" Kate requested, and Melanie, standing from her chair, asked, "Who is that?"

The Doctor groaned, "Oh, I think he’s here."

The Toymaker entered the scene like a Broadway hurricane, dressed as a band leader with his hair curled and styled. A door suddenly appearing with the bell jingling as he strutted forward. Confetti popped, lights flashed, and the Toymaker lip-synced to the Spice Girls' song playing from an unknown location.

"When you're feelin' sad and low

We will take you where you gotta go"

The door materialized behind you, the bell jingling as the Toymaker stepped out, dancing and lifting his hat, grooving to the music. You and the Doctor stood there, unimpressed, wearing a fed-up expression.

The Toymaker, immersed in the infectious beats of the Spice Girls, continued his impromptu performance. With infectious enthusiasm, he teleported across various areas of the headquarters, seamlessly syncing his lip movements to the lyrics of the song. His dance was a spectacle of exaggerated expressions, capturing the vibrant spirit of the Spice Girls' anthem.

As the music echoed through the room, the Toymaker made flamboyant movements, teleporting next to Shirley. With flair, he held up a phone, lip-syncing passionately to the lyrics.

"Smilin', dancin', everything is free

All you need is positivity"

The Toymaker's energetic dance moves and lively expressions added a surreal touch to the otherwise serious atmosphere of the operation.

“Colours of the world

Spice up your life”

Teleporting with theatrical finesse, he continued his spirited performance, engaging with the song's upbeat tempo.

“Every boy and every girl

Spice up your life”

The Toymaker, a delightful force of whimsy, twirled and danced with infectious energy, infusing the tension-filled room with an unexpected burst of joy.

“People of the world

Spice up your life

Aah

Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front

Ha ha (uh uh)

Go round”

With each step, he appeared and disappeared, dancing effortlessly to the rhythm. In a sudden move, the Toymaker materialized next to Kate, seamlessly incorporating her into his lively dance. However, the exuberant twirl proved too much, and Kate, spun too fast, and collided with a wall.

Undeterred, the Toymaker vanished and reappeared beside Melanie, pulling her into an impromptu dance as UNIT soldiers point their weapon at him.

“Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front”

The Toymaker spun Melanie like a spinning top, prompting your alarmed cry, "Melanie!" Both you and the Doctor rushed to her aid as she tumbled to the ground, the unexpected dance taking an unforeseen turn.

"La la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la"

Kate regains her composure, brushing off her slacks with a determined air as she commands the UNIT soldiers, "Detain him!"

In response, a contingent of UNIT soldiers swiftly advances, attempting to apprehend the whimsical Toymaker. The Doctor's warning echoes in the air, “No, don’t!” However, defying the Doctor's urgent plea, the Toymaker playfully taps the soldiers, transforming them into vibrant, bouncing balls that clatter across the floor.

"What happened to them?" Kate urgently inquires, and you, wearing a grimace, shake your head, "They're dead. I'm sorry. Just stop it. Let me talk to him."

The Toymaker confidently struts down the center aisle among the stations, seizing the attention of everyone. Kate seizes the opportunity and commands the remaining UNIT soldiers, "On my command, open fire!"

"Take him out, take him out!"

Despite the barrage of gunfire from the UNIT troops, the bullets magically transform into a cascade of delicate rose petals, scattering around the office in a surreal display. The Toymaker, reveling in the chaos, gleefully glances atop a table as more rose petals dance in the air.

"Yellow man in Timbuktu

Colourful, both me and you

Kung Fu fighting, dancing queen

Tribal spaceman and all that's in between"

Undeterred, more UNIT soldiers step in, brandishing larger firearms. Kate urgently yells, "Get down!" Yet, instead of bullets, they too unleash a storm of rose petals towards the Toymaker, amplifying the confusion and chaos in the headquarters.

Now seated on the floor, the Toymaker whimsically creates a rose petal angel, moving his arms and legs in a playful display as he swims amidst the never-ending fall of petals, still lip-syncing to the song.

"Colours of the world (Spice up your life)

Every boy and every girl (Spice up your life)

People of the world (Spice up your life, ah)"

As the Toymaker gracefully walks away from the floral aftermath, he makes his exit, singing the last part of the song and forming a heart with his hands.

"Hai, sí, ja! Hold tight!"

With a resounding honk, he disappears into the floor, leaving the bewildered onlookers shaken and utterly confused about the bizarre turn of events.

The Doctor swiftly dashes forward, sliding to his knees with palms pressed to the floor in an attempt to catch the Toymaker, yet the space where he once stood appears empty, as if he were an illusion.

While Donna tends to Mel, you approach the Doctor, who rises to his feet. Kate's inquiry breaks the moment, "Doctor, Stargazer, who is he?"

Breathing heavily, you respond, "The Toymaker."

"How does he do that?" Shirley questions from her wheelchair, seeking understanding.

Ignoring the query, the Doctor directs urgently, "The Vlinx, speed up those scans. I need those results." He then turns to the group, nostrils flaring, and commands, "All of you, search the building. He’s still here. Where’s he gone?"

Soldiers take charge, securing the perimeter, while Shirley persists, "But how does he do it?" The Doctor, resolute, explains in a low tone, "If I told you he manipulates atoms with the power of thought, would you believe it?"

Shirley ponders for a moment before responding, "Is that what he does?"

The Doctor shakes his head, "No. You can’t fight him, Shirley. There’s nothing you can do."

A sudden noise interrupts the conversation—a bell tinkling. Hushing everyone, you urge, "Listen. Listen."

The ringing intensifies. Kate steps towards the automatic door leading to the helipad, and you follow suit. There, on the helipad, the Toymaker stands alone, dressed in an aviator outfit, ringing the doorbell. Kate exclaims, "Oh, my God. He’s got the Galvanic Beam." Reacting swiftly, you and the Doctor rush onto the helipad. The Toymaker sits on the chair of the Galvanic Beam, swinging it as he excitedly exclaims in German, "Achtung, Achtung! Backen Sie."

Kate, Donna, Shirley, and Mel, carrying the box, join you on the helipad along with the UNIT soldiers. The Toymaker continues, with his goggles on and his exaggerated German accent, "Oh, how I am liking this, the gun mit the laser und the bang und the boom."

The Doctor turns back to the group, urgently shouting, "Go back inside! Get back, get back!"

The Toymaker, however, dismisses the idea, insisting, "No, no, no, no, no. Every game is ge-needing an audience, ja."

Now it's your turn to raise your voice, "Get back inside!" Yet, the Toymaker, maintaining his defiance, sternly disagrees, "Und I said nein!" He takes aim at the glass higher up the building, shattering it. The team below reacts with startled cries as you and the Doctor shoot furious glares at the Toymaker.

Removing his goggles, the Toymaker switches to a British accent, calmly stating, "Now we can all have some fun."

Kate steps forward, undeterred and unafraid, confronting the Toymaker with a determined gaze. "Where are my staff? The beam had a pilot, and the armourer and the ground staff. Where are they?"

“I think they're still falling,” the Toymaker replies, and then a faint thud in the distance is followed by the sound of glass shattering.

The Doctor bares his teeth, anger etched across his face as he stomps forward and confronts the Toymaker, “I don't understand why you're so small!” The Toymaker’s face shifts into a frown, his features scrunching up as the Doctor continues his impassioned confrontation, “You can turn bullets into flowers. Think of the good you could do. So tell me why you don't!”

The Toymaker responds with resounding sureness, "You know full well this is merely a face concealing a vastness that will never cease, because your good and your bad are nothing to me. All that exists is to win or to lose."

“And you know full well that I've had many faces, containing something far more,” the Doctor begins. You inch closer to him as he grabs your hand, offering the Toymaker a compelling invitation, “So come with us. Leave this tiny world. We can take your games back to the stars. We can play across the cosmos. We can be... Celestial.”

You watch as the Toymaker’s gaze shifts between the two of you, “The Time Lords, and the Toymaker?”

You nod, extending your hand, “Infinite games.”

A moment of anticipation hangs in the air as you hope for his acceptance. However, the Toymaker's expression shifts to one of indifference as he uses the controller of the Galvanic Beam. Turning to survey London, he begins, “And yet…” The soldiers cautiously retreat as the Toymaker observes the destruction and chaos engulfing the city.

“I have fallen in love with humanity. This world is the ultimate playground. All of the sport, the matches, the medals, the gambling, and the anger, and the children shackled to their bedrooms with their joysticks and their buttons. You make games out of bricks falling upon other bricks. You are exceptional,” the Toymaker remarks, and you signal the troops to halt their advance. The Toymaker gasps, “And then there are the mind games. Oh, the dating and ghosting, the deceit and the control. You make me dizzy. I am in no hurry to leave this place.”

He swivels the turret around, a maniacal glint in his eye as he chuckles, “We can play Grandma's Footsteps.” He gleefully fires at the soldiers' feet, forcing them to hastily retreat, "And Off-Ground Touch."

“Ah! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You plead helplessly as the Toymaker, a sinister smirk on his face, persists in aiming the Galvanic Beam at your companions. He remarks, "Shooting ducks. Who's up next? The companion? The soldier? The scientist? The orphan?"

The Doctor charges ahead, bellowing and thumping his chest defiantly, "Your fight is with me!" The Toymaker directs the beam towards the Doctor, declaring, "And you owe me! One more ga—"

His words abruptly cease as the Toymaker unleashes the Galvanic Beam, piercing through the Doctor's torso. A gut-wrenching scream escapes your lips, and you desperately attempt to rush towards him, only to be forcefully restrained by Donna and Kate. Helplessly, you bear witness to the Doctor's anguished ordeal.

The Toymaker proclaims, “I played the first game with one Doctor. I played the second game with this Doctor. Therefore, your own rules have decreed I play the third game with the next Doctor.” As the beam deactivates, you extricate yourself from Donna and Kate's grasp, hastening to reach your Doctor who has descended to his knees on the ground. Regeneration energy begins to shimmer around him, and you sniffle as you cradle him close, feeling his feeble arm wrap around you.

Tears stream down your face as you murmur, "Hey, hey... I'm right here."

You sense his touch, brushing away your tears as he utters, "Hello, my sweet Stargazer... I’ve been alone for so long. Oh, how I've missed you." A resonant sniff escapes you as you reply, "I'm so sorry. For running. For leaving. For everything, I’m sorry.”

He softly hushes you, "No. None of that. It's not your fault." A wistful smile gently paints his face. "I love you." You release a sob, "I love you too."

"Marry me?" The Doctor proposes, managing to flash you a boyish grin. You can't help but emit a weak laugh, "Right now?"

"Whenever, wherever you like. Just say yes."

"You already know I’d say yes, you idiot!" you retort.

"Say it, please," he murmurs, and you nod as tears continue to fall from your cheeks, "Of course, I'll marry you. I’ll marry you as many times as you want. As many lifetimes as you want."

As the regeneration energy glows brighter, Donna steps forward, yelling loudly to the Toymaker, “He's not dying alone. You can do what you like to me. I'm going to be with them both.”

“And so am I,” Mel declares, setting the box down and approaching the other side of the Doctor along with Donna.

The Toymaker allows it, nodding, “Handmaidens.”

“It's okay,” Donna says, and the Doctor responds, “It's not dying.” Donna nods in understanding, adding, “I know. But…”

Mel smiles as she interjects, “You're going to be someone else. It doesn't matter who because every single one of you is fantastic.”

The Doctor’s eyes glaze as he feels the regeneration energy glow brighter and stronger, surging throughout his body, “It's time. Here we go again. Allons-y!”

The energy fizzles out, and the Doctor hasn't changed his face, leaving you all blinking in confusion as he lets out an, “Um.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows as Donna asks, “What... What's happening?”

Looking to you, the Doctor asks in an even more confused tone, “Could you... pull?”

With your mouth agape and wide-eyed, you inquire, “Could I... what?” The Doctor looks to Mel and Donna to his left, saying, “And you.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asks, and the Doctor blinks as stands up and replies, “Pull! Just pull each way. I don't know. It feels different this time.” The three of you begin to pull in each way, and the Doctor exclaims, “Ow! Oh.”

Regeneration surges and flares up once more, and out pops the head and shoulders of the new Doctor, number 15. You all gasp in shock, and you're the first to say, “What?”

“What?” Donna and Mel ask in unison.

“What?!” The Toymaker exclaims.

“No way,” the other part of the Doctor exclaims, and your Doctor responds with glee, “You're me.”

The new regeneration of the Doctor smiles, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he says, “No, I'm me. I think I'm really, really me. Oh, ho-ho, I am completely me! Don't just stand there, push!”

Your Doctor poses the question once more, "Do what?" to which his other half retorts, "Push."

"What— Does this work?" Your Doctor questions and the new one responds with a laugh, "I don't know."

They part ways entirely, each now clad in half of the other one's attire. Your Doctor sports the undershirt, vest, and trousers, and is left barefoot. Meanwhile, as far as your memory serves, the 15th regeneration of the Doctor is now adorned in a button-up shirt, tie, sneakers, and underwear. You purse your lips as you try to hide your smile and feel a warmth spreading out your face as you realize your Doctor isn’t wearing any underwear. You decide to pocket that bit of information for later.

A surge of joy and laughter fills the air as the 15th Doctor exclaims, "Hello!" Arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace, he moves towards your Doctor, continuing to laugh, "So good to see you! So good!"

Turning his attention to you, a broad grin decorates his face as he rushes towards you, enveloping you in a warm hug and lifting you off the ground, spinning you around. A yelp of surprise and glee escapes you, and you notice a twinge of jealousy in your Doctor's expression. However, you shoot him a look, a gentle reminder that they are one and the same.

The 15th Doctor lets out hearty laughter before addressing everyone, "Now, someone tell me what the hell is going on here."

"Excuse me. Sorry, but..." Kate begins, and Shirley interjects, "How did that happen?"

"Bi-generation. I have bi-generated! There's no such thing. Bi-generation is supposed to be a myth, but... look at me.” He chuckles and stretches as his joints crack, “Yeah, myth, myth, myth," the 15th Doctor declares with a jolly tone, turning to Mel and inquiring, "Mel, what do you think?"

Mel smiles widely as she gazes at the 15th Doctor, "I think you're beautiful."

Your Doctor furrows his brow, questioning, "Still beautiful?"

"Yeah," Mel responds.

Donna, taking in the new Doctor with a rich deep ebony skin tone, asks, "Do you come in a range of colours?"

To which all the Time Lords reply with a resounding, "Yes."

You hear the Toymaker clear his throat and begin, pointing the beam at the two Doctors, "If I can interrupt... Behold the game of the Time Lords. A dummy who dies and doubles and dies and doubles. I could play this for 100 years. I'll have vast meadows of Doctors dying over and over again, and I'll never get bored because…"

The two Doctors step forward in unison, declaring, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's face sours, and he tosses his goggles, shifting into a frown. "But there's two of you."

Your Doctor asserts, "I'm the Doctor," and the 15th remarks, "And I'm the Doctor."

Your Doctor smirks, "And according to the rules, you can't say no."

The Toymaker stammers, "But that's cheating."

“How?” both Doctors say simultaneously, and your Doctor continues, “It's your game, and you did this.”

The Toymaker is at a loss for words, stammering, "But…"

Your Doctor smiles, "You doubled us."

“So, who am I marrying then—” You interject, and the two Doctors exclaim, “Me!”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening in response. "Y’know what, that seems like an issue for later."

The Toymaker interjects, stating, "I accept your challenge." Stepping off the Galvanic Beam, your Doctor commands everyone in a commanding voice, "Get back." In compliance, everyone takes a few steps back.

“Moments like these are a joy, when someone thinks they can outwit the maker of the games. Do you think a grand total of two can cause me to shiver when I've played against the Guardians of Time and Space and shrank them into voodoo dolls? Name your challenge, Doctor,” the Toymaker says, and you mockingly yawn, eliciting a glare from him.

“You said it. The first game ever,” the 15th Doctor states, and your Doctor finishes his thoughts, “The ball.”

The Toymaker conjures a ball from thin air and declares, “Catch? Of course, before we begin, there is one thing to remember. It's a simple game, really, but I think…”

Suddenly, the Toymaker hurls the ball towards your Doctor at an astonishing speed, making contact with his chest just as he finishes his sentence, “…if you drop it, you lose.”

Your Doctor catches the ball, releasing a deep breath, “Nice.”

The ball is tossed around in a flurry. You can only watch as it keeps getting passed and tossed. Eventually, the 15th Doctor throws it extremely far to your Doctor, causing him to tumble and dive to catch it from the 15th.

Your Doctor looks at the 15th with wide eyes, his chest puffing out breaths as he exclaims, “Hey! I'm on your side!”

15th sheepishly replies, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!”

The game of catch persists, and you nervously bite your nails as you observe the trio. There are numerous extreme throws and catches, accompanied by near misses, until the 15th Doctor imparts enough spin on the ball. It glances off the Toymaker's fingers, tumbling over the building's edge.

The Toymaker pants in disbelief, beginning, "But—"

“We won!” Your Doctor asserts, and the 15th adds, “We did it. Fair game. You lost.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, the Toymaker stammers, “No, but I think you'll find…”

Your Doctor steps forward, declaring, “Best of three. And my prize, Toymaker, is to banish you from existence forever.”

The Toymaker protests, “No! But I'm... It's not…” Suddenly, he starts to flatten and fold, “You can't... But I…” Mel steps forward and brings out the box as the Toymaker yelps, “Not fair. Please. My legions are coming. Argh!” He folds up into a square and drops into the box, which slams shut.

Kate seizes the box by the handles, instructing the soldier, “Take it to the deepest vault and bind it in salt.” The soldier promptly responds, “Yes, ma'am.”

Shirley and Kate disengage their Zeedexes. Kate turns to Shirley, saying, “Shirley, tell Geneva we're in full resus. Tell every base to follow Green Shoot protocols, full liaison.” She then addresses the soldier, “Rudi, I'll want the names of all those staff.”

Your attention shifts to your Doctor, standing at the edge of the helipad. The wind tousles his brown, spiky hair as he surveys the destruction wreaked upon London by the Toymaker. Approaching him, you grasp his hand and offer, “Hey, we did it.”

“But how many died down there?” The Doctor frowns, his tone heavy with sorrow. The 15th and Donna approach, with Donna reassuringly stating, “That's not your fault.”

The 15th points out, “You can't save everyone.”

Your Doctor pouts, “Why not?”

The 15th Doctor pulls both you and him into a hug, soothingly saying, “Come here. I've got you. Yeah? It's okay. I'm here.”

As you let out a sigh of relief, exhausted to the events that occurred. Your mind wanders and you smile. This love will intimately understand you, resonating on certain levels as if it has always existed—a deep-seated yearning your soul has carried, anticipating the reunion with its heart, perpetually poised to return home to the facets of itself discovered in another being. It serves as a poignant reminder that hope can emanate from the fingertips of another human being, nestled within the layers of the uncharted aspects waiting to be unveiled.

You and the group re-enter the building, abandoning the helipad to solitude, save for a lone sentry stationed at the entrance. A faint echo of laughter seems to linger in the air, leaving you with an inexplicable sense of dread resonating from a distant place.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, SUITE 17, LONDON – DAY 2023

INSIDE THE TARDIS

You observe as the Doctor maneuvers around the console, guiding his other incarnation through the intricacies. "That's the petrolink shatterfy compensator, moved from there to there. Hyperdynes. Er... fluid links, obviously," he explains, his hands deftly pointing out the components.

Your Doctor halts abruptly, stumbling over his words as he gazes at the version of himself standing on the bridge. "And, well, you know... things. But, er... how's it going to work? You and me. This is great, I think. Is it? But... How do we both...?”

“One thing you need in this place is a chair,” the 15th Doctor remarks, and you arch your eyebrows, glancing at your Doctor, who responds, “I'll be all right.”

The 15th shakes his head, emphasizing, “No, you're thin as a pin, love. You're running on fumes.”

You and Donna both sigh in agreement, stating, “That's what we keep saying.”

“I'm just... post-bi-generation,” your Doctor attempts to justify, but the 15th Doctor interjects, “Ha! It's more than that. Our whole lifetime. That Doctor that first met the Toymaker never, ever stopped. Put on trial, exiled, Key to Time, all the devastation of Logopolis.”

“Adric,” your Doctor says with a tinge of sadness, and the 15th nods, “Adric.”

Your Doctor's expression shifts to a sorrowful pout as he reminisces about the days and tragic events. “River Song. All the people we lost. Sarah Jane has gone. Can you believe that for a second?”

“I loved her,” your Doctor admits, and the 15th agrees, “I loved her. And Rose. But the Time War, Pandorica, Mavic Chen. We fought the Gods of Ragnarok, and we didn't stop for a second to say, ‘what the hell?’”

Your Doctor shakes his head, “But you're fine.” He gestures to his newly regenerated self, and the 15th says, “I'm fine because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords. We're doing rehab out of order.”

You then gently interject, “He's saying you need to stop.”

Your Doctor shakes his head in disagreement, stating, “I don't know how.”

Donna takes a step forward, her words measured, “Well, I can tell you. Cos you know what I did when you went flying off in your blue box, Spaceman? I stayed in one place, and I lived day after day after day.”

“It would drive me mad,” your Doctor admits. You nod in agreement, stepping closer to him, your hand gently holding his cheek. “Same here. I’ll be honest, it was difficult… at first. Yeah. It does. But you keep on going. That’s what makes it special. You won’t exactly know what’s going to happen. And that's the adventure. The one adventure you've never had. Because I've... I've worked out what happened. The Flux caused a reset in the universe, no longer making my entire existence a threat to everyone. Then you changed your face, and then you found me. Do you know why?”

The Doctor is wide-eyed as you gaze into his chocolate brown eyes, and you give him a soft smile, “To come home.”

“Do you mean... he flies off?” The Doctor says as he glances at the 15th Doctor, tears welling up. “But I could never let the Tardis go. Never. It would hurt.”

The 15th Doctor approaches you two and leans against the console, stating, “Yeah, but... bi-generation has never happened before.” An idea begins to form in his mind, “What if...? What if!”

Eagerly, he dashes to the walkway, producing a 'test your strength' mallet. “What if the Toymaker's domain is still lingering? Just for a few seconds more, we're in a state of play. Oh! So maybe…”

The 15th Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, and the three of you follow after him. Shirley and Mel are waiting in the suite.

Excitedly, the 15th Doctor exclaims, “Hey! Watch this, watch this. Watch, watch, watch, watch. Stand back. Stand back. Go on, that's it, Donna. Oh! Wish me luck.”

“What for?” The Doctor asks, to which the 15th responds with a big smile, “We won the game. You get a prize, honey, and here is mine!” He swings at the side of the TARDIS, knocking a second one out. An exact duplicate stands on the left side of the original one.

“Ta-da!” The 15th shows off in a sing-songy voice before whispering to the TARDIS, “I am so sorry.”

Donna expresses with glee, “That is completely nuts,” and the 15th Doctor laughs in agreement.

The Doctor pushes the other TARDIS doors open and looks down. He unfolds a ramp, saying, “Oh, look! Oh, that's not bad. Wheelchair accessible.”

“At last! You finally caught up with the 21st century!” Shirley smiles, laughing.

“Yeah. Go on,” the 15th Doctor says to your Doctor, who steps inside to glance around as you wait outside. After a minute, he walks out, goes into the original TARDIS, and looks around. You watch as the 15th Doctor gives you a wink before stepping inside his TARDIS, and you let out a snort.

You see your Doctor exit the TARDIS and realize the 15th Doctor is missing. “Where is he? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”

You follow your Doctor as he pushes open the other TARDIS doors, saying, “You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

The 15th Doctor mischievously grins as he replies, “As if I would ever do that. Come here. Come here, come here, come here, come here.” He hugs him and kisses you on the cheek, saying, “Look after him, you know? Now, you three, if you don't mind, there is a great big universe out there calling, and I've got to get going. So off you pop, old man.”

Your Doctor shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes, “Oh. You're the old man. You're older than me.”

Donna nods in agreement, “Actually, that is true. He's younger because you came after him. So you're the older Doctor.”

The 15th Doctor rolls his eyes playfully, teasing, “Okay, kid. I love you. Get out!” He sets the Time Rotor in motion, and Donna rushes out of the TARDIS, yelping, “I'm not doing that again!”

Observing the Doctors salute each other, you hear him say to you, “I’ll see you soon.” Then the two of you exit.

Stepping into Suite 17, the group gathers as the Doctor remarks, “Shirley, I don't suppose you've seen this before. I don't see it often myself. Stand by.”

“Where's he going?” Mel asks, and the Doctor replies, “Everywhere.”

You watch as the TARDIS dematerializes, and you catch the soft whisper of the Doctor, “Good luck.”

DONNA’S GARDEN — DAY, 2023

The TARDIS is parked in Donna’s garden, a testament to the new chapter you and the Doctor were embarking on—cohabiting. Presently, the entire family savored a meal al fresco beneath the pergola adorned with wisteria in full bloom. The Doctor sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your thigh, a constant desire to connect, to be near.

“Right. The cast-iron pot is the vegan. Ta-da! And the one with the flowers is the chicken,” Shaun declares, placing the dish on the table. You hum and nod, and Shaun adds, “I think.”

Sylvia chimes in, pointing to the dish, “And this is cauliflower cheese, which doesn't really go with anything, but it was there.” Rose nods as they begin to take their seats.

Donna raises a hand, signaling for attention, “Anyway, shush, please, for the eyebrow story.”

“Oh, yes. So... this species only communicated with their eyebrows. I thought, I can do that,” the Doctor says with an unusually happy tone, a rare occurrence that visibly lifts the weight from his shoulders. He sits straighter, and with a flourish of his eyebrows, he continues the story, “So I'm stood there on this clifftop and I went... ‘I mean you no harm. I come in peace. I am your friend.’”

“Am I late?” Mel's voice breaks through, and you lift your head to see her sheepishly saying, “Sorry. The door was open. You don't mind?”

Sylvia dismisses her concern, cooing, “Oh, you're family, darling. Sit down.”

You glance at Mel and ask, “Did you drive?”

“No. I got a lift off a zingo,” Mel replies as she takes a seat next to you, prompting cheers and laughter from the group.

“A zingo!” Donna exclaims, and Sylvia smiles, “Oh, how strange.”

The Doctor continues his eyebrow-raising tale, “So, she looked at me, the Warrior Queen of the Felooth, and she said, ‘Good. And now... you will marry me.’ I said, ‘What?!’ And she pushed me off the cliff!”

Sylvia leans in over the table, asking, “But is it true, though? Is it really true?”

The Doctor looks to you, humming and shrugging, “Mmm…” You playfully shove his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek.

“We could always go in the Tardis and find out,” Rose suggests, but Shaun interjects, “Don't you dare.”

Donna sternly tells her daughter, “You are grounded until the Doctor feels better. Don't go sneaking off to Mars.”

“Again,” Rose says, and Donna goes wide-eyed, asking, “What does that mean?” She pointedly looks at the two of you.

“Oh, no. It was just once. Oh, you're in trouble,” the Doctor says, and you wince.

Mel explains, “They took me to New York last week. The Gilded Age. It was amazing.”

The Doctor shrugs, “Well, yeah. We just can't turn down my favourite niece.”

Rose smiles, “Ah! Niece. I like that.”

“Well, that's what you are. With my best friend, my brother-in-law, the evil stepmother…” The Doctor says, and Sylvia chuckles, “Oh, I have barely begun.” The Doctor continues, “..and Mad Aunty Mel.”

Mel chuckles, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

You all toast happily, exclaiming, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

The Doctor then places down his glass before lifting your left hand, now adorned with a gold band inscribed in Gallifreyan. He kisses your knuckles and says lovingly, “And of course, my soon-to-be wife.”

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. With him, you just open. The cost of staying fortified and hidden away becomes too high. With the Doctor, you lay down your arms. You let love rush in. You let it wash over you. You crack your shell, exposing your heart to this world, trusting that you are worthy of being seen there.

The Doctor then remembers, “And Grandad! Where is he?”

Sylvia says, “Oh, he's off shooting moles.”

The sound of a shotgun resonates, and you hum as the Doctor says, “Don't worry, I gave the moles a forcefield. I love the moles.”

Donna raises her eyebrows, asking, “You love the moles?”

The Doctor grins, “I love them. But here we are, Grandad and all. Who'd have thought? I ended up with a family.”

You feel the weight of his words settling in the cracks of your bones as your hearts thump in the silence. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of your head.

Shaun suddenly exclaims, “Oh, my God, I got it wrong. The vegan one is in the flowers.”

Rose groans, tossing her fork on the plate, “Urgh! What am I eating?”

“Oh... Don't worry.” Shaun tries to help. “We'll just… give it to Grandad.” Sylvia adds, “Don't make a fuss. Pass me your plate.”

Donna looks between the two of you, smiling as she says, “You don't have to stay forever.”

The Doctor glances at you, and you smile up at him, saying, “We'll see.”

“Do you miss it? Out there?” Donna asks.

The Doctor looks around, realizing he’s surrounded by love as he says, “The funny thing is, I fought all those battles for all those years, and now I know what for. This. I've never been so happy in my life.”

This love infuses honey into the core of your being; it's akin to a gentle warmth seeping into the very marrow of your bones. Witnessing how it learns about you, fights on your behalf, and remains steadfast through life's storms by your side, you're reminded of the profound connection often overshadowed by the preference for distance over depth in this world. It's a reminder that hope emanates from the touch of another, concealed within the layers of undiscovered facets. You now comprehend that love was always intended to be gentle, always meant to be tender, as evidenced by the Doctor intertwining his fingers with yours, accompanied by a bright grin. Your bones are safe, and your heart can rest assured it belongs to him. Your world transforms, cradled by the comforting embrace that is the Doctor.

“So,” Donna begins as she chews her food and swallows as he smiles at her best friends, “When’s the wedding?”

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r @nsainmoonchild @h-l-vlovesvintage @jaziona92 @1potato2rulethemall @jesssimblrorwhatever @prettyboigenius @ladygrimmx

[thearcanecat]

Hatchetfield headcanons?

Let’s see…

Holloway has lots of scars from living for centuries and hides them with the jacket. These include:

Lightning scars

Wiggly: sucker/tentacle marks

Pokey: cracks

Blinky: eye like circular pattern. Red vein squiggles at end.

Tinky: hoof print

Nibbly: bite marks

Her accent gets stronger when she’s mad. Same for Duke, but you rarely hear it.

Original name was Holly-May Logan.

The strange carving it’s mentioned she has in Killer Track, is a part of Pokey’s mask.

Ryan Reynolds is the person running against Solomon for mayor. He’s pushing the problematic pooch story because it shows how horrible the town has gotten under Solomon’s rule. You’d think the disappearance of his wife right before he got elected would be a bigger deal, but no, time for our daily Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel segment!

The Obnoxious Teen is actually different versions of Pete after an encounter with the Bastard Box. He now lives in a never ending hell of minimum wage jobs.

Grace’s birthday is September 9th, buy a priest a beer day.

The Honey Queen sacrifice takes place on the summer solstice at midnight.

Description of the tree that grew from Willabella: Gnarled roots extend from a bulbous center. No leaves hang from its crown of branches. It is not natural. Nothing grows near it, except the apples that grow for its branches, never ripe and always rotten. A hollow in the center is swarming with spiders whose web spans across it. Several scars are evident from where the Hatchetmen, once they realized their mistake, tried to cut it down. From its branches hand charms of protection and containment that replace old ones of worship. It grows behind the old Waylon Hall, over the sight of Willabella’s execution. Like the Hall, many rumors swirl around it and foolish children often dare each other to touch the bark.

The Blade of Truth that MacNamara uses on the Sniggles is one of multiple PEIP has constructed. With help from Holloway, they were able to harness the White’s energy into physical form. Each Blade requires a secret to be whispered into it as it forms, one no one has ever heard before. If someone tells a lie while holding the Blade, it shatters.

The Foster family are descended from Willabella and a Hatchetman with the last name Forester. Willabella had no love for him and only got pregnant to delay her execution.

The Stockworth family vacations in Hatchetfield because they have connections with the Church of the Starry children. Lucy is not aware if this.

Charles Coven was part of PEIP and went by Carlo at the time.

PEIP has ID numbers based on the Stith Thompson’s Motif Index of Folk-Literature. Basically a collection of a bunch of different motifs in folklore.

Wilbur: D1310.10.1. Magic apple gives supernatural knowledge.

Holloway (Holliway this identity): G220.0.1. "Black" and "white" witches. Malevolent and benevolent.

John: B147.2.1.2. Eagle as omen of victory.

Xander: J1291.2. Theological questions answered by propounding simple questions in science.

Douglas Keane Sr. was an informant for PEIP. Basically, PEIP goes around to various people in professions where the supernatural may be encountered (law enforcement, medical, park rangers etc.) and gives them a little presentation with very vague language about if they seen anything unnatural, or out if the ordinary, to give their office a call. Since Hatchetfield is such a hotspot, Douglas knows a lot more about the supernatural than most informants do and is on first name basis with several PEIP agents. (This is heavily based off a book called The Rook by Daniel O’Malley.)

[charmedreincarnation]

Hi charm. Your posts have helped me lots! Im keeping consistent for once and understand the law and shifting properly. My question is that I’ve been trying to considerate my understanding and application of states and A+P. This sounds stupid but I go back and forth and try to apply them, but the debates about them don’t make sense to me. I think rn I reinstate more with states but some I do prefer to just affirm and I’m just curious on which one you “preferred” and how you applied that to shifting. Thanks 😊

I think it really does depend. I love the law of consciousness, and under that really anything goes. But for me personally, I really do think there’s a point of no return when it comes to A and P and states. Just in my experience, feel free to believe and do what you like. First and foremost, your beliefs are more important in your reality. But I feel like everyone says that so often. If you don’t understand that, it's not really my job to coddle anyone at this point 😭😭 everyone is their own god and that’s the most important thing to understand.

But I started my journey back in 2020 when I was 16, and I manifested so much with mirror work and affirmations because I didn’t know about the law, and honestly I barely knew anything about manifesting either. I was only a shifter. And all my shifting friends, not on Tumblr, who shifted pretty easily and I consider "master shifters" (not that it exists or matters), honestly didn’t get into LOA either. They just affirmed (but used LOA, by knowing they’d wake up in their desired reality without knowing). Ever since then, they don’t gripe in the community because sometimes ignorance rlly is bliss. If I was in 2020 and stuck with that, I would have gotten everything so easily. But looking back, somethings happen for a reason because the desires and drs I wanted at 16 are nothing like the life/drs I want and have right now. I’m so grateful I struggled for a bit; it was a blessing in disguise 😭😭😭.

Around that time, I hated LOA because I talked about this in a different ask, but my favorite master shifter on Reddit (I’m an OG Reddit girl) who brought LOA to Reddit eventually left because she claimed she thought she was mentally ill, and shifting is psychosis. So I hated Neville and LOA for a while, which is so funny, because what did he do? I also didn’t like states because none of my shifting friends knew about that, and all shifting was just knowing and affirming. I wanted to do that too, not live in my head or whatever I understood states as.

I obviously eventually learned about LOA properly and learned so much about the "mechanics" and origins and over-consumed, just like a lot of you guys. When I tried to go back to A+P, I struggled so much because I really did believe in states. I thought about my horrible childhood, but how I got through it was knowing and believing in magic and my eternal happiness. From ages 9-14, I was a very happy and lucky child despite my circumstances and depression, because I was in the state of someone who had it all. I always knew life was more than what we can see with our eyes, so really, I knew A+P wasn’t really what was working, it was my state. But I refused to admit that for a while and got mad when my affirmations stopped working (that’s what I mean by point of no return).

Also, my shifting friends are using states, and when I started asking them about it, they started talking learned about their methods and how they suceeed easily. Most of them used some variation of SATS without knowing and music to fulfill their inner man and know that, regardless, they’ll wake up in their desired reality. So I started doing the same, and that’s how I manifested my first shift.

But everyone is so different. Like look at all the success stories. Some people just use science and logic with lucid dreaming steps. A lot of people in LOA now didn’t even use LOA to manifest at first or get into the void or whatever. Some people shift without knowing or by accident, etc., etc. The point is understanding states helped me because that’s the type of person I am; I like knowing the mechanics behind the seemingly magic. But maybe you don’t, maybe you don’t care about states, you know they’re behind everything but don’t care. That’s all good too. I don’t care how anyone achieves or understands the law to get their dream life, as long as they’re not spreading misinformation. The law is about you and understanding what fulfills you; you don’t need to follow debates to fulfill yourself.

A lot of people feel very strongly about their beliefs because it’s what helped them achieve their dream life, so they’ll die on hills for it. And I honestly get it; that’s how you feel about shifting. So I really don’t like when people try to dunk on it or like "debunk it." And that’s how everyone feels for their beliefs; it’s the human in us, we feel strongly about our passions. But don’t let people make you feel bad about your beliefs. Sometimes Tumblr can get like middle school-esque with the labels and drama, but again, it’s a good reminder that no matter how godly you are, we still have our human shell, and that’s oddly comfortable to me so I don’t care that much tbh. Just do you girl, at the end of the day it’s your happiness that matters

[astra-ravana]

Aleister Crowley Quotes

A selection of my favorite quotes by Aleister Crowley.

✡"Ordinary morality is for ordinary people."

✡"The way to mastery is to break all the rules, but you have to know them perfectly before you do this; otherwise you are not in a position to transcend them."

✡"The whole and sole object of all true Magickal and Mystical training is to become free from every kind of limitation."

✡"If you are 'walking in darkness', do not try to make the sun rise by self sacrifice, but wait in confidence for the dawn, and enjoy the pleasures of the night meanwhile."

✡"It is a thousand times better to make every kind of mistake than to slide into the habit of hesitation, of uncertainty, of indecision."

✡"You can only accomplish your object in life by complete disregard of the opinions of other people."

✡"Remember that the Ego is not really the centre and crown of the individual; indeed the whole trouble arises from its false claim to be so."

✡"The joy of life consists in the exercise of one's energies, continual change, the enjoyment of every new experience. To stop means simply to die. The eternal mistake of mankind is to set up an attainable ideal."

✡"The soul is beyond male and female as it is beyond Life and Death."

✡"Magick is the science and art of causing change to occur in conformity with Will."

✡"Balance every thought with its opposition. Because the marriage of them is the destruction of illusion."

✡"Modern morality and manners suppress all natural instincts, keep people ignorant of the facts of nature, and make them fighting drunk on bogey tales."

✡"The key of joy is disobedience."

✡"It is necessary that we stop, once and for all, this ignorant meddling with other people's business. Each individual must be left free to follow his own path."

✡"Astrology has no more useful function than this, to discover the inmost nature of a man and to bring ot out into consciousness, that he may fulfill it according to the Law of Light."

✡"The Universe is Change: every change is the effect of an Act of Love; all acts of love contain pure joy. Die daily! Death is the apex of one curve of the Snake Life: behold all the opposites as necessary compliments and rejoice."

✡"I do not want to father a flock, to be the fetish of fools and fanatics, or the founder of a faith whose followers are content to echo my opinions. I want each man to cut his own way through the jungle."

✡"I slept with faith and found a corpse in my arms on awakening; I drank and danced all night with doubt and found her a virgin in the morning."

✡"There is no law beyond Do What Thou Wilt."

✡"Karma does not act in this it-for-tat way. An eye for an eye is a savage justice, and the idea of justice in our human sense is quite foreign to the constitution of the Universe. Karma is the law of cause and effect. There is no proportion to its operations. Once an accident occurs it is impossible to say what may happen; and the Universe is a stupendous accident."

✡"Science is always discovering odd scraps of Magickal wisdom and making a tremendous fuss about its cleverness."

✡"One may go mad if one took the Bible seriously; but to take it seriously one must already be mad."

✡"The sin which is unpardonable is knowingly and wilfully to reject truth, to fear knowledge lest that knowledge pander not to thy prejudices."

✡"Paganism is wholesome because it faces the facts of life..."

✡"To read a newspaper is to refrain from reading something worthwhile... The first discipline of education must therefore be to refuse resolutely to feed the mind with canned chatter."

✡"I was not content to believe in a personal devil and serve him, in the ordinary sense of the word. I wanted to get hold of him personally and become his chief of staff."

✡"Dreams are imperfections of sleep; even so is consciousness the imperfection of waking.

Dreams are impurities in the circulation of the blood; even so it's consciousness a disorder of life.

Dreams are without proportion, without good sense, without truth; so also is consciousness.

Awake from dream, the truth is known: awake from waking. The truth is: The Unknown. "

✡"I cling unto the burning Æthyr like Lucifer that fell through the Abyss, and by the fury of his flight kindled the air.

And I am Belial, for having seen the Rose upon thy breast, I have denied God.

And I am Satan! I am Satan! I am cast out upon a burning crag! And the sea boils about the desolation thereof. And already the vultures gather, and feast upon my flesh."

✡" To Hell with sentimental altruism, with false modesty, with all those most insidious friends, the sense of guilt, of shame- in a word, the 'inferiority complex'."

✡"Knowledge is really confined to experience."

✡"Sex is the sacred song of the soul; sex is the sanctuary of self."

✡"A single ego is an absurdly narrow vantage point from which to view the world."

✡"All souls eternally exist, each individual, ultimate... That shall end never that began. All things endure because they are. Do what thou wilt, for every man, every woman is a star. A star is an individual identity; it radiates energy, it goes, it is a point of view. Its object is to become whole by establishing relations with other stars. Each such relation is an event:it is an act of Love under Will."

✡"Magick is the art of life itself."

✡"A Man who is doing his True Will has the inertia of the Universe to assist him."

✡"The first condition of success in magick is purity of purpose."

✡"Do not imagine that art or anything else is other than high magic! - is a system of holy hieroglyph. The artist, the initiate, thus frames his mysteries. The rest of the world scoff, or seek to understand, or pretend to understand; some few obtain the truth."

✡" Keep on acquiring a taste for what is naturally repugnant; this is an unfailing source of pleasure."

✡" Chaos is Peace… Blackness, blackness intolerable, before the beginning of the light. This is the first verse of Genesis. Holy art thou, Chaos, Chaos, Eternity, all contradictions in terms!"

✡"Light illuminates the path of humanity: it is our own fault if we go over the brink."

✡"I seem to remember asking myself if I was insane, and answering, ''Of couse I am - sanity is a compromise. Sanity is the thing that keeps one back."

✡"Belief is the enemy of knowledge."

✡"...the sole test of music is its power to exalt the soul."

✡"I became an entirely different animal. In fact, I've often thought that there isn't any "I" at all ; that we are simply the means of expression of something else; that when we think we are ourselves, we are simply the victims of a delusion."

✡"Shallow thinkers always seem to be obsessed by the stupidity that if anything is a shadow, dream, illusion, it ceases to exist."

✡"Slay anger, strangle sorrow, and drown

despair;

Then a joy shall be born which is beyond

Love or hope,

Endurable, incorruptible.

Come heaven, come hell!

Once the Balances are adjusted,

then shall the night pass away,

and desire and sorrow vanish

as a dream with the breath of morning."

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/10/2024

someone adopt this little orange man from me in Houston TX! more details here!

listening

the 1991 Ella Mae Morse compilation Capitol Collectors Series is the official driving-cats-to-the-vet album bc it is so mellow but still fun. this album has previously been featured several times in tuesdayposts but i think you should all listen to it again.

seven thousand three hundred days IS a long long time to sleep ur so right ella

-

reading

two different works that annoyed me: Emily Hamilton's The Stars Too Fondly. my first clue should have been that this is my least favorite poem, bc ppl would quote it to me smugly after my mom died. im sure they thought they were being so super comforting to a budding astronomer, but, much like how i can no longer eat lasagna bc ppl gave us Twenty! Party! Size! Platters! Of! Lasagna! after my mom died (they would just Appear on our front porch, frozen), too much of this poem really soured me.

i had this book on hold Forever and then delayed delivery twice bc i have not felt like reading lately. here's the publisher's description:

In her breathtaking debut—part space odyssey, part sapphic rom-com—Emily Hamilton weaves a suspenseful, charming, and irresistibly joyous tale of fierce friendship, improbable love, and wonder as vast as the universe itself. So, here’s the thing: Cleo and her friends really, truly didn’t mean to steal this spaceship. They just wanted to know why, twenty years ago, the entire Providence crew vanished without a trace. But then the stupid dark matter engine started all on its own, and now these four twenty-somethings are en route to Proxima Centauri, unable to turn around, and being harangued by a snarky hologram that has the face and attitude of the ship’s missing captain, Billie. Cleo has dreamt of being an astronaut all her life, and Earth is kind of a lost cause at this point, so this should be one of those blessings in disguise that people talk about. But as the ship gets deeper into space, the laws of physics start twisting, old mysteries come crawling back to life, and Cleo’s initially combative relationship with Billie turns into something deeper and more desperate than either woman was prepared for. Lying somewhere in the subspace between science fantasy and sapphic rom-com, The Stars Too Fondly is a soaring near-future adventure about dark matter and alternate dimensions, leaving home and finding family, and the galaxy-saving power of letting yourself love and be loved.

should be catnip for me, right? wrong. starts out as a chat fic, which i hate.

i had a lot of trouble finishing the first chapter, which also has an extended third-person omniscient narrator flashback in italics, a thing i also hate. i KNOW you can figure out how to integrate this information into the book in a better way instead of dumping it in my lap.

i think part of why this is not hitting like i wanted is the tone, because i think this veers more new adult than i was really hoping for. i think introducing a big group all at once is very hard to do effectively. i do not like a series of character introductions that feel like they are trying to sell me action figures. or perhaps blind-bag figures. i do not like a six-deep list of cheesy puns about someone's name. i do not have the patience to see if this debut novel finds its footing a little later on, though i am glad a sapphic ghost in the machine romance exists in this world.

i also read dean motter's mister x (both the original late eighties through early nineties run and the 2008 follow-on).

let's yoink the description from wikipedia:

Set in Radiant City, a dystopian municipality influenced by Bauhaus and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, the series concerns a mysterious figure who purports to be its architect. His radical theories of "psychetecture" cause the citizenry to go mad, just as he did, and he takes on the mission to repair his creation. To accomplish this he remains awake twenty-four hours a day by means of the drug "insomnalin", all the while coping with a Dick Tracy–like rogues gallery and supporting cast including his long-suffering ex-girlfriend Mercedes. (ed note: the redhead in the santa beard below)

the art in this comic book is really and truly stunning. everyone was firing on all cylinders. beautiful retrofuturistic advertisement vibes, very fun play with panels and word balloons while still being readable, there are airships, you know how it is. looooooooove a hardboiled noir.

the Concept of mister x, this horrible awful futuristic city that grinds its citizenry up and spits them out? both figuratively and sometimes literally? love it!!! love a great wounded beast of a city as a character!!!

unforch the "who is mister x" subplot does not resolve in a satisfying way, imo. there's a lot of flip-flopping, there's a lot of options, he ends up being (maybe?) someone he was very definitively proven NOT to be in an earlier issue, and it really soured me on the whole experience. and also i don't believe it! that specific person makes no fucking sense! who mister x is, is by far the least interesting part of the series. tell me more about how he's fixing the city. show me more of the city. shut up and dance, robot artists

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watching

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, dir. Singer). this movie did not need to be two and a half hours long. appreciated the EXTREMELY divorced energy from charles & erik though, quicksilver rescuing the school scene was also very fun. my bestie's husband has informed me we are NOT watching Dark Phoenix, i'm not sure if we're going to loop back and watch the ??? number of wolverine films or if we're going to see how i feel about deadpool. bc i find this character insufferable through clips only.

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playing

there is a feature in the video game genshin impact to turn your World Level (TM) down in order to make overworld enemies a little easier. i am at seven out of nine bc i genuinely can't finish the boss to unlock world level 9, and i am finding some of the overworld enemies too hard at 8 and want to finish the achievements in a more relaxed fashion.

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making

this is going to be a lot of previously posted pics so bear with me.

saturday morning/saturday evening. plants? repotted. porch and stairs? swept. old wasp nests? knocked down. different mirror on the porch to go out to the curb when i have the energy? yes. also a giant slab of engineered stone from the top of a dresser but that's out of frame.

speaking of the giant broken dresser that was in my apartment when i moved in just over a year ago, i ripped it apart with a crowbar and threw it in the dumpster. put my pretty zebrawood desk in the empty space and started thinking about what to hang on that wall. the wall across from it is maps, bc i think a cozy office should have lots of maps and it makes a good video conference background. maybe this will be the dedicated cowboy nonsense wall. i did so much dusting and vacuuming and mopping and the girls can't even hang out in here bc the orange boy is in the office bathroom. big sigh.

also a lot of driving around and emailing and calling thirty shelters and rescues figuring out how to get this orange man a home. please take this orange man off my hands.