#i cannot explain the idea in full because my thoughts are incoherent

[emily-mooon]

I finished watching Over The Garden Wall about ten minutes ago and now I cannot stop thinking about Jonathan and Will getting into the same situation.

[heartpascal]

i screamed and cried you got exactly what i was i was thinking but also so much better in my ask about if the door wasn't shut, it's like you're inside my brain. but i have more thoughts since you said you liked them :)

also this is my second time typing this out bc my phone died when i went to send it the first time, so if you get this twice that's my bad😭

but you're so right, i just feel like after everything along with all it took for her to truly feel settled, she wouldn't be able to leave like that. especially not without someone else influencing her to, whether that be actively or passively. but imo, in addition to joel, a big part of why she wouldn't leave is because tommy left, and she wouldn't be able to bring herself to leave maria too

and tommy leaving is so stuck in my head because you're so right(this whole thing is just me agreeing with you😭) that would be so crazy for her. because tommy was there and he knows what that was like for r and joel on both ends. so for him to leave after all that? i actually think in a way it'd be worse than when joel left. because obviously r was hurt and angry with joel, but she gets to a point where she can start to understand why he did what he did and bridge that with the fact that it was okay to feel how she did, and work on reconciling that with joel. but for tommy, that base hurt/anger mixed with grief? and on top of him leaving maria and his kid, and r's own guilt, and everything else like. it would just all be too much. because how can you move past that even when he does come back? their relationship would be forever changed more so than it obviously already is. it's devastating and tragic i'm literally foaming at the mouth i need to write essays about this

obviously she goes with jesse and saves him and everyone comes home safe and okay🥲😭

no but fr i know i'm stuck on the idea of her staying behind, but it's breaking my heart so bad. bc part of her probably did feel like she should go, so she's already going to feel some type of way after she doesn't. but it would just ruin her when jesse doesn't come back. i feel like she'd be stuck for a while on how could she have let him go, and how could she have stayed behind, and how could the rest of them let this happen, when really it wasn't in any of their control. i could sob about it.

dina and her raising jj together means everything to me your mind is so powerful. i need several full length novels about it full of feelings😭

anon i cannot TELL YOU how much i love this and you. YOU MAKE MY DAY!!! i love love LOVE hearing your thoughts it feeds my own fr :’) and omg 😭i’ve only gotten it the once but i feel for you </3 having to type all this out a second time omg

you are so incredibly correct like i cannot even explain. please excuse me if my thoughts are incoherent i am going to do my best 🫡

tlou part two spoilers under the cut

reader and tommy’s relationship would NEVER be the same. honestly i don’t think there would even be a chance for forgiveness like there was with joel. especially because joel did have to go, he didn’t have to leave her, but he did have to go. whereas tommy??? no!!! he could have stayed. he could have done what his brother has been trying to do for YEARS and he could have let it go, for the sake of his wife and his child and R!!!!!!! tommy had so many things in jackson that he should’ve stayed for, and he didn’t. and i don’t think r would’ve been able to forgive that.

not to mention the effects on tommy’s appearance after seattle! i have always always thought that he was reasonable (to himself) for being fucking furious with ellie. because he lost everything, going after abby. he lost his wife, his friends, his functionality???, and ellie seemingly didn’t lose a thing. all the while abby got away just fine! so yeah i think his reaction, considering his state of mind, was reasonable. right? no. but reasonable? yes. BUT!!! imagine the effects of losing reader too???? not to mention how much more damage this would do to his marriage as well like ???? :( maria might have been able to forgive him, one day, but seeing what he did to r, who she sees as her own child???? NO!!!!

so yeah. tommy and reader would never be the same. i’m not sure r would even be able to speak to him again. honestly she’s going through it 😭 loses joel and then tommy and possibly jesse along with him? guys. please. she doesn’t deserve this.

i jsut cant get over it :( she just wouldn’t be able to understand what would possess tommy to leave after everything he’s seen her go through :( after everything he’s HELPED her through :( i think she would really struggle for a long time. she’s lost the only thing she had left of the childhood she never really got, and alongside it, the parent she had always thought she would never have :(

I CAN BARELT TALK ABOUT JESSE WITHOUT AOBBING AND SCREAMING AND CRYING. god. why did they do that to him.

she DID feel like she should go 😭 i think it would’ve been maria’s reassurance and support that would’ve been the only reason she didn’t go when ellie did. BJT JESSE???? he would’ve told her to stay. and she would’ve because she trusted him and she loved him and she KNEW he would come back. he wasn’t leaving her like everybody else because he would never. he had seen her through the good, the bad and the REALLY bad and he had never once even considered stepping out the door. he’s the man. he’s the myth. he’s the legend. she never gets to keep good things.

and then he doesn’t come back? ellie and dina come back to jackson, dragging a half-dead tommy behind them, and they didn’t even bring back jesse’s body. (in my mind anwyay. they were already injured as it was and just trying to keep tommy alive.) i don’t think she would know what to do with that. i don’t think she would know how to live with that. how do you carry on as if everything is fine when it’s so clearly not? jesse was the one person she knew would always come back to her, and in her mind, because of ellie and dina, he hadn’t.

so yeah. the only good relationship she would have left following joel’s death would be with maria. maria who becomes her rock. maria who leans on her and allows herself to be leaned on in return. maria who is the love of my life.

i just cant get over it. i just cant. like imagine. the devastation of jesse’s death would be unmatched. it truly would. how does one person handle so much loss? and the guilt? what does she do with that?

just thinking about maria holding r’s shoulder as she hands her the chalkboard and lets her write jesse’s name. maria hugging r when she cries over not even know when he died. maria figuring it out from the botched recounts that ellie and dina give. maria writing it on the board and holding r’s hand as she shows her.

[thescarsilivewith-if]

I appreciate that Val's very pragmatic, a planner as well as a go-getter. They saw the corruption and the taint and the misdeeds of the clergy and rather than turn away from it, the immersed themselves in it, twisted it around their fingers like twine, letting the connection grow to pull and tug, to puppeteer as needed.

I also really appreciate that Val has very, very firm boundaries and a lot of self-respect and is very open about having their own agenda? (Or at least it seems obvious from the asks/snippets, who knows what it'll look like in game.) I think a lot of (my) MCs could appreciate someone who goes "I'm helping you for X reason, that's what I'm getting out of this." because it's a lot more concrete than a nebulous "I must because you should be Monarch." It'd leave them without a "In about ten years, Val will show up and will want to be rewarded with something I cannot give." feeling.

I think what Simp Monarch Zaire would want to do with Val would be a lot of... casual emotional intimacy? Since Val needs a bit of time to warm up to physical affection, Zaire would really enjoy just sitting near them and hearing about Val's past, struggles they faced. What kind of ideas they have about the future. Or even just little anecdotes about an event which made Val smile. Or if they hit a low during their day, where they wished they could take a break. To hear Val open up to him, to talk about their hopes and dreams and fears.

To simply... exist around each other. To be honest and vulnerable around each other.

Bonus: Zaire would like for Val to pick out his jewelry and outfits to wear on certain days. It would make him feel all warm and fuzzy.

And, nsfw bit coming up:

Zaire just wants Val to tell him what to do in the bedroom and to hear that he's doing a great job at pleasing Val. Man's got a reassurance/praise kink, to the surprise of 0 people. He'd also very much like to get Val off as many times as possible, if they've got the time to spare. Few things please him more than seeing his lovers turn into incoherent messes. He'll practically glow. Maybe he'd also like to try bondage one day, with Val tying him up, once the thought doesn't make his anxiety spike because of recent past experiences.

(Sorry for not answering earlier, I kept this for a while because it was such a delightful ask to receive)

Valaahr indeed manages to be a schemer but also very direct, especially in stating what they want and in getting it. They believe it is the best approach especially in dealing with politics. If they have to threaten someone, they'll state it outright so that the consequences will be clear. If they bargain, they'll explain what they and the other party gets from it. They might omit something, once in a while, but in general they end up being quite clear in their intention while also not fully showing their cards.

You know, I think Val would like this casual time spend together a lot because for one they love talking, but this is also a way for them to get to know the monarch and feel progressively more bonded.

If Valaahr picked up Zaire's desire or he told them outright about their desire, they would leave some clothes/jewellery for the monarch to find in their room during the morning or during the day, so that Zaire can put them on. It would maybe feel too intense doing it in person, but like this they can both get what they want out of it.

NSFW

Praise kink? Valaahr will be like a bird of prey on it as soon as they take notice of it. Zaire comes undone when reassured/prompted? Val will be so full of praises and so proud for everything their lover manages to accomplish.

Zaire could even convince Valaahr to try bandage on them, but only if they know he is 100% comfortable with it, because Valaahr wants him to know that he is in control at all times

[obxfics]

puppybowl sunday

summary: you spend the day cuddled up watching the puppy bowl

pairing: john b x reader x jj

word count: 1654

a/n: i got inspiration watching the puppy bowl so... here we are lol also when tf is season 2 coming i want more motivation to write and shit please anyways enjoy (also this could technically belong to the “you against the world” universe but also... idk where it would fit lmao so if you want to imagine it like that have at it)

Masterlist

john b groaned as something woke him up. he had been deep in sleep, something he appreciated considering how many late night grocery or food runs he had to do for the residents of figure eight, when he felt someone shift as they laughed. he blearily opened his eyes to see you, sitting up with your back against his headboard and one of his arms flung across your waist, frozen with your hand clapped over your mouth. obviously you hadn't been meaning to laugh that hard.

"what are you doin' up so early?" he rasped, his voice kinda scratchy from sleep.

you smiled down at him and ran a hand through his thick hair, giggling when your fingers got all tangled up in it. "hon, it's two in the afternoon."

he lifted his head real quick and pouted when he saw that jj wasn't included in the cuddle pile. "shit, did i miss jj going off to work?"

"mhm. don't worry, though, i got some food into him and made sure he was wearing his mask. also put the fear of god into him if he didn't wash his hands throughout the day."

john b breathed out a laugh as he imagined you yelling at jj to stay safe at work. almost a year into the pandemic, and jj and john b had spent the whole time quaranting in the chateau to the best of their ability. it had been months since they had seen kie or pope in person for longer than a few minutes, and usually that was only when john b pulled up to the wreck to pick up delivery orders or when jj and john b helped pope's dad with grocery deliveries. at the beginning of everything, you had been spending quarantine with your boys since school was all online and your parents' restaurant was closed. a month or so in, however, regulations had been lifted and the people of figure eight all but demanded for them to reopen, and so you went back home to help your parents with the restaurant and to keep jj and john b safe from anything you could have possibly brought back to them.

you had practically locked them in the chateau, leaving them threatening voicemails if they even thought about going out, but as two months turned into three turned into four turned into five, you realized that the boys needed their jobs as there seemed no end in sight to the pandemic. so jj returned to his job at the country club, and john b got a job busing tables at your family's restaurant. you moved back in to quarantine with them as school started, and you spent practically your whole savings on getting a backup generator and high speed wifi for the chateau so if anything happened, you all would be good. and, despite living through a worldwide panda express, you were quite happy.

beside you, john b shifted his head to rest on your lap so he could see what you were watching on your laptop that had you laughing so hard. a smile grew on his face when he saw the puppies running around on the "football field" and jumping all over the "ref." he looked up at you and felt his chest blossom with warmth at the way you smiled at the puppies and giggled when they flopped over.

"did you really wake me up watching the puppy bowl?"

"hush up," you laughed, "it's a tradition, and you know it. 'sides, you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this as much as i am. i've seen how you and jj get with dogs. y'all may love them more than you love me."

"aw, honey, that's not true," john b cooed. "you know how much we love you. obviously i love you more since i didn't go to work during the puppy bowl, but you know, that's to be expected."

you shook your head and lightly swatted at his stomach. you knew he wasn't being serious. john b loved jj just as much as he loved you, and the feeling was mutual from jj. the three of you had a good thing going, a relationship full of understanding and compassion, and it had taken y'all a long time to get there. you all had things to work through, like jj's daddy issues, john b's abandonment issues, and your trauma from your previous relationship with rafe cameron, but you had gotten through it together, and this quarantine had actually brought y’all closer together which had surprised everyone.

“jj’s gonna be sad that he missed it,” you sighed.

“we’ll just rewatch it with him,” john b assured you. “and we can watch the old ones too.”

there was shuffling as the both of you wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position. at one point the two of you had to lunge to catch the laptop from falling to the floor, but eventually you settled in with john b curled around you and the blankets and pillows providing a sort of nest and elevated stand for the laptop. the room was filled with the soft sounds of puppy barks and whines, and your giggles when one of the dogs did something particularly cute, and john b let out a quiet sigh as he allowed himself to relax against you.

“i think we should get a dog,” you mumbled sleepily as john b clicked on last year’s broadcast. “we can add another cutie to our cuddle pile.”

there was some incoherent whining on your part before you dozed off in his arms. he did his best to focus on the puppies on the screen, but soon he too fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck. that was how jj found you two when he stumbled into the room later that night as he yanked his tie from his neck. he stilled in the doorway, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he saw the two people he loved most in the world all snuggled up together. and then he saw what was pulled up on the laptop.

“oh you assholes!”

the both of you jolted awake, your hand smacking john b in the face as you moved to make sure the laptop wouldn’t fall off the bed. john b rubbed at his eyes and turned to blink up at jj.

“hey, how was work, babe?”

jj shook his head as you rolled over and made grabby hands, obviously asking for cuddles. he put his hands on his hips and frowned down at the pair of you.

“i cannot believe y’all are watching the puppy bowl without me.”

“um... in my defense,” john b started, “they were already watching when i woke up.”

“dude!” you turned your head to scowl at your boyfriend. “jj, baby, come cuddle with us, and we can turn it back on.”

as he kicked his shoes off and rifled around the dresser for comfy clothes, jj shook his head. john b let out a laugh when he realized what he was getting at.

“no can do, babe,” jj told you, smirking at john b as he let his work shirt slide off his shoulders. “the superbowl starts soon, and we’re watching it.”

you fell back on the bed and let out a loud groan. you had been hoping the boys would be too tired to watch the football game. you lifted yourself up on your elbows and glared at the two of them.

“i am legitimately only watching your stupid sportsball for the weeknd. after that i will be passing the fuck out.”

jj laughed and wrapped his arms around you as he flopped down between you and john b. you couldn’t keep your glare on your face when you felt your cheek hit his bare chest. you had missed him all day. there were a few laughs and giggled--and a couples groans of pain--as the three of you got all comfortable on the queen sized bed. finally you and john b sandwiched jj, john b spooning the blonde boy as you nestled in within the warmth of jj’s arms.

“don’t he kiss his kid on the mouth?” you mumbled as one of the players ran out on the field.

a wheeze left jj’s chest as john b shouted his laugh out, causing you to smirk. you had absolutely no clue as to what was happening in the game, or even had any idea as to who the teams were, because like you told the boys, you were only watching for the weeknd concert, and you were getting more and more anxious waiting for it.

“wait, i thought both teams were supposed to be good. why does one team already have like three touchdowns and the other doesn’t have any?”

“honey,” john b said, attempting to hold in his laugh, “just watch and enjoy the game.”

you rolled your eyes, making jj smile fondly. “hon, how am i supposed to enjoy a game i don’t even understand?”

“do you want us to explain?” jj offered sweetly.

“absolutely not. i appreciate it, baby, but i’m too pretty for that.”

jj snickered and pressed a kiss into your hair. “of course you are, babe.”

you nuzzled your nose against his collarbone and tugged your hand from between the boys to gently scratch at john b’s scalp. a hum rumbled deep within the brunette’s chest at the action.

“i love y’all,” you whispered into jj’s skin. “even if y’all make me watch football.”

“well we love you too,” jj returned with a kiss to your cheek and john b’s arm.

“even if you make us watch the weeknd,” john b teased.

“hey! you better appreciate abel or i swear i’m moving out!”

taglist (ahaha heyyy it’s been a while so tell me if y’all want to be removed): @damndunner​ @scandalousfemale @shawnssongs​ @kikifromtheblock​ @write-from-the-heart​ @kurtsconner​ @thatjohnd​ @abbiesthings​ @heavenlymama​ @strangerthanfiction713 @alexis-marrt022 @brithedemonspawn​ @obxsummer​

[onechicagorpf]

Not A Stranger - Part 1

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)

Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. You’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED Attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…

Warnings: Swearing, some suggestive details. (Part 2 is going to be full-on smut, though!)

Read Part 2 here Read Part 3 here Read Part 4 here

You open your eyes slowly, blinking away your sleepiness. Almost immediately, a dull throb starts aching away in your head, and as you bring your hand up to massage your temples you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to get hammered on a work night.

The next time Hermann tells me to try his new tequila concoction that he’s sure won’t cause a hangover the next day, I’m going to stick a scalpel in his neck, you think to yourself.

“Fuck,” you press your palms against your eyes, trying your best to get your brain functioning. As you turn your head, you notice another figure in the bed, on his stomach facing away from you. A guy, and he’s shirtless, possibly even naked except the sheets are up to his hip. For some reason, the only things you can focus on for a whole minute are the tiny freckles dotted all across his broad shoulders. And also just his muscular broad shoulders in general, you guess.

You have a moment of peace and quiet, just laying there next to this man as the sunlight streams in through the blinds, before everything comes crashing down.

You’re supposed to be on shift today.

Why, oh why do you make such bad decisions? It’s not like you’re just a lowly intern – a first-year resident – who is just a month past med school graduation, and is barely keeping up with the rigours of being an ED doctor.

Oh wait.

You are exactly all of that!

“Fuck,” you repeat to yourself, whispering this time as the guy continues to softly snore next to you.

You decide to do the absolute mature, adult thing to do, which is to sneak out of this guy’s house unnoticed and never think about him ever again.

Okay, maybe it’s not the most mature thing, but honestly you do not have the time right now to wake him up, strike a conversation, do breakfast, and the whole nine yards. You do feel a little bad though, because when you look over, the guy seems really cute.

Dammit Y/N, focus!

First step right now is getting out of bed, sneaking out of random-cute-guy’s house, and – you look around for a clock, find one displaying 05:30 on the bedside table, shit – get to work immediately. No one tells you about how early hospital rounds begin until you’re already in med school and it’s too late to turn back, you think, as you quietly extricate yourself from the sheets and the bed.

Embarrassingly, you can’t find your underwear anywhere and after 5 minutes of searching while tip-toeing around you’re at your wit’s ends, so you just pull on your pants, put on the rest of your clothes, and leave his apartment. You thank God softly under your breath, as random-cute-guy continues to sleep through all of it, even as you slowly latch his front door closed.

A couple of minutes later, you’re in the back of an Uber, asking the driver to make a quick stop at your apartment before taking you to Med. As he drives off, you lean as far back as possible against the leather seat and sigh deeply.

“Fuck.”

***

You slip past the front desk in the ED with your head as far down as it’ll go, trying to make your way into the doctors lounge without catching anyone’s eyes considering you’re a good 15 minutes late.

“Dr Y/L/N! Thank you for deciding to grace us with your presence today!” Your ED Attending, Dr Will Halstead calls out loudly and you groan, leaning against the glass door to the lounge to open it.

“Go easy on her, last I heard from the 51 boys was that she tried Hermann’s special tequila concoction last night, and then decided to hit up a nightclub,” Maggie offers, her perfect eyebrows waggling as you hang your coat and grab your stethoscope.

“Firefighters are gossipy and if they really cared about saving lives they should’ve stopped me last night.” You grumble, swinging on your white coat. Will just shakes his head, walking in.

“Oh man, I feel like someone should’ve warned you against trying Hermann’s test drinks.” He says, and you glare at him, arms on your hips.

“Ya think?”

Maggie raises her eyebrows, laughing in surprise at your sharp response. “Is this you or the hangover speaking?” Will asks, grinning, unfazed by your grumpiness.

“Unfortunately the hangover and I are one and the same.” They laugh, and then Maggie ruffles your hair before someone comes to ask her something, and she takes her leave. Will makes a motion showing you the door and the two of you move to the ED desks.

“Alright, as your attending I need to tell you that it’s a bad idea to drink on a work night.” Will says to you as he hands you an iPad, with a patient’s charts. You start scrutinising it as he continues. “However, as a person who also used to be 20 something and an intern, I get it. Make sure you get loads of fluids in you and don’t let Lanik find out you went drinking last night.”

“Thanks,” you say, tossing a quick smile at Will before turning back to the iPad. “Okay…nasal congestion, rhinorrhea, pharyngitis and no fatigue or anorexia. Plus there’s no fever so it’s probably just an upper respiratory infection, but I can run tests to rule out the flu just in case?” You ask, and Will shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to be careful, but given that the patient’s symptoms are all weak, the fact that she’s been here for 3 hours, and that she wants to get the hell out at this point, let’s just write her a prescription for URI meds. If she doesn’t get better in a week she can come back.” You respond in the affirmative and get to it.

You’d been clearing the general flus and colds in the waiting room for about an hour when you started hearing some shouting.

You turn to the ambulance bay entrance and see paramedics rolling in a dishevelled guy, gripping on to his bloody right arm, yelling like he was actively being run over by a bulldozer. You spot K9 unit officers behind him and roll your eyes.

“It’s not a day in a Chicago ED if we don’t get some moron who decides to outrun a police dog.” You say, and Doris laughs. The paramedics roll the patient into treatment 2, but Will’s not there.

Your eyes scan the ED and spot him still at the ambulance bay door, talking to someone you can’t see, but you notice the flash of a badge and figure he’s the arresting detective. You make your way over to Will.

“Hey, Dr Halstead? If you want I can get started on the guy first - ” You begin, but you quickly freeze when Will turns around and you make eye contact with the other guy and recognise him immediately.

Oh my god, it’s random-cute-guy! From last night! And this morning…

“Y/N, this is my brother, Detective Jay Halstead.” You smile, nodding. It’s a whole Mississippi-second before what Will’s said hits you, fully.

“Wait what?!” You exclaim, eyebrows shooting up and Will frowns.

“…I have a little brother. This is him,” He says, extremely slowly, pointing at random-cute-guy, who you just cannot make eye contact with right now. You don't say anything, and just keep blinking, stunned.

This cannot be happening right now!

Will continues. “Jay, this is Dr. Y/L/N, the ED intern. She’s new; only been here about a month.”

Jay Halstead smirks, and it’s the literal most sinful thing on this planet. “Well, it’s nice to meet you for the very first time.” He drawls, and for a moment all you can think about is the way he sounded last night, his moans, his voice in your ear, his choked off cry when he came –

Will’s got a confused look on him, and you decide that this needs to stop, right now, before it gets any worse.

“I – it – uh, so the patient in 2, I can um – he got hit by a dog. Bit by a dog, sorry.” You correct yourself, shaking your head.

Fuck! Why the – just – FUCK!

You cover your face with your hands and just laugh nervously. “Okay so,” you gesture wildly towards treatment 2 and Will continues to look on with extreme concern in his eyes, “I’m just going to go. Over there. And do my thing. Stitches and…check for rabies.”

“He’s a police dog, he doesn’t have rabies.” Jay supplies, nonchalantly leaning against the nearest wall, looking very amused by everything going on around him.

“Y/N, you okay?” Will asks, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You wave him off. “I’m good, I’m good, just – tired, you know?” You try to smile reassuringly.

“Hermann gave her a tequila concoction at Molly’s last night and it made her decide to go clubbing on a Tuesday night,” Will joyously explains to Jay, whose eyebrows shoot up.

“Is that right? Where’d you go?” He asks, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. Like as if he doesn’t know the answer to that. Like as if he wasn’t also there, like as if the two of you didn’t meet at the bar, like as if you didn’t makeout on the dancefloor while pressed against each other, like as if you didn’t get into a cab and – well. Like as if.

“The Verge.” You mutter, looking down and praying for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Hey, I was there last night too!” Jay replies and you look up, see the sparkle in his green eyes and his beaming smile and you want to reach across Will and strangle him.

“Too bad I didn’t see you. At all.” You scowl, and thankfully Doris calls you and Will over to 2.

You walk in to find the patient thrashing around while the nurses are trying their best to keep him down.

“Alright let’s get restraints on him.” Will instructs, and you move to the patient’s right, trying to grab his arm. He swings at you and nearly connects with your temple; thankfully you dodge it at the last second.

“Hey, watch it!” Will shouts, and the patient starts screaming incoherently.

“Can we get some help in here?!” Doris calls out, and the patrol officers who brought the patient step in, but there’s just too much going on and stuff flying around the room that no one can get a hold of the situation.

Everyone starts talking about what they think needs to be done, whether to restrain him or sedate him or do something else entirely, but all you can focus on is the way the patient’s right arm is swinging around while his left arm is barely raising above the gurney rail. Something in your gut gives you a bad feeling as your eyes traverse up to his face and you see it – his mouth is drooping on his left side.

“He’s stroking…” Nobody pays any attention to you, partly because your voice is a low whisper. What if you’re wrong? The last thing you want to do is be the idiot intern who screamed stroke protocol just because some drunk, incoherent ran-from-a-police-dog idiot was being, well, drunk and incoherent!

The patient’s left arm sags completely, and he leans back against the pillow. Fuck it.

“He’s stroking!” You repeat, your loud voice catching even you by surprise. Everyone stops talking and whips around to face you.

“Are you su – ” Will starts, but you cut him off, quickly rattling off stroke protocol instructions.

“Get me an IV and page the stroke unit now!” Everyone snaps into work quickly, like a well-oiled machine. Someone shoves an IV pack in your hand and you immediately get a line started while Doris performs a blood draw. Will’s on the phone with Neuro, and before you know it your patient is getting wheeled away up to CT.

“Do I – uh, do I come with?” You ask, almost breathless from all the adrenaline. Will shakes his head. “I’ll go for the CT, and then pass it off to the stroke unit and neuro. You stay down here and take a breather.” He calls over his shoulder, and then disappears around a turn, but not before –

“That was a good call, Y/N.”

You nod, biting your lips. God, I hope it was. If I was too late –

“Okay, okay.” You say to no one in particular, trying to clear your head. In fact, you’re standing in a very empty treatment room right now, still breathing heavy.

“So you’re not just bossy in bed, huh?”

You groan out loud, dropping your face in your hands, before swinging around to face a very cheeky detective.

“Is this how you flirt?” Your hands are on your hips and your voice is low because the last thing you want is anyone finding out about last night. “Hmm? Is this what gets girls into your bed? Because honestly if this is all you’ve got then you gotta go work on your game, dude.”

Jay scoffs. “What, like this isn’t working?” He lifts a finger to signal you to pause as he continues. “And for the record, I don’t have to try and get you into my bed considering we’ve been there and done that.” He crosses his arms – god, his biceps are huge – and smirks at you.

You stare at him for a moment, in silence, your cheeks burning.

He raises his eyebrows.

You surge forward and grab his arm, yanking him out of the room and dragging him unceremoniously, but still without attracting attention, into the doctors’ lounge. Placing your hands on his chest, you shove him as far into the lounge as you can.

“Jesus – okay, I mean, I’d prefer a room without glass doors for sex but - ”

You’re pretty sure you’re turning bright red.

“We’re NOT having sex right now! In fact, we’re NEVER having sex again, okay?!” You exclaim while still sort of whispering, and Jay just frowns. “Here’s the deal – ” you continue, trying to ignore how close the two of you are, “Your brother? Is my boss. So yeah, last night was a mistake.”

“Sure,” Jay says, shrugging. You’re a little surprised (and honestly, slightly disappointed he’s given in so easily), except he then leans in and you suck in a sharp breath. In a low voice, he adds, “But we should probably do it again just to make sure, yeah?”

Your heart’s hammering in your chest, and your lips part. His soft lips, slightly pink, are all you can focus on, right up until you see them curl as he bites his lip, and his tongue runs over them, and you think your brain is completely short-circuiting.

You lick your lips. “We, uh, we – .” You can barely even hear your own voice, and Jay just shakes his head. “We what?” He asks, and you’re stunned that he’s somehow got his bearings about him – you’re stunned that he’s not completely ruined the way you are right now. But then you notice you can see his pupils dilating, that he’s holding his breath, that his eyes are fixed on you like you’re some kind of an addictive substance and you know he wants you so fucking bad. Last night’s got him hooked. On you.

Your head is hazy, and without thinking about it – or thinking about anything at all – you lean in, and so does Jay, and the gap between the two of you is shrinking rapidly and your heart’s going haywire and your inner thigh is throbbing and you can hear him shift and  –

“Y/N!”

You snap back, stunned. Jay straightens immediately, head tilting back towards the ceiling, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.

Natalie’s entering the doctors’ lounge, and thankfully she’s looking down at her phone as she does. A quick scan through the glass doors of the ED tells you that no one’s noticed your little…moment with Jay, far in the back of the lounge.

“Uh, y – yes, Dr Manning?” Is that your voice? God, you’re stuttering!

Natalie looks up. “Wards just paged about the peds patient we saw yesterday – her new set of labs came back and we need to go over them with the family. I’ll be up in 5 minutes, so I’ll see you then?”

“Y –  yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks Dr Manning.” Natalie smiles at you, before turning to Jay.

“What’s got you hanging in the ED?”

“Uh, some unfinished business.” Jay replies smoothly and you press your lips together. Natalie and Jay make small talk before she leaves.

You lean against the far wall of the lounge, trying to hide as best as you can. It doesn’t escape your notice that Jay is watching you like a hawk, that he takes a couple of steps towards you.

Massaging your temples, you just sigh at this enormous clusterfuck of a situation. “Fuck me,” you groan.

You look up in time to see something in Jay’s eyes go dark.

Oh.

He steps close enough that your back straightens against the wall, and your heart starts pounding in your chest again. Jay stares at you, his green eyes piercing, and gently tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. The feel of his rough fingertips against your cheek, your ear, is enough to make you feel like you’re vibrating, and you cross your legs subconsciously.

“What…do you think I’m trying to do, hm?” Jay asks, whispering.

You swallow hard.

Jay’s lips curve into a salacious smile and he steps back.

“You let me know if you ever change your mind, Dr Y/L/N.” There’s still a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, but you can tell he means it. That he wants it. You.

He turns around and takes a few steps, but stops and comes back to you.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. You left something at my place.” Jay’s hands reach into his back pocket and pull out…a lacy, black pair of panties. Your cheeks burn, and you snatch it out of his hands quickly, shoving it deep into your back pocket. Jay just laughs, but his face is a little red too.

You watch him as he leaves, smacking the top of the sliding glass door as he exits the doctors’ lounge.

You sag against the nearest wall.

“Okay…fuck.”

***

The rest of the day drags on in a slow, painful stretch. Or maybe it just feels that way to you, because you try so hard to keep your mind off of Jay, of what you did last night, of what he did to you this morning, but you just can’t. You’re typing up your charts and you can’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt on yours. You’re having lunch and you swear if you close your eyes, you can just feel his fingers skating over your body. You’re waiting for lab reports at radiology and you keep remembering what it felt like when you were about to kiss in the lounge.

Thankfully, the rest of your day at Med is entirely unaffected. Well, almost entirely. Will keeps shooting furtive glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, but you’re pretty sure he thinks it’s because of the stroke patient – who you now know as Toby Wilkerson – and not Jay.

“Alright, I’m done for the day, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Will announces to the ED, and there’s a chorus of goodbyes. He turns to you. “Oh, Dr Y/L/N – last I heard from Neuro was that Toby Wilkerson’s looking good. tPA seems to have done the trick.” Will informs you, and you smile, thanking him.

“Yeah, strokes can be extremely time-sensitive, so you did good there, okay? Don’t let the what-ifs stress you out. Go home and relax.” Will says, patting you on the shoulder before leaving.

Taking Will’s advice, you quickly finish up your reports and drive home. Chucking your keys on your coffee table, you head straight for your shower. Once you’re clean and changed, you lay down on your couch, interlocking your fingers behind your head, and take a deep breath.

Your mind is relaxed and at peace for all of 2 seconds before you start thinking about Jay again.

“Why. Why, oh why can I not get him out of my mind?” You whine out loud, and you get a mewling response from somewhere under the couch. Turning your head, you see your ginger cat exit his spot and jump onto your stomach, settling himself in.

“Tubbs, tell me I can’t go see him again.”

Tubbs emits a questioning meow.

“His brother is my attending, Tubbs! My boss and my colleague and my friend! If I start having relations with his little brother, then he can’t just see me as his student anymore. And if he ever does anything good for me, someone’s just going to assume that it’s because I’m screwing his brother. So – I just – I can’t see Jay again, I can’t have sex with him again, I just can’t. I’ve got to call it. I’m right, right?”

There’s just silence, and you look down at Tubbs. Who is busy licking his paw.

You roll your eyes, leaning back. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I can totally find another hot dude to bang. And Jay’s not even that hot, honestly.”

Tubbs meows and jumps down. He walks away.

“Okay fine, I guess he’s a little hot. It’s his eyes, I swear, they’re so – so fucking green. And pretty. But when he gets turned on they just lose all the light in them, and he turns into this – this man. Like he knows exactly what he wants from me and he’s going to get it. And his arms are huge, and when he’s holding you it’s like – ugh. And his lips – he – he just – he just knows – I.” You shake your head.

“I can’t – nope – I can’t sleep with him. It’s wrong. It’s bad and it’s wrong and I shouldn’t do it and I won’t.” You announce to your apartment.

There’s a moment of silence, before –

“Fuck.” You’re up, you grab your keys, your phone, and you’re out the door.

[raguna-blade]

Ok and before I forget and i Likely will and I don’t have the attention span to actually try and take this anywhere right at this precise moment but there’s one musical thing that’s likely as not a just a musical ref cause haha I can do it it’s my soundtrack, my game you can’t stop me but-

There’s this song I ran across ages ago that toby fox did also compose. 74, Sung by Itoki Hana, and I Honestly have to wonder how much of it is also supposed to link in thematically. Like this wouldn’t be the first time Toby’s done this, what with Megalovania being from 1 and then 2 different stories and each pulling a generally similar vibe and intent behind them near as I can tell (there was an essay that explained this way better but I cannot for the life of me tell you where I actually read it save the greater seas of Tumblr so you know, that’s probably lost forever)

And I’m sitting here looking at the lyrics of this song, and Where I at least hear the music parts, it is in Welcome to the City, which is the bit where it’s just Kris, The Soul and Noelle, and given the whole song and all i have to wonder if there’s any intended link.

Cause man, looking at the picture used, and then the lyrics it certainly feels like it.

Now purposes of this here analysis I suggest you go listen to the song. 74, Itoki Hana, Toby Fox should get you where you need to be. If nothing else it’s a good song.

Now probably not, but it does at least put me in the mind to look at it like it does even if it’s only more a thing i vaguely heard that sorta sounds like this sparked an idea and honestly there’s worse places to grow your thoughts.

So, in 74, the song more or less comes from the pov of the Princess in a tower, watching a brave knight ascend to rescue her, through the various traps and trials that are within the tower...That she set and put there. And she is not (or she is in addition to being) actually a princess. She’s a dragon, pretending to be a princess to lure in knights to feel a degree of validation, to feel well...Important. Valuable. Special you know?

And I guess it’s not hard to see some potential parallels going on given that we find that Kris is opening the Fountains. Or is ALSO opening the Fountains. We’ve seen one for sure, and the implication SUGGESTS that they’re the one doing it in general, but we won’t know for sure til the game’s completely out. But for now, let’s assume they’re doing them all.

With that, We have Kris the Hero fighting through a land of trial and tribulation that he made himself to do...Something. Like in the song, the Knight in question looks gallant cool and really shows their stuff, even though in the end they bit it.

So that’s something, but then, we’re still asking why is Kris doing this? It’s shown that basically any Lightner can open a Dark Fountain whenever they want (Berdly got slapped out of it like 3 times in a row, and he seemed to be doing it pretty trivially as far as difficulty was concerned. Now that was in the Dark World, so perhaps it was easier there, but the Queen didn’t even really consider Berdly Strong enough to do it, though part of that likely as not had to do with her concern for Noelle.

But like...I dunno, I go back to the Knight in all this, and that’s a position of special import in the game. It’s very actively called attention to it, and the Knight is positioned as an apocalyptic force that’s...Creating Worlds, giving life and value back to the Darkners, who were cut off from the Lightners, which has seemingly left both sides lesser. The Darkners seeming to be doomed to fade into the dark, while the Lightners are unable to interact with this world that seems to have the ability to massively improve their wellbeing.

Like, Knights are typically heroes in stories with princes and heroes and kings and queens you know? When the story takes place in a kingdom, it’s the loyal knight who, while perhaps not the main hero, is a steadfast compatriot. Well that’s the general idea right?

But the Knight is positioned as a terrible force of ruin and destruction...Except in chapter 2 here, we get the notion that creating the Dark Worlds really can be an improvement life. Indeed, the game doesn’t even seem to suggest that creating more Dark Worlds is inherently a bad thing, but there’s the critical issue of the balance between the two being off and that’s a critical problem that at least as of now doesn’t seem to be able to be addressed.

Still, if this game is keeping on with Parallels to Undertale, The Knight isn’t all bad. Hell even the Spade King wasn’t all bad and he’s pretty objectively the most evil character in the normal route of the game.

And the game really does seem to posit that the interaction between the dark world and the light world is inherently good for both of them. The Town looks Way healthier and lively in Chapter 2 than it did in 1. Susie’s Rude Stat has been dropping since go, and Even Kris, while we don’t get to see their thoughts, seems to be becoming considerably more expressive. Now admittedly pretty much every expression we do get to see from them that isn’t prompted from The Soul seems to be negative and frustrated and angry and all that, but then, I think that’s probably a better place to be than shoving everything down and being completely unresponsive and not acknowledging anything that they’re feeling, which seems to be the case whenever you start to touch on anything remotely intimate.

I mean The Soul seems to be a part of them as well as apart from them, which is confusing at the moment, but they’re capable of scarfing down a whole entire pie, slash their moms tires, and open up portals to parallel realites without it so it doesn’t seem to be something that they particularly NEED to survive or do anything.

Going back to the song though, and i suppose the most basic barebones aspect I wanna look at, is that Someone who’s Apparently In Trouble is actually the Threat, or more generally, that the Appearances Are Opposite to the Actual Reality of the situation I’m wondering.

Because last thing before I cut this off, is that We have the Queen going all in on her plan and being unaware that going through with it would lead to the end of all things, I have to wonder if the Knight is Similarly Ignorant as to what they’re actually doing.

I’m also wondering if Perhaps Asriel is perhaps actually the antagonist. Because while the game’s claim of your choices having no meaning is inherently unquestionably suspect, the game also makes it extremely clear, doubly so as of the point of chapter 2, That there are people you’re simply going to have to fight, and perhaps you’re going to have to fight them with the full intent of killing them, and that that is an option that you genuinely may need to consider. Or at least, that you may well need to destroy that relationship and cut them out of your life. Not everyone should be recruited, so to speak.

Which is advice that shows up, if my memory isn’t failing me this quickly, in the manual that Ralsei provides...And advice that, if taken to extremes as shown in the Corruption route, can cause genuine problems.

Or I suppose I guess to put this in another context, the first words of advice you’re given, that are a full on lie, in Undertale is that this is a world of kill or be killed. Asriel tells us this is a world where you do not have to kill anyone, and while the game has yet to have you actually bring the axe down on anyone in the Normal Route, it’s also extremely explicitly stated that it’s not so simple as spare everyone or fight everyone. There’s shades of grey here and you shouldn’t just ignore them. There are people you can’t just spare, you have to fight it out (and interestingly, those people do not include the secret bosses, who seem to have a greater level of understanding of the world, if also are borderline incoherent in both cases.)

I dunno. There’s more to percolate on here i think, though obviously some of this isn’t gonna be answered until we get the rest of the game.

And as a last note, there’s 7 showing up again as a recurring number so that’s...Interesting.

[junseotual]

bye bye 2020, hello 2021 !!

happy new year everyone!! there’s a lot of people i want to thank for making last year so much more bearable so i tried writing some messages for some of my dearest mutuals this year as well!! (keyword tried because i absolutely cannot put my feelings and thoughts into words. i love you all though and thank you so so so much!!!)

@angelhyunjin : angi!! i know you’re not on here anymore (actually i just found out . i ran to twt to find u as quick as i could!!) but it felt weird not?? putting you on here because you WERE a big part of my year!! i was always excited to chat with you and i rlly rlly loved (still do) seeing your art and your dance covers i can’t believe how talented at both you are!! you are really really lovely and even if it’s been a while i hope you know i still think of you and hope you’re doing well!! this year might have been hard but i hope 2021 will be much nicer to you because you definitely deserve it!! i love you!! 

@cinanamon : stephie!! i think we haven’t talked in a while until we started suddenly bonding over minho but all is well that ends well because now we are the founders of a minho cult and that’s all i could hope for in life i think! we don’t talk that much but seeing your tags in all the minho posts is always a TIME i absolutely love reading them! thank you for being there to lose it over minho, always, but also for being there in general! you are really sweet and i do love to talk to u!! i also know you are a really good writer so i hope 2021 brings you lots of inspiration to write more!! (and i’ll finally catch up on your fics too! hehe) happy new year!! 

@cocogoat : puppy !! i think we haven’t been friends for long actually and that sounds fake because that would mean there was a time i didn’t instinctively check your blog when i woke up in the morning (or the evening let’s be real)?? you are so! adorable and for what!!!!!! i really do love seeing you pop up in my phone notifs and reading your posts even if i dont have any idea what they’re saying half of the time unless it’s dgrp (i cannot believe i have a dgrp friend now. amazing i think i won) u are so funny and so cute and i’m really glad i got to know you because!! you’re such a nice friend that i! love! times can be hard but i hope 2021 is gentle with you because that is! what! you deserve! gentle pats and tight hugs! (maybe that’s why i associate ab6ix’s heaven with you it’s the gentle vibes) <3

@glossiers : miss bri i am in love w u that’s it. no i’m kidding that’s not it i have much more to say . i am in lov w u though #brillie2k21 i think. i think it’s been a surprisingly short time since we’ve actually started talking?? which is kinda crazy if u ask me because?? how the hell did i live my life without screaming BRIIIII whenever i see u on the dash like for real how . that sounds like a life so empty like. that would rlly be missing . something?? anyways u are a dear dear friend that i really really love and i’m sure you know that but i will keep saying it anyway! i’m sure i’m pretty annoying so thanks for putting up with me! and for talking to me! i feel like i’ve said it before but! you are a delight to see on the dash and i lovlovlov talking to u (and sending u pics of my cats, thank u for appreciating them). i still cannot believe u managed to convince yourself i was a hyeongjun stan though. hope i can be convincing enough to clear that up and leave no doubts in your brain this year. anyways i love you and i hope we can continue to be friends and talk even MORE this year!!!!!! happy new year ilu <3

@hwacinth : miss dia my sweet sweet floral nymph real life shirayuki and queen of urls! i am? so so so so so glad that we are friends you literally have my heart it is YOURS i can’t even try to claim it back!! you literally are shirayuki i don’t even know how to elaborate i think it’s just self-explanatory but you are just. such a sweet little sunshine!! it’s like you bring spring everywhere you go!! we could be in a middle of a metaphorical storm but when you appear the skies clear up and flowers bloom wherever you step and i cannot help but smile when i see you online!! thank you so so much for being my little ray of sunshine in these tough times! i hope to see even more of your posts this year!! don’t hesitate to live blog anything you watch in my dms if you feel like you’re posting too much (but i hope you never feel that way because you’re not . love seeing u live post it is absolutely amazing i won’t ever get tired of it)!! happy new year and i love you!! ps only 1 more hour until your birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIA ILUUU <3 I HOPE YOU CAN HAVE A WONDERFUL ONE!! IM SENDING YOU CAKE TELEPATHICALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@hwisgf : sorinaaaa! happy new year!! we don’t talk that much but it is always nice seeing you around! you are vv sweet and i really appreciate that, thank you for taking the time to talk to me sometimes!! you are also probably my only fantasy mutual?? which is terrible on one side because i think everyone should stan sf9 but that’s besides the point . i really do love the fact that i at least have u to talk to abt sf9 if need and i LOVE seeing u in love with hwi it is absolutely amazing. i am forever grateful for all the free hwi pics days too!! <3 i hope 2021 can be a year full of happiness for you!! (also that is also besides the point but @ fnc i want an sf9 cb announcement) ILY!! (and so does hwi)

@inkigayeo : miss vivi galaxy brain happy new year!! we only started talking recently but u do have my heart already!! i hope this year treats you well and that we can get to know each other more and be friends hehe!!!! <3 (my other wish is for u to stop breaking my heart with those fake titles. please . why should san NOT come back explain yourself .)

@jeongcheols : mimi . mimi mimi mimi im literally typing this as u are listening to that ten n dj stage ok now it’s kai ok anyways . ANYWAYS i am loving your sm concert live commentary . criminal is sounding amazing taemin is insane indeed (yes i took a break before coming back to writing this) i truly don’t know what to say?? n i have to keep watching the time so that i can scream HAPPY NEW YEAR into the mic in 14 minutes. but like?? i love you?? like. like for real i don’t know what i would’ve done without you?? also it’s weird writing this for tumblr instead of just in your messages (also i can’t focus with idea playing. idea soty). and i mean. you technically know all of this but like?? i can’t believe we’ve known each other for so long but also such a short time at the same time like. what. thank you for being my bestestest friend and my soulmat i don’t think i would’ve been able to remain sane this year (and last year too honestly) if it wasn’t for you?? thank you for always listening to my incoherent rants and i’m always so sorry for spamming you while you’re asleep i know you must wake up to like 150+ messages with absolutely no connection between them and they’re all just so random i truly don’t know how you manage to not get annoyed and to just stay with me all this time i’m- getting emotional. you had a terrible year, i know it! i really do!! and while it might not be looking too bright right now, i hope the universe hears me and treats you much better in 2021 because!! you deserve so much more!! you deserve the world, really!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i would write more really but like what is there to say literally i’m just (your emoji)) i love you for real;;

@nakyngs : ele <3 happy new year!!!!!! we haven’t talked much this year but i do think of u a lot daily i hope you know that!! and i love u a lot! even if i still need to catch up on all your aus </3 i hope 2021 can be a fun and stress-free year for you!! and we should catch up sometime too!! ps i hope your fish are ok

@ncityzen : dear spring fairy!! i already sent you a new year’s message earlier today like what. 6 hours ago but! once again!! i really do hope you can leave the hard times behind in 2020 and only get the best things possible this new year!! i’m always very happy to see you appear on my dash and curious to see your life updates and your random literature-related mini-rants in the tags they are always very interesting to see!! so! hoping to see even more of that this year <3 i hope you know that i love you and i really care about you!!

@woojjongs : MISS IRI! i am screaming this very loud so hopefully u can hear me all the way in canada! okay i had to leave this one for last because i?? don’t really know how to start i’m just a pink glittery puddle with lil hearts flowing in it that is how i feel towards u right now . how does one think and how does one write down their thoughts coherently give me a second. this is going to be a mess maybe u shouldn’t read it (‘accidentally’ forgets to tag u). just know that i decided to play txt’s wishlist to write this and u might be confused by that but all u need to know is that it means i love you very much. OKAY so miss iri you are . such a wonderful pal i truly don’t know what i would’ve done without you like . it would feel so weird not seeing you around tumblr would be so so so so empty i don’t even think you can begin to imagine how empty i’d feel without you around here ksdjbskbds i absolutely adore you but we already knew that. i’m always super excited to see your gifsets and your nonsense!! be it your love for woojong or u missing lim jimin (play m.. 🔪) or your snoo brainrot or hating literally anyone on smtm or whatever else it might be i love it all!! you are so cute and adorable and talented and sweet and funny i cannot believe you also happen to be the prettiest person on earth too. how does that feel! anyways i love you so so so so so much? i keep telling you to hold back from committing crimes but i absolutely WOULD commit a crime for u i really do adore you!! i mean . how many groups did u make me stan . (ok actually i don’t think there’s that many. but STILL) i know i can be super annoying but thank u for taking the time to chat with me nonetheless!! i’m all over the place but . there’s times i come online literally just to check your blog nothing else! i hope we can continue to be friends this year too n perhaps talk more (or the same amount idk please tell me off when i’m too annoying)!! happy new year, i hope it holds wonderful things in store for u!!!!!! and we really are starting off great since victon comeback is approaching <3 (this got way too long i’m so sorry i’ll cut it off now before i write 10 pages)

@xiaocity : miss siya hello hello hello first of all i’m just so very glad that you’re back i l o v e you!!! i love seeing you around be it your gifs or your text posts which yes. i cannot properly understand half of the time but google is my best friend after all! you’re such a wonderful person and i’m just?? really glad to have you around like?? you feel kind of like a cousin i don’t always get to see but am always excited to talk to when i can? this might not make sense but. you are vvv cool and talented and funny and feel very like. reliable? i feel like i am not making any sense so like ignore me. what i’m saying is i really really like you a whole lot and i really hope we can talk even more in 2021!! happy new year, i hope it’s a wonderful one for you!!

@yunwoo : miss anna we haven’t been moots for that long and we haven’t talked much but u are vvv cute and i hope we can become (better) pals this year!! i’m looking forward to seeing u on the dash more often, hopefully!! happy new year <3

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Hello hello!  Thank you that’s really kind of you!!! I love your writing (congrats on Chap 9, it was awesome)!

Personally I am terrible at flirting or even understanding how it works, so I did my best with this. Hope it comes across as good!

This wound up longer than expected, whoops! Flirting with Self-conscious s/o ( Red Shoes and the 7 Dwarfs )

Arthur

Charm out the wazoo. Arthur’s boisterous personality combined with his a princely upbringing and deeply instilled ideas on what a knight should be have created an inherent need to be charming when he’s interested in someone. It can range from surprisingly smooth to over-the-top. He’s pretty good at coming up with them on the go too, responding to what may be an innocuous question with a decent line.

His lines come in three main forms. 

Traditional knight/ye olde romantic keeping ideas of courtly wooing.

“May I join you, milady/milord?”

“Should you feel fear let me know. It’s a warrior’s duty to protect that which he treasures.”

Painfully, genuinely sweet lines that work only because he’s showing his real self and is not being over-the-top.

“Could I... hold your hand?”

Boasting: AKA showing off his muscles and hyping himself up (desperate moves he thankfully only rarely uses now thanks to his experience with Snow White)

The issue with all of these is that they come across as a bit fake or showy, as this type of flirting really isn’t for everyone. So a line missing when flirting with his self-conscious s/o is something he sort of expected. He doesn’t think it’s because they’re self-conscious, Arthur just thinks he messed up.

The way the self-consciousness manifests itself is going to change the way he reacts. For example, if they withdraw a lot, he’s going to think he really goofed it and is going to apologize, asking for clarification on what he did wrong so that he doesn’t do it again. That’s a very different reaction than if s/o were to bluntly tell him they didn’t believe him, leaving him dumbfounded.

The first reaction aside, Arthur would want to let them know he genuinely meant it, but his own lack of experience would really get in the way of that. How does he go about this? Him being him though, he would confront them directly about it and in that moment let his inner sweetheart shine as he makes it clear that he meant what he said. 

If they want to explain why they feel that way about themselves, great he’ll listen, but even if they don’t he asks them to not speak about themselves that way. They’re too wonderful to be hateful towards themselves.

After that the prince makes it a point to compliment them every single day. It’s not even always flirting, it’s straight up compliments. Their smarts, their passions, their looks, their hands, their eyes - everything is free game, and he’s not going to stop giving sincere compliments until they get it through their heads he likes them for them for a reason, and they should too. 

Pino

Stating facts about them counts as flirting, right? Cards on the table I don’t think Pino is really capable of flirting well, at least not on purpose. Yes, he’s mature and the eldest but that doesn’t necessarily equip him for the terrifying world that is interpersonal relationships outside of family. To even try to flirt takes a massive amount of pondering before he lets out a single word

His flirting, thus, is not so much flirting as it is:

A) stating things he likes about them/ Sort of.

“You are very smart. And strong. Strong and smart. Smrong.”

“You are a good size.”

B) complimenting them about something they did.

“Good job.”

“’You did good with that.” 

C) Giving up and just staring silently trying to think of something to say. Anything. Come on brain you helped build a selfie machine surely stringing words together isn’t that hard.

That one video of Lin-Manuel Miranda chanting “Come on brain, think of things.”

D) Any of the above, only his brothers are there to be the world’s best worst okayest wingmen.

The thing is, is that with this style of flirting barely comes across as flirting. S/o or not, it is going to be very difficult for anyone to pick up on any of this as intentional romantic interest rather than Pino being... Pino. Most people would maybe register this as awkward platonic compliments, if even that. His insecure s/o’s self-consciousness may not kick in for a while until they figure out that this is Pino desperately trying to show intentions.

Someone give this man cue cards he’s hurting.

Actually no don’t do that his brothers might get ideas. 

Despite this terrible inability to communicate romantic feelings, Pino does have one thing going for him. A stupid amount of emotional knowledge courtesy of keeping an eye on his brothers. Pino’s not dumb. When it comes to the people he really cares about he can get a good read on them. His s/o is no different. 

Upon realizing that s/o, the same s/o he has been pining after for weeks of awkward semi-flirting, has self-conscious issues, Pino is baffled. Bamboozled. Confusioned. Setting his own feelings to the side, the eldest brother works up the nerve to tell them full throttle that they are awesome. He doesn’t know what they have been through, nor where the feelings come from, but he will not let this stand. He is a little curt and blunt, but the intent is there.

If his s/o says 1 tiny negative thing about themselves, he’s armed with something they cannot deny. Facts. Pino has been debating his brothers for years, he will make charts if he has to.

Noki

Constant non-stopping stream of compliments. Noki is what happens when a fidget spinner is outfitted with an energy-drink powered engine. Pino, Hans and Jack can only somewhat keep him from vibrating into another dimension, and that’s with their powers combined. When he has someone in his sights, that energy is re-focused on making his s/o feel like royalty. 

Flirting is, if nothing else, absolutely amazing to witness in just how it is:

One constant stream of consciousness that results in compliment after compliment.

“That’s amazing, you’re amazing, that hat really suits you-”

“Your hair looks really nice today, though it usually looks nice every day-”

Painfully, unapologetically, sincerely sweet, gen-u-ine statements that could give anyone a bad case of sugar rush. 

“Why wouldn’t I want to be here? I really like spending time with you, you’re a really fun person.”

“When you smile your noise gets all crinkly and it’s super cute, you’re like a kitten!”

Cheesy, horrible one-liners that were bad in high school then and are bad in current times now. 

“Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 

^^^^ That’s as much as I’m writing on that, this stuff is painful.

The painful part in all of this is that Noki, being Noki, is going to have no flippin’ clue that his s/o is feeling about this until he starts paying very close attention to their reactions. Are they turning away from him because they are hiding a blush, or because they are hiding tears? Are they blushing and incoherent because he’s just that good, or because they have no idea how to respond, this is a new experience to them, someone please show them mercy and send help. 

“Wait, you don’t believe me??? Why?!” Noki is not going to hide his bewilderment at all. This whole time he’s been flirting with them and they thought he was kidding??? He thought he was bad at this, not that they were going through some insecurities he may be encountering for the first time. He is going to sit down next to them, and s/o has about two seconds to decide whether or not they’re going to talk about it, because otherwise he is.

“You are amazing though! Everyone knows it! Snow White, Merlin, Sword-head, Hans, Jack, my brothers- we all know it! Do you think I could invent something that can possibly help this? You should have to go through life thinking badly of yourself when the world is a brighter place because of you! I-” 

TBH I do not have room for the whole rant here, but essentially this would likely wind up with him confessing because this is painfully obvious. 

By the end of this, he plans to make them blushy every single day until they see the them he sees, and beyond that too!

Kio

Shy sweetness that will punch you in the stomach when you least expect it. Oh you thought because he’s shyer and quieter than his brothers (and the entirety of the F7) that he isn’t capable of delivering some one-hit KOs using nothing but his words? You thought?! Pino is awkward but mature, Noki is a ball of constant validation, but Kio will use his reputation for shyness as an excuse to flirt out of the blue and then move on like nothing happened. 

Personal touch may be awkward for him but verbally making his s/o a goober just like him is his secret to being confident with his words. His s/o is in for it. 

Kio is a sneaky bastard who has the least range of flirtation (only 2 types really) but boy oh boy are they wildly different. 

The supreme sweetness that Noki (most of the boys if we’re being honest) take notes on when they want to be sweet to their loved ones.

“That’s a new bracelet isn’t it? It’s really suits you, you make it look good.”

“All your expressions are lovely but when you smile, the whole world seems brighter.”

The, ah, spicy stuff that none of the F7 besides Pino know that he is capable of uttering. Pino has no proof and is going crazy trying to prove to the group that the youngest brother can be downright heated with his flirting. 

“I could see you anywhere and be happy. Outside. Inside. In a house. In the bed. Especially the last one.”

“Your eyes are not the only part of you I could get lost in.”

Kio does not have the problem of not being clear in flirting. He’s not subtle. At all. As you’ve seen in some of the examples. The problem is that it can be a lot for a person to process, especially one that has self-consciousness issues. It really is out of the blue, which can throw the other person off when they’re not expecting it. Which is always. 

Thankfully, he is the happy middle between Noki and Pino’s ability to sense that something is wrong. It does take him a bit to pick up on it, but eventually he puts two and two together to realize s/o really is reacting oddly. Not in that they’re shy, but that there’s an underlying issue. It does take him a while to talk about it though because he has no clue how to approach it. It’s not a subject he’s good at tackling. 

The thought his s/o is going through this solo though does get him to gently pull them aside and ask them about it. He wants to know if it’s him overstepping into a very uncomfortable territory, if it’s specific things that trigger a certain response or if it’s something else entirely. Kio is a good listener, and mentally remembers a lot of notes for the next time he wants to compliment them. 

Very much makes it a point to let them know that hey, he likes them for them, and that yes, he is going to continue to give specific compliments their way because he adores them and they are worth it. 

[certain-death-awaits]

Theories & Predictions for Champion of the Titan Games

If you need a refresher on the full lore of the Fair Folk, do read my post about it. They’ll be quite relevant to these theories. Now, let’s read the theories! If you want anything explained, don’t hesitate to make a comment, or send an ask on anon if you’re shy. It’s weird to write everything down after just having it in my head for so long, so this might be long-winded and incoherent.

Ezabar, the Somber Knight, and Selona -  I theorise that the Somber Knight is a lich. The Somber Knight has an especially dark reputation according to Henrick, and resides in catacombs (built by wizards even though Dragon Slayers generally have a distaste for wizards).

The air in his lair is markedly lifeless, though pure.

He is thought to be undead- something more “powerful and evolved” than a zombie or wraith- by Tanu and the public of Terrabelle. When he loses his leg and forearm, he isn’t in danger of dying, but makes his way back to his lair to regenerate. In popular culture, a lich keeps its soul in a reliquary. If destroyed, the lich would re-form at the location of its reliquary.

 Like the Somber Knight, liches traditionally spend their time hidden from the world in their lair.

In Fablehaven, liches appear desiccated (like the ones on the Path of Dreams) or completely skeletal (like Calumbra or Ezabar) .Their touch also bruises-  both would be good reasons for the Somber Knight to be completely encased in armour.

In Fablehaven, a lich is a type of undead (the lich Belrab used to be a wizard), who deliberately retains some of it’s former human will. Some are able to control lesser undead. I think that the Somber Knight, or Ryland as is his true name, was one of the Fair Folk, and think the Fair Folk had a role in placing him. I don’t think it’s really in question for him to have been a wizard- all Dragon Slayers hate dragons, and tend to distrust wizards. He also has a name that sounds like a Fair Folk name (Like Lockland), and resides under Terrabelle; he would have even been placed there at the same time the territory was established. Eve found his name from “the old stories”, and Lord Dalgorel asked him to help Eve even though only the caretakers of Wyrmroost are supposed to command him. Seth asks Ezabar if he’s a lich, and Ezabar concedes that “that is one label”. Ezabar asks Seth to find a piece of information for him in return for allowing him access to the prison. To help provide context, he explains that he used to live in Selona. It’s possible he lived there as a wizard, but I think that he lived there as one of the Fair Folk, because he asks Seth what became of a boy called Toleron, son of the Duke of Hester, whose mother was called Ingrid. It seems like a matter of personal importance to him. I think that becoming a lich or whatever higher form of undead might be more common among Fair Folk, or at least it doesn’t have the same taboo it seems to have for wizards. Oh, and I asked Brandon Mull if Fair Folk could become undead, and he said that they wouldn’t be normal undead, but could be liches or revenants. Those would be the forms of undead with their own will.

Wizard-Fair Folk Cooperation- Wyrmroost was established by Archadius, the first wizard. Wyrmroost has had several caretakers since its establishment, the fourth of which was Agad. Though the Fair Folk are neutral, there is a settlement of Fair Folk at every dragon preserve, with the three largest settlements being at the three with a Dragon Temple, and this is not common knowledge- perhaps deliberately so. These three preserves are also where the Sage’s Gauntlets, shield-that-repels-dragons, and harp-that-soothes-dragons are guarded by the dragons. The very talismans that helped defeat the dragons long ago. I suspect the Fair Folk are stationed in these locations to keep an eye on the dragons, and that they-at least formerly- are here to prevent the dragons from gaining power over the other races. Further proof that they have diplomatic priority- by “ancient treaty”, the defences of Blackwell Keep do not repel the coach of Stormguard Castle.

I also want to talk about the Sovereign Skull. If you don’t remember it, you can catch up on it here. I think that Selona was created by wizards primarily to house the Sovereign Skull, or at least the sphere it’s located in. I would equate it with Zzyzx, which had a physical location (Shoreless Isle) but was in reality its own realm. Selona would have a physical location in Europe (as Ezabar alluded to) but be its own country. It’s very secret- Eve declines to tell Kendra and Seth about it, Ezabar says it’s impossible to access, and Agad only reluctantly shares information about the location of the skull with Kendra. It makes sense- the Fair Folk enforce neutrality at Selona, and Lord Dalgorel was certain the dragons would need to “crush Selona”. “If our mother country falls, it could create a permanent imbalance, and unending age of dragons.” he says. The dragons mean to destroy the Sovereign Skull. I believe they are connected.

Humbuggle and Curses-  What happened at Stormguard Castle is widely referred to as a curse by those who do not know what happened, and was created by Humbuggle. Serena, investigating the Nipsie curse, was last seen headed for Titan Valley, which is where Gabrinko said that Humbuggle’s Castle is. After all, it was Humbuggle, colluding with Graulas, who cursed the Nipsies. My theory is that the Nipsies are a cursed form of Fair Folk- that’s why nothing is ever designed with them in mind (think the Path of Dreams). Calvin says that Nipsies “used to be more powerful. And bigger. Maybe even as big as I am now”. But to curse them, he’d need a motive- I think it’s possible he intends to weaken the Fair Folk as a group. Another curse of his might’ve been the phenomenon in which “Almost no babies are being born anymore. Nobody is sure why.” Weakening the Fair Folk would benefit Humbuggle simply because they are a neutralising force, and of course curses are Humbuggle’s hobby.

Calvin and Humbuggle- I think that Calvin is either colluding with, or he is Humbuggle. I have only circumstantial evidence, but here it is. Look how these parallel one another-

“The curse came with a prophecy,” Calvin said.

“Tell me.”

“All nipsies can recite it:The curse arose from the demon’s blight; the lord who slays him will set it right.”

“It rhymes,” Seth observed.

“Most of the good ones do,” Calvin said. “Some strain more than others. But the basics are clear. Whoever kills the horrible demon will help lift the curse.”

And then these two scenes from Wrath of the Dragon King

“I suppose,” Humbuggle said. “I could also eat plain oatmeal every day to stay alive. An explanation is more pleasant when it rhymes. And a tad more official.”

“To keep the game fair, I will confess that the Wizenstone is jealously guarded by a powerful demon. Any who seek to claim the stone would have to ward off the demon before long.”

I also think it’s intriguing that right after showing Kendra how he morphed into Augie and Elouise, this exchange takes place:

“You’re sneaky,” Kendra said.

“Young one, you have no idea,” Humbuggle replied.

Bracken misses Calvin when he’s reading minds. They never check with the Nipsy elders that Calvin is legitimate. Camarat does not sense any darkness in him, but he is also unable to tell what Calvin is before he reveals himself. This is of note because in SotDS, Camarat is able to tell that the knapsack contains an “unconventional automaton and a hermit troll”, and is able to detect that Seth is a young shadow charmer. Gabrinko says he’s legitimate, but like @carolinelikesdinner said, he’s an outcast from his society and may be exiled for a good reason. He would also have access to Fablehaven- in the Caretaker’s Guide, it’s mentioned that there is a magical dwarf among the colony at Fablehaven, whose intentions are unknown.

Loose Things That I Want To Point Out

-Serena was “with a woman of human size”. I have no evidence, but intuition tells me she is Isadore, an enchantress mentioned in the Caretaker’s Guide.

-Ezarod was killed by Dromadus in dragon form. Dragons, when they become wizards, change their name. Liches are often former wizards. It’s possible, though unlikely, that Ezabar was in fact Ezarod.

-Celebrant’s wings make an unmistakable whistling sound when he approaches by air. I know Chekhov’s gun when I see it.

-The Roost is Wyrmroost Castle. The caretaker used to split time between it and the Keep. It was important enough to even have a scepter. However, I cannot find any other allusion to it, and we can only assume we will learn more in future books, meaning we will hopefully return to Wyrmroost.

Agad is a Shady Bitch- This isn’t a theory, but I have a couple of things I want to point out. First, don’t forget that Ryland thinks he may be:

“Agad became caretaker long after Wyrmroost was founded,” the Somber Knight said. “He was the fourth caretaker. Wizards love their secrets. It is possible he never knew the medallion derived power from a hidden scepter. If he did know, then you were set up to become caretakers, and to discover this knowledge on your own, so you would be forced to decide how to proceed without external influence, thereby assuming responsibility for all the associated risks and perils.”

Agad constantly warns Seth to stay away from the Blackwell. When he departs for Soaring Cliffs in WotDK, he warns Seth to stay away from the Blackwell. Marat, too, frequently warns Seth to stay away from the Blackwell. Of course, this is for the safety of himself and others- but he’s also one of the only people even capable of releasing the beings of the Blackwell.

Vanessa lists shades and haunts as ethereal restless beings, much like apparitions, phantoms, sky phantoms, specters, and wraiths. Shades and Haunts are said by Amulon to live in the Barrows, Lackluster Woods, and Adjoining Meadows- why weren’t the creatures of the Blackwell given their own domain like this? I have a very good reason- Agad’s grudge against the wizard-turned-lich imprisoned there. According to the Sphinx, Belrab is a powerful lich, and controls the other beings imprisoned there. This is eerily similar to the case of a Morisant; he was another dragon-turned-wizard-turned-lich, imprisoned along with his minions. (It’s never explicitly stated Morisant is a lich- but he matches all the requirements)

[hide-the-cutlery]

The next two days are going to suck.

I’m out of pills. Well, not completely out. I have about 8 of my anxiety pills left — to last me 3 weeks. I’m supposed to take 3 a day. So I have those, and some otc pills that take me out of myself a little, but I have to be careful with those, because, for me, they can trigger panic. I can pick up my pain meds in 2 days, but they usually makes me puke. I thought I was doing better this month with my usage, but I guess not. Then there’s more anxiety pills that supposedly help with my alcohol cravings, which aren’t a controlled substance, so I can probably get those next week. None of this really matters, because I don’t have shit now.

I’m so medicated. Even if I took everything as prescribed, I’d probably be an incoherent mess. I’m a master manipulator with doctors, which I’m simultaneously proud of and ashamed of. I know how to get what I want, within reason. It’s all about building a rapport with them and finding that sweet spot where they believe you need what you’re getting and never trying to push for more. I tried a few times to get another of my anxiety pills a day, but my psychiatrist pushed back and changed something else instead, so I knew I had to drop it.

What boggles my mind is that I’m a fucking alcoholic (addict), and these medical professionals still throw potentially dangerous, addicting medication at me. What pisses me off is how much they don’t listen. I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and brought a list of things I wanted to talk about with him, since the appointments go so fast. I wanted to explain my racing thoughts keeping me from completing simple tasks. My complete lack of impulse control. My delusional beliefs that the universe is trying to get back at me for being a shitty person. That I’ll stay up all night (sometimes for 2-3 nights in a row) and do things like clean. Even if I lay down, turn off everything, and pray for sleep, I just can’t. The fact that I didn’t finish my cleaning (or whatever I started) gets in my head and makes rest impossible. His solution? Let’s increase your seroquel again.

Scary things are starting to happen. Sometimes I go on a “bender” in a store(s), and I don’t remember when, how, what I got, etc. My memory needs to be jogged sometimes. This past time I got twelve bottles of body wash, for a total of 29. And that’s not including hairspray, hair gel, hair accessories, dry shampoo, lotion, makeup, nail polish, and a fuckton of clothes. I am out of control. It’s funny — I want to lose a little more weight (I just lost ~25lbs), but then all the clothes I’ve acquired won’t fit, so the fruits of my labor will be spoiled. I’ll have to start over. That is literally my thought process, and it’s so fucked. Stores know me. They watch me. They follow me. They know my fucking name and know what I do. And honestly, I just don’t care. I mean I care because I don’t want to get caught again, but the odds are seemingly in my favor. Even the LP woman where I actually got the cops called on me said “we’ve been watching you a long time, but you’re too good.” Not saying that as something to brag about, just recalling what happened. Also, I recognize when someone is trying to manipulate me. She was trying to get me to confess to other things because what they must have had on me would never hold up in court. I am not stupid. I don’t know what I did that time to allow them to catch me, but clearly I slipped up somewhere. Either that, or they just went with it, hoping I’d confess. Which I did. I cooperated; hopefully it helps me in the end. I was watching trashy tv this morning, and a woman mentioned she went to jail for two months for petty theft. The host of the show even seemed shocked by that. Maybe she had priors or other factors that played into it. But yeah, I can’t go to jail! It’s not an excuse, and if you look at my actions alone, yeah, maybe I deserve to go to jail, too. But (prepare yourself for some massive excuses) I’m sick. I don’t do it because I want material things. I don’t think I am above the law. I’m not trying to make some pathetic stand against capitalism. I just can’t control my impulses, and I’m sick. I’m working with my therapist, my psychiatrist (at least I make an effort to), and some women in AA to get help, and nothing is working. I thought after I got caught, I’d stop, and for a while, I did. But that apparently wasn’t enough, either. It’s a compulsion — fighting it is futile. It actually started out as excessive spending, but I ran out of the means to keep that up, so now it’s this. I know it’s because of my issues with addiction and mental health. I don’t see it any differently than drinking, drug use, sex, or whatever. It’s an alternative to drinking. I can’t do that anymore, so this filled the void. Every time I have spent money excessively or done this, I haven’t been drinking. The object of my addiction (for me, at least), bounces around until I can’t do that thing anymore, and my brain holds up a sign that says NEXT in glowing, red letters. Like a “no vacancy” sign at a shitty motel.

I know before I went on that little tangent, I was listing some things that are scaring me. Sometimes, after I wake up, I’ll check my phone and find that I tried to write, but it’s total jibberish. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing time. I don’t know where the days go; I wake up and (try to) go to bed. I’ll start to do something, my mind will go blank, and I won’t remember what I was doing. I’m stumbling all over the place. I’ll try to have conversations (usually in the morning), and I’ll be able to hear myself slurring. I seem to talk without thinking. An example: I’ll be in a room with only one other person, talking to them, but it will feel like part of myself has separated from me and is screaming “You LIAR! Shut the fuck up! That’s not true and you know it. Quit pulling things out of your ass and tell the fucking truth. Drop the whole facade; you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, nor do you believe what you’re saying. You’re pathetic. Spineless. You’re fake.” I swear I couldn’t pick myself out of a lineup sometimes.

I feel that third presence with me frequently, but recently it hit a new level of intensity. I had a few job interviews a couple weeks ago and I found myself exaggerating the truth so much that it made me feel uncomfortable. All I could hear in my head was “LIAR LIAR LIAR”. (And forcing myself to make unwavering eye contact made me feel ill.) I tried to tell myself that’s just how interviews go, and that they weren’t really lies at all, just maybe a few embellishments, but I cannot listen to myself when I’m being rational. Irrationality is really all I know lately. I ended up taking a position with a company that seemed sketchy as hell, but I was desperate. I’m tired of being broke and needed the money so badly that it would have been absolutely foolish of me to decline the offer. The me who showed up to those interviews and got hired was not the me who showed up on the first day. The embellishments and feigned self-confidence were gone — all that was left was pitiful, anxious me with one foot out the door in case I had a panic attack and who won’t look you in the face, much less make eye contact. The more and more I learned about the position and the company, the more I wanted out. It turned out to be door-to-door sales, which was not how the job was described in the interviews. If there ever were a job that wasn’t for me, that’d be it. The leader of my team obviously noticed and basically let me quit. So I’m back to being unemployed. Oh well, it was a life lesson. I’m also back to being broke (not that I ever wasn’t). I didn’t even get paid for my training! I’m doing worse and worse things to get a few bucks here and there. It’s shameful. I would have declined the position on the spot, but my family is pushing me so hard to go back to work full time that I couldn’t in good conscience say thanks, but no thanks. I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t think I’m ready. Sadly, you can’t look at someone and see what’s going on in their mind. If they could do that, I’m pretty sure they’d back off. I’ve been telling them I have to make my own decisions, and my priority is getting some help with my mental health. That didn’t really go over well. They think I’m capable because I had my shit (somewhat) together a few years ago, but it’s not a few years ago anymore. I’m still recovering and struggling. The tension in this house is almost tangible, and it’s completely my fault. Well, it’s my fault in the sense that I’m not where they want or expect me to be. It’s not that I don’t want to work or contribute financially. I do. I want a normal existence, but “this life I loathe is in my way”.

So because of all this, I’ve decided to look at getting a complete psych evaluation. I’ve never been given any kind of diagnoses aside from issues with depression, anxiety, and substance abuse. I know that’s not all that’s going on. I’ve had potential diagnoses thrown around like bipolar disorder, BDP, OCD tendencies, suppressed memories of trauma... I’m sure the pills don’t help (“but it sure is funny”). I take them because I can’t handle day to day functioning. Every day it feels like there’s a crisis, and I’ve felt this way long before I ever took a swig of vodka or popped some pills. When I discovered those things, nothing seemed as intense anymore. I stopped jumping at my own shadow. No wonder I’m an addict.

[goodticklebrain]

Q&A August: Kate Pitt, Pocket Dramaturg

I’m so very excited about today’s installment of Q&A August, because it means I get to formally introduce you to Kate Pitt, my pocket dramaturg and Shakespearean soulmate! I first met Kate when she saved my life by letting me crash on the couch in her hotel room before the closing banquet of the 2016 Shakespeare Theatre Association conference. It was my first conference and, by the last day, I was so sleep deprived that I could hardly function. Despite meeting me in such a ragged and incoherent condition, Kate, who was then working in Public Programs at the Folger Shakespeare Library, decided to invite me to the Folger for a public interview/talk event.

You can read up on my visit to the Folger here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. But, long story short, in Kate I found an absolutely kindred spirit. Within half an hour we were completing each others’ sentences, most because we were conversing almost entirely in Shakespeare quotes. Since then we have gone on several Shakespeare adventures together, including a long-overdue joint pilgrimage to Stratford-upon-Avon earlier this year. Despite having spent extended periods of time in close proximity, we have remained friends, which is something of a minor miracle.

Apart from being a delightful human being, Kate is also a genuine Shakespearean powerhouse, with a vast amount of both scholarly and practical Shakespeare knowledge and experience. You might have noticed that many of my recent comics have included the note “Thanks to my pocket dramaturg, Kate Pitt, for consulting with me on this comic.” This is because I quickly fell into the habit of texting Kate with random Shakespeare-related questions, like “IN HOW MANY SHAKESPEARE PLAYS DO SHEEP REGULARLY APPEAR ON STAGE?” Kate, in her infinite patience and bottomless depth of knowledge, would always promptly text me back with answers, including sources. It was like having my own personal dramaturg in my pocket.

Since then I have often brainstormed comic ideas with her, run drafts past for her approval, and asked for her help when wrestling with particularly troublesome punchlines. (Among other things, she helped me finalize the list of questions I’ve been asking everybody this month!) Creating Good Tickle Brain is a very solitary occupation, and for most of the past five and a half years I’ve been essentially operating in a vacuum. It’s been fun, but it’s also been lonely and isolating at times. Being able to bounce ideas off of Kate, and occasionally commiserate with her on the challenges of being self-employed businesswomen in the Shakespeare world, has made both my job and my life immeasurably more enjoyable.

And so, it gives me GREAT pleasure to turn things over to my pocket dramatrug!

1. Who are you? Why Shakespeare?

I’m Kate Pitt. I’m a dramaturg, writer, producer, and director. I grew up watching Shakespeare films with my parents and saw an outdoor Midsummer at the Edith Wharton house in Lenox when I was about seven. The Mechanicals drove up in a real Jeep, the fairies crept out of the actual woods (I was a city kid – trees were a big deal!), and I was hooked. I’ve also had many wonderful teachers.

2. What moment(s) in Shakespeare always make you laugh?

Orlando forlornly waving his arm and saying “It is my arm”? I’M THERE. A really good (bad) Viola-Sir Andrew fight? SIGN ME UP. Benedict being terrible at hiding? THE BEST. Pyramus’ never-ending death? I LOVE IT. The physical comedy in the plays always makes me laugh. There are lines of text that I almost always laugh at, but I’ve been more delighted when those bits are reinterpreted in ways that sacrifice the laugh, but gain something more interesting in its place. Olivia’s wide-eyed “most wonderful!” is a war-horse, but I once heard it delivered with quiet awe rather than schtick and it was shockingly beautiful. “The dead can live again” rather than “another one!”

Mya interjects: Ok, yes, I also love “It is my arm.”

3. What's a favorite Shakespearean performance anecdote?

A Winter’s Tale where the bear was a puppet, and entered down the aisle sniffing at the audience as it slowly stalked Antigonus. The bear nosed at the handbag of an old lady in the front row and growled at her. She growled right back.

Mya interjects: Don’t mess with old ladies’ handbags.

4. What's one of the more unusual Shakespearean interpretations you've either seen or would like to see?

The opening speech of Richard III done as Bunraku puppet theater, but with a person as the puppet. It showed the pain of being “unfinished” so beautifully while also being horrifying and incredibly funny. This Richard was so close to being a person (“a real boy!”) but knew that he lacked some essential, animating humanity and made a conscious decision to hurt people because of it.

5. What's one of your favorite Shakespearean "hidden gems"?

I love watching the characters on the sidelines – the ones who aren’t the center of attention but are telling incredibly rich stories with their silence. Margaret in Much Ado is a great example and I always watch her when the Prince explains why he thinks Hero is disloyal. Margaret knows in that moment that the ruined wedding is her fault but she says and does…nothing. Aufidius and Isabella also have whole histories in stillness.

6. What passages from Shakespeare have stayed with you?

I’ve had Henry V’s “upon the king” and the Scrivener from Richard III on my mind – the responsibility of leadership and the realization of its corruption – but my favorites are the ones I think as my own thoughts and it takes a minute to figure out where they came from. i.e. on a hiking trip in the pouring rain, carrying a heavy pack, and staring up at switchback #492, I thought, “Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back!” It took until the top of the mountain to figure that one out.

Mya interjects: If you’re not familiar with the Scrivener from Richard III (and there’s no reason why you should be,  since his scene is almost always cut), his one speech goes as follows:

SCRIVENER Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings, Which in a set hand fairly is engrossed, That it may be today read o’er in Paul’s. And mark how well the sequel hangs together: Eleven hours I have spent to write it over, For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me; The precedent was full as long a-doing, And yet within these five hours Hastings lived, Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty. Here’s a good world the while! Who is so gross That cannot see this palpable device? Yet who so bold but says he sees it not? Bad is the world, and all will come to naught When such ill dealing must be seen in thought.

I’ve never gotten over the beauty of this line from Pericles – silence may be the perfectest herald of joy, but if you must use words, these ones are pretty great:  

“Give me a gash, put me to present pain, lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me o’erbear the shores of my mortality and drown me with their sweetness.”

7. What Shakespeare plays have changed for you?

All of the plays have changed as I’ve gotten older, but the ones that deal with grief have altered the most. A friend died suddenly when we were eighteen and I reached out for Cleopatra and Constance without consciously knowing why. My father died five years later, and by then I knew that I would find some kind of recognition in the plays and I deliberately went to them. The words were always beautiful, but now I knew what they meant. I must have heard Claudius’ “that father lost, lost his” speech a hundred times but never understood the obscenity of telling someone “the right way” to grieve until someone did it to me. Cordelia comforting the confused and frightened Lear sits close to my heart now, and Ophelia’s madness has method in’t. Hamlet’s “mirror up to nature” didn’t tell me what I’d see or how to respond, but it allowed me look at myself and observe both the shadow of my sorrow and the thing itself when I needed it most.

8. What Shakespearean character or characters do you identify the most with?

Beatrice. I love her wit, her walls and her willingness to climb over them, her delight in her friends’ happiness and her white-hot fury at their pain.

Mya interjects:  Can confirm, Kate is totally Beatrice.

9. Where can we find out more about you? Are there any projects/events you would like us to check out?

You can follow me on Twitter @katepitt and keep up with me on my website www.katepitt.com.

(Back to Mya)  Thanks so much to Kate not only for answering the questions she helped me come up with, but also for being an unfailingly helpful creative and emotional outlet. Get thee a Kate.

COMING NEXT WEEK: A wonderful woman who is training small children to become the next generation of Shakespeare geeks, and two Shakespeare geeks who regularly act like small children! 

[vincent-frankenstein]

To My Heart and Soul

[ 1 | you are here | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | read on AO3 ]

Warnings: major character death, villain/abusive deceit, blood, fighting, panic attacks, creepy imagery

Pairings: logince, hints of moxiety, a tiny smidge of remile and past abusive anxceit

Logan hadn’t slept in a week.

The incident in the graveyard haunted him, chased him day and night, attacked him in his dreams and drove his sleep away. He couldn’t seem to distance himself from it like he distanced himself from everything else, try as he might. There were no scars, no marks, nothing to prove it had actually happened but a few nightmares and a shard of hope that refused to dislodge from his lungs. It was maddening.

Had it actually happened? At first, he’d searched with fervor for the stranger, for the shadows, for something to prove that the incident had been real. He found nothing. Of course he found nothing — the incident made no logical sense. He was delusional, that was all. But still, the damned hope persisted. Could Roman be alive? The thought was far too good to be true, and not logical in the slightest. He had been dead for eleven months. Logan had seen the body. There was no possible way he was still alive.

And there was no way he’d been attacked by shadow creatures. There was no way his broken bones could be healed in mere seconds. There was no way any of that could have happened.

There was no way Roman was coming back.

He had been grieving. The most logical explanation was that he had fallen asleep and dreamed it all. His grief constructed a nonsensical world in which Roman had survived, and in his turmoil, he clung to it, despite how unrealistic he knew it was.

But a logical explanation didn’t keep the nightmares away. It didn’t keep him from flinching at shadows, or searching every face for purple eyes and long, dark bangs. Why couldn’t he stop dwelling? Reason said Roman was dead and gone forever. Logic said he had only been dreaming. So why did his heart continue to insist he was still there?

He couldn’t stop.

He needed to stop.

It took a week of illogical behavior for him to finally make an appointment with his therapist. The post-Roman world he’d finally begun learning how to live in was falling apart, and he needed to rebuild his walls before everything crumbled around him. Dr. Picani had been with him since Roman had died, he’d know exactly what to do. And even if he didn’t… well, Logan needed to talk about this with someone.

He paced back and forth in front of Picani’s chair while he waited for the doctor to arrive, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He’d been like this the whole week, overly tense and overly anxious, like a spring wound far too tight. He feared the moment he’d burst. The soft, warm colors of Picani’s office worked to soothe the awful thoughts cutting through his mind, but did nothing to lessen the hope fear he’d felt since the encounter.

He stiffened as the door creaked open behind him. “Logan! Do you how —” Picani hesitated, taking in Logan’s disheveled, tense figure. “Ah. Not doin’ too good, huh? Take a seat, Lo.”

“I-I am —” His voice cracked and he forcefully cleared his throat, adjusting his tie with a stiff jerk. Talking about his emotions was uncomfortable enough, he refused to break down. “I am concerned that my grief is… resurfacing.”

Picani’s eyebrows furrowed. “How so?” he asked, pulling out his notepad and clicking open his pen. He never moved his gaze from Logan, his amber eyes shining with concern. The words Logan had planned died on his tongue.

He’d pictured this moment countless times since he’d schedule the appointment, planning every possible way to explain his nightmare without sounding like a complete and utter loon. But now, faced with Picani’s searchlight eyes — too much like a friend’s, too concerned, not uncaring enough to explain his problems without expecting pity in return — he found his voice had vanished.

Picani let out a soft sigh. “I won’t force it out of you if you’re not comfy sharing. However, I will say this: you’re allowed to still be grieving. It hasn’t even been a year, Logan. You gotta give yourself time to heal.” He bit his lip, and Logan could feel the incoming cartoon reference. “You know how Pearl couldn’t move on and heal until she could talk about Rose? You can’t expect yourself to be able to heal until you’ve talked about Roman.”

Logan winced. Eleven months, and even the mention of his name sent a pang through his chest. “I am aware of that. I just — I believed myself to be past the denial stage of grief. It is… frustrating.”

“Well, there is no one linear way to grieve. You can think you’re ahead for a while, and then something happens and you’re pushed right back to where you began. It can be frustrating, but you have to remember that grief is more of a cycle than a one-and-done plan.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the end of his pen. “Did something happen, Logan?”

“I…” Logan sighed, shifting in his seat. “Yes. A-A nightmare, I think. I mean — there is nothing else it could have been. As you know, it was our… our anniversary, last week.”

“Yes,” Picani said, his voice soft.

“I visited the graveyard, to see him. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because…” And he went on, forcing the memory from his mouth. It seemed both more real and more imagined all at once, hanging in the air between them, both a memory and a dream.

“And he told me of some plot to… use me to get to Roman, implying that Roman is still alive. It is all highly nonsensical, of course, but I cannot seem to get it out of my head.”

“Ah…” Picani scribbled some quick notes, biting his lip in thought. “It gave you hope, even if it was unrealistic. It makes sense that you’ve subconsciously latched onto it, even though you know it can’t be real. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Logan snapped sharply, running a hand through his hair. He bit back a sigh, his anger fading as quickly as it had appeared. “I just… I don’t want to focus on this anymore. I want to move on.”

“I know,” Picani said gently, “but moving on is a process. One that involves letting yourself feel things, no matter how painful they may be. In order to —”

A distant crash cut him off before he could finish his thought. Sharing a look of confusion, Picani and Logan stood, looking to the door. Picani’s receptionist cried out in fright and Picani started forward, eyes wide, mouth open to call out to her — and before he could, a figure kicked down the door.

“What —” In a flash of blinding green light, Picani was thrown against the wall and held there by an unseen force, face frozen in surprise. Logan stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall as he scrambled to get away from the stranger.

“Sorry, hun. You’re not who I’m after.” The stranger shrugged at Picani, blowing a big bubble-gum bubble and popping it with a sassy flourish. He turned his gaze on Logan, and his eyes, hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, seemed to smoulder with satisfaction. “I’m after a certain ratty-ass thot named Anxiety. And a little birdy told me you’ve seen him.”

Logan stammered, spluttering incoherently. A million implications hit him all at once, with roughly the force of several freight trains, and he nearly topped beneath the weight. The stranger before him was holding Picani to the wall with nothing — which implied magic, impossible magic, but magic nonetheless, like the kind the stranger had used the week before — which meant that the stranger had existed, he hadn’t dreamt it, however illogical that was —

Which meant that somewhere, somehow, Roman could still be alive.

“‘Fess up, babe, I don’t have all day.” From the pocket of his long, flowing leather jacket, the stranger produced a curved blade, the dark wooden hilt engraved with softly glowing symbols. Logan stiffened against the wall, his breath freezing in his lungs.

But through that fear rang one clarifying thought. Roman could still be alive, his heart beat with every passing second, a mantra of hope that he didn’t dare block out. He drew himself to his full height, forcing as much confidence into his stance as one could when faced with a knife-carrying wizard.

“If I give you answers, you will have to give me some in return,” he demanded, pushing through even as his voice trembled. The stranger laughed, a high, barking noise.

“Gurl, you are a riot!” he exclaimed, grinning widely. Logan noticed with a jolt of fear that his teeth were pointed, like fangs. “Trying to bargain, how cute! Listen, hun, I’ll show you a bargain. Tell me where that bitch is, and I won’t kill you. And don’t forget who holds the knife in this relationship.”

He twirled the dagger in his hand. Logan threw any plans of negotiating from his mind. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about,” he insisted. “Who is Anxiety?”

The stranger sighed, rolling his dark eyes. “Tall, dark, edgy, wears a patched cloak, reeks with the scent of complete and utter betrayal? This ringing any bells, gurl?”

Oh. The stranger at the graveyard? Logan hesitated, forcing any recognition from his face before the stranger could read it. The person at the graveyard — Anxiety, apparently — had saved his life. This knife-wielding madman had done nothing but magic his therapist to a wall and threaten him at knifepoint.

“I have no idea who that is,” Logan said evenly. The stranger heaved a heavy sigh, throwing his whole body into the action, and then stuck his knife beneath Logan’s chin in one swift movement, the cold blade nearly close enough to draw blood.

“Try. Again.”

“R-Right.” Logan gulped. “Maybe I do remember him.”

The stranger grinned, eyes lighting up. “There we go! Now, where the fuck is he?” He jutted his hip out to one side, popping another bubble-gum bubble as he waited for Logan’s answer.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, as evenly as he could manage with a knife waiting at his throat. “He left in a hurry, and I haven’t seen him since. I didn’t even know his name before now. I am not involved in this situation!”

“Oh, hun, you are.” The stranger sighed, drawing his knife from beneath Logan’s chin. Logan tried not to sag with relief. Tossing it from one hand to the other, the stranger fixed him with a strange expression. “For whatever reason, good ol’ Anxiety decided to pay you a visit. That’s big, babe, he never visits people. That means he’s interested in you.”

“But why?” Logan asked. “Is it — is it because of Roman?”

That got the stranger’s attention. He froze, the knife nearly tumbling from his hands. “Excuse me? You don’t mean Roman Cygnus?”

The name sent memories flooding through his mind that he shoved away on instinct. “Yes. He’s — he was my husband. Anxiety mentioned something —”

“Holy shit.” The stranger stepped back. “You — he left us for you?”

“You knew him?” Logan’s fear vanished in an instant. He stepped forward. “What do you mean he left you? Is he alive? Where is he?”

The stranger held up his hands, eyebrows furrowed. All the sass had drained from his movements, leaving behind only languid confusion. He regarded Logan in a new light — studying him, almost. “Babe, chill, I —”

“I have not been ‘chill’ since he died! If you have any information, I implore you to give it to me. Then I can assist you in finding this Anxiety.” It was a bold-faced falsehood, he knew; he still had no idea where the cloaked stranger had gone, and even less of an idea of how to find him. Still, he’d managed to grab the reins of the confrontation, and a lead on Roman’s death. Truth no longer mattered.

Not when he could see Roman again.

The stranger spluttered, holding up his hands. “Listen, okay, I don’t —”

And the wall behind him burst into pieces.

[the-house-of-the-nine]

In Depths Below: Epilogue, Part 7

Simultaneously…  & Three Days after The Masquerade Massacre… 

“…Well we cannot certainly sit here any longer wondering whether or not we have some secret we’re missing.”  Verzatea stammered out as she slowly sat down in her council chair and peered around the room.

The council chamber was filled to the brim with people in this moment.  Marseille and Kross were positioned near the head of the table, the vacant seat of the Inquisitor between them.  They were on either side of it, mostly because it was where Kross always stood; and now the pale old elf had taken his place behind the Matron.  

Siida, who kept the company of both Zoei and Marseille with her nearly at all times was right beside the chair of her brother.  The huntress on her other side.  Marseille had his hands planted firmly on the back of her chair at the arch and his eyes would peer around the room looking at the council.

Around the room from there it would be Sennaris; she was often times unavailable due to her being gone for so long in the Honeywell estate.  But ‘Sara’ was dead now, and she no longer needed to suffer that life; she could again reclaim her place here.

Following around the horseshoe shaped table would be the various faces of the Order.  Silas and Aconite who were two of Asphodels former tranquil subjects had remained behind when she abdicated her Speaker position.  She allowed them to stay, mostly because they were fond of Kross and Abbigael.  Who to mention was also present beside them; the blonde elven female eagerly concerned for her masters fate.

Brox sat not too far from them, his feet on the table as usual; puffing away on his ceramic pipe that was jammed full of hallucinogenic herb no doubt.   He would billow out puffs of smoke as he watched on.

On the opposite direction, directly next to Lazarius’ throne was Pyravari.  She would always sit at her brothers right.

“The mongrel dog is dead.  Anything we could have learned from him came when the spell he’d cast on Siida was turned on himself.  He knew nothing.  I for one am glad she ended his miserable life.  The man was a fucking nuisance.”

“Nuisance or not, Pyravari… we’re still without an answer.”  Siida added as she listened to the hate filled speech of her sister.

“He didn’t have anything more to add, and that makes him useless to us. Had you held back, he would still be breathing.  One less life form wasting valuable oxygen for the rest of you.” she snapped back instantly.

“This is not why we are here; nor is it why we are gathered.  Of course we all agree that Dawnseeker out of the way ends an inevitable threat to all of us but..”

Sennaris quickly interjected.  Her reasoning sound and her voice tranquil and calm as she continued.

“We are here to determine our next course of action… to find a way to locate my Ma…Lazarius.”

“The Compeller is correct.  The point we must remain on is what to do next.” Marseille added in.

“It may be plaus-thable, though highly unlikely that I could perhap-ths manufacture a device from the blood within the Pit.  There is a s-thixty s-theven perc-thent chanc-the that I could probably locate him without des-thtroying the Bas-thtille and all of us-th in the process… “

At that point everyone had looked across the table at Whistletorque.

“What?” he said bewildered. “Thos-the are great odds-th!”

“Whether or not it can be done is mute.  Currently we are without several key components to our arsenal.  Koltun has opted to begin taking care of the Alliance problems down within Silithus.  And both Lokiren and Baron Krazzlowe are preoccupied ensuring what little Azerite remains, stays in tact.”

Kross had begun talking as everyone else continued to circle the facts.

“Sending all of us out to scan the planet in order to locate on person is an impossible feat…”

“Not imposs-thible.”

“..and impossible feat.  I think we need to consider what we do know and that is wherever the Inquisitor is currently, we know he is alive… we know he is not in the clutches of the Magistrate…and he is no doubt trying to find a way back to us.” the Steward finished.

“And what if…what if he is somewhere worse?” Siida suggested.

“We just don’t know and can’t think about that Siida.” concluded Kross.

“What if he is with the Alliance?  or worse, the Horde? Thinking he is some Ren’dorei spy?”  she went on, her worrying growing deeper as her thoughts ran.

Marseille would lower his hands and place them on her shoulders to calm her.

“I have prepared already to send an entire fleet out to begin looking, and Koltun has agreed that whatever Illidari have remained here under my command are to go through me.  We can have two hundred soliders and infiltrators tracking Lazarius down, with boots on the ground …tonight.” Pyravari demanded slamming her Saronite gauntlet against the wood grain of the table.

“We cannot just go looking randomly across the world for him.”  Sennaris jumped back in.

“I will ascend to the surface right now and walk the tundras until my legs tear off looking for him if I need to!” the Harbinger shouted back.

“Logic Pyravari…calm your nerves.”  Kross took his chance to try and quell the rage building in the twin. “We need direction and focus.”

“Despite her rash approach, I agree and I’ve already informed the Scholary that we have an equal amount of witches and spellcasters scrying and searching from here to Pandaria by daybreak.” added Verzatea; she was in charge of them after all, though she and Pyravari did not always get along, here they did.

“Pandaria…That… would not be a bad idea in fact.”  Marseille suggested as he looked toward the Confessor.

Everyone peered in the direction of the pale old elf.  What point was he trying to make.

“Explain?” Pyravari demanded; she was always the first to set the bar high, always the first to pick out a possible point when it was made.

“Of course. . .” answered the Shal’dorei with a bowed head. “Kun-Lai…we return there, where this all began.  Between Zoei and myself, we’re excellent trackers.  We will need air support, some sort of ability to scry for him…it could be done.  Track him from the source.”

It was hard to believe but it was honestly the only real plan they had to work from.  And much to everyone’s shock, they actually liked the idea.  Eyes would turn from the Shade as they sought to gain some sort of council from one another, but nothing.  They all seemed to agree.  All save for her.

“And how certain are you that you can actually track him if you do actually get there.”  replied the lich fired Harbinger as she narrowed her field toward the man.

“There is no guarantee.  But my Master is keen.  He is also wise.  I have been thinking in depth about what it would mean to be him; trapped in a situation like this.  Meditated for hours on end; trying to determine a possible way he could have been letting us know all this time.” the old elf halted in his words as he thought on what he’d gained from it.

Siida peered back around her chair toward the Shal’dorei and questioned.

“What…what is it Marseille.” she said softly.

“He expects us to know what he is living through…what he is suffering from…and how he is dying…slowly…” the old elf concluded.

Shocked, everyone seemed to be wondering if he’d hit his head.  If it was just a slightly off beat method of thinking.

“Are you fucking mad? Is this a sick joke?” Pyravari stood from the table and pointed toward the man. “You spill out that sort of incoherent kodo fodder like we’re supposed to eat it?”

“Pyravari plea–” Siida pleaded but was cut off short.

“No, not this time sister!” the Saronite banshee hissed. “Explain yourself Shade!”

Marseille was smiling at her easily riled tendencies, but then again; he knew it was expected for saying it.  He knew how she cared for her twin; her passion here was actually quiet impressive.

“Logically think about it…”  he concluded, pointing toward the open chair.

Again there was silence as the wise elf stood there waiting for someone to understand him.

“The entity bound to him.  The way he is.  The entropy of his own system fails consistently every day leaving bits of residue behind.  There has got to be a trail for us to latch on to.  A way to detect his magical bio-signature.  Some sort of path leading us around from where he was. . .”  Marseille then motioned toward the door; as if directing two points where Lazarius could have been. “To where he ended up…somewhere between…we should be able to find a clue.”

“Westley.”  Pyravari snapped as she drew her attention suddenly over toward the little gnomish doctor.

“Harbinger!” he squawked to attention, standing in his chair and looking toward her.

“What is he saying.” she added, thumbing a clawed digit in the direction of Marseille.

“Well…” he began. “Bas-thically…becaus-the Laz-tharius-th is cons-thtantly interacting with the void on the molecular level.  That means-th there is-th a way to lock onto that s-thignature and locate what he was-th doing and where he was-th.”

The lich fire blue hues of the cold ice queen would glanced between the two men.  Her doubts were solid, but if Whistletorque could follow it, she could trust him.  She had taken a liking to this particular gnome, and no others.

“So…possible.”

“Poss-thible but very tricky.  Even if we could detect his-th bio s-thignature, I can’t even begin to promis-the that the trail or res-thidue left over would read out; it could be nano digits-th at this point.  But, I can forgo the blood devic-the and begin cons-thtructing a means-th to locate the particles of energy Laz-tharius-th is leaving behind… maybe a s-theventy perc-thent chance…maybe.”  the gnome concluded as he sat back down.

“If the doctor can formulate only a simple means to do so…It could be done.  I will personally see to that.  And from there, allow the trackers to track.  And the eyes to see.  Mouths to speak and ears to listen.  We fan out.  Find information and collect our data.”  Marseille had been right there to pick up the conversation.

“Not randomly…and not without a direction to move from.” the often quiet Confessor added as she was listening carefully.

“Correct.  We won’t have to waste valuable time needlessly looking where we should not be.” the pale elf ended.

“I will still send what forces we have available out to begin hunting around the area of that mountain and the lower altitudes while we wait.  Since it was where any of us last saw him, we start there.  Perhaps they never made it from the mainland.  Forced to land somewhere in the Valley…”  Pyravari had concluded and made a point..

“Yes, and I can make sure to divide the forces of scryers between your own and whatever Marseille needs.” added Verzatea; and for once they both agreed too.  There was no glaring, not need for bickering, just both accepted it and nodded.

“Then we are in agreement… this is is.  We start at the beginning and make our push to the end.”  came the wise old voice of the steward.  

“We organize, and have everything ready by daybreak.  Id like whoever is not going to be in the field to aid us, here; we would like to strive to get those odds a bit higher Doctor Whistletorque, and I am certain with a bit more time and ingenuity you could increase those odds to say . . maybe, ninety?” Pyravari added again, noting the doctor would perk up at her encouragement.

Kross was now standing at the front of the table beside where Lazarius’ chair was vacant.  His ghostly pale eyes peering from person to person.  His own gloved fingers tracing the magnificent serpent crescent along the arch of its top.  His thoughts were nearly always free floating, and hardly lingered; but this was their last chance.

There was a hanging silence that befell the group.  Each one of them knew secretly that the task at hand was even more far fetched and outlandish than they’d hoped it would have been.  They could pretend that it was their best option; but they all had to face the facts that were creeping up on them quickly.  Lazarius could very well just be somewhere trapped; able to survive due to his parasite, down a crack in the soil.  

It was inevitable though that one day; he would pass.  They would be alone.  And they would either crumble and fall or they would succeed.   Until that day actually came though, it would be up to these people in this room to stand tall and harden their willpower to ensure the rest of the people depending on their wisdom and prowess did not also lose faith and fall.

Each one of them rose.  Each one looking from left to right; passing along from person to person.  Each one of them understood.

“We don’t stop until this is over…” Pyravari cut through the silence with her cold tone. “We don’t stop…until we find him.”

They all nodded in agreement, and turned to exit the chamber of the Nine.   It was a somber walk, though filled with one dissolving shred of hope which still contained their optimism.  It was their only beacon.  Until the light of the hall broke their sacred meeting, and poured in on them like a rising sun.

They were stunned.  Shocked in awe as the figure of a man stepped into frame; behind him a towering slender curvy figure and a creature pair of sorts.  The collective group stood together against this set of persons; unsure who would be so bold as to interrupt their meeting.

“How dare you set foot in these hallowed chambers; give me one good reason I should not split you in half where you stand?!”  Pyravari snapped; she was at the forefront and her runeblade was drawn on an angle toward the intruder.

“It would make welcoming me home… all the more difficult I suppose…”  

A voice which shook the very walls around them and instantly caused the silence to break as the blade hit to floor along with the collective jaws of the order.

“LAZARIUS …”

The End…

[kierkehaard]

Do Facts Care About Your Feelings?

Facts Don’t Care About Your Feelings (or, for short, FDCAYF). 

We’ve all heard this sentiment echoed before. In Ben Shapiro’s PragerU episode of the same name, on his Twitter feed, from the mouths of the millions of conservatives and alt-righters who tune in to his podcasts - the right wing has essentially heralded it as the be all and end all of one-liners to ‘destroy libtard SJWs’. At first glance, it seems like an impenetrable argument: after all, if facts did care about one’s feelings, then they’d cease to be objective. 

One thing I’ll credit Shapiro with is how effective this phrase is at conveying what he’s trying to say. It accomplishes multiple things at the same time. 

It:

1. Labels his opposition as ‘emotional’,

2. Makes a statement about the nature of facts, 

3. Establishes the possession of facts as incompatible with his opposition, and

4. Therefore implies that his opposition is blinded from the truth by feelings.

Hold up. Let’s take a look at Point 2 for a moment. It almost seems like FDCAYF is an epistemic claim; he’s discussing how facts work, and how we can get to know them.  I thought it might be interesting to see just how much this one-liner holds up to philosophical inspection.

Spoiler: eh, not much. 

How The Argument Works

First, let’s talk about what exactly Ben is saying here. He’s making an analysis of what facts are, and proposing a certain feature that all facts share (that feelings do not affect them). In order to figure out whether this is correct, we of course need to understand what a fact is. 

Many people, including some academic philosophers, would roughly define a fact as ‘a proposition that is true’. What this means is that, for something to be a fact, it must be truth-apt (be a statement that can be true or false), and it must be true. The reason why the first criterion is important is because it discounts statements that simply cannot possibly be true or false, like instructions or exclamations. ‘Go do your homework’ cannot be a fact because it doesn’t propose anything; likewise with something like ‘oh my god’ or ‘blimey’. On the other hand, a statement that does propose something that can be true or false like ‘tigers have four legs’ can be facts, as long as they’re true. That last bit is why ‘tigers have four legs’ is a fact, but ‘the grand canyon is a species of tiger’ is not; the former is a true proposition, while the latter is a false one. 

I would think that most supporters of Ben would agree with this idea of what facts are; I imagine most people would. But this poses a problem for FDCAYF. After all, there are some true propositions where feelings and perspectives do matter. The statement ‘Billy loves basketball’ proposes something that could either be true or false. Let’s also assume that Billy does, in fact, love basketball. The truth of this claim does depend on feelings - in this case, Billy’s. Going by this idea of what facts are, we have to accept that ‘subjective facts’ do exist, and that therefore there exist some facts that do ‘care about your feelings’. Many philosophers are comfortable with accepting this, but obviously a hardcore Ben Shapiro fan would want to defend the FDCAYF. Admittedly, this idea of ‘subjective facts’ is quite nitpicky when looking at the facts Ben Shapiro usually refers to when he raises FDCAYF; stats, scientific studies - objective facts. So for the sake of good faith, maybe we can raise a definition of facts that’s more charitable to Ben Shapiro: ‘facts are propositions that are objectively true.’ What we mean by objective here is mind-independent, with the truth of the statement not depending on any feelings. This way, the only ‘facts’ that we have to deal with are the ones that Ben Shapiro actually approaches. It also means that he by definition cannot be wrong about facts not caring about your feelings, which is basically shooting this entire analysis in the foot, but bear with me. In the next few sections, we’ll discuss how even this charitable idea of what Ben Shapiro means by ‘facts’ doesn’t really give us the full picture of how facts work. 

(PS: it’s worth noting that someone who sees the world as something leaning towards Idealism would reject this new definition as incoherent altogether, since under Idealism there would technically be no such thing as a mind-independent, wholly objective fact. But that’s besides the point, so we’ll save Idealism for another future post.)

Fact Versus Ideology

So. Let’s pretend everything we said earlier didn’t matter. We assume that facts by definition don’t care about your feelings, and so accommodate what Ben Shapiro uses as ‘facts’. Here’s the irony, though: it’s precisely by accommodating what Ben Shapiro says in context that we see this idea of facts fall apart too. Let me explain why.

The running trend with Ben Shapiro is that he’d claim some fact, then he’d promote it as an objective reason to support some conservative stance. For the sake of example, we’re gonna talk about the topic he arguably most famously does this with: transgender rights. More specifically, when he talks about trans people, he would point to the fact that they’re ‘biologically male/female’ to justify not referring to them by their preferred pronouns. (case in point here and here). He would use some biological fact, like how a male-to-female trans person would still possess XY chromosomes, to say that the conservative stance towards trans people is factual, and therefore conclude that those who disagree are simply ‘being offended by facts’ and ‘factually wrong’. 

Going back to our Shapiro-approved definition of facts, we can see that his claim on male-to-female trans people possessing XY chromosomes is indeed a fact. However, Ben is trying to push for something deeper than just stating a fact; he’s also making a call to action. The argument he’s forming here is that ‘trans women are biologically male’, ‘therefore trans women are men’, ‘therefore we ought not to call them women’. This is the part where it becomes real messy, because we realise we aren’t just dealing with facts in and of themselves, but rather their political relevance. And while the facts themselves could be independent of how one feels, the political values that one infers from them - as we will see - are not. 

What makes the fact ‘male-to-female trans people possess XY chromosomes’ more politically relevant than, say, the fact ‘koalas have smooth brains’? It’s the context under which we perceive the political. In other words, It is what we deem as politically problematic or politically relevant that leads us to decide which facts matter. The fact that trans men possess XY chromosomes might be a matter of huge importance to a neoconservative like Ben Shapiro, who thinks that one’s identity is defined biologically, but that fact would be less politically relevant to a more progressive-minded person - at least in determining a trans person’s identity - because they think that identity is primarily defined socially. It simply goes back to one’s ideology, and one’s general worldview of how society operates. Another example would be how the fact that ‘there are 6 times more empty homes than homeless people’ would be a matter of huge relevance to a communist, or a left leaning liberal, but would at the very most be a matter of curious interest to a conservative, simply because their ideology already inherently constructs an ‘if you didn't earn it, you don’t deserve it’ mentality. A fascist would find the fact that ‘African Americans, despite forming 13% of the population, constitute 50% of the prison demographic’ to be extremely politically relevant, while a socialist democrat would not, seeing that as explained ideologically through systemic oppression and injustice in the judicial system. There are countless examples we can choose from, because there are countless ideologies that each enable and are enabled by the facts that they find important. This isn’t to say that all ideologies are the same and that the one we choose to lean towards is a matter of subjective taste; it simply means that we shouldn’t deceive ourselves into thinking there is a fact-based reason to subscribe to one, and that people of other ideologies are not beholden to facts. In actuality, political discourse isn’t about what the facts are, it’s about which facts are important and give motivation to act. Ben Shapiro may be right in claiming that ‘[certain] facts don’t care about your feelings’, but how we use these facts does care about our values and worldview. 

Reason Versus Feeling

Our earlier paragraph discusses how he conflates possessing facts with possessing rational beliefs about what these facts mean, and we have gone through why this is problematic. But in making this assumption Ben actually commits to a more fundamental claim about rationality, and that is the drawing of a dichotomy between rational action and emotion. That is, he’s saying that one cannot be both emotional and rational. To be fair to him, this is not a very uncommon idea; think of the many times we’ve seen people say ‘stop being so emotional and use your head’. But that way of thinking, of ‘Reason versus Feeling’, might not be as clear and obvious as we think. 

Let’s start with understanding what it means to be rational. I think it’s fairly uncontroversial to say that to be rational is to act in accordance with reason; that is, to do what one has more reason to do. The prospect of getting a free chocolate bar could give me a reason to steal from the convenience store, but the stronger motivations of not wanting to be arrested for theft and not wanting to do something morally wrong would give me more reason not to steal, making not stealing the rational decision for me (well, assuming a perfectly normal circumstance). So what exactly is a reason? Such an abstract concept might be hard to define. But looking at the previous three reasons we’ve raised, we can try to come up with some necessary features of a reason. For example, we know that a reason can’t exist in and of itself. There’s no such thing as simply ‘a reason’. It’s always ‘a reason to do x’, or ‘a reason to believe x’. Reasons are always predicated on some other action or thought. This brings us to our second, and more important, feature of reasons: they always exist to justify or motivate a certain action or thought. They inform us about our motivations in acting on/believing something, and it’s through weighing our many reasons for and against this that we decide what is reasonable and rational. This obviously means that reasons are extremely diverse, and is the reason why philosophers like to make different categories of reasons when analysing them: we’ve got object given reasons (reasons derived from certain features of the object in question), state given reasons (reasons derived from the current state we’re in), hedonic reasons (reasons that involve our own personal pleasure and happiness)… but the category of reasons we’re gonna talk about today is much, much simpler than all of that: what about emotional reasons?

When we get ‘emotional’, it usually doesn’t just happen randomly out of the blue. Something happens, or we’re in a certain state of mind that makes us react emotionally. Certain states of affairs gives us reasons to act emotionally, and then we evaluate whether or not said emotional reaction is a justified response. Granted, many times we end up acting emotionally and irrationally. But that doesn’t mean that every emotional reaction is not reasonable or rational. If Steve steals my lunch, it is reasonable for me to be annoyed and tell Steve off. It’s not reasonable for me to murder him in a ravenous fit of wrath, but that’s because I can evaluate that this emotional response in particular is not warranted. In fact, think about every time someone got mad and asked one of his friends ‘was I being unreasonable for acting that way?’, or every time a parent had to ask themselves whether they were too harsh in their reprimanding of their child. If emotional reasons didn’t exist, then these questions would be useless and meaningless, since every emotional reaction would be irrational. Arguably, the whole subreddit r/AmITheAsshole deals with the problems of sorting out emotional reasons and deciding whether or not the emotional reaction these reasons led to was reasonable. The assumption about the distinction between rationality and emotion that Ben Shapiro makes when he says ‘Facts Don’t Care About Your Feelings’, then, while not one that is altogether uncommon, is not really all that sustainable, since our feelings and the way we act from them can be evaluated from a rational lens. 

As a matter of fact, even our favourite neoconservative himself does this evaluation all the time. Every time Ben decides that a condescending retort is in order, every time he reacts with incredulity at another ‘outlandish leftist headline’, he is deeming this specific emotion as an appropriate reaction. But we usually don’t think of these things as acting emotionally. The point I’m trying to get at here is more than just Ben’s inconsistencies with his own dogma; it’s driving more towards how we treat emotion as a whole. We don’t usually think to call contempt and condescension emotional, despite the fact that they technically are. In fact, we’d celebrate them as ‘savage’ or ‘absolutely destroying’ someone (think ‘Ben Shapiro versus SJW cringe compilations’). On the other hand, we’re quick to see those who express outrage and anger and compassion as being emotional (and, to some, therefore irrational). Our discussions and analyses about what exactly constitutes reason and how emotion fits in are all well and good, but the discussion simply wouldn’t be complete unless we also talk about how we as a society approach this issue. And judging by the looks of it, we evaluate what is ‘emotionally irrational’ based not on what actually is emotional, but rather based on what emotions are socially approved. Delivering a ‘sick burn’ is perfectly reasonable and great, but getting ‘triggered’ is uncool and going off-the-hook. Worryingly, what we judge as being an irrational emotional response isn’t just about the scale and extent of the response, but the type of emotional response itself, and it’s not altogether clear why we should believe that some emotions are simply inherently more irrational than others. Natalie Wynn, better known as Contrapoints, puts it better than I think I ever could

Perhaps a more accurate, albeit less catchy, phrase that describes what Ben Shapiro means in FDCAYF is that ‘Rationality Doesn’t Care About Your Feelings’. But the line he draws between the rational and the emotional, as we’ve seen, doesn’t really work all too well. Practically speaking, when we’re dealing with issues as sensitive and important as politics, sometimes being emotional is precisely the reasonable thing to do. 

Conclusion

Writing what’s essentially an entire essay on one single statement, on hindsight, might have been a bit of an overkill. But I do think there’s a lot to be said about FDCAYF and how it’s used. I absolutely agree that we should be looking at hard truths instead of what our ‘feelings’ would want us to believe, and I absolutely agree that people can sometimes get unreasonably emotional. But the truth isn’t as simple as that. Emotions aren’t something to be reviled and altogether avoided in politics, and we can’t separate facts from the ideological context that enables them to be political. And while Ben Shapiro and his followers aren’t particularly known for their attention to nuance, I think it is at least important that this nuance be known. 

[sunflowerheartwriting]

Munchkin

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! I was inspired by a twitter thread I read but can’t remember where it is, so if you’ve seen it, you know the feels you got when you read it too. Hope you like the oneshot!! 

Prompt: First Valentine’s Day

“Papa, can I pleeeaassee stay home for Valentine’s Day?” The small girl cried, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout as she hugged her father tight around his middle.

The tall man ruffled her dark curly hair chucking softly, “You look too much like your mother when you do that and no. You have school, so you have to go.”

He watched in amusement as she thumped her head repeatedly against his chest whining and mumbling incoherent words his ears couldn't pick up. Even though she was the oldest of their three children, she inherited her short stature from her mother.

“Please dad. I don’t want to go.” She mumbled into his chest, shaking slightly.

She’s been begging him and his wife for a week to stay home, promising that she’ll be good and do whatever they say if she could just stay home this one day. His amusement quickly turned into concern as he bent down, balancing on the balls of his feet to become eye level with her, wiping the small tears that streaked her face.

“Alright munchkin,” Gajeel sighed, “are you gonna tell me what this all about or what?” He questioned softly cupping her cheeks in his hands as if any moment she’ll break. She just shook her head no, refusing to meet her father’s eyes. “Emma? I thought Luke was your usual valentine. Is he not this year?”

When her lips curled into a deep frown, he swore under his breath mentally planning out how we was gonna beat Natsu and his son into a heart shaped pulp.

“He got really sick a few days ago. He’s a little better now, but Aunt Lucy want to make sure he’s better before she sends him back to school.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why you want to stay home.”

“Gajeel,” a soft voice spoke as walking into Emma’s bedroom. He felt her small hand touch his shoulder lightly, causing him to look up at his small wife. “I think I know why.”

He shot her a quizzical glace before looking back at his eldest daughter. “Is it because everyone else will get presents from their valentines at school?” Levy asked with a soft smile.

Emma nodded her head, tears welling up in her eyes again. “Everyone has been talking about it and I’m the only one in my class without a valentine because Luke is sick and it sucks big time, because I have his valentines gift and he has mine but we can't trade them because we cannot see each other and everyone is gonna be happy when they get chocolate and teddy bears while I sit there with nothing.” she rambled on causing her dad to sit there with wide eyes as he absorbed his daughter’s distress.

When she was done, she sucked in a deep breath looking at both her parents with begging eyes. It was her mother that talked first. “Well Honey, you still have to go to school tomorrow, but we can pick you up early maybe?”

“Nope, I have a better idea.” Gajeel spoke with a grin as he stood up to his full height, ruffling his daughter’s hair one more time. “But, you're still going to school, now go to bed!” He said nudging her towards her messily made bed.

Emma groaned and dramatically flopped herself onto the mattress before scrambling under the covers. “Fine!”

“Goodnight,” Her parents said in unison, “we love you.” They received a grunted ‘love you too,’ before she slammed her head into the pillow.

Once they were down the hall and in there room, Levy turned around to face her husband with skeptical eyes and hands on her hips. “What are you planning?”

Looping his arms around her waist to bring her closer to him, he looked down at her with a grin she only knew was trouble. “Gajeel Redfox, you better not embarrass your daughter!”

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

The next morning Lily dropped the kids off at school wishing Emma a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ before she begrudgingly got out of her uncle’s truck.

She thanked Lily for the ride and dragged her feet to the front entrance of the school. Disgust and sadness was what she felt as soon she saw all the lovey dovey couples and friends exchanging gifts. She did bring some for her friends but they weren’t as nice as the one she made for Luke.

“Four periods, I just have to make it through four periods and lunch and I’m home free.” She groaned walking to her class. Even though she was in a foul mood she was still dressed for the holiday. Red ribbon tying her hair back, black sweater with a red heart and jeans.

With the second period almost over, Emma was ready to just skip school altogether or hide out in the library until the final bell rung. But she knew, she would get in serious trouble with either options. Slumping down into her seat, groaning lightly, she listened to her teacher drone on about the history of Magnolia, when a knock on the door interrupted them.

Stopping mid-lecture, the teacher welcome the new comer who walked in with a huge panther like teddy bear that had a red envelope secured in its paws and a big heart shape box of chocolates. ‘Must be nice…’ Emma thought as jealousy seeped into her bones.

“Sorry to interrupt but I have a special delivery for a girl in this class,” The delivery man spoke, causing the most of the girls to interrupt in ‘Me! Me! It’s for me!’ “It’s for a uh,” the deliveryman shifted the panther in his arm to take out a piece of paper from his pocket, “Emma the Munchkin.”

Emma quickly perked up at the sound of her name and the nickname her dad called her since birth. She must’ve sat there looking like a deer in the headlights for a while because her teacher motioned for her to get up and come to the front. Standing up, her body felt like it was on autopilot as she walked to the gifts, accepting the gifts that were definitely bigger than what she could actually carry. But, with a little maneuvering she was able to. With the chocolates on her desk and panther in her lap, she slowly took the card from its paws and opened it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Emma! This is just Pt. 1 of your two part present. Love, your secret admirer. ;)” The card read with terrible handwriting and cutely drawn hearts and screws, she knew were her father’s doing.

Sniffling, she quickly slide the card back into the envelope before hugging the panther tightly, trying to keep herself from crying in the middle of class.

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

With the school day over, Emma was smiling like an idiot as she walked out of the building to the parent pick up, but before she could look for her parent’s car she was stopped by a dark skinned man dressed in a three piece suit and sunglasses.

“Lily?” She asked startled by the sudden man that stepped in front of her.

The man smiled, bowing at the waist, “Yes, ma’am. I’m here to escort you to your chariot where your date awaits.” He said, taking the gifts from her, walking in the direction of her ‘chariot’.

“My date?” She quipped looking up at Lily who only smiled down at her.

It didn’t take long for them to reach her parent’s car, where her father was waiting, wearing a white suit holding a bouquet of roses and a wide grin. “I promised your mom and Lily no song, so I guess flowers will have to do.” Gajeel beamed at the sight of his stunned daughter. Quickly adjusting the flowers into one hand, he welcomed the girl that flung herself into his arms.

[panda-noosh]

When The Paladins Meet You At A Party {Headcanon}{Request}

   Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could do a hc or a small sceniro for each paladin (whatever that feels best for you) when the paladins meet the s/o at a ball. The s/o is the servant and the paladin is the guest. The paladin are pretty popular with the other guest (both males and females). But then he see you and the paladin cant help but notice you. There is alot of pretty girls (and handsome boys) at the ball but there is something about you that the paladin cant help but notice. And the paladin and the s/o get to talk to each other when the s/o is offering drinks. My questions is what do the paladin think of the ball? What do each paladin see in the s/o that they cant help but notice. And what do the s/o and the paladin talks about?

   Shiro:

   Shiro doesn't want to be at the ball.

   he's a bit of a party-ruiner, to be honest. he overanalyses every little detail about the party until he physically can't bare to be there.

   the thing he hates about this ball is most definitely the fact that there's servants.

   he's always been against that kind of thing with him himself once having worked for the Galra in similar conditions. even though he knows it is all consensual and that you are getting rewarded for the job you are doing, it still makes his blood boil that there are people who think they are better than you just because of the job you are doing.

   the thing he notices first about you would be the fact that you seem to be the busiest servant out of them all. people are hollering you over, and he can see the clear amount of stress etched on your features due to you not being able to keep track of the drink orders being yelled at you left right and centre.

   but nonetheless, you still end up drifting over to him and the other Paladins and asking them what drinks they want, and Shiro becomes kind of shocked because it's obvious you already have your hands full with everybody else.

   you genuinely just want to do your job right, and Shiro can admire that about you since he knows full well he wouldn't have the same amount of patience for everybody else that you do.

   you two would start to talk after Shiro offers to help you carry the drinks around, and it just kind of spirals out of control. Shiro thought he would only be talking to you for a few minutes, at most, but suddenly the second hour has rolled around and he feels like he could continue on talking for the rest of the damn night.

   you two literally talk about everything – one minute you're telling jokes and the next thing Shiro is telling you in a low voice that you don't have to work picking up other peoples messes if you don't want to. this, of course, makes you a blushed mess and your humble self tells him that it's okay and that this is what you signed up for.

   Shiro would then promise to keep in touch with you, and by the end of the month, you've won yourself a spot on the castle ship, working alongside the Paladins.

    Keith:

   now Keith would 100% rather be anywhere else.

   maybe it's a Blade of Marmora training mission for him to go to the ball – see how he integrates amongst others, and even though he should be treating it like any normal mission, he literally can't.

  being around such high-class folk is making him uncomfortable to the point where he genuinely can't even look people in the eye. his suit feels too small for him, and he feels like he most definitely shouldn't be there.

    he spends most of the night huddled up in the corner, ordering a large amount of drink and downing it, just waiting for the night to pass on so he can go home.

   but then he spots you, and suddenly he isn't so eager to leave.

   because you've just spilt drink down a mans white shirt on accident, and the man is grabbing your wrists and yelling at you, and you seem to be on the verge of tears and maybe it's the alcohol buzzing in his veins but suddenly Keith is on his feet, marching towards the scene.

   his fist digs itself into the mans face within seconds, and the man is stumbling back with blood drooling down his face.

   Keith doesn't even give him a chance to explain before he's whirled around and is walking off.  

    he hides himself in the bathrooms, wanting to be alone but also wondering who you were and why you were here. you weren't dressed in any of the fancy clothes that the other people were wearing – you were wearing an apron if Keith remembered correctly.

   his suspicions are confirmed whenever the bathroom door swings open to reveal you, panting and red faced and wide eyed and overall terrified looking.

    “what the hell did you do that for?”

   Keith is shocked at the first words that slip out of your mouth, but that only adds to the charm you had over him. he finds himself laughing at the way you introduced yourself, and as he laughs his head falls forward and he finally catches a glimpse of his split knuckles.

    he only laughs harder.

   you grunt and slide to your knees in front of him, taking his hand in yours and dragging him over to the cold tap, running the injuries beneath the water. Keith is most definitely drunk at this point, asking you weird questions that he would later regret, but you don't make an attempt to pull away nor do you seem bothered by it.

   most of the conversation is taken up by Keith's incoherent drunken slurs about how he's going to “kill that man if he puts his hands on you one more time.” you're blushing the entire time because this strange – quite attractive – man is talking about protecting you as if you had known each other your whole lives.

    Keith would later wake up in his bed on the castle ship after being hauled home by one of the Blade of Marmora's, only to find a phone number in his pocket with the words: keep your promise. help me get out of here.

   it's safe to say that Keith does indeed help you get out of there.

   Lance:

    man of the god damn night, let me tell you.

   as soon as he walks into that ballroom, he is no longer Lance the Goofball Paladin. he is Lance the Suave, Gucci King of Space because damn this boy cleans up well.

   he's honestly all for it. it's like he suddenly melts into this persona of being some posh bloke with millions, even though he's only just returned from falling over air in the car park.

   but nobody needs to know that, and nobody picks up on it because Lance is wearing this fine ass suit with his hair slicked back perfectly and he's standing tall and socialising with everyone in the best way possible.

   all the other Paladins are completely and utterly shocked, because they were almost positive that Lance would be the one who would ruin this entire plan with his childishness, but he's walking around like he threw the damn party in the first place.

   all is going well until he sees you, though, and for a moment he slips back into his old ways, nearly blowing his cover completely.

   he sees you across the room near the bar. though this is most definitely a fancy ball, you're working with vodka shots. not only that, but you're setting fire to the tops of the vodka shots, surprising everybody with your bartender skills.

   including Lance, because in moments he's pushed his way to the front of the crowd to catch first hand just what you're doing.

   and he's in absolute awe as you do this, juggling the matches before swiftly setting the alcohol alight and passing the shot glasses out with a flick of your wrist.

   you just seem like such a natural, and Lance is intrigued.

   even though he knows he shouldn't, he really can't help himself.

   within minutes, he's taken off his blazer, rolled up his sleeves and has hopped over the counter, asking you to teach him how you do it.

   you stare at him for a moment, debating whether to tell him to get back behind the counter or actually teaching him how to do it.

   well, you don't really get a say because Lance is already pouring a shot of vodka and with his free hand, he's scrambling for the matches. the only choice you have now is to teach him, or else he's at genuine risk of setting fire to the damn place.

    so you snatch the matches out of his hand and teach him the few tricks you had up your sleeve. it's not really that difficult, but Lance still takes immense pride in himself whenever he gets it right.

   “oh yeah! Lancey Boy is a pro! just as we expected!”

   you think that's over, but Lance isn't done yet. he ends up inviting you over to his table during your break, and you two sit and chat for ages.

   Lance is surprised when, at the end of the night, he realises that he actually let his persona down whenever he was talking to you. he had walked in with the idea of being this posh, nobleman for the night drilled into his head, but you had completely ripped that wall down and you didn't even realise it.

   Hunk:

   he is most definitely uncomfortable, but he is determined to enjoy himself.

   he actually volunteered to go to the ball alongside Shiro and Lance, because he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. that was literally all the coaxing he needed – he just wanted to see what was happening.

   obviously, the first thing that catches his eye is the food. not only is there an all you can eat buffet on the far side of the room, but food is being carried around on little silver dishes and Hunk cannot believe his very eyes.

   “they're handing out food for free, guys! we've hit the jackpot!”

   and then suddenly he's running through the damn foyer, forgetting completely that his shoes are new and this is a polished floor and his shoes currently have no grip on them and – BAM!

   he's collided with somebody and fell flat on his face in the middle of the ballroom.

   immediately he's scrambling upright, embarrassment clawing at everything in his body. he tries to ignore the snickers from the posh people around him, instead putting all of his attention onto the person he had just knocked down in his excitement of tiny-metal-plate food.

   you groan and roll over, and immediately Hunk's voice disappears and his eyes are bulging out of his head and he's stuttering because holy mother of god.

   you're attractive. you are very attractive. and Hunk is 90% sure he's seen you before.

   “little help here.”

   okay, now that he's heard your voice, he's 100% sure he's seen you before.

   because you're Y/N L/N. the person who used to sit behind him at the Garrison. you're Y/N L/N. the person who everybody thought was going to go on to do amazing things, and get your pilots licence and take over space.

    if there was ever anybody who the class thought was going to go far with their place at the Garrison, it was you.

   and yet here you were, carrying plates of food around for other people.

   you look up and meet Hunk's eyes, and Hunk can instantly tell that you recognise him as well. besides, he, Lance and Pidge were the students who just disappeared off the edge of space with nothing but their trouble left behind them.

    you were certain you'd never see him again.

   “Hunk? Hunk Garrett?”

   Hunk helps you up quickly, his hands shaking and his eyes wide in shock. for some reason, he kind of wants to hide you from Lance. he doesn't want Lance seeing you and breaking between the both of you.

    Hunk would eventually come to his senses and lead you to the bathroom to clean up the food which now stained the front of your shirt. he'd awkwardly try and dab some of it off of your shirt before you slap his hands away and tell him you can do it yourself.

   “you can go ahead and laugh, you know.”

  “hm?”

    “go ahead. my piloting career didn't exactly go as planned. i'd be in fits right now.”

   the words make Hunk kind of sad, because he doesn't want you to feel like a failure just because you're career as a pilot didn't work out.

    Hunk knew for a fact that you could fly a jet better than anybody. he had seen you do it himself, and whether or not you had a licence to prove that was something that wasn't very important to him. he had seen it for himself.

   and he tells you this, temporarily stunning you into silence when he begins to go into detail about his new-found job – to save the damn universe.

   “damn, Garret. who would have thought you, Lance and ol' Pidge would be the Chosen Ones.”

   Hunk laughs, and he feels oddly comfortable around you. it's nice to talk to an old friend once in a while.

    Pidge:

   she is here on strict business and nothing else.

   I don't even think she dressed up for the occasion. she's marching through this crowd of fancily-dressed noble-people in her green and white shirt and shorts, a laptop tucked beneath her arm with her strongest game face on.

   it's clear she's not meant to be there, but she's hoping that the fancy-dressed Allura can cause a big enough distraction for her that she won't get noticed.

   and it seems to be working for a little while. Pidge finds herself a comfortable corner and gets to work on trying to hack the main system of the ballroom whilst Allura dances to the soft music, getting the attention off of Pidge.

   for a little while.

   it all goes downhill once you stop her.

   Pidge looks up whenever two feet appear in her vision – somebody is standing over her. you're standing over her.

   Pidge silently curses herself before looking up, and her eyes meet yours. she's mildly surprised to see you smiling, almost in amusement at the way she's bundled up in the corner, laptop placed on her lap. she really does look out of place, but she was hoping nobody would notice.

    “hi. i'm Pidge. can I help you?”

   she knows immediately that you're a member of staff. if she's lucky, maybe you'll be one of the staff who actually hate working here and you'll cut her some slack.

   you are, but you're also dedicated to your job and you really need money.

   “ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. I don't think you're name is on the guest list.”

   “you don't even know my name.”

   “Kate Holt. sister of Matthew Holt. good friend of mine.”

   Pidge is stunned into immediate silence, looking up at you in shock. she doesn't recognise you at all, but if you're a friend of Matt's, then surely-

   you slump down next to her and take a peak of what she's doing over her shoulder. immediately Pidge tries to pull away, tries to hide the screen of her laptop but you simply roll your eyes and grab it out of her lap, looking through what she is doing as if you two have known each other your whole lives.

   and Pidge lets you, still lost in trying to figure out who you are and how you knew Matt.

   “ah, hacking the main system of the house. you could have just asked, you know? I can give you the codes if you really want them.”

   Pidge nearly chokes on her damn tongue.

   she watches you as you punch a bunch of numbers into the computer and she watches as every single piece of information she came here to collect is downloaded onto her laptop in record breaking time.

    did you just-

   you smile, hand the laptop back to her and get ready to leave, but Pidge can't just let you leave after that.

   so she's suddenly stumbling forward, grabbing your hand and whirling you around before pushing you back into the corner, whisper-yelling at you to tell her what the hell just happened.

   you roll your eyes at her again, a cute smile playing at your lips as you begin to explain that you had once been captured by Galra – you were part of the group of people that Matt was tied up with back whenever he was caught on the ship.

   “i'd recognise you from anywhere, Pidge. he never stopped talking about you.”

   this would immediately lead to a long conversation about the capture you went through, and how you were never really that close to Matt but you see everybody who was on the ship with you as a friend due to the experiences you shared.

    Pidge knows she should leave, tell Allura that the task took a little bit less time than she had planned, but she's completely rooted in place.

   her curiosity peaks, and she ends up giving you her contact number, wanting nothing more than to continue talking to you.

  you two end up talking every night after she leaves, even if the conversation no longer revolves around Matt.