#her name must also be egg related ive decided

[boarloved-art]

[ID: a page of sketches of lan wangji and wei wuxian from mo dao zu shi. The largest is a chest-up drawing of wangji smiling fondly at a miffy plushie, with a tag hanging off its wrist with a red heart. above his head is a small sketch of wei wuxian looking at the miffy at a stall and saying 'holy shit its perfect'. In the bottom corner, there is a shelf with a Little Apple donkey plushie, and a miffy plushie side by side, below this is wangji and wuxian looking at the shelf. There is also a chibi headshot of wangji and miffy with the words 'best friends' written around them. end ID]

remembered i could draw whatever i want and thus the comfort character has comfort character'd

[emm-jayy]

unexpected (iv) -Spencer Reid

Summary: everything is blurred as Spencer tries to find you

warnings: drug and alcohol use, gunfire

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

gif not mine

All Spencer could see was white, all he could hear was ringing. He’s not sure how long he was on the ground for, but as soon as he can, he scrambles to his feet. Spencer turns his head every way he can, looking for you.

~

Yesterday

You and Cameron speed away from the warehouse. You sigh, wind running through your hair as you let it down. Your face might still slightly burn from the slap Hunter had given you, but the cool air of the car makes it feel better.

You had decided to go to Cameron’s apartment before tonight, he lived with a girl, Skylar, that you were good friends with. Well, she had been your partner on a number of jobs, so you had grown close that way.

You pull up to Cameron’s apartment, he throws his keys to you, and you walk up the stairs to unlock it. The apartment was simple, nothing too fancy. Personally, you didn’t have an apartment. You didn’t want anything that could possibly be traced back to you. Sure, Cameron didn’t use his own name, but there were still other ways it could be traced.

You say hey to Skylar, her red hair was down, and she was sporting a septum and eyebrow piercing. You flop down on the couch, graciously taking a drag of the cigarette she was offering. “What have you been up to?” You ask, misting referring to ‘business’ related stuff.

“Hunters happy with me, I've gotten a lot of Cloud Nine onto the streets. And, I found a way to increase profit with it.” Skylar says, smirking. There was a rumor Skylar was sleeping with him, but you knew that wasn’t true. Hunter was too stuck up and proper for that.

“Nice one Sky.” You say, holding your hand up for a high five, and she complies. You see Cameron go over to the fridge, searching for some form of alcohol and/or food, when his phone rings. He sighs, answering with a hello. He turns to you after a moment, mumbling a “yes.” then after a minute, he hangs up.

“We have another job.” Cameron says, closing his phone. You sigh, “What is it?” You ask, a look of disappointment on your face.

“You’ve gotta call your FBI buddy tonight.” Cameron states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You obviously didn’t think that you would have to speak to Spencer ever again. You thought that in a few years he would be a ghost of a memory, but you could still revel in the touches you shared.

“Why? What do I have to say?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. Cameron looks at you, slight regret in his eyes.

“We are going to burn down NorthGate Plaza.” He says, and shock fills your body. Noctiphany had never done something so major before. This was a huge step up for the publicity of the organization.

“Why do I have to call that agent?” You ask Cameron. “To get his team there. Boss wants a lot of cops and publicity to show how easily we can get away.” Cameron explains.

You look to Skylar, and then a smile forms on your face, “As long as we can get black out drunk after.” You say, a small laugh coming from you. Cameron rolls his eyes, and agrees, “You’ve gotta call him around 9.” He says, and you nod. You need something to do for the remaining four hours, so you spend that time watching shitty soap operas, and eating horrible, but somehow delicious food.

Your heart is racing at 9. You knew that you would hang up the disposable cell phone before Spencer could even respond, but it still filled your body with anxiety. You had what you were supposed to say written out on the table, a time and place. You dialed the number, and held the phone to your ear. You don’t even wait for a greeting before delivering the message.

“9:00 pm, tomorrow, at NorthGate plaza. Be ready, Princess.” You say, and hang up the phone as quickly as you can. The nickname had just slid off your tongue, a cursed reminder to Spencer about the times you had shared, a reminder of the betrayal he felt.

A chill ran down your spine, something that often happened before you began to cry. You set the phone down, and clear your throat, “C'mon guys, let’s go celebrate.” You say, clasping your hands together. Cameron and Skylar smile, and you all head out the door.

You have to enter the bar from a door in the back, and you must know the password. Cameron knocks on the door the specific way, and tells the bouncer the password. The door opens, and you take in the scene. The bar is dimly lit with warm toned lights. You can smell the stale beer and liquor in the air, it wasn’t necessarily the best smell, but you had associated it with good memories.

You tell Ben, the bartender that was usually working, your order of Jack and Coke. He nods, and begins to make it for you. You take it graciously, and turn back to your friends. Skylar has a slick smirk on her face, and you question it.

“I know that look Sky, what do you have?” You say, copying her smirk. She pulls a bag out of her pocket, and you recognize it as Cloud Nine.

You roll your eyes, “Just give me a half.” You say. While you did want all of your problems to float away, you didn’t want tomorrow to be all hell. In fact, you had never actually tried Cloud Nine for that reason. For the work you did, you needed your mind to be sharp. Given the events that had occurred recently though, you decided to give yourself a break.

You down the pill Skylar gives you, impatiently waiting the 15-20 minutes it takes to kick in. You stir your drink, and talk about Cameron’s latest job he was on. It was only whenever you got out of your chair to order another drink, when you realized the effects. You feel as though you are walking on nothing, and you begin to giggle.

The 80s and 90s mix in the bar makes you move and sway your hips. You feel a body behind you, and it’s Cameron. You smile, jokingly moving your hips against his, and he plays along seemingly grinding into you. You hear the people around you laughing, cheering you on as you dance.

What you didn’t know is that Cameron had actually not taken any Cloud Nine, and was completely sober. Also, no one told you about the horrible come down of Cloud Nine.

An hour and a half after you took your half of the pill, you are sitting at a table with your head in your hands, almost in tears. You were ranting about everything wrong in your life, but something specific had seemed to grab Cameron’s attention.

“And that whole thing with the FBI agent, Spencer Reid.” You said, and Cameron’s ears perked up, “I know it was supposed to be a fuck and duck, but I think I’m in love with him.” You confess. You attempt to stop yourself, but the words keep coming, “I can’t stop thinking about him, and how good it felt that one time that I slept in his arms.” You sigh, this was the only time you had really confronted your feelings on the whole situation.

Skylar held your arm sympathetically, “You will get closure tomorrow.” She says, her words slurring slightly. You nod, eyes still watery.

“Come on guys. We need to get back to the apartment.” Cameron says, pulling you and Skylar up by your arms. You follow his lead, stumbling all the way into the backseat of the car. You drift in and out of sleep on the way back to the apartment. Cameron helps you and Skylar to the door, and through the living room. You chug the cup of water he gives you, and collapse on the air mattress in the living room.

~

You wake up the next morning with an awful pounding in your head. You groan, rubbing your eyes as they adjust to the light. You hear a slight laugh from in front of you, and you open your eyes fully.

“I feel like a mom, making bacon and eggs for my kids.” Cameron says, a nervous laugh falling from his lips, He moves the pan back and forth on the burner. You laugh slightly, taking in the smell of bacon. It had been a while since you had one of these breakfasts. You, Cameron and Skylar liked to have a nice breakfast before you went on a job.

You grab the cheap paper plates off of the counter, and impatiently wait for the bacon to be done. You needed something greasy after the terrible hangover you were enduring.

You could see that Cameron was sneaking glances up at you, but you decided to ignore it. You rub your head again, attempting to remember the events of last night. All you can remember is clouded vision, feeling light, and dancing provocatively against your friends.

Before you ask Cameron what happened last night, you hear Skylar walk into the room, exhibiting the same actions as you. You laugh, “Last night was crazy huh?” You say, smirking at Skylar.

“I’ll say.” She says, returning the smile. You turn to Cameron, noting his gritted teeth. “Did you end up driving us home?” You ask him, attempting to meet his eyes, but to no avail.

“Yeah.” Cameron says, finally turning to you, “After you declared your love for that FBI agent to the entire bar, I decided to take you and Sky home.” He says, shaking his head.

“Woah.” You say, laughing slightly. “I was obviously coming down from Cloud Nine. You know how emotional that stuff makes you.” You say, making slight excuses for yourself. You put your hand on Cameron’s shoulder in an attempt to make him feel better.

“Eh, you’re right.” Cameron says, a smirk ghosting his face. You laugh, “Loving a cop? A fed no less? Come on.” You add, and that brings a full on smile to his face.

“Let’s eat.” Cameron says, “We have a lot of prep to do.”

~

Skylar was skilled with computers, but attempting to access files from the FBI and local law enforcement was still difficult. She was attempting to figure out how many agents would be at the plaza that night. She was trying to access phone and email records to see if they had called in SWAT teams.

“Let’s just assume that the whole nine yards is there. What do we do?” You ask, addressing both Cameron and Skylar.

“We need to make a threat.” Cameron says, “I say that we tell them that the plaza is already soaked head to toe in gasoline, and then we threaten them by lighting a match.” Cameron says, a devilish glint in his eyes. “Knowing that not even the FBI can help everyone feel safe will freak everyone out.” He says.

You nod in agreement, “But what if they think that we are bluffing, and they shoot us?” You ask, biting your thumbnail. Cameron throws his hands up, “We are just doing to have to take that chance.”

This back and forth goes on for a while. Cameron insists that Hunter needs this done a certain way, otherwise he could kick him out of the organization. It seemed as though Cameron thought he was in charge, when you knew it was your ass on the line. You had been in the organization far longer, and just because you, Cameron, and Skylar were in the same rank, didn’t mean quite a lot. You (in your opinion) were far more skilled at most everything.

Skylar stays neutral for most of the conversation, until you ask her, “What do you think?” She seems shocked by your words, not many people seemed to include her in conversations. She was more like a jack of all trades, master of none. You however, managed in stealth and secrecy. Cameron managed in planning, and financial gain. Skylar knew how to do almost everything, and you respected her for that.

“I agree with Cameron. We have to have a threat otherwise they won’t take us seriously.” She says, giving you a sympathetic look. Another thing you respected about Skylar was that she wasn’t really meant for this job either. She just took what she was given. She didn’t have to be in this line of work. She could have used her skills in many other places.

You nod, you always trusted Sky more than Cameron to a fault. “Alright, that’s what we’ll do.” You glance at the clock, the time being about 4. You groan, time passing was one of the worst things about this job. Having a smartphone was a big no. The police and FBI tracking that was way too easy. You had to watch TV and occasionally read books for entertainment. You had sometimes opted for different ways to sharpen your skills. Learning simple gymnastics and tumbling was one. Your small frame made it easy to slip through gaps. This aided in your speciality of stealth.

You flop back onto the couch, “Sky, any luck with getting into the database?” You ask, looking over at her, and she shakes her head, “I have to be extremely careful, because if they know i’m in they will trace it back to me.” She says, her voice trailing off as she types faster.

You nod, getting up to get another water bottle. Your nerves were still racing at the thought of seeing Spencer, but you were trying to suppress them. You kept trying to remember that you were dedicated to this organization. That relationships were not supposed to stand in the way of that. Yet your mind keeps drifting back to the way he held you. Could it have been love? The way his hands grazed you hips in the shower, the way his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. Was it love?

You coughed at the realization, forgetting that you had to actually drink the water amidst your thoughts. Cameron comes up behind you, patting and rubbing your back to help you regain breath. You furrow your eyebrows, he had never been this physical with you. It might’ve been odd, but you chalked it up to just a weird situation.

You needed to get ready for tonight, so you attempt to find something to wear. All black, but make it chic, you thought. One of the few things you enjoyed about the job was the clothes. Oddly enough, you enjoyed the ‘Criminal Aesthetic’.

You picked a typical all black ensemble. The gun holsters that you had sewn onto the pants were not to be used today. It was about burning down the plaza. While killing officers might bring fear to the public, they would cover it up. Burning down a public building that everyone felt safe in? That was a good plan.

You pulled on the tight long-sleeved black shirt, and the black cargo pants. You applied red lipstick with dark eye makeup. Were you doing this so that Spencer would see you and his eyes would go immediately to you? You weren’t sure.

You let your hair down as you walk back into the living room of the small apartment. Skylar sees you, giving a ‘Damnnn’ and you laugh. While you had told the feds 9, you knew that really meant 8:30. So at 8, you pile into the nondescript car, and you are on your way.

You park the car a good walk away from the plaza, and walk up to the center of it. As soon as you can hear cars in the distance, you expect Cameron to pull out matches. Instead, he pulls out a gun, “I’m sorry to have to do this Y/n.” He says, cocking the gun and pointing it towards you.

You freeze. Long enough for Cameron to put you in front of him, a gun pointed to your head. You see the black SUVs pull up, and fear rakes through your body. This is not how you thought you would be seeing Spencer again.

Spencer walks out of the car, putting his hands up. You attempt to warn him, but to no avail. Spencer, the hero he is, wants to save you. You hear the anger in Cameron’s voice, and you slip away once again, warning Spencer.

“It’s okay Princess.” Spencer says, and it’s hard for you not to smile at the nickname. Spencer begins to challenge Cameron, speaking about all the times you shared together.

Cameron spits out the words, “She wants me.” And you automatically attempt to yell no against his hand. Spencer looks at you, and you can tell automatically what he’s trying to tell you with his eyes. It’s interesting how you could do that with someone you hadn’t known for more than 2 weeks.

They say that Whenever your life is in danger, it seems like your true feelings about everything surface. In that moment, you knew your true feelings about Spencer. You knew that you loved him, and that maybe he loved you back.

Everything blurs together as you hear gunfire, and everything goes white for a moment.

~

Spencer is trying to look for you, his eyesight is still blurred. Finally, he sees you, your leg is hurt, and the man who was holding you at gunpoint is trying to pull you away.

Spencer doesn’t hesitate, he runs as fast as he can, trying to catch up to you. He finally does, tackling you to the ground. The man that was pulling you looks back, and seemingly decides that you’re not worth it. He runs off.

Spencer takes a breath, looking over your body for an injury. He sees that it’s your leg that’s injured, a bullet had hit your thigh. With Spencer’s limited medical training, he concludes that you will be fine. You will still need to go to the hospital, and you’ll need to have an agent or officer go with you. Spencer decides without anyone approving, that it will be him.

He does what he has to, and pulls your arms behind your back to handcuff them. He takes a look at your face, there is no smirk on your face this time. Just regret and sadness.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer says quietly, and you nod, understanding. He helps you get up, “How much pressure can you put on it?” He asks, and you groan at the feeling of trying to walk. Spencer, without hesitation, puts you on him and walks you to the ambulance that had arrived.

The medics take over from there, they ask if Spencer is hurt, and he shakes his head. He is zoned out, only focused on you when Morgan comes up behind him. “Are you okay?” He asks, looking at Spencer.

“Yeah, are you guys not chasing that guy?” Spencer asks, a harsh tone in his voice. From behind him, he hears a groan, “He had a getaway car. You’ll never find him.” You say, and Spencer turns to you.

“Where would he go?” He asks you, searching your face. You have a small smile on your face. “I can tell you the address of the apartment we were at, but I highly doubt they’ll go back there.” You say, and the medics lift you in the ambulance.

Spencer turns to Morgan, “I’m riding with her.” He says, matter-of-factly. Before Morgan can tell him no, he’s already climbing in.

On the way to the hospital, Spencer wanted to hold your hand. Instead, he settled on putting his hand on top of yours.

~

Spencer stands outside of your hospital room. The officer assigned outside of your room was looking at him a bit weird, but he didn’t care. He needed to be in there. To everyone else, he was conducting an interview, but there were other things he needed to get off his chest.

He finally works up the courage to go in there, telling the officer that he has this. The officer walks away, presumably to take a break.

Spencer walks into the room, and you turn your head, smiling at him. “Hey princess.” You say, but Spencer sees through your behavior.

He sees the fear in your demeanor, the regret in your eyes. The way your face falls after sentences.

He can’t help it, he turns your face, and captures your lips in a soft, short kiss. When he pulls away, you nod, “I’m sorry.” You say, tears threatening to fall down your face.

The memories of betrayal and hurt go out the window whenever Spencer sees you cry. He wraps you in a hug. “It’s okay.” He mutters over and over again. Whenever he pulls away, he gives you a sweet smile.

“I have to ask you some questions princess.” He says, pulling out a notepad. He didn’t need the notepad, he just needed something to occupy his hands so that he didn’t put them on you.

He asks you many questions, and he has to assume you’re telling the truth. You were betrayed by the organization, and seemingly your best friends.

After asking all the questions he needs to, he squeezes your hand, and gives you a bittersweet goodbye. Spencer walks out of the hospital room, and he presses his back against the door.

Your trial would be very soon, and he was terrified for the results.

~

@1800-fight-me @rachel-rebellio @itsarayofsunshine @cupcake525 @soupmakesmynoserun @elizabethkaylynn @drspencr @mattgraygubler @reid-187 @darling-doll9 @disney-dreams-world @myfavbau @softpeteparker @chaoticsteverogers @throughparisallthroughrome @whollytaciturn @imsuperawkward @pinkprinceamjoon @spenciereiddd @pinkdiamond1016 @futuremrsdrreid @aperrywilliams @pprettyboyreid @reidswords

[partnersatfazbear]

Analysis of The Real Jake (SPOILERS)

I can't decide whether to make this post a stream-of-consciousness style or group it into evidence for x... but since it's easier, I'll just write my thoughts as I go. Although a lot of this is factual ties to, say, FNAF 4, things like relating Margie to Henry are just my own headcanon and you can do with that what you will AKA don't take this all too seriously, but have fun with it. There’s also specific notes about Michael Afton, for those that just want to know what was said regarding him (presumably).

Before I start, please note I've had three hours of sleep in the last... 28 hours? IDK I can't math, especially not on this little sleep. So, there may be errors. I tried to make a note on things I was unsure about, too. 

Note: I wrote this before the Evan=CC theory was all but confirmed. Although I believe this theory from the logbook, I think a lot of these notes are still valid.

Read my notes under the cut:

Margie shares similar physical appearance to Henry: Pg 84 “The window fan blew a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair across her upper lip so it looked like she had a mustache.”

“Mrs. Afton” stand in is mentioned: Pg 86 “...it had been four years since his Mom had died...” (Jake is 9 in the story)

I notice when Scott mentions plaid. Pg 87 “...a green-and-blue plaid plush chair...” I mostly wanted to note this since canonically, Henry had a green plaid shirt.

“William” stand in is mentioned. Pg 89 “And you know he thinks about you [Jake] all the time?” “So, he has to concentrate on what he's doing... ...I don't want him thinking about me and end up shooting himself in the foot or something.” Pg 102 “Yeah, I did. [I spilled some chocolate ice cream] Right on my shirt!” Pg 122 “I did that today! [While playing a DDR like game, breaking a shoelace.]” (Admittedly, I only counted these because I headcanon William is much more of a bumbling fool than he appears. It comes up very often as you can see... although you could write it off as Evan just trying to relate to his kid.)

“William” stand in is mentioned. Pg 92 “...Margie was pretty sure Evan couldn't afford to replace a washer and dryer” and “...Evan, at his rank, could barely afford her” Pg 110 “Gillian's house shared stlying with Evan's, but hers was probably four times bigger.” (Again, I headcanon William and his family is on the low end of middle class, if not lower, in terms of income. Particularly, the house is cramped.)

“Mrs. Afton” stand in is mentioned. Pg 93 “First, Jake's Mom was killed.” Pg 139 “The mom's dead.” (You could infer that she died via something akin to a car crash in the context of the story, however if you reflect it to the games given the commonalities, I like to think of this as confirmation that William murdered her, given the word 'killed' is used.)

Margie records herself on her cell phone. Pg 93 (and on other pages) (Again referencing my headcanon for Henry, in which he records ideas/diaries often. At minimum, Henry is referred to as “Cassette Man” in PizzaSim so... I just thought it could make for an interesting comparison.)

Jake mentions his “friends”. Pg 99 “Patty and Davey... Vic... and the twins... Ellie and Evie... Kyle, Clay, and Garrett” (Also, he isn't mentioned until later, but there's his best friend Brandon, too. I noted these in reference to CC talking about his 'friends', either IRL or the plushies. I assume his IRL friends are the MCI victims. The number doesn't add up though. I really, really wanted to make a connection about the twins, considering Charlie and Sammy are twins, but there wasn't enough evidence to write it off as anything other than a coincidence. Also... Clay, really? We need another double name in this series? Ugh.)

What's your favorite flavor? Chocolate Pg. 102 “What flavor did you get?” “Chocolate. Duh.” (This is a stretch, but it did remind me of Help Wanted's final level in the main game, where you're asked to choose your favorite cake flavor. Although, they're discussing ice cream here.)

Maybe some insight into William's personality? Pg. 103 “You ever do that, Evan?” “What?” “Let off steam.” “Me? No. Steam is pretty much what keeps me going.” (Just more evidence that William is obsessed with his work. You could imply “steam” implies he runs like a machine, but that's stretching a bit.)

Pg. 113 -118 (Jake climbs out of his window to run off to play at the arcade with his friend. Obvious parallel to the child in Midnight Motorist, although it's daytime and no animatronics/fursuits luring him.) There is this, on Pg 121 also. Jake says, “We played all the racing games. I love racing games.”

PURPLE Pg 121 “...did you get a slushie at the arcade? I got one. I got grape. It turned my tongue purple.” “My tongue's purple, too!” “Purple power!” (Uh, do I really need to explain this? I should note that Evan is the one mentioning “grape”. I guess William likes grape flavor and purple.)

'Michael' is mentioned. Sort of a stand in for Michael Afton, but it should be noted that Michael and Evan are brothers in this universe. Pg 126, 127 “Michael...lived in Europe for a few years...” “Michael's a serious dude. He's, well, a little different. He's intense about making money...the way he is about it... can make him seem like he's not human.” “So, he's like a cyborg with bad programming?” Michael has some dialogue: “You must excersize caution. You could get chocolate on my suit, and that would be bad. Very, very bad.” (The very very bad thing is a running joke in the family, which is why this comes up. I don't have a lot to say about it, though. I think Michael [Afton] being obsessed with money seems a bit counter intuitive to how we know him, but who knows? I also want to note that Evan doesn't seem antagonistic towards Michael; in fact, he “hate[s] to ask him for favors”.)

Also, Pg 141 “His [Michael's] flat, gruff voice was unmistakable.” Michael is also the first one to hear his father is dead and informs Margie about it. “I have been notified that Evan's dead.” Pg 142 “She had only met Michael the one time, and she knew the way he processed the world was very different from what was “normal”” Michael also states to Margie: “I've got Evan's will... you're Jake's guardian and he left you the house and some savings. I'm the executor.” Margie also says: “He[Michael]'s a numbers genius, manages money for the wealthy people and has made a killing doing it.” “He's not a bad guy. He just doesn't know how to connect. He doesn't feel the way we do.” (Just more Michael characterization.)

Direct FNAF 4 easter egg references: Pg 128 “...the IV stand lurking in the corner of the room” Pg 129 “...and the line of perscription medication bottles marching across the top of the chest of drawers”

Margie is more than a nanny and possibly in love with Evan: Pg. 139 “She'd come to love Evan, too... like a brother.” Pg 140 “...she was included in the outings, movie nights, game nights, and storytelling time...” Pg 149 “...she wanted Evan to be more than just a boss, and being in his room when he was gone made her feel like a lovelorn stalker.” “Love him like a brother... She snorted. Boy, had she been lying to herself.” Pg 158 “What she was feeling called for a screaming fit or a total mental breakdown.” (Yeah, this is just me reading too much into this for Willry content, haha... But still. I am determined that Margie is a Henry stand-in.)

'I will put you back together' Pg 140 “I'm trying to bring you home whole.” (Evan is discussing “no man left behind” with his son, Jake. I think this is obvious.)

William's home office? Pg. 149 “When he was home, she'd go in and vacuum or put away laundry... ...when he was gone...coming in here felt like an invasion of privacy.” “Evan's room would be her room.” “...I'd feel like I was sleeping in your bed, she thought.” “...the room felt discretely masculine.” “The walls were covered in family photos.” “The shelves were stuffed with fiction... mysteries to classics, nonfiction... how-to books...from rebuilding a car engine to planting a garden.”

FNAF 4 reference. Pg 152 “Outside, a dog barked.” (You can hear a dog barking as ambient noise during nights when playing FNAF 4.)

Other notes:

It happens a lot, but one of the main things in the book is the doll Simon and how Jake talks to it. This is very blatantly a reference to the Golden Freddy Plush (“Psychic Friend Fredbear”). The story confirms it's Jake's father, Evan, talking through it. Although it makes the one scene in FNAF 4 a little wonky (the only scene where we see Purple Guy), I think it's pretty much confirmed that it's William talking to CC now. Obviously, we already suspected this due to Sister Location's “Secret Room”. In this story, Evan says he did it because he wanted to give Jake some hope he would live. Combined with both the IV/medicine bottle easter eggs (in the story and FNAF 4) I think it's plausible to assume that CC was taken home after the Bite of '83 for a period of time before he passed away. I will admit, also, that Evan definetly comes off as a very caring father (in comparison to how we presume William is based on what we've seen of him as a person; although I argued this before on this blog, I don't think William hates his kids. I think he's neglectful, moreso as the story goes on. I think he resents Michael for many reasons but I won't go into that here. I just don't think he's the abusive monster the fanbase interprets him to be—at least not early on.)

The cabinet reminds me a lot of the closets in the novel series. A built in shelf with a doll in it. A doll that represents a child. Considering Margie tends to this doll (see Pg. 130-135), I have to draw more parallels between her and Henry.

The fan is mentioned A LOT. I don't really know why, but I guess we can't help but think of every single FNAF office when it's brought up. Specifically, on Pg. 106, Margie mentions the fan in her room is as loud as a jet engine and the sound made her nervous. Once again, I'm reminded of PizzaSim. Seriously, screw you fan.

The heat is mentioned a lot, too. I know the story takes place in summer, but this did remind me of Pizza Sim.

Pg. 93 “Margie sat down in the faded blue webbed lawn chair that was set up, for reasons she never understood, in front of the shelves by the stairs.” (I noted this because it's specifically called out and I don't know why.)

Margie talks about why she's working for Evan: Pg. 95 “I didn't get the internship I applied for.” I like to think her and Mia (from 1280) were after the same internship. (I may be misremembering, but I'm pretty sure Mia mentioned an internship at the hospital.)

Jake is mentioned to have brown hair, green eyes. His favorite color is green. He also wears green often. I couldn't find anything really interesting about it. It would make more sense as a Puppet reference, tbh (because of the green bracelet (and eyes? I may be remembering wrong) I guess it's also worth noting that Elizabeth has green eyes.

Pg 135 “Are you afraid people will think you're murdering me?” “...I could end you so quickly you'd never make a sound.” (Just an odd conversation between Jake and Margie. Margie is joking here, obviously.) Also, Pg. 136 “I just figured your [Jake's] wires got crossed or your circuits were frying.” (Admittedly, I don't know what to make of this. Could be a reference to Robot-CC, if you believe that or MikeBot [I don't], but more likely just ironic dialogue. It could also reference Jake's future in the Stichwraith?)

Pg 139 “Sometimes, Margie wished she was like one of the robots Jake liked so much.” (Although I can't really compare this to Henry, I did write William with this mindset and thought it was worth mentioning.)

Pg 141+ So, Evan dies overseas (he's a soldier). (I think this could be hinting that William has been springlocked around the time CC passes away. Jake has been home for some time after his diagnosis so we can infer based on that and the easter eggs that CC was brought home to die in peace. At the very least, William's probably very absent during this time. Possibly brought in for questioning but not arrested. I don't know. I feel like there's something to this.)

Pg 154 “Dave's at work.” (Why? Can we not use established names? Aghhh)

Pg 155 “The ambulance arrived at 11:32.” (I don't know why this is stated so outright. I couldn't find a reason, except that a few paragraphs earlier they say it will arrive by noon. I don't know why it's so specific, but I felt like noting it anyway.)

Pg 159 “Five people. Five sets of eyes. And none of them noticed...” (Yeah. We all know how important 5 is in FNAF.)

Three medical personel are mentioned. One at the end is named Nancy [No Last Name Given], but I like to think its a reference to Man in 1280 and we're dealing with Heracles Hospital once more, although it's never said in this story. Speaking of, the only thing that really stood out to me in 1280's story was that a billionare funded the restoration of the hospital. I like to headcanon that was Henry's doing—I imagine him obscessing over overcompensating for his mistakes by giving back in every way possible, even if it isn't directly related to him.

So, this post only took two hours of my life. I hope someone gets some use out of it, be it for my intended Willry purposes or maybe those Michael fans that are curious about it. If you enjoyed this post, let me know. I'd love to write up more of these if I have the time.

I have other write-ups on this blog, too. Just search fnaf theories on my blog page!

[plounce]

anyway while i was browsing thru blogs i got reminded how much i like the t*ylor sw*ft song “forever and always” since my mom bought the album for us when i was like 13? 14? anyway i listened to that and since i am always ready to just sort of talk about my mother i will talk about my mother now. “ive been dying to talk about my mother!”

anyway i was listening to that particular tsw*ft song (a lyrics video on youtube because she will get NO clicks from me) and thinking about how my mom bought that album for us because she saw it was The Hot Cool Teen Girl Thing and that is yet another thing my mother presented to us in an attempt to help us fit in with the feminine majority that she has also always felt alienated from! the makeup she bought us for christmas and presented to us, but never helped us learn how to use it because she had no idea how to use it. some nail polish and then later eye shadow palettes. limp efforts because we didn’t really ask for it, beg for it, seek it out, but neither did we reject it. we just wavered in this strange place beneath culturally relevant femininity. i never saw my mother really be feminine. she was a woman, dressed like a woman, wasn’t really tomboyish or masc in any way, she was just... plain. she didn’t make a special effort to be especially feminine. her face is bare and her hair is kind of scraggly and thin and untreated and for most of my youth she wore t shirts and jeans - only in the last six years or so has she worn shirts that are a little fancier, bought things one step above. only one step! nothing really out of pattern. just one step up.

i saw my childhood best friends’ mothers dye their hair, i still see my friends’ mother dye their hair back to full luster. and it has taken me a long time to realize that that’s the normal, that’s the general normal expectation, because MY normal was my mother just sort of Existing. and it made my teenage years really hard!! i had no idea of or access to the knowledge of all the things i was SUPPOSED TO DO to be a FULLY CULURALLY GIRL! i fumbled my way through everything. my mother never really helped me or told me anything: she never told me to start shaving, but i started shaving my legs because i saw that the girls in my 6th grade pe class were, and i have fairly light body hair (outside of the concentrated areas like the brows/pits/etc) but i observed that oh, they were making their legs smooth, this is what i was supposed to do to not be A Child anymore. so i used my sister’s razors and shaved my legs, and then one day my mother and sister saw my legs propped up in the car and saw that i had shaved them and were disappointed. “you shaved your legs? you didn’t need to.” does leg hair start coming in thicker once you’ve hit puberty full force? i don’t know! i would have to look it up. but i shaved my legs, and now the insides of my shins is long dark hair. the outsides get scrubbed and rubbed by my jeans and socks, and my thighs are light. i decided not to three years ago this spring, and it’s been good, i’m glad i stopped shaving. that’s one thing my mother does, i think, but i just assumed Was, because it was invisible to me. so much of femininity and womanhood has been invisible to me, either because my mother didn’t do it or if she did she did it invisibly.

those little attempts to help us. i wonder if she feels alienated from femininity, or if she isn’t as clued in on gender theory. i wonder about my mother’s relationship with womanhood. high school was so strange for me, experimenting very tentatively with the beauty rituals while having NO CLUE HOW TO DO THEM! my freshman homecoming my mom bought a prepackaged box of makeup stuff and we both sat down and watched the video on what the fuck we were supposed to do with it all, and we both didn’t really Get It. she was a very good face-painter, for carnivals, when i was a kid, she’d volunteer. i’ve made more peace with mine in my adulthood, i’ve struck out the parts of the rituals i don’t care for and consciously performed the rituals i will do a couple times. there are some i am terrified of not doing - my hair MUST be long enough to frame my face, i have to pluck some of my facial hairs - but i’ve both grown bold enough and beaten down enough to go out sometimes with my ugly bare acne’d face. i still can’t fathom the rituals other girls put so much time and energy into as their normal. i have depression and i have my upbringing, or my lack of, besides little attempts to help us have access that never quite worked.

on another note, i got invited to drink a little bit when my family was together in nevada last weekend at my uncle dave’s, because they all like wine. my mother doesn’t drink. my father is a wine guy and likes wines from the willammette valley and has a glass of wine with dinner. my mother doesn’t like losing control, doesn’t like not having control of herself. i can relate: i’ve decided i can only drink when i am with people i am utmost, utmost comfortable with, and anyone who isn’t there with my comfort zone get one drink out of me before i realize i can’t stand acting like the person i am constantly trying to beat into shape, into normality. but i decided to let myself be cajoled into having a drink with family, and uncle dave asked me what drink i like, and i answered that i really only like mike’s hard, or other fruity drinks that are meant to taste of something sweet and not alcoholic. so he made some crystal light and put some vodka in a tumbler and i had a drink, and it didn’t do much to me, because i didn’t want to have much more than one, didn’t want to be anything but the least drunk of the people drinking out on the patio. it tasted fine. the next day they bought me some actual mikes hard at total wine when we did a little shopping but i went to bed early because i had (have!) a cold and it was making me so sleepy and exhausted. i just never drank, also because i think they put them out in the shed and i didn’t want them enough to request them without being asked. honestly that’s how a lot of my life is: i don’t want things enough to actively pursue, i settle back and watch and i make sure that yes, it isn’t out of line if i ask, and being asked raises my interest level anyway. i wonder if that’s the chicken or the egg: if i’ve trained myself to not desire or if i just have a very high threshold for desire.

anyway when we were in costco this afternoon, my mom asked me what i thought of “dave’s hard lemonade” as we’d called it. i said it was ok, i didn’t really taste the vodka except for a couple “oh, THERE’S that slight taste of nail polish remover.” then she told me about how she doesn’t like vodka - reminds her - that’s what her mother (my grandmother) would always drink - with tang. TANG? i said, to add to the repartee, GROSS! apparently she’d leave the half empty glasses all over the house, and vodka just brings my mother back to those glasses, the smell of them.

i have the faint knowledge that what killed my grandmother was old age, but the damage to her liver didn’t help. that’s really it. in all her ramblings of the Stories of her past she never talked about drinking - but that wasn’t the important part of her life. again i bring up the time my grandmother’s memory slipped and wavered and she replaced my mother with my sister in a story, and i and my sister were sitting there, and i told her no, who’s my mother, and she was confused, and eventually i went out to the driveway, to my mother’s car, where she was sitting and reading or maybe working on something, and i cried, and she said it’s okay, it’s alright, i’m used to it. or something like that. she was okay with it. amanda says she is still cut up about her relationship with mamu, but i don’t know if it’s as much as she thinks it is. i think my mother is where i get my dispassion from. amanda knows more than me about all this, but i am more like my mother than my sister is, which would have made child me very frightened and scared, to have that comparison be on me.

ever since sweet aggie made those tweets about “my mother: you! you made me like this! and then you find out about your grandmother: ah. you are mother fucker?” that’s how it is! i am always thinking about this, before and after, but yes! again, i think my mother tried to help us gain access to the normal woman culture because she never had access to it, because mamu was an older foreign woman and SHE was raised by a woman who treated her poorly because she was her stepdaughter. i don’t know my step great grandmother’s name. god, how do i not know that, she is why i am like this!

i wonder if my mother feels bad that she wasn’t able to grant us access, or if she’s ok with us being a little odd. girls who grew up with noses in books and visits to museums and quarries and no model of femininity in our real daily lives. that sounds pretentious but i am distanced from mainstream culture and it’s difficult sometimes, it is a difficult youth to go through. i think there are good points but there are enough insufferable nerds, i don’t need to go over them. i’m glad she demanded we try to answer her teaching leading questions all the time, how she tried to enrich us. i am grateful. there were positive things she did. she didn’t get it perfect, who can, but the flaws in my upbringing loom heavy over me. ok, no, some things are flaws - my untidiness in this house, my probably poor eating habits, my dispassion for friends in the physical private spaces - but while my lack of feminine role model caused my troubles i don’t think it was a flaw. it was difficult in my adolescence but that’s not her fault. she didn’t do anything, she just existed, and that’s not wrong.

[masha-russia]

Excuse me but how was Rhaegar an amazing person? He left his wife and kids, annulled a marriage basically leaving rightful heirs nothing and turning them into bastards by law. He further complicated things that led to the Targaryen fall. His actions played a part in the Targaryens almost be coming extinct. Don't sound like a great person but someone who was selfish and naive. I don't get thwe worship he gets. It's undeserved.

Hi,

You are talking about the show, I was talking about the books.

About the show - I am not sure that annulling a marriage turns the children into bastards. I cannot speak for the worlduilding of the show, because it is very inconsistent and lacking of logic, but in the books King Aegon IV Targaryen tried to annul his marriage to his sister-wife Naerys, claiming that their son Daeron was fathered not by him but by their brother Aemon the Dragonknight. Princess Daenerys was already born at that time (Aegon didn’t accuse her of being fathered by Aemon), and it wasn’t mentioned that she might be retrograded to the rank of bastard if the King had his way (at the end Aegon couldn’t annul his marriage because Naerys was defended by Aemon during her trial by combat). And in European history, Eleanor of Aquitaine annulled her marriage to King Louis VII and their daughters remained legitimate (I am not very knowlegeable about history though, this is the only case I know). So it’s very likely that Rhaegar’s children by Elia did remain legitimate. In the books, I very much doubt any annulment will happen because it is a very complicated procedure. It is not possible to simply set aside a royal marriage by asking a septon.

About the books - a lot of things here.

1. You say you don’t get the “worship” Rhaegar gets - you have to take it up with Westerosi though, because they do worship him. Nobody in the novels apart from Robert ever said anything negative about Rhaegar, not even Eddard Stark (to the big dismay of Rhaegar haters lol). He is something like a legendary figure akin to Aemon the Dragonknight (not legendary yet because he died recently, less than 15 years prior to the novels, so many who knew him are still alive, but in a century he’ll join Aemon’s rank, and you can bet songs will be sung about him). Rhaegar’s harp and rubies are well-known in the popular culture of Westeros. Very different characters like Cersei, Jaime, Tywin, Jorah, Maester Aemon, Barristan, Jon Connington, and countless others only have good memories of him. Neither Oberyn Martell and Doran Martell - so Elia’s brothers - ever talked badly of Rhaegar either. One of the Freys is named Rhaegar, and people react to that with derision - how dare a Frey carry Rhaegar’s name:

I had the Freys to supper. One sat just where you’re sitting now. Rhaegar, he named himself. I almost laughed right in his face.

^ This is a quote by a minor Lord on some tiny island in the middle of nowhere, who probably never even met Rhaegar.

[…] his nephew Rhaegar [Frey], that smirking worm who wears a dragon’s name.

And this is a quote by Wyman Manderly, a Northener and an supporter of House Stark, so you’d think he’d have no reason to speak in favor of Rhaegar (with the story of him raping Lyanna being official because of Robert), but that’s how much Rhaegar was beloved. And also, although Robert’s lie about Lyanna being raped is the accepted story, no one talks about it either. As if people have difficulties believing that Rhaegar could do something like that. Barristan thinks that Rhaegar was the best Targaryen he knew beside Daenerys, and he knew quite a lot of them. He knew King Aegon V (Master Aemon’s brother) and his family, and everyone who came after him, yet Rhaegar impressed him most of all. And Rhaegar was best friends with Arthur Dayne! And Arthur Dayne is another legend-to-be.

I think Rhaegar was amazing because everyone except Robert thinks he was amazing. I don’t see why should I dismiss hundreds of positive memories from dozens of very different characters, and believe only one negative report from Robert Baratheon, a man who was not a good person (and we know it’s false, Lyanna fell in love with Rhaegar). 

Arthur Dayne! Barristan who loved Rhaegar! Tywin who said Rhaegar would have been an amazing King! Rhaegar’s reputation is unblemished, like a diamond.

2. Rhaegar didn’t “leave” or “abandon” his wife and his children. Firstly, Elia was not someone Rhaegar fell in love with - theirs was an arranged political marriage. (But even if they were in love - and they weren’t - people are allowed to fall out of love I think, no? Rhaegar was not a womanizer, he didn’t frequent brothels, for all we know Elia was his first woman. If he fell in love with Lyanna, he had the right to pursue a relation with her.) Rhaegar was away for a time, and he left Elia and his children in a safe place with all the comfort needed. Please don’t think that the Red Keep was a bad place for them. Aerys was erratic and cruel, that’s true, but he was so with everyone (Rhaegar included), and he was never violent toward Rhaegar’s family - and apart from him all the court was there, Rhaella who was nothing but lovely and Viserys who was a child and four of the Kingsguards, gold cloaks and other guards and Ladies in waiting. King’s Landing was one of the most secure places in the Kingdoms. Rhaegar obviously didn’t leave forever. He would have come back with Lyanna and their child, to raise his three children together, to prepare them for the War for the Dawn.

EDIT: I was made aware that Rhaegar left Elia and their children at Dragonstone, not in the Red Keep

As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon's turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon. With the coming of the new year, the crown prince had taken to the road with half a dozen of his closest friends and confidants, on a journey that would ultimately lead him back to the riverlands. Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell.

Elia was in the Red Keep when Rhaegar returned because Aerys must have summoned her.

3. Now, about the Others. There is a very old prophecy, made long ago in Valyria, about the Prince that was Promised, and another prophecy (probably it’s the same prophecy but we don’t know yet) that said the “Doom of Man” will come from Westeros. This is the main reason why Valyrians came to Westeros and why Aegon Targaryen decided to conquer and unite it - he and his sisters wanted to prepare Westeros for this Doom, and their family to fight it. Valyrians were sorcerers and even though much of their magic was lost with time after the Doom of Valyria, Targaryens still carried some magic within them.  Several of Targaryens had prophetic dreams (our Daenerys has them too), and I am more than sure Rhaegar had that ability as well (the tales of Dunk and Egg that GRRM was writing around the same time he wrote the first three novels feature two Targaryens with prophetic dreams, and I do not think GRRM included them in the novels randomly. I believe he wanted the readers to link it with Rhaegar).

Since the time Rhaegar was a child, he decided to dedicate his life to the War for the Dawn, and prepare himself to fight the Others. This required an exceptional amount of intelligence and selflessness. He was a child! Not an adult, not a teenager, but a child, and he chose this path in life by himself alone. How many children do you know, who upon learning that monsters or some cataclysmic event will attempt to destroy the world, say “I will face this threat and fight to protect the world”? The maturity and self-sacrifice he showed at such a young age is astounding. 

Rhaegar at first believed that his destiny was to fight the Others, and when he found out that the Prince that was Promised should be a warrior, he started to train in arms although it wasn’t somethig he liked.

“As a young boy, the Prince of Dragonstone was bookish to a fault. He was reading so early that men said Queen Rhaella must have swallowed some books and a candle whilst he was in her womb. Rhaegar took no interest in the play of other children. The maesters were awed by his wits, but his father’s knights would jest sourly that Baelor the Blessed had been born again. Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, ‘I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.’”

“Prince Rhaegar’s prowess was unquestioned, but he seldom entered the lists. He never loved the song of swords the way that Robert did, or Jaime Lannister. It was something he had to do, a task the world had set him. He did it well, for he did everything well. That was his nature. But he took no joy in it. Men said that he loved his harp much better than his lance.”

Certainly many of his decisions and actions were motivated not only by prophecies and his readings, but by his prophetic dreams as well.  

As the time passed however, Rhaegar started to believe that this Prince was his son Aegon instead of him. Maester Aemon recalls that:

“No one ever looked for a girl,” he said. “It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought … the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King’s Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet.”

And Rhaegar wanted to have three children, three dragons, to fight in the war:

“He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.” He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany’s, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. “There must be one more,” he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. “The dragon has three heads.”

And Elia couldn’t have another child - it would have killed her. We don’t know yet what made Rhaegar choose Lyanna - he discovered that she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree  (that’s how they met), kept her secret, and they communicated for a year after that before eloping together. It may be that he saw that Lyanna was a warrior woman and thought that their child would be a great warrior too. It may be that he saw her in his prophetic dreams. Or it may even be that during their communications he let her know about the War for the Dawn and Lyanna chose willingly to help. We will discover more about their relationship in the next two books - there is much we don’t know still, including the reason for their disappearance.

Whatever the version though, Rhaegar’s actions were absolutely not selfish and naive. All he did, he did it to save the world. It was the right thing to do. He couldn’t possibly know that Robert’s Rebellion would happen, no more than he could know that Tywin would order Gregor Clegane to kill his children by Elia. Rhaegar’s actions resulted in his death and the deaths of his first children, but they also directly resulted in Daenerys and Jon being born, the two main characters who will defeat the Others. Without them, the world would have been lost, so in the end Rhaegar didn’t fight in vain.

Rhaegar was exceedingly intelligent and skilled. He was a great warrior but he never liked violence. He was a talented musician and singer, he wrote and sang and played all his songs, that never failed to make people weep for their sadness and beauty. He was always kind to people, he is beloved and admired by the smallfolk and nobles alike, his memory is held in the highest regard throughout Westeros. He dedicated his life to the War for the Dawn. He had a beautiful melancholic soul. And he was the most gorgeous human on Earth. Rhaegar entirely deserves the worship he gets. 

[ajapablog]

Corona Chronicles IV and V

Two in one blogs are an indication that time has started to blur. It takes me a couple of seconds to remember what day it is. I also feel slightly unmotivated to blog because I am not sure anyone reads these and I actually had to ask a friend to read my latest posts to see if these were any good.  But I decided that I should do it for me. 

Otherwise, a routine and the sense of normalcy has started to kick in. Yesterday I sat at the desk doing work for around 6 hours with a couple of water and bathroom breaks in between. I managed to finish a 2-hour ethics and harassment training for my employers and I know now what the Clery Act is and I would know how to file a Title IX case if it ever came to that. So that’s work done! I still have to do my taxes!! 

In the evening yesterday, we ordered Mexican food and started watching Netflix’s latest offering: The Circle. The show has some really interesting characters trying to make it to the end of an experiment where people are eliminated based on interactions between each other through social media. These characters are in isolation so it definitely mimics our current state. This is indeed the time to watch shows about social experiments about isolation. The show Love is Blind is also pretty amazing.  Today began with an hour-and-half-long group work out session. We began with the first fitness test in something called insanity workout. The bald instructor keeps saying “boom boom,” so I have decided to affectionately name him uncle Boom Boom. I was almost  going to faint at some point in the middle of our fitness/cardio training so I am utterly out of shape. I haven’t swam in 3 weeks now. Then we moved on to pilates with a cheery lady who I haven’t had the chance to name yet. But she can talk non-stop while doing some pretty intense work-outs. I aspire to be like her. We ended with some self care yoga that left us feeling warm and fuzzy. As my roommate says, we still might have 2 years worth of pent up energy that needs to be spent. So the workouts will continue.  Grooming in times of Corona My scratchy throat is so much better; my stomach is also fine. I think it might have just been a case of not being conscientious about what I was eating. I am too scared to drink coffee. I have been eating more fruits. Although, a part of me is scared that I will soon run out of papayas and I definitely do not want to go out to get some more. But eating more fruits is good for the skin.  Speaking of which, I have not been great at maintaining a skincare routine since my mid twenties. I know how to but I haven’t been regular. A part of the problem is the fact that I don’t have the usual tools: surprisingly, I don’t have a mud face pack, aloe vera gel or rose water (things I always had at hand in my 20s). I ordered a vitamin C serum, some tea tree oil, a face pack and a cleansing brush on amazon to start a routine. There is no question of going swimming or to the gym but I’ll keep my legs smooth and shaven for myself, thank you very much. I plan to tint my hair with some henna that I bought ages ago. I’ll crack an egg in there, add some black tea and some coconut oil. The last time I did this hair routine, my hair was glowing. 

Grooming in the time of social isolation is  important because it is a reminder that we must take care of ourselves, for ourselves. It doesn’t matter if we can’t show off our silky hair and our painted nails to the world. We do, however, have to live with ourselves and it definitely helps if we look nice. 

In the News Younger Adults Make a Big Part of Covid-19 Hospitalizations in the US  The idea that young people with healthy immune systems will ride this wave has been in circulation for a while now. But the New York Times has a report that says that young people are indeed being hospitalized and have been grappling with the virus. The number of deaths among young people is lower than for the elderly but that doesn’t discount the fact that young people do indeed show symptoms of this coronavirus infection that lands them in the hospital. All the more reason to be cautious. See: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/18/health/coronavirus-young-people.html

Japanese Flu Vaccine Effective Against Coronavirus The Japanese-developed drug, to fight the latest strain of the influenza virus, Favipiravir or Avigan, has proved to be effective against a milder case of Covid-19 according to Chinese medical personnel. They say that the drug doesn’t do much to the more severe symptoms but the fact that it can be effective against milder symptoms is a welcome news. See: https://www.livescience.com/flu-drug-could-treat-coronavirus.html An Indian Cure? There have been news that Indian doctors in Jaipur made a cocktail of retroviral (HIV) drugs, influenza drugs and swine flu meds that cured an Italian patient of coronavirus. The fact that the antidote to this Covid 19 situation lies in the tweaking of existing antivirals, is highly probable. I know retro viruses and corona viruses are different but given that retroviral drugs have been used to “cure” something as tough as HIV, I wonder if there’s something about using these on corona viruses. What is slightly disconcerting to me is the fact that the international news has no coverage whatsoever of the happenings at Sawai Jai Singh hospital in Jaipur. I wonder if the West is not taking seriously the fact that Indian doctors are very likely to be able to treat patients with Covid-19. This is not coming from a sense of pride over South Asian know-how but from the experience of seeing the superiority of Indian medical personnel more generally from having lived in different countries in the course of my life so far.  See: https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/jaipur/city-docs-cure-corona-patient-with-hiv-drugs/articleshow/74584859.cms

Do not take Ibuprofen if you have Covid-19 symptoms Apparently, Ibuprofen is not the drug to take to relieve fever or pain symptoms related to Covid-19. The advice in the public sphere came from the French health minister, Olivier Véran who instructed everyone to take acetaminophen instead. NSAIDs apparently made symptoms worse. From the different things I’ve been reading, it seems like this disease has something to do with the inflammation-oxidation-immune systems in our body: which is pretty much every infection but if doctors could figure out the specificty of the mode through which this virus effects these interconnected systems, they could have the answer to what to do. Of course, all of this will take time. For now, I won’t take my favourite painkiller: Flexon—a beautiful cocktail of paracetamol and ibuprofen, if I feel feverish or feel pain. See: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/17/health/coronavirus-ibuprofen.html

Women fare Worse than Men in Epidemics and Pandemics The social scientific community has been talking a lot about how the pandemic and the practices of social isolation has the effect of reconstituting older social hierarchies. This is the case with gender as well with women having to stay in abusive homes, having to rely on men, do more labor, etc. See: https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2020/03/feminism-womens-rights-coronavirus-covid19/608302/

The Sky is Falling: Says a NY Doctor A New York doctor wrote that she might sound alarmist but the case is worrying and as a medical personnel who sees life and death situations everyday, this moment is particularly panic-inducing. She says that she is not confident about the medical profession and the infrastructure to be able to take on the surge capacity of this pandemic. She says that there will in two weeks arise a situation where doctors here in the US will have to make life or death judgements. Her insistence that we must be careful is important. See: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/19/opinion/coronavirus-doctor-new-york.html

[iosihexa]

petals for your efforts

ao3 link

warnings: none

ship: dan / phil

wordcount: 1757

extra stuff: tiny trace of pastel dan, dreaded 2nd person POV but according to a few people i pull it off In A Manner That Is Readable, soft, high school setting (ish), i recommend reading on ao3

You catch your first glimpse of him – the real him, you think, or at least a part of him that is a little more raw – at the far end of an overground station platform. Granted, you’re perhaps a bit more than distracted given the dismal weather, everything feeling blurry and a little too bright against the glary pale grey of the clouds, but. He’s there. And he looks miserable, clutching what looks like a delicately wired flower crown with sad, wet petals between his fingers.

For a brief moment, you’re highly tempted to wax poetic about his hands, because they’re beautiful, but there are other issues at hand.

“Hey,” you begin, and wince because you absolutely did not think this through. “Dan, right? Doing alright?”

He stares back at you, hair curling slightly from the moisture – he must straighten it every day, you muse – and then promptly looks back down to his shoes. “Hello, Phil.”

The two of you aren’t really in the same friendship circles. You have been vaguely aware of Dan since the beginning of the school year, but it’s a whole new experience to see him out of uniform and wearing – well.

“That colour looks nice on you,” you comment, gesturing vaguely towards the pale pink jumper he’s wearing, and squint, leaning closer to the little design in the centre of the shirt. “Is that an egg?”

He looks at you again, and you’re satisfied to note that he looks happier now, if a little amused. “Yes. Sunny-side up, so the egg’s name has been delegated Sunny. Also, thanks,” he surveys your own attire carefully, “your, uh. Subtle selection of black clothing is pretty neat, I guess.”

A nervous laugh manages to escape you lips as you gesture towards the flower crown still grasped gently between his fingers. “Can I take that? Perhaps it’ll be good to have some colour on me for a little while. I’ll return it on Monday at school?”

He looks surprised, to say the least. You blame the general concept of toxic masculinity and also the fact that he probably thinks you are the strangest, most uncouth person to have ever interacted with him.

Nonetheless, reaches up and places the flowers in your hair, and studies you evenly. “Looking good,” he says, and winks, and you think that you like him a bit.

DAN: look im just saying but you have to get your priorities straight WATCH THE CLASSICS FIRST god I cant believe you havent even watched fmab yet PHIL: Ok, ok, but sometimes I can’t help but go into the weird obscure things my friends recommend me, you know? PHIL: like it’s not like I know any better PHIL: anyways fine!!! I’ll watch your weird animes. But you have to read that novel I recommended to you. DAN: if it’s along the same lines as a john green novel phil i swear to god i’m never trusting your recs again PHIL: hey! John green’s books aren’t that bad. romance isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. PHIL: and it’s a good book, I promise. It’s exactly the kind of hipstery thing you’d like DAN: what on earth are you insinuating DAN: ok one of the protags isn’t straight I can get behind this PHIL: I can’t believe I managed to peg your interests just like that. DAN: hey, now. PHIL: Just read it. Tell me if you cry at the end :D DAN: i wont DAN: we must discuss this book when ive finished reading on saturday

Your mother is probably extremely glad that you’re getting out of the house of your own accord to meet up with friends for once. Or just a friend. Singular. You’re not about to admit it, but you’re very ready to see Dan in soft, colourful, non-school related clothing again.

He’s sitting in the very corner of the café you agreed to meet at, hunched away over what looks like a milkshake, and you take the opportunity to admire the robin’s egg blue of his shirt, and the demeanour of calmness he seems to have cast over himself, still reading the book you lent him. It’s just starting to sprinkle as you make your way into the shop and order.

“Hello,” you say, and he looks up and his smile stretches across his face languidly, dark eyes making contact with yours – he seemed awkward with eye contact the first time you talked to him at the station those few weeks back, but now it’s fine.

You curse the existence of involuntary physical responses as you heart beats a tiny bit faster, because it’s only been a few weeks, but you do like him. You’re not in denial, just frustrated and perhaps wishing that you could have a highschool romance story like any silly romcom film you’ve watched.

“Thought you were going to abandon me, like the terrible person you are,” he says, still grinning as he pats the seat next to him. “Sit down. We have some important themes and subtextual information from within this book we need to discuss.”

He slides the novel over to you, finger tracing a few lines. “Here, see this? And,” he flips a few pages over, “this? They only talk twice in the whole book – yes, I’ve been rereading – and yet everyone is convinced they’re in love. Remind me why, again?”

You smile back, and push his hand off the book. “You’re reading into it wrong,” and from the way his gaze challenges you, you’re willing to bet you’ll have a fun discussion.

Dan leans his head back on your blanket, somehow already at ease. The late afternoon light is filtering in through the windows, casting hazy, shattered beams of sun onto the bed.

“Your room is exactly as nerdy as I thought it would be,” he laughs a bit, and reaches over to examine the cactus you have placed on your desk. “You’re absolutely the type to name your plants, aren’t you? What’s this one’s name?”

You glance over. “Alistaire the Second,” you say. He lets out his soft, quiet laugh, the one that makes you feel a little bit more intimate and as if he trusts you.

“Of course,” he mutters quietly, then stares at you, not for the first time today. “Let’s paint our nails.”

“Our- what?”

He seems almost disappointed. Almost. “My sister let me take her collection of polishes, and I figured since I’m sleeping over, we should do cliche teenager sleepover things. And, since all the stuff boys are probably supposed to do during sleepovers are a lot less interesting than, say, gossiping about dudes and painting nails, we should do this.” He looks nervous for a moment. “Unless you don’t want to. We can put on a movie whilst we do it though, that’d be cool.”

Nodding vigorously, you set up your laptop and he brings out a suspicious number of glass bottles from his bag, looking a little relieved. You examine his array of colours, laughing a little bit. “Fluorescent yellow, a dodgy shade of mauve, this awful olive colour - this is quite a selection.”

He just does his grin again, and holds up a nice, bright, RGB colour wheel-worthy shade of blue. “This one for you. Actually,” he says, pushing another few bottles forwards, “you can have a rainbow.”

You end up playing Mulan in the background (Disney never fails), and he paints each nail on your left hand a different, horribly bright colour. In turn, you paint all his nails a wobbly black, except his pinkies, which he insists are painted a nice, glossy white. He wiggles his hands in front of your face. You have the urge to lick his hand, just because it’d be gross and maybe annoy him a little bit.

“Piano hands, Philly,” he says, and you look down at your own nails, which have very wobbly jobs as well.

“Uh. Vaporwave unicorn hands, Danny,” you reply, and he does his soft laugh again. Your gut clenches, and you decide you have to tell him before you regret staying quiet for months and months.

“Listen, D-”

“Oh yeah, heck,” he interrupts, jumping off the bed. “Look here, I got you a flower crown, I nearly forgot. We don’t talk about my favour for pastel clothing much, but you seemed to like the one I gave you at the train station a few months back, so you can have this.” He’s holding out a different crown, with slightly smaller roses on it, petals stained pink and orange and looping neatly with a few small leaves. “You don’t wear enough warm colours. Look, even your room is just blues, greens, black and white.”

“Thanks, Dan,” you say, almost whisper, and slot the flowers on your head. There’s a wash of fizzling happiness that rushes over you, and then you steel your nerves, pausing the film. “Listen, Dan,” you start again, and he looks ridiculously concerned for you, a tenebrous expression that you want to wipe off his face and replace with warmth again.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing super terrible. Although I guess it depends on how you take it, but…”

“Oh, come on, Phil, you’re not allowed to keep me in suspense like this,” he jokes, wavering.

Your brain just a one-eighty and you collapse back onto your pillow. The flower crown is dislodged slightly, flipping back and resting against the headboard. “I can’t do this,” you groan, and stretch out your hand. “Here, take it.”

“What?”

“My hand. hold it.”

Silently, he acquiesces. “Um, Phil-”

“Look,” you say, staring at the ceiling fan, watching it spin lazy circles above you, “I kind of fancy you. In, yeah, that kind of way. I don’t know, but I like you a lot, so I guess that’s that. I mean,” you mumble, beginning to ramble, “I know you’re my friend and you probably don’t- ah.” You’re cut off by Dan flopping down next to you, lacing his fingers with yours.

“It’s alright, Phil.” he says, flicking your head. “I think you’re pretty neat too,” and he gives your hand a squeeze. You think about how nice you thought his hands were when you first saw him at the station. Outside, the summery orange tint of sunset has darkened into a shadowy navy, and the sky flashes white and blue with lightning, a thunderstorm carving patterns of rain down the window. “No kissing till the third date, though,” he teases.

You can accept that.