#i try to not make judgements usually but this is distinctive somehow

[raventhekittycat]

watching the mv for all at once and tho they sound exactly as they should they look like washed up idols who are no longer popular....

[angelpuns]

50Au Part 12!

The walk was longer than he remembered. Then again, he usually portaled there, so it feeling like a million years was understandable. Not to mention how exhausted and beat up he was at this point. 

Leo wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in his bed and not move for a long, long time, but that just was not an option right now. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, not with those guys still in a cage in his home. 

He'd ensured they couldn't get out, but their presence was not gonna do anything good for his nightmares. 

It was perhaps the only thought that kept him moving. Maybe he could call the Hidden City police, though he was pretty sure this was beyond their jurisdiction. They'd always been fucking useless anyhow. 

It took him around two hours to get to Run of the Mill, his knees stinging and his feet aching. He had to be a good distance from the lair now, and those fools couldn't track him here. 

Besides, they probably didn't even know the Hidden City existed, so there. He still wasn't totally safe, but it was better than nothing. 

It was busy tonight, even if Leo wasn't sure what tonight really was. He'd lost his phone at some point and there was a distinct lack of clocks here. Clocks that he could actually read, anyway. 

Leo limped the rest of the way to a random booth and slumped into the seat, not even bothering to glance at the menu. He always got the same thing, though he doubted anyone here ever remembered. He was a regular, but a forgettable one, no doubt. 

The table was cool to the touch, making him shiver as he leaned onto it. He hadn't realized how cold it was outside. He really should have grabbed a jacket or something. 

It felt nice on his stinging palms, though, so he rested them flat on the table and let his eyes shut for just a moment. 

It only felt a like a second, but he must have spaced out, because someone was shaking his shoulder a second later.  

“ -nardo? Leonardo?”

He blinked blearily, the light piercing his eyes and making him belatedly remember his probable concussion. He shouldn't be dozing off. Probably. Thinking was hard right now. 

The person shaking him was a waiter, their dark eyes concerned and their nose twitching faintly. Right, that rabbit waiter. Leo saw him in here all the time. 

He glanced at his nametag and tried to play up his whole face-man thing. Even if flirting didn't feel like a good idea right now, this guy was very, very cute. And he was only a little delirious, so he totally meant it. 

“ Well hey there,” Leo murmured, flinching when he heard how raw his throat was. Right, hadn't eaten or drank anything all day. His eyes flicked down to the waiter's name tag, “ Yuichi, huh? Pretty name.”

The rabbit blinked, before rolling his eyes with a fond smile and pulling away from him. Leo held back a whine at the loss of warmth. He was still cold, somehow, even in the warm restaurant. But he literally just met this guy, no need to be desperate just yet. He wasn't totally on his game, but he was trying. 

“ Oh, I see what you're doing. Fine, I'll play along,” The waiter chuckled, flipping open his notepad and clearing his throat, “ Thank you, sir. What would you like to order?” 

Kinda weird, but weirder stuff was happening to him today, so he just smiled a little and gave his order. 

“ Medium pizza with extra pineapple, light ham and light banana peppers,” Leo rattled off, “ and a water, please”

The rabbit pretended to write it down. He wasn't even holding a pencil.

 Oooookay, that was weird. 

“ What kind of order is that?” Yuichi scoffed, “pretty sure only freaks order pineapple on their pizza,” 

Leo blinked in surprise, jaw agape as he stared at the waiter. He'd never been treated like this here. Usually it was just friendly smiles and decent service. 

“...what?” 

Yuichi didn't let up, chuckling, “what, can't handle a little pizza topping judgement, turtle?”

Leo stood up suddenly, head reeling and stomach swooping when he did. He steadied himself on the table and shot a glare at the waiter, “What the hell, man? Can't you tell I've had a shitty day? I was bein' friendly, the least you could do is take my order like a normal person!” 

The restaurant went quiet for a moment, the waiter's face morphing back into concern. 

“ Woah, woah- What's going on Bluebird?” Yuichi lowered his voice, and the ambient noise Of the other customers seemed to come back a moment later, but not nearly as loud as before.  

“I wanna see your manager. I don't give a shit if I sound like a Karen, you're being an asshole,” Leo whined, not daring to sit back down. Even if he felt like a strong wind might knock him over, “ All you had to do was take my fucking order, man” 

And maybe Leo was being a tad more aggressive. He didn't like being mean to waiters if he could help it, but cut him a break, he was fucking hungry and tired and in pain. And cold. He wanted to eat his pizza in peace, and this guy was being an ass for no reason. 

“Okay, okay. I'll get Hueso, just- don't move.” Yuichi slipped his notebook into his pocket and turned, hurrying for the kitchen. 

Good. He was pretty sure that was the owner. Even better. God he felt like such a fucking Karen right now, but he didn't really wanna deal with an asshole waiter judging his pizza toppings and his head hurt and- 

And he didn't have his wallet. Fuck. 

Leo stared at the table, unsure whether he just flee or just deal with the consequences of his actions. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. It was better than dealing with what was at the lair right now and he was so fucking hungry. 

Maybe the owner, this Hueso guy, would let him wash dishes in exchange or something. 

Minutes later, the skeleton-man-owner of the restaurant walked out from the kitchen and started for Leo's table. Leo sat back down with an exhausted sigh.

He'd been aiming for an apology, but now he was gonna pathetically beg this man for some food instead. Not his best look, but he did have money, it was just at home. With the strangers. That were no doubt pissed he'd locked them in a cage. 

“Pepino? What's going on? Yuichi said you're acting weird and-”

Leo bristled, whipping his head around to look at him. 

“ did you just call me a cucumber?” He hissed, head reeling with the motion, “what is with you all's customer service today? I'm already having a shit day and then I have to come here and be insulted? do you give all your customers terrible nicknames?”

The skeleton man blinked at him for a moment, seemingly confused at Leo's anger. Wouldn't anyone be angry if they were insulted? 

“I…Leonardo, what is wrong?” He stepped closer, hands held up placatingly, “ do we need to call your brothers or-”

“I DON’T HAVE ANY BROTHERS, WHY IS EVERYONE-” Leo slammed his fist onto the table, resting his head in the cool surface with a grimace. Everything hurt. He was so hungry. He wanted to go home. 

He let out a choked sigh, the need to cry building up into something dangerous. No, no he wasn't gonna embarrass himself any further. 

“ can…can I please just get my order…I’ll..I'll figure out someway to pay for it, I promise, I'm just so fucking hungry…” He murmured, muffled by his head on the table. 

There was a bit of hesitation, before Hyeso spoke again. 

“ of course, right away. Do not worry about paying, we will put it- we will make you a tab,” He seemed nervous. Good. Leo was gonna leave a bad yelp review. 

No, that was mean. It wasn't their fault he was having a shitty, shitty day. 

Footsteps faded back to the kitchen, but he still felt a presence. The waiter cleared his throat. 

“I’m so sorry sir, it won't happen again. I…i hope you feel better,” He too sounded hesitant, before walking away with much softer steps. 

Leo shut his eyes and kept his head down. If only for a minute. He was so tired. So hungry. Everything hurt so bad. 

He just wanted to go home and curl up in bed and forget this whole day had ever happened.

-----

I think this one is the longest part so far? Anyway surprise Leosagi in here. They aren't dating but they do be besties that flirt with each other.

I do wanna clarify that the reason he's also forgotten these two is that he sees then as 'family/family-adjacent' so yeah :) I do have more thoughts on this but yeah.

Part 1 | Part 11 | Part 13

[rivalsforlife]

It’s fascinating to me that Courtney, who in the end was on the side of “good” used Edgeworth in much the way the villains of the games have, as a weapon or tool to be deployed for their own ends. As did Shi-Long Lang in the final case of the first Investigations game when he accused Franziska, knowing Edgeworth would get her out of it but also hoping the process would open up opportunities for them

Like Edgeworth, as his name(s) imply, is a blade that can cut thru almost any legal opposition and when he was at his most villainous he didn’t question what he was slicing, he was willing to be pointed in a direction and he swung. He eventually learns to use his own morality and judgement for what he aims for and but he still sees himself as a weapon, tho now for the pursuit of Truth. And that can still be used against his will as we saw with Courtney and Shi-Long Lang and it culminates in Simone Keys again using Edgeworth to destroy his enemies for him, tho he doesn’t expect Edgeworth to be able to also take him down like most villains.

IDK I like that in the world of AA Edgeworth is like “dangerous” and a scary force to be reckoned with and how people try and use that even once he turns to the side of the Truth. And I wonder how much people that love Edgeworth as a person, and even Edgeworth himself, appreciates this fact or how they all perceive it. Kay and Gumshoe as firmly in the camp of “Edgeworth as a person first” but it’s not all he is in this world, he’s a resource to some and an obstacle to others rather then a more typical friend/enemy human distinction

(I think also this aspect of Edgeworth, aiming and able to cut down anything he deems a worthy target, can still somehow catch Nick off guard, even if he himself counts on it: see Miles at the end of DD and how he accuses Athena (however we feel about that game in anycase). And

hi I am very sorry that I left this sitting for. over six months. I don't have any excuse other than "I started to feel guilty about how long it was taking me to respond". but you sent this before aai ports were officially announced and now we have an official aai2 localization coming up and isn't that crazy? there was a time where I thought that would never happen.

but yeah it is super interesting to me how aai2 uses Edgeworth, and particularly how Simon uses Edgeworth. I think I wrote a few paragraphs of a fic for it once. In Simon's eyes his meticulous revenge plan (which was really just "get revenge on Patricia" because I have no idea what his plan would have been for Blaise and the body double in this situation) was about to fall apart when suddenly Edgeworth swoops in, makes a whole bunch of assumptions based on Simon's familial situation and general "ace attorney wacky defendant" demeanor, and then comes up with his own explanation of how Simon was involved in the case (Knightley obviously trusted you with that chisel Simon!!) and aggressively pushes it and interprets evidence to support it until he wins.

And it's fascinating because Ace Attorney court tends to operate on this same situation - here's the evidence we have, the prosecution interprets this in a way that makes the defendant guilty, the defense interprets this in a way that makes the defendant innocent. First example that comes to mind right now is Edgeworth in 1-2 saying "Yes, obviously the evidence shows that Redd White was in the office at some point, and here's my interpretation of it where he's not guilty of murder." And usually the defense's interpretation (or in general the protagonist's interpretation) is right. Edgeworth's explanation of the events of aai2-2 all check out, and lots of it is right, except for how exactly Simon gets roped into it.

And Simon sees this guy who is very clever, but also very stubborn, and will push his opinion and interpretation of events even when evidence is against it until they find evidence that supports his argument and everyone agrees that he's right, and rightfully recognizes that if he can just convince Edgeworth to be on his side (oh woe poor little me, I lost my dad when I was a kid, and now everyone's accusing me of murder :( or oh no dear little Kay is caught up in this murder, obviously she must be innocent, so he will not stop until he takes down the person actually responsible) he can get Edgeworth to do whatever he wants. Plus, Edgeworth is part of the prosecution and has that protection in place that Simon does not have.

And his downfall is that Edgeworth, ultimately, does not believe in his client! Which is such an interesting thing to do in the game where Edgeworth is trying to figure out if he wants to be a defense attorney, and in AA-universe being a defense attorney means you have to believe in your client. We can see it in aai2-2 where Ray and Kay are always reminding him that he's doing this to save Simon, not to find the truth. Ultimately Edgeworth's loyalty lies with the truth, and as soon as his logic led him to Simon being the one who was behind these events and hurt Kay, he didn't react like Phoenix would have if someone he believed in was accused -- "no, I believe in him no matter what, he's innocent and I will rethink all of my logic over and over until I find something that proves it" -- he instantly turned on Simon, made Simon the enemy, and at that moment he was doomed.

(Sidenote that I really would love to see what would happen if Phoenix had a guilty client that he chose, that he genuinely believed in, and had to reckon with that faith being misplaced. It's one of the reasons I dislike SOJ's civil trial so much.)

Man I love aai2. I am so excited to play it again with a new translation and get new insights into everything. Different translations, like adaptations of media, will interpret some things slightly differently and can cast a whole new light on things, so I'm so looking forward to revisiting aai2 and seeing how that official translation might challenge some of the thoughts I had of it previously. I think Simon will be especially fun.

Anyways. Sorry again for taking so long to answer this and that it mostly turned into aai2 gushing. I think your ask got cut off at the end there but I certainly don't expect you to remember what you were thinking six months ago (if you're even still here to read this!)

[husbandohunter]

Dear Father [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: Wherever you are wherever you may be, even if you are beyond my reach, I only wish to see you again. -from a letter lost in the wind.

(A story where you and Diluc somehow managed to meet Crepus)

Genre: all fluff

"I know how late I am to father's day but here's my father's day take on Genshin Impact! Just let Diluc be happy for once T_T Mihoyo pls."

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

Discovering Master Crepus' old belongings was like wandering in a domain surrounded by ancient artifacts. Each piece holding the memory of someone you've never met.

The paintings. Master Crepus loved to paint. Typically birds were the main muse of this portraits since they deeply embodied Mondstadt's values for freedom which shows you how much he cherished this city just like his son did. In almost every hallway you walked through there was a collection of his paintings, some belonged to another artist but the majority was an original work. Diluc didn't have the heart to sell them.

Elzer. He was one of the oldest workers who served under the Ragnvindr name, ever since Master Crepus had appointed him during his earlier days. You were told that he treated everyone, both staff and noble, with equal respect. Almost all the denizens of Mondstadt knew this man for he was not only noble in riches but also in the soul.

"I'm sure he would have loved to meet you in person. Now that I think about it, you and Master Crepus are quite similar. Haha, it seems that Master Diluc was selective in terms of who he wanted for his future bride."

Elzer adds with a light chuckle but the statement only made you more curious. A man who affected the lives of so many others, he must have been a wonderful person.

Diluc. The bloodline Master Crepus left behind after his death, a piece of himself and the heir to the whole wine industry, his son Diluc. Although you could see the resemblance in appearance, both of them were men of prinicples and values, putting Mondstadt first before anything else and you suddenly realized if that was the reason why Diluc was so protective of this city. As if, it were everything he had? You could tell he loved Master Crepus very much, not because he said so, rather the painful expression buried deep within his crimson glare whenever someone brought up the topic. Diluc was skilled in hiding himself, it's something he practiced over the years of working alone, though he lowered his guard as long as you were the only one present.

Even so, he had many conflicts still wringing him internally and you didn't want to push him until the day he felt ready to personally tell you himself.

But it would be nice if he opened up, just a little bit.

There were times when you would worry since Diluc had the tendency to hide his feelings for the sake of not troubling you. He wanted to keep life simple and bright, bringing the best to the table while making sure that you lived safely out of harm's way. You couldn't seem to get him to understand that as lovers, you would be happy to help him, in anything. Unconditionally. It was natural for you to feel the need to force yourself in every once in a while and there was nothing more you wanted to know than the story of the man who raised him.

You would even jest on the idea of what it fel like to meet Master Crepus in person. Were you able to reach his standards by any chance? Would he have liked you just as everyone claimed? Of course, they were only silly indulgent thoughts so you quickly dismissed them in the end. Bringing back the past was impossible no matter how badly you wanted it. You closed your heart on that possibility.

On a lovely evening, while you and Diluc were taking your time off Angel's Share to make a stroll around Mondstadt's quiet streets, a strange merchant called over to you. She displayed various antiques ranging from different sizes to designs, none of them seemed to haven been carved in the same place but distinct cultures throughout Teyvat. The only thing they had in common was that they were all equally beautiful to the eye.

However a particular item of what looks like to be a heart locket snatches your attention and you instantly became mesmerized, allured by it's mysterious charm.

"Ah, the locked heart caught your fancy, my lady? It's said once you open it, you will be set free."

"It's magnificent..." you muttered, staring unabashed at the shining surface.

Diluc who was observing from behind folded his arms and tilts his head, "How much is that?"

Although you intended to simply inspect the choices, your lover immediately offers to pay. They all already gave the impression of a hefty price and you didn't want him to spend his fortune on things that deemed unecessary. Still, this wasn't the first time it happened. Diluc would always insist whenever you protested against him from buying anything, it was just a way of expressing his affections towards you. Mora was never a problem and you were priceless. That's how he sees things. You had to remind yourself to be careful when stumbling upon a bustling area full of salesmen next time.

"Five hundred thousand mora."

He purchased it without hesitation.

On your way home, Diluc noticed that something was amiss. You couldn't tear your gaze from the locket as if it had hypnotized you by the golden smooth surface. He had to ensure you didn't run into anyone by accident, tugging your arm closer so that it gave him an opportunity to lead you where you yourself could not. Surely it must have been the appearance but instead of being drawn by, you were drawn in. Completely.

I wonder...what will happen if I open it?

"(Y/n)?" Diluc narrows his eyebrows together. Did you like it that much? No, he knew you weren't the type to be so etranced by jewelry, this was certainly different. Even the merchant seemed a little suspicious when she approached you and Diluc couldn't ignore the heavy sense of aminosity that was emitted around her aura. He couldn't think within her presence but now that his mind was much clearer, he was able to use his skillful judgements.

"Wait...! Don't open it yet-"

However, he was too late.

The wind picks up at an alarming speed and you both brought up your arms to block the debris that had flown in the way. They swirled in non-stop motion until your worlds were engulfed with not even the sky in sight. Amidst the turmoil Diluc latchest onto you and holds your body close his chest as he was determined to protect against any force that dared to hurt you. Something heavy knocks his head and he winces, tighting his hold even further. Your voice could hardly be heard with all the noise that rung around and eventually you discovered the the world wasn't disappearing. You both were.

The last thought you had was the image of Master Crepus and you didn't know why.

---

"Diluc? Diluc?"

He faintly heard his name through a series of echoes. Diluc fights to regaind concousness, feeling your grip upon his shoulder while trying to urge him awake.

"Diluc are you alright?"

Your worried face was the first thing he sees other than the fog that looms above. Diluc blinks a few times in an attempt to ease his migraine, using one arm to force his body into a seating position as he allowed himself to be supported by you at the same time.

"Does your head hurt?" You ask, palming gently against his forehead to feel the heat. Even if her was usually very warm, there was no unusual rise in tempurature, something must have hit him instead, "Here, maybe this will help."

Bringing out your hand you concentrated on generating the water through your fingertips. Having a hydro vision meant you were capable of healing magic which Diluc appreciated since he often came home late at night with injuries hidden behind his sleeves. But nothing came out and he became even more suspicious of the situation.

"Eh? What's going on?" You blurted out, patting down your clothes and your pockets, "My Vision, it's gone too!"

"Mine as well," Diluc flexes his fingers to test his own element, "It seems that our powers were sealed once we entered this domain."

"A domain that prevents you from using a Vision? That doesn't sound very comforting," you scratched your head, suddenly remembering the cause of your current problem, "The locket...it's all starting to make sense now. Ugh, I should have listened to you earlier, I'm sorry Diluc."

"No (Y/n), you don't have to apologize," he interjects and you returned a curious glance, "I should have stopped you the minute I discovered there was something strange. I was too careless."

"You felt that too? I thought I was the only one," your tone and face mimics one of surprise. The fog continues to dance around, enclosing the two of you to the small area. You lifted your head and looked above in deep contemplation, "When I saw the locket I couldn't tear my eyes off of it, like something was pulling me in. Like...there was a spell casted on it."

"What do you mean?" he asked in an inquisitive manner.

You nod, "I can't put my finger on it bit Ifel that the locket wanted me to..." balling your fist upon your lap, you stared intensely at the floor as if drilling holes into them while digging into the depths of your mind for any specific clues. Initially you thought the locket was so captivating that you were simply charmed by it's craftmanship. But tere was more than that, you began deciphering, there was also a need for fulfillment. A yearning desire, "to know. The locket was calling me to know."

'Once you open it, you will be set free.'

"To know..." you trailed off. How strange. No matter how much you tried to rationalize, you were always brought back to the same square as if the locket knew exactly what you wanted. What you were lacking. Because the one thing you wanted to know most about was the person you've never met, "Someone very important to you."

The fog dispersed.

Diluc instinctively puts an arm in front of you defensively as he scanned his quick and thorough eyes around the area. It didn't take long for him to know exactly where everything was. In fact, the abrupt change isn't what puts him on high alert, but it was how familiar everything looked to the point he evaluates if there was any reason to be skeptical or if he should be breathtaken.

"What a beautiful house," However you didn't recognize it. Diluc knew because he had yet to meet you during the time he lived in this estate, "I wonder who does it belong to?"

"Father's old mansion...how?" Diluc breatlessly mutters, as if seeing the supremecy of Celestia for the first time. When years passed after his father died, he chose to sell off the majority of his belongings, the mansion being on for example. Currently it was in the possession of a well-known business associate that used to be a friend of Crepus. The mansion would likely have looked much different due to the renovations it gone through but Diluc remembers the picture as if this were yesterday. Everything was in tact. The vine yard, the gazebo where they drank tea, the hill that he and Kaeya used to race on when they were kids-

Revelation burns in his pupils as his eyes expanded.

"Welcome home, my son."

Both you and Diluc fall wordless at the sight that appeared like a miracle's blessing. Crepus stands at a distance, the graceful smile complimenting his warm features. He looked exactly how the court artists portrayed him in the Ragnvindr's family picture. Sharp face with gentle eyes and an aura that was as pleasant as what Elzer described.

"So this is why the locket was calling to us," you whispered, "I guess the mora really was worth it after all."

"...Fa...ther...."

You snuck a glance at Diluc. From behind the resemblance was as clear as dawn, like you were staring at a carbon copy of Master Crepus himself. Almost. He was a less hardened version of Diluc during uncommon situations. It made you think just how much you didn't know before his father passed away. What kind of person was this man during his days as a knight? You never had the chance to know.

"Father is that really you?" Diluc couldn't help his voice from trembling, paralyzed in place when he could hardly make sense of what stands in front of him. The person he longed to hear from, the person who left the world too quick, Diluc was afraid to get his hopes up in case his father suddenly disappeared and everything was just an illusion conjured by his mind. He was already used to being betrayed and dealt with disappointment too often. Which is why he learned to trust only himself. But, right now, can he really trust himself?

Feeling your hand gently on his shoulders, Diluc was brought back to reality. You smiled with warm reassurance that bled into your voice, "It's okay Diluc. Go, I'm here for you."

There was the faintest light shining in his eyes as emotions swell in his chest. Ever since you came Diluc never had to feel alone anymore, truly, you were the light that was brought back into his eyes, to his life when he gave up the thought of seeing it again. If he couldn't trust himself then at the very least, he could trust you.

"Thank you," he embraces you wholly like you were everything, and you were, before letting go and taking off to the otherside.

The air hits him in a rush and knocks the ones out of his lungs, "Father!" Diluc yells with tearful eyes. For the first time in a long while he was finally letting his feelings run free, "Father!" A name that felt foreign upon words that is pushes him forward, wanting to claim the truth that was smiling from afar.

"Father!"

Crepus lifted his arms and openly catches Diluc when he crashed into him. Here. He was here. He certainly was.

"Haha its been a while hasn't it my son?" He begins, encasing Diluc in a hug like he did the day he turned eighteen. Crepus was a tall man and his genes seemed to have went through. Back when they were younger, Diluc managed to only reach the blade of his shoulders, just barely. Now they were practically the same height, "Look how much you've grown over the years. There were so many things I planned to say but I don't know where to start."

Seven years. That was how long Crepus spent alone with his thoughts. He saw what happened through that time span, the truth about the Knights and Kaeya's origins. To say that none of that bothered him would be a lie. Especially when his son was the most impacted throughout all the events.

"Father I...I-" Diluc tries to speak but the words dissolved the moment it reached his tongue. He wasn't the type to be very good at expressing emotions. None of it could simply be communicated by sentences. For him, actions spoke louder yet somehow, they still wouldn't be enough. Nothing can comprehend the weight of seven years.

Crepus seemed to have understood and fills in the gap instead, "I have also missed you and Kaeya. More than I can even say. It must have been so hard for you both to endure it all by yourselves. Life hits us when we least expect it but despite that, you still chose to persevere."

Diluc clenches his hold, face buried in his shoulders and mouth quivering as he barely answers, "Yeah."

"You're both my pride and joy no matter what happens, as a father I cannot be more proud," before knowing, everything that was said came out naturally from his spirit. Crepus may have his own set of things to share but he knew what Diluc needed the most, "So please don't stop relying on one another, don't always think that you have to do everything alone. Stength is a virtue. However, its okay to let go and allow new people to come into your life. I don't need to be avenged, as long as you and Kaeya are happy, its all I ask for."

As if the world had been lifted from his shoulders, Diluc allows himself to break just this once. On the outside, he was known to be an unstoppable force, the Mondstadt tycoon, the uncrowned king and a hero who serves at night. But here you saw only a boy who dearly missed his father as he hugs him tightly. Although you couldn't hear their conversation clearly, just watching them from where you stood was enough to make your eyes glisten from pure happiness.

"You finally chose to open your heart, right Diluc?" You quietly note to yourself, "You don't have to carry everything by yourself anymore, you're free."

'Once you open it, you will be set free.'

He was able to dwell in this one in a lifetime experience, all because you unlocked the heart and dispersed the fog inside.

They spent a good amount of minutes bringing the distance back together after being seperated for so many years. You made sure to make minimal movements in the consideration of their time. It was only temporary until Crepus noticed you standing in the distance and he gave you a quick glance. Your whole body tenses in response, suddenly feeling guilty as if you were a third wheel who didn't belong in the moment between two family members.

He's staring at me. Diluc's father is staring at me! Your thoughts panicked along with your thrumming heart. What should I do?!!

"I see you've brought someone along with you," He comments, the playfulness rising in his tone, "She seems to have been waiting for quite a while already. If you don't mind, may you do the honours of introducing her to me?"

Diluc turns to see you stiffened in place with your hands tightly clasped below your stomach and heat pooling from your ear to your cheeks as you dipped your head down. His father was a kind man and he couldn't understand there the discomfort came from, yet found it endearing nonetheless. Diluc walks over to you and extends his hand, silently urging you to come with him. You complied, albeit hesitantly at first.

"It'll be okay my love," he whispered softly, causing you to be taken aback by the nickname he called you by. Diluc often reserves them for special instances and this was one of them, "Whatever the staff told you about my father, they're the truth. Trust in their judgement. Trust in me."

"Diluc..." you say, voice fading. You knew him to be someone who always kept his word and someone who would never lie to you. Taking in a short breath, you nodded, "Alright, I will," and followed his lead.

There was once a time where you indulged in the idea of facing Master Crepus in person. But never did you prepare yourself for the amount of pressure it came with. Now that you were together with his son, there was a high chance that he would also become part of his family too, sooner or later. You weren't just meeting Master Crepus. You were also meeting your future father-in-law.

"Father, this is (Y/n)," Diluc starts the welcoming exchanges. You felt his hand squeeze yours gently. He turns to you so that you caught glimpse of his face, seeing the reverance in his gaze that was hinted among his handsome features, "She's the woman I fell in love with and I would do anything to make her happy. I cherish her more than anything else."

"D-Diluc!" you flushed, your embarassment as red as his own hair. But he wasn't bothered by it in the slightest.

"I only speak the truth."

Master Crepus lets out a content chuckle, drawing both of your attentions back to him, "He can be surprising poetic sometimes but I'm sure that he got it from me. Even my wife reacted the same way," he reminisced shortly before sighing, "In truth I already knew that you were together. Staying in the after life gave me the chances to watch things from an omniscient standpoint, I was sincerely worried how Diluc would handle things when I suddenly left, I hope you don't mind. If you do, I apologize for making you uncomfortable."

"N-Not at all!"

"Haha, you're very kind. Thank you. I'm glad that my son was able to find a woman like you to be his fated partner. As a parent, it brings me great reassurance," Crepus remarked, "I know he can be stubborn and a little too headstrong when it comes to making decisions. It really must be a handful for you to deal with at times but I promise you that he means well. So please continue to watch over him in my stead, take care of my son while I'm gone."

"You can count on me," you beamed, "I'll give it my all."

"You have my gratitude (Y/n)," Crepus replies and turned to Diluc, "And listen to her every once in a while. I may have been the previous owner of our wine industry but even I always make sure to get me sufficient amount of rest. Son you know its bad to get two to three hours of sleep every day."

You blinked, "Two to three hours?"

Diluc clears his throat, "I understand Father. You don't have to say it."

Oh I think he does.

With a satisfied grin, Crepus took both of your hands together in his and gave you his blessings. The man once considered to be an artifact through the vast mansion was going to be part of the memories in your life. All of your expressions held as much happiness as the future can become now that he gave you the closure you both needed.

[joyliiejolly]

As a lover - SEVENTEEN's DK

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purpose only, so please take it as a grain of salt and live laugh love all the way besties!!

This reading is done by my friend @bluerabb (she usually doesn’t post any reading on her blog and she wants me to post them here so please considerate follow my blog if you want to read more from her ^^). I took note during her reading, proofread and added some of my own thoughts along.

There is a nsfw part in this reading (under “keep reading”), so if you’re a minor reading this, please stop where I put my warning.

Without futher ado, enjoy the reading!

Happy birthday to our Sunshine ☀️ 🌻

I’m forever grateful of you, who saved me from my brain many years ago and till this day 💙

The cards:

Tyldwick Tarot: Queen of Swords, Ace of Wands (complemented by Judgement and Page of Cups), Seven of Cups.

Cosmos Tarot and Oracle: Ace of Pentacles (rx), Five of Pentacles, The 13th card in the Oracle.

Seokmin's love is the purest thing in this world. It's the kind of love that one can't help but cherish, the kind of love that makes everyone believes in the good of loving again.

To Seokmin, every love is his first love. He is always excited for any new love that enters his life, as he sees each of them as a distinct experience to go through. The way he loves is innocent and sincere. He's hopeless romantic and the ideal of true love is there. He believes that there's someone out there who is destined for him and he's destined to be theirs. He will want to do a lot of romantic stuffs with his love one, it can get a little bit cheesy but it's gonna be so freaking adorable ><.

Funny thing is, when he starts to like someone, he would try so hard to act like he isn't interested in them at first :D The reason is simple, he is just so shy and awkward. It will take a lot of time for him to make any move on his feelings. He doesn't want to play around with romance. He wants to make sure whether or not this warm feeling is just a one timing or something more long lasting.

This boy hasn't been in love that much, he lacks of experience, and he's well aware of this. He would wonder a lot about the relationship even before entering it ("Will this last long?", "Can I work this out?", "Will we be good together?",…). And with the tendency to idealize love, if a long-term relationship of him somehow crashes, he will melt down really bad and won't ever be able to fully recover from it.

Though he's a hopeless romantic type of guy, but in love, Seokmin isn't spontaneous, but rather cautious. He might make extremely detailed plans/notes/check-lists in regard to his lover, like what do they like/dislike, their little hobbies and habits, what gifts should he buy in which occasion,… All because he again, lack of experiences and he wants to make it right. An overthinker in love, basically. He is a try-hard one, and because of this, one's love might overshadow the other's, which can lead to a lack of balance in the relationship.

He is also a perfectionist in love, he doesn't want to mess anything up. He will ask his friends, even ask online whenever he wants something from his love one, like a hug, a kiss,…since well, he doesn't know how to. For gifts, he would be like "I don't really know what you like the most, so I bought them all" :D He would even go on wikiHow "How to have a perfect date" and follow the steps exactly how they were written :D "Get them 10 roses", yeah, he will get them 10 roses, no more no less. He follows the steps simply because he believe that if he nails them perfectly, nothing can go wrong.

You know how much of a soft boy he is :D He will get all emotional and cry during important moments, like when they accept his confession/they confess to him, the first time they hug, the first time they holding hands….Yeah, the softest boy everrrr. He will definitely gonna put a picture of his love one on his desk :D And he wants to provide them a home as they like, literally. A little greenery, like a mini garden .

He expresses his love through music. He will gift them the most beautiful sound in this world . He would sing his love one to sleep, recording himself singing for his lover. He will want to dance with his partner, just the two of them swaying the night away, or sing on top of their lungs together. He will send them memes lol or buy them funny stuffed animals. He will definitely gonna make a fool out of himself around his lover just to see them smile (Dad jokes alerted :D).

He will give his lover flowers. It could be some beautiful wild flowers he picked up on the street or a bouquet of mixed white flowers. Red flowers like roses are a must for important day. His favorite kind of date is picnic by a lake, sight-seeing the mountains (basically anything related to nature or in the nature).

(Minor please stop right here!)

Music is an important part of the love-making process and maybe used to built the mood.

Seokmin is a soft dom, a pleaser, who cares a lot about his lover's satisfaction in bed. Since he is very careful, he would be a little bit experimental in bed (nothing too extreme tho), in order to figure out what his partner's preferences and gain some experience, just to please them. He may want to try some positions that require flexibility.

He will give a lot of attention to their feelings and expressions, taking a mental note of their likes/dislikes. All the small, soft spots, places that make his lover goes weak, yeah, he will remember it all.

[werevulvi]

You know how often I ask myself, why can't I just be normal? It's quite a lot. I wanna talk about something I've never told anyone before, aside from a few strangers online. I've suppressed this my whole life, since childhood. I've acted with anger towards others with the same thing as me, told them how it's offensive and awful. Refused to allow myself to even think about my own urges and desires. It worked for a long time, until I wrote my book this summer, a fiction story about a couple who end up disabled from their dangerous work as assassins. My intentions were just... to try to give good representation and explore something I knew very little about.

So I did a lot of research into my characters' disabilities, and even briefly pretended to have those specific disabilities at home alone, just to get an idea of what it's like to manage daily life with them. It was just a writer's thing, just being a dedicated writer, I told myself, as I researched those disabilities far more in-depth than I did about assassins...

At one point, I would cover my eye with a makeshift eye patch, as one of my main character's loses an eye, and I... it brought forth what I had suppressed my whole life, and I can't suppress it anymore as a result of that. The bottled feelings have escaped and I can't put them back in again.

I think I have Body Integrity Identity Disorder (BIID.) There, I said it.

It's a very rare mental illness that makes you want to become disabled, usually in some very specific way. Most are males, and most desire amputation, but it can pertain to wanting blindness, deafness, or I guess, any conceivable disability. There's only been a few thousand reported cases, but it's also said to be a very secret disorder, so numbers are probably not accurate. It's very poorly researched, poorly understood, and still not recognized as an actual disorder. So you can't be diagnosed with it currently, and there are no set criteria for it. However, it will be in the upcoming ICD-11 (the International Classification of Diseases.) It will then also be re-named to Body Integrity Dysphoria (BID) as it's being recognized as a form of dysphoria, and as a neurological condition.

And now for the obligatory life story:

I don't remember when it started, but as a child, I'd say roughly age 5 or 7, I was obsessed with fictional characters that had a distinct scar over one eye, and either blind in that eye or entirely missing it. I would on occasion play around with a hand covering one eye, and wished I could have that for real. For a long time, I didn't know why I was so obsessed with that. If I was just admiring that kinda physical feature, or wanted it myself, or both. Throughout my teens and adulthood thus far, I've made a lot of drawings of people with only one eye, and scarred faces. I wrote another book back in 2013 with one of the main characters being a woman with a large scar across half her face. I've always been a little too fascinated with facial deformities, having only one eye, and facial assymmetry. And I've tried to express it with assymmetrical makeup looks (not made to look like I'm injured) throughout my teens and 20's.

So it's been with me for a very long time, even though I've tried super hard to suppress it, and tried to tell myself that I should just be happy to have a mostly abled body. But that wish/urge/whatever it is, has never gone away.

When I first heard of BIID, back in 2016 or so, I was angry, and thought of people with it as despicable. I was in deep denial of how much I could relate to them. Didn't want to think of that. But since learning more about the condition, and listening to others who have it, and learning it is actually a real condition... I guess that has helped me eventually come to this point that, well fuck... it me.

Up until recently, I thought it was just a self-harm desire, as I used to be a cutter, but now I understand that the self-harm was not the intention behind what I want with that, but merely the means to achieve it. Kinda like how I wanted to cut my own tits off before I had my double mastectomy. It wasn't about specifically wanting to injure my chest, but to not have tits anymore, and I much preferred the much safer way of doing it, through proper surgery. However, wanting half my face re-arranged is a little bit harder to achieve through elective surgery, even if surgeons were allowed to treat BIID through surgery. So I do not think my desire to get rid of my left eye and surrounding tissues is about wanting to harm myself. It's about wanting to have and live with the result of such an injury. Although I get that might be very unimaginable.

So then, have I ever made any attempts?

Yeah... I have. Once, I think it was when I was 22, I took a blade to my face, but chickened out, and ended up only making a very superficial cut on my cheek, which I was then extremely ashamed of. I didn't want for people to find out I had made it myself. Since then, I've stopped self-harming and have no desire to make a second attempt. I'm scared I'd fuck it up and cause damage I don't want, or... not enough damage. And I'm worried I'd be beyond myself with shame if I would take out my own eye and then other people would show sympathy for my injury, knowing I'd have caused it myself. I just kinda wish it would happen accidentally somehow.

So, to clarify, my BIID targets my left eye and left side of my face. Why left? Honestly because I'm deaf since birth on my left ear, so it would be extremely inconvenient to be deaf on one side and blind on the other. Much more manageable to have one side be blind-deaf and the other fully seeing and hearing. But at first it didn't matter to me so much which side of my face would be affected. I have no desire to become an amputee or fully blind. I also don't have a fetish for disabled people.

Would I date a disabled person?

Yes, but that's because some attractive people just so happen to be disabled, and I wouldn't think I'm particularly judgemental, not that I find their disabilities in and of themselves attractive.

I try to quell this desire, to lose an eye and half my face, by on occasion wearing an eye patch in secrecy. I know it can worsen my vision, but why on Earth would I mind that? It's kinda what I want. But my mom almost caught me wearing it today as she came by for a quick visit, and I have worn it at the grocery store, and out and about in my village. It feels so damn right, yet so fucking wrong...

Let's tackle this question as well: Do I feel like an ass towards disabled people?

Yes and no. Thing is, I'm already disabled myself. I'm not an abled person to begin with. I live on permanent sickness compensation, classified unable to work, for life, with little to no chance at improvement, due to my autism and adhd. I have the energy levels of an old cellphone that drops to 2% battery ten minutes after being fully charged every time. And I hate it. I hate that there's so much in life that I'll probably never be able to do. So disability, is already part of my life, and always has been. So why then would I want to become more disabled, instead of less? Well, yeah that is what I want...

I've faced a shit ton of ableism since childhood, and I actually think that's why I got BIID. Because my actual disability is invisible and not taken seriously in society. And I think that's what I deep down want: to just have my disability be visible and taken seriously. Physical disabilities are taken more seriously. I've even heard that straight from the mouths of people who have both mental and physical disabilities. How often have I not been called lazy for something I've been literally unable to do, just because I "look" capable? How often do I get to hear I "don't seem autistic?" How often do I get told that autism is not even a disability, but merely a personality trait and being socially awkward? How often do I get told I would be able to work if I just tried harder? All. The. Fucking. Time.

I think that's why, ever since I was a child, I've wanted to have a physical disability, which is fully visible, and cannot be ignored. And what's more visible than the face? We interact with it the most. Because I don't really want to be less capable or lose a lot of movement, I just want for my already disabled existence to be visibly disabled.

So that's a big reason for why I think I have BIID. Which is to say, I don't feel like I'm being an ass towards disabled people, because I'm already disabled to begin with, merely wishing I was more disabled and in a more visible way. Had I been abled to begin with, I think that would have been different, but even abled people with BIID don't choose to have this condition. I read a quote from a person with BIID, who got the amputation he wanted, and he said basically that he didn't know what's worse, having BIID or being disabled. I can relate to that. And I think that is the irony here, that simply having BIID is like being disabled in and of itself already.

That said, however, I do understand why disabled people would be greatly offended, angry, or otherwise insulted, by people with BIID. Honestly I cannot understand why they would not be. I'm greatly offended by people who say they wish they were autistic! And I'm offended at myself for wishing I had a facial deformity and only one eye. Why do I want this!? I keep trying to shake sense into myself. It's what's causing my shame and wishing I could just be normal. No disabilities, and no wish for disabilities I don't have. That'd be great.

There is one more aspect I also feel the need to tackle: Transabled.

BIID has recently been rather often labeled as "transabled" in the same vein as "transracial" (wanting to be another race) and transgender. As a transsexual, this comparison is of course something that I have not missed. I'm painfully aware. This is how I see it, alright: Although I do feel like my body integrity dysphoria is incredibly similar to my sex dysphoria, I feel like it would be extremely rude and tone deaf to identify as for example vision impaired, deaf or an amputee, without actually having those disabilities. And I do not know if anyone actually does this. As far as I've seen, some people with BIID may pretend to have the disability they want (like with me walking around with an eye patch despite having no medical need for it) but they don't lie about it, or they try hard to avoid ending up in a situation where they'd feel pressured to lie. So I dunno how much validity there even is in anyone with BIID genuinely identifying as transabled. But regardless of that, I think it's absolutely abhorrent to identify as disabled in ways you are not. And I'd never tell anyone that I'm missing an eye when I do not.

So, I really do not like the term "transabled" and much prefer the BIID and BID terms. I do not like BIID being conflated with being transgender, although I want to very carefully say that the two conditions are so incredibly similar, that... I think that's another big reason I ended up with both. That I've always felt a strong disconnect from my body, which has merely expressed itself in a wide array of ways, ranging from sex dysphoria to body integrity dysphoria, dissociation and even having previously identified as otherkin. I don't think that's a coincidence at all. But then what caused all of that? I don't think there is a simple answer, but a multitude of reasons, and it may even connect with my autism as well as my trauma.

So, I'd say most likely it's caused by a cocktail of neurological and social issues. I was just clearly meant to be a broken person, making the most of my life with the sucky cards I was dealt, and on good days... I guess I'm kinda okay with that. At least it's not boring. Let's end on that not super tragic note. Feel free to ask me anything, if you’ve got any questions.

[juniorgman187]

Home Alone (Reid Fic)

Summary: For the first time since living with Spencer, Reader is home alone and left to brave the figurative and literal storm on her own.  Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, One-shot Content Warning: Storm, fear and paranoia, use of a deadly weapon Word Count: 2.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

It was a dark and stormy night. 

Too cliche? Let me start over. 

It was the time of the year when the wind was so strong, even the sturdiest tree would blow over. Meanwhile, the rain relentlessly pelted the windowpane, cascading down the glass at a record speed. In the distance, you could hear thunder’s deafening clap and see lightning’s blinding flash preceding it. The only thing that could make this storm worse?

Being home alone in it. 

Spencer, my roommate, was never gone for more than two days at a time. He always arrived at the exact hour when he texted he would be, and he never ever left me home alone before his arrival. Without fail, he would call over a friend to stay with me or if he knew he’d only be gone a few hours, he’d drop me off in a public space, where he knew people would see me. To put it simply, if I was in the apartment, I wasn’t alone, and I had to think it was because of something he would never tell me about. 

Without explicit reasoning for his unwillingness to leave me by my lonesome, I could only conjure up theories and inferences that were never confirmed. My best guess was an accumulated paranoia caused by all of those cases he worked on. I’m betting there’s been more than one instance where a woman was home alone and ended up dead one way or another, and after all that he’d seen, he couldn’t let the same thing happen to me. If for no other reason than he just didn’t want to slave over another case like this and have me be the victim in it. He’d seen it too many times to not learn his lesson. And trust me - Spencer Reid is not a person who needed to be taught something twice. 

But before I lived with him, I was never scared of being home alone. In fact, I might’ve actually preferred to be alone as opposed to being in the company of someone else, but I think my compliance with his precautionary procedures made me weaker. After years of living with Spencer’s routine, I relied on it for my safety. I’d gotten so used to the luxury of having somebody around when he was away that this loneliness was so unfamiliar that it left me uneasy. By now, I’ve associated the presence of another person with the feeling of being safe, and conversely, I now associate being alone with being in danger. 

So if you asked me to sum up how I was currently feeling alone in this storm in one word, I’d choose ‘uncomfortable’, but if you asked me to sum it up in two, my answer would be ‘in danger.’

It wasn’t until the situation presented itself that I realized I’d never been forced to deal with it, so I never knew what to do when it happened. Never before had I needed to call Spencer while he was at work because prior arrangements had always been made in advance, but I hadn’t heard from him since noon when he told me that he was boarding the jet and he’d be home before I came home from work. Was it inappropriate to call him while he was working? I wouldn’t know - I never had to do this before. 

But then again, he called me when he said he was about to board the jet, so if I called him, maybe he was still on the jet and it wouldn’t be bothering him. Unless, they got another case as soon as they landed and it required his immediate attention and the thought of calling to let me know he wouldn’t be home yet completely slipped his mind. I could see that being a possibility too because even if I was totally oblivious about when to call him, I wasn’t blind to the mayhem his job involved. 

With no good reason to pester him with a phone call, I decided against it. After all, I was a big girl. I could be home alone. 

In fact, this was the perfect opportunity to do all the things I couldn’t do while someone was around. Plus, distracting myself was the only way I could ensure that I wouldn’t slip into the same downward spiral of paranoia that led Spencer to enforce this very system.

After my steamy shower, I wandered aimlessly around the apartment in just my towel and nothing else. This was something I hadn’t done since the days when I lived alone. Mainly because I didn’t want to leave so little to the imagination. Honestly, as much as I love Spencer platonically - I’m not blind. He’s obviously a very gorgeous, very single man for God’s sake, so the thought of prancing around in nothing but a rectangle of terry cloth had certainly crossed my mind once or twice, but if anything, wearing more clothing would attract his attention more than wearing less would. That’s just the way he is.

Second on my list of luxuries that came with alone-time was blasting music. This is something I hadn’t done in forever. Out of courtesy, whenever I played music, it would only be through my headphones, so Spencer wouldn’t be bothered by it. Even then, I think sometimes he could hear it faintly in the background while he read or studied his paperwork, but if he noticed, he never said anything. So to relish in my newfound freedom of aloneness, I turned my phone’s volume all the way up and danced ridiculously to it, too. Of course, the music wasn’t loud enough to disturb our neighbors - I wasn’t that insensitive - but it reached new volumes tonight. Louder than it ever had been in this apartment before. 

Somewhere in the middle of my impromptu concert, I heard something like knocking. It was a distinct enough sound to make me pause my music, but not so distinct that I could recognize where it came from. I wondered if it was a noise coming from my song, like when you’re playing music and you think someone called your name, but when you pause your music you realize no one actually did. But this … this was different. It was too real of a sound for me to be imagining it. I could hear it from exactly where I would normally hear knocking, but now that I was alone, and quite frankly - naked - hearing knocking made my stomach churn. 

“Hello?” I dumbly called out from my bedroom doorway into the living room.

This was a horror movie-esque choice, I’m aware, and it was usually made by the docile female only seconds before a murderer appeared and chased her up a flight of stairs that she’d somehow forgotten to properly ascend. But my thinking was if there really was someone knocking outside, they’d answer me, and I’d be able to detect the danger if necessary, but in true horror movie fashion, no one responded. Leaving me to hunt further to access the situation. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but my mind did exactly that. 

You’re about to be murdered. My conscience concluded. Or kidnapped. Or assaulted. Or violated. Or -

Knock! Knock!

My heart accelerated at a pace my lungs couldn’t support, not without heavy breathing. It was here where all my logic and rationality flew out the window because for some reason, I started tip-toeing to the door as if not making any sounds on the floorboards would somehow ensure my safety.

I didn’t know what I was trying to prove by finally grasping the doorknob with the intentions of turning it open, but it certainly didn’t prove I was a “big girl” or that I was any less scared because as quickly as I had touched the knob, I just as quickly recoiled my hand away from it and ran to my purse to find my phone. 

Matching the speed of lightning, I dialed Spencer and sighed a quick sigh of relief when I heard the line ringing. That was a good sign. 

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” I pleaded to myself as if God would hear it and grant me my prayer. “Please pick up, please pick up.” 

“The number you are trying to reach (702) -“

“Fuck!” 

That’s never happened before either. He never sent me to voicemail, not even when he was away and asleep. He’d always answer my call. This wasn’t a good sign. 

The knocking went away minutes ago, but my fear hadn’t. I couldn’t tell you what exactly was so scary to me, but all I knew is that I would feel a whole lot better, and honestly - a whole lot safer - when Spencer came home. 

“Come on, Spencer. Where are you?” I tried his cell phone probably three more times after the first call, my hope decreasing with each dial tone.

There was nothing I could do but wait. After all those missed calls, he’d have to call me back sometime, but I just hoped he’d be home before it’d get to that. 

My trepidation clearly clouded my judgement because rather than putting on clothes first and having my priorities in order, I was already reaching for the spare gun I knew Spencer kept in his bedside drawer. He didn’t know I knew it was there, but I did. And I planned to use it tonight if it came down to it. 

One hand held the top of my towel up from falling while the other shakily clenched a gun. 

Before this, I’d never actually held one before, but then again, there’s a lot of ‘firsts’ I was experiencing tonight. 

I didn’t expect it to be so heavy - and I don’t mean the actual size, but the weight of the object itself. This thing could take so many people’s lives, and I was holding it. It was a nauseating feeling, but my rapt fascination wouldn’t let me put it down. I had never noticed how intricate the contraption was. There were so many little details, so many little parts that needed to work harmoniously in order for it to carry out its function. I was only made more aware of just how many parts there were inside the gun because of my shaky hand unconsciously rattling the magazine inside. 

The clip sounded nearly empty. Jesus, Spencer, how many times have you had to use this thing?

My thoughts were cut short when the sound at the door returned. It didn’t sound like knocking, but something much worse. 

Someone was coming in. 

I wasn’t yet prepared for the worst so rather than confronting it outside, I stayed hidden within Spencer’s room ready to shoot when they finally came into my line of sight. 

If you were an intruder, I don’t think you’d be very intimidated at the sight of me, but for some reason, I still felt rather powerful. My hair was like strings draping over my shoulders since it was still damp, and the one hand I was using to hold the gun (the other being used as a towel holder) was shaking violently. I could barely carry this thing with one hand, and yet I still couldn’t put it down. 

I needed protection. 

I needed Spencer. 

I could hear footsteps slowly trailing in, and it seemed like the slower they walked, the faster my heart beat. 

“Who’s there?” My voice was loud, but it wasn’t nearly as threatening as it should’ve been to scare somebody. The dominance in my tone was clearly stolen by my fear. 

I saw a figure loom into the space between Spencer’s bedroom door frame and the living room, which was adequate distance for shooting, so with only partial hesitation, I nearly pulled the trigger.

“Shit!” The figure ducked their head while their hands raised into the air to suggest harmlessness - something a suspect would do to surrender. 

“(Y/n), put down the gun! Put down the gun! It’s me! It’s Spencer!” 

I could recognize his voice, but the storm’s darkness hid his face from me so I was still skeptical. It wasn’t until he swiftly came into the light to take the gun out of my hands that the small flicker of city lights illuminated his face. 

Spencer!

As soon as I could make out his perfect nose and his amber eyes, I melted into his already open embrace. I entered his arms wordlessly and shut my eyes so solidly with such relief that a tear escaped. 

“Hey, hey … you’re okay. I’m here. You’re okay, my dear.” He took my face in his hands to read me, and I think he must’ve seen my tears because his voice never travelled above a whisper. Maybe he thought if he spoke even a decibel louder, I’d shatter. He let my head travel back to his sternum, the warmest spot on his body, and again, he embraced me in a hug. His hands hovered in the air for a moment while he tried to find an appropriate place to put them - like I said before, he’d never seen me in just a towel, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he threw his good manners out the window and hugged me just as tightly as he would’ve had there been more covering me than just terry cloth. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m right here.”

He held me for longer than normal, but he knew the circumstances were different here. Maybe that’s why he kept a single arm around me even when he travelled to his dresser where he collected an old t-shirt that he would go on to slide over me. I let the towel drop when the t-shirt was fully on, creating a sort of magic trick, where he never saw my naked body. But that wasn’t exactly true. 

I didn’t need to be without clothes to be naked. I was naked right now, even in his shirt - completely and totally vulnerable. He could see the plain fear that held me prisoner tonight, and so he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. 

“Do you wanna sleep in my room tonight?” 

I nodded into his chest without a spoken word. He knew I would still be scared, and in some way, I think his doting treatment was how he believed he could make it up to me. He even helped me into his sheets, taking the time to tuck me in like a child. I realized later though, he might’ve only tucked me in so the movement of the bedsheets would mask the sound of him carefully sliding his gun back into its rightful spot in his drawer. 

“Where were you?” I finally croaked, neglecting to add, ‘I needed you.’ It would’ve been redundant. He knew I needed him.

“The storm knocked over a telephone pole just a mile away. I was almost home when it happened.” 

Somehow hearing that he was so close only made me more frustrated. Here I was, thinking I was on the verge of death when Spencer was literally just a few blocks down the street. 

“You scared me when you didn’t answer my calls.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see them until I was at the front door. I was too busy focusing on getting home to you as soon as possible while still driving safely through the storm.” 

With my eyes already shut, I could imagine him, his hands at ten and two on the wheel, his eyes straightward with nothing else in sight but the road ahead of him, his motivation to get home to the person who needed him most being what propelled that car forward - not even the gas. 

“I love you, you know that?” He whispered into my hair, where his fingers were already laced. 

“I know. And I love you, too.” I honestly replied. That’s why I need you here with me. It’s the only way I feel safe. 

I would’ve gone to sleep right then and there, but I was stuck on the fact that he was just a mile away this entire time. Maybe that was the point, though. 

He was never too far away. He was always right there, in one way or another. 

“In the morning, I have to leave at 7, so I’ll drop you off at the library.” What’d I tell you? He always made arrangements for me so I’d never ever be left alone. “So in the car ride there, you can tell me why you were about to shoot me.” 

After his statement was the first time I laughed that night. I nudged him to show my playful disapproval of his jest. 

“I thought you were an intruder!” My voice finally regained its volume. “You scared the shit out of me when you walked in.” 

Our laughter faded to silence and it seemed like that would conclude the night’s conversations, but I could still hear the gears in Spencer’s brain turning. 

“Hey, wait a minute - how did you even know I had a spare gun in my drawer?” 

To his question, I pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to answer, exaggerating my snores to emphasize my blatant sarcasm. 

“Answer me!” He persisted; I could hear him smiling.

But I only smirked against his chest and coquettishly cooed, “Goodnight, Spencer.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

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[tearlessrain]

Could you go into greater detail on how Tumblr is being used as a testing ground for other corporations?

against my better judgement and despite my complete lack of expertise on the subject, I shall. this is just my understanding/extrapolation of the situation though and there are other posts around that explain it much better than I’m about to, so take it with a grain of salt. maybe a lot of salt.

part of this site’s usefulness IS testing ads and features, presumably, but tumblr mainly benefits big corporate entities by virtue of being the biggest Meme Spawnpoint of the internet, above even places like reddit and 4chan, which used to have that distinction. these days even memes that originate there are usually filtered through tumblr before they get out to places like facebook and twitter. so basically we’re just a really good trend predictor.

there’s a popular myth/meme on this site, which a lot of us are extremely attached to, that we’re some kind of giant useless money sink that’s completely incomprehensible to big corporate entities (just look at how many of the notes on that post are along the lines of “but they’re clearly failing” and “well obviously it’s not working on me,” people really want to believe that we’ve all outsmarted the corporations and they’re secretly still losing somehow, which is very understandable but also wrong). but the fact is we’re literally owned by a corporation and if we were really that detrimental, the site would not still exist. they wouldn’t just be like “ah well, I guess you won this one, go, be free” they’d shut tumblr down to force us out into more profitable spaces like twitter. frankly I think the porn ban is the best evidence of that; porn used to be this site’s main export, but it’s not profitable, so despite the change being massively detrimental to most of the userbase and directly harming a lot of sex workers and artists, we (ostensibly) don’t have porn on tumblr anymore. I’m not trying to be a cynical bastard here but I think our collective smug superiority is misplaced and it’s ironically going to make us very easy to control.

luckily for us, though, the most beneficial thing for them to do most of the time is leave us alone and watch trends develop/keep tabs on broad site-wide reactions to changes or ad campaigns, so personally I don’t think it really matters that much as long as we’re aware of it and don’t fall into the trap of believing we’re exempt from the “if the service is free then you are the product” rule. we’re a bunch of lions in a nature reserve with radio collars on who are allowed to mostly keep living and behaving like wild lions, because it benefits someone for us to be doing that, firmly believing that we’re somehow living on the only remaining patch of undeveloped savannah out of luck/because we’re just that clever and good at defending our territory. and we're not allowed to fuck in front of the safari tours.

this doesn’t mean that we aren’t the closest thing that currently exists to a last holdout of the internet wild west. socially and on an individual level, we kind of are. don’t feel guilty for enjoying what we have here. just don’t fall into the trap of thinking we’re not also a part of the modern corporate-driven internet.

[cacophony-of-notions]

My feelings on a common misconception interpretation of Sam in “Slice Girls”: 

TL;DR Sam did not kill Emma as “revenge” and Dean was not ethically inconsistent in his actions with Emma versus Amy.

I have seen many times people claim that Sam killed Emma as “revenge” for Amy. I have seen both his antis and his hardcore stans say this (the latter as a means of “justifying” a decision Sam made that they traditionally wouldn’t stand behind… regardless of the fact that killing a kid to get revenge on his brother would paint him in a far worse light than taking the situation at face-value). 

In the same way that Dean killed Amy because he legitimately thought it was the right call, Sam killed Emma because he legitimately thought it was the right call. That’s it. Hate both of their decisions, agree with one but not the other, agree with neither… no matter what, I don’t think wanting “revenge” and taking that out on a child had anything to do with Sam’s actions. There are a few reasons why.

First, looking at the context of the season as a whole, Sam has been worried about Dean’s mental state for most of the season in much the same way that Dean has been worried about his, and accordingly, they didn't trust each other’s judgment fully. 

Dean killing Amy was to some extent, about not trusting Sam’s judgement due to his attachment to Amy and the metal state Sam had been in that season. Sam had been hallucinating and had also lied about it. So on top of not being sure if Sam could accurately grasp reality at any given time, him hiding it also made it very difficult for Dean to trust Sam to be honest if he was hallucinating, needed help, or needed to take a step back.

Sam’s decision to kill Emma was, likewise, to some extent, about not trusting Dean’s judgement due to his natural attachment to Emma as a father and Dean’s mental state that season. We see, on several occasions in season 7, Sam noting that Dean is drinking more alcohol than usual (which is saying something). Several times in the season, Sam expresses concern over this, to Bobby as well as to Dean directly. Sam’s lack of confidence in Dean is actually enough that, when Dean begins to notice things moving from where he left them and starts to suspect that Bobby is haunting them, Sam repeatedly and flippantly dismisses his observations and chalks all of it up to Dean drinking too much and grieving too hard and being an unreliable witness. 

Second, Sam and Dean came to an understanding about Amy in “The Mentalist”, and Sam ended up saying at the end of the episode that Dean’s actions made sense, and that he was right that Sam’s judgement couldn’t be trusted because he was too close to the situation emotionally. 

Season 7’s “The Mentalist” covers the confrontation between Sam and Dean over Amy, and Sam’s decision to work side by side with Dean again. There are two scenes—the initial blow up from Sam and Dean’s rebuttal, and then the resolution at the end of the episode. 

First the initial blow up and Dean’s rebuttal: 

Dean: We agreed to work the case. We didn’t agree for you to be a dick the whole time. 

Sam: What?

Dean: You’re pissed. Okay? And you’ve got a right. 

Sam: Yeah, damn straight. 

Dean: But enough’s enough. 

Sam: Says who? Look, I’ll work this damn case, but you lied to me, and you killed my friend. 

Dean:  No, I put down a monster who killed four people, and if you didn’t know her, you’d have done the same thing. 

Sam: I did know her, Dean.

Dean: Yeah, which is why you couldn’t do it. Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are, you just can’t. 

Sam: Don’t pull that card! That’s bull! Look, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that if something feels wrong, it probably is!

Dean: Usually, yeah. But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn’t do it, so I did. That’s what family does—the dirty work. And I would have told you eventually, once I knew that this whole “waving a gun at Satan” thing was a one-time show. I think it’s reasonable to want to know that you’re off the friggin’ high dive, Sam. You almost got us both killed. So you can be pissed all you want, but quite being a bitch. 

Then there was the resolution at the end of the episode: 

Sam: Look, you know what... you were right—about Amy. If she was just any monster, I’m not sure I could have let her walk away. I dunno. I mean, I’ll never know. 

Dean: What are you saying?

Sam: What I’m saying is… I get why you did it. You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here’s the thing: you can’t just look me in the face and tell me you’re fine. I mean, you’re not sleeping, you drink for the record-

Dean: Oh here we go…

Sam: Look, whatever. Last one to preach. I know. But… just be honest with me. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?

Dean: You want me to be honest?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: I went with my gut. And that felt right. I didn’t trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cas, I’m having trouble trusting anybody. And as far as how I’ve been acting… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t like lying to you. You know, it doesn’t feel right. So yeah, you got me there. I’ve been climbing the walls. 

Third, in context, when Sam brings up Amy in the car, it is to say Dean choked with Emma in the same way that Sam choked with Amy and it could have gotten him killed—not that killing Emma was somehow vengeance for Amy. See the conversation at the end of “Slice Girls”:

Sam: What did you say to me... when I was the one who choked? What did you say about Amy? “You said you kill the monster”!

Dean: I was going to!

Sam: Oh, like hell you were! You think I’m an idiot? 

Dean: What you think I am?!

Sam: Dean, you were gonna let her walk! 

Dean: No I wasn’t. That’s ridiculous! 

Sam: Look, man, she was not yours. Not really. 

Dean: Actually, she, uh, she was, really. She just also happened to be a crazy man-killing monster. But uh, hey-

Sam: You know what? Bobby was right. Your head’s not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now... 

Dean: Now what? Oh what, you’re dealing with it so perfect? Yeah, news flash, pal. You’re just as screwed up as I am! You’re just... bigger. 

Sam: What?!

Dean: I don't know!

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... it almost got you killed. Now, I don’t care how you deal. I really, really don’t. But just don’t...  don’t get killed. 

In no way does Sam suggest here that Dean “deserved” to have his kid shot in front of him as some kind of ���payback”. In fact, that doesn't really make sense 

In the context of the conversation in “The Mentalist, where Sam said he understood why Dean felt the way he did about Amy. 

It also doesn’t make sense in the context fo Sam’s comment that Emma “wasn’t really yours”. If he did it to hurt Dean, he would have pressed into that relationship, not dismissed it. 

He lectured Dean because he was scared Dean wouldn't have been able to pull the trigger and would have gotten himself killed. It’s the same “are you off the high-dive?” lecture Dean gave him, it’s the same “I did the dirty work for you because you couldn’t”. The shot Sam took wasn’t hesitant, but it also wasn’t emotional. It was calculated and ruthless. It was a choice Sam made, that Emma could not be trusted. He made that call. And maybe he was right—maybe the brainwashing went too deep, and Emma would have come after Dean again if they let her go (which is probably what Sam was really worried about—that she would have gone after Dean again and gotten the drop on him or he wouldn’t have shot her), or maybe she would have come after someone else. Maybe Sam was wrong, and Emma could have been persuaded away from life in a cult. We can say the same about Dean killing Amy. All they had was her word that she wouldn't kill again. And yet, if her son got sick again, it seems reasonable to assume she’d go on another killing spree. Maybe Dean was right to kill her, maybe he was wrong.

Other notes: 

[1] Sam misses a certain detail when he compares Dean’s actions with Emma to his own situation with Amy. Sam only compares the two situation by virtue of him or Dean choking due to an attachment to the “monster” in question. However, there’s a distinction between the two kills that is important within Dean’s personal ethical framework, while it’s not necessarily important within Sam’s... to the point that Sam doesn't really see this distinction at all (in fact, he may not know about it). Namely, Emma had never killed anyone before while Amy had killed four people. Dean’s actions in both situations are actually ethically consistent—which is another misconception in fandom. From Dean’s framework, Emma and Amy are not the same. Emma and Amy’s son are the same. We see the distinction Dean draws between Amy and her son in “The Girl Next Door”: Dean kills Amy but lets her son go because he’s never killed anyone. He doesn’t rescind that even after Amy’s son tells Dean he’s going to come after him eventually and kill him. Dean treats Emma in the exact same way. He tells her he would let her walk away because she’s never killed anyone, and he doesn’t rescind the offer even if it seems like she still might try to come after him again. This is also consistent with how Dean treated Bobby John in Season 6 “Two and a Half Men”, Jack in Season 4 “Metamorphosis”, and Madison in Season 2 “Heart”. 

[2] When he kills Amy, Dean is notedly dealing with trust issues that he himself acknowledges, after what happened with Cas. He trusted Cas implicitly even when Bobby and Sam doubted him, and he got burned, and it shook his ability to trust in anyone (see Sam’s “wobbly” talk above”). Killing Amy is a part of that, according to Dean’s own perceptions. 

[3] To a certain extent, it might even be said that Sam and Dean aren't just wary of trusting each other’s judgement, but also wary of trusting themselves. For example, “You kill the monster” is a hardline stance that’s unusual for Sam and that is rejected by both brothers as early as Season 2 “Bloodlust”. But because Sam doesn’t trust himself at that point in time, and also does not trust Dean’s judgement either, he does what he thinks is “safe” when his own mind is half shredded and he has a depressed and alcoholic brother who he’s afraid is going to let a monster kid murder him one day (be it Emma or Amy’s son). If he were to let Emma go and worse came to worse, Sam doesn’t feel he can rely on Dean to defend himself from her, and he doesn’t know what his own mind state is going to be like in the future. So he does what’s “safe” for them both. In the same way, Dean’s actions with Amy could be viewed as him choosing what’s “safe”.

[jaskiersvalley]

@i-am-a-blob-fish You absolutely had a galaxy brain idea here! This is absolutely a wonderful idea and I wholeheartedly agree with you. A continuation of this story.

The tour bus was one of the few times the wolves could be in whatever form they preferred. Somehow Jaskier had managed to find them the most oblivious driver on earth. Or maybe he was just too used to the weird things celebrities tended to get up to when bored. So he didn’t seem too fazed when he had an odd mix of sometimes wolves and sometimes humans on the bus while Jaskier talked to them all like they were interchangeable entities.

That was how Jaskier found himself with a reputation. It became a bit of a trademark of his to be seen with at least one wolf by his side. People complained quite a lot, asking about permits and safety but Jaskier never acknowledged them. After all, the wolves weren’t on leashes, nor did they have collars. Nobody could probe they were his. If anything, Jaskier told his management that he was theirs, the wolves’ human. A few outlets pondered about the link between the scarred wolves and the scarred bodyguards Jaskier was seen with quite often. However, nobody dared say it outright for fear of ridicule. Even if the scars looked eerily identical on humans and wolves. Even if the humans seemed to have a weird penchant for wearing yellow contact-lenses that were rather wolf like.

As Jaskier’s fan base grew, the wolves got their own fans. It became a challenge amongst fans to see all four wolves. Somehow, things got to the point that there was always a wolf on stage with Jaskier. Rumour had it, it was after a fan with less than pleasant intent had tried to clamber on and only a white haired, gruff bodyguard had been able to stop him. After that, a wolf was always on stage and there were fan arguments about which wolf was the favourite. Some people were a fan of the white wolf, probably the most distinctive of the lot. He was a habit of falling asleep and twitching as though running in a dream while on stage. Yet if there was even a single stumble or flat note from Jaskier he was up. Little did people know that Geralt had a knack for sleeping anywhere on the tour bus as long as Jaskier was within hearing distance.

Others had a marked preference for the smallest wolf. He seemed to love Jaskier with shameless honesty, always under his feet and pressing against his leg or lying on his feet. Most of the time, when Jaskier took a break between songs for a drink, he ended up having to give Lambert a tummy tickle which had him thumping his tail enthusiastically. It was Eskel who suggested doing it near the drums so Lambert’s tail got its own drum solo which turned into a real crowd-pleaser. This was no different in human form. Lambert was almost constantly on the lookout for cuddles, sitting down next to someone and slipping closer and closer until he was shamelessly sprawled over his victim. It was usually Eskel or Jaskier, only because they gave the best head pats.

Another popular one was when Eskel sat with Jaskier at gigs. He was one that the crowds took a little while to warm up to until someone pointed out he always sat with his scars facing away from the crowd. Things really turned in his favour when a microphone picked up his soft whines. And then Jaskier was taking a break from singing and shoving his microphone at Eskel and encouraging him to ‘sing’. The howl had the crowd joining in and, from then on, whenever Eskel was guarding Jaskier on stage, it could be expected that for at least one song Jaskier would trade his lines for Eskel’s howls. Even better, when they were cooped up on the tour bus and travelling, Jaskier was bored, he could grab a guitar and shove it at Eskel, teaching him how to move progressively less clumsy fingers over the frets. While not a quick student, Eskel was diligent and persistent. After a few months, he could just about strum out simple chord progressions while singing along with Jaskier.

Vesemir was the one who divided the fans the most. He didn’t do anything on stage except stare. But his eyes were constantly on Jaskier, unwavering and guarding. Some people dismissed him as the oldest of the wolves, grizzled and old looking. Boring. But his devotion was something nobody could question. He even watched Jaskier when they were out and about. While the younger bodyguards deflected crowds, Vesemir would be the one with eyes on Jaskier at all times. Nobody could snatch him from under his watchful stare.

In a way, it was inevitable that some idiot would try and ruin everyone’s fun. Jaskier was making his way to a venue when someone charged, knife in hand and screaming obscenities. The crowd screamed as Vesemir yanked Jaskier behind him while Lambert jumped at the attacker, Eskel and Geralt ready to step in while also protecting Jaskier.

“It’s your turn tonight,” Geralt snapped at Eskel. “Get them in.”

There were murmurs of someone getting hurt in the altercation and Jaskier fretted with his two wolves when neither Lambert or Geralt appeared before he was due on stage. Not willing to leave Jaskier alone, both Eskel and Vesemir followed him onto stage. The crowd went wild at the sight of not one but two wolves. They settled on either side of Jaskier, the old one staring at him while the scarred one stared out at the crowd, obviously in no mood to sing.

Three songs in, the two wolves’ attention snapped to the side of the stage and even Jaskier looked over, face softening into something sad but tender. The entire crowd fell silent as two more wolves padded in, the youngest leaning against the white one while limping, a crude, bloody bandage running over his front leg.

“Oh Lambert,” Jaskier breathed, forgetting the microphone and everything else. He approached the injured wolf who whined at him softly. Nobody dared breathe as the scarred wolf got up and moved next to Lambert, nudging him to lie down and protectively curled around him. Coos rippled through the crowd at that, it only got louder when the white wolf flopped down and the oldest joined the pile.

“Alright pups,” Jaskier rumbled softly. He stood up and turned back to the crowd with a grin. “Looks like a full house tonight!”

Attention was very much torn between Jaskier’s performance and the pile of wolves. Especially when Lambert sat up with a yawn and limped off stage. Three minutes later a human with a bandage wandered back towards the side stage, looking a little rumpled and tired. Those who could see were pointing him out, especially when the scarred wolf looked at him agitated. The first step onto the stage and the wolf covered his eyes in a very human gesture. Realising his mistake, Lambert stepped back into the shadows and a moment later a wolf limped out to join the pile again to three very judgemental looks from the other wolves.

“That’s Lambert for you,” Jaskier shrugged with a laugh. The ruse was up. “If any of you others want to introduce yourselves, you might as well.”

Walking over, Jaskier watched as Lambert shifted, a little sheepish and the crowd cheered wildly. He turned and reached for the scarred wolf who visibly rolled his eyes but a moment later a hand was grabbing Lambert’s as Eskel pulled himself up.

“Idiot,” he muttered but stayed pressed close to Lambert.

“Eskel, our wonderful singing wolf!” Jaskier introduced with a grin and squealed when someone all but tackled him, Geralt, human as could be, was rubbing against him like a wolf.

“My white wolf, Geralt.” Jaskier was purring as he gave Geralt a look that was impossible to misread as anything but love.

Grumbling, the final wolf shifted and Vesemir shook his head at the others.

“Papa wolf, where would we be without you, Vesemir?” The sweet words were met with a snort and Vesemir shifted back, settling back down into a comfortable but alert sprawl. It was an obvious suggestion and Jaskier shooed the other three to go relax in the changing rooms or stretch their legs in a run around building while he finished up.

After that, while the wolves still made appearances on the stage, the crowd now screamed their names, eager for their attention as much as Jaskier’s. And nobody ever dared try anything against Jaskier again. Especially not when he had Lambert and Eskel snuggled on stage, Lambert happily shameless in demanding attention from both of them. Only once did Eskel pounce on him playfully and they tumbled off the stage amidst growls and nips. They slunk back to Jaskier a moment later, looking sheepish and he had to stop singing to laugh at them. Videos of the incident circulated in fan groups for months on end after, admiring how the wolves both seemed to realise they were falling at the same time and seemed intent on protecting the other from the worst of the fall.

[bookofmirth]

Hi! I’m the anon that asked you to elaborate on an earlier point you made and I appreciate your reply! It definitely helped me to better understand what you meant.

I wanted to hop back in your asks because there is still a little disconnect in my brain that I wanted to hear your reply for. It is no secret that POC in real life have been vilified for their actions, speech and thoughts for the past few hundreds years in American history (not to mention throughout the rest of the world).

Because of this, I’m wondering how it is possible for an author to write a POC character that is morally grey or even a villain without somehow drawing connection to a real life historically racist occurrences. If SJM writes that elain is uncomfortable around lucien and he happens to be a POC and disabled, and in doing so, that is calling back to the racist history you mentioned (even if that’s not the actual reason elain is uncomfortable), then how is any POC character able to be written without facing the same fate? Since POC have been historically criticized for pretty much every single thing, even breathing it seems like.

I love to see authors writing about diverse characters and in my opinion it’s boring when characters are “perfect”. I like to see morally grey or villainous characters but if authors are going to be criticized for writing POC characters who are controversial, I don’t know how anyone is going to be able to write without facing backlash.

I hope this makes, I apologize if it’s a bit all over the place. I’m hoping you can help provide some clarity again. Thank you!

Hello! Sorry for taking a couple of days on this one, I knew it would be complex.

The tl;dr is yes - it is possible to write a character of color who is morally grey. It just has to be done thoughtfully.

I think that you are right, it is really tricky for people to write POC or for example disabled people, or sometimes queer people, who are villains. But the issue isn't so much that they can't be written as being morally grey, it's more about whether their characterization falls into common, harmful tropes.

One of my absolute favorite booktubers talks a lot about the portrayal of people with disfigurement in media, and I think that watching her could be helpful! She made this video recently (I haven't watched it yet) and she also had an Instagram post go viral a while back because of the movie The Witches. Here is the post, and she was asked to write about it, so here is an article. The point is that it isn't the one occurrence, but the repeated trends that people have of portraying people (with disfigurements, in this case) as evil, as less than human, as wrong, as Others.

Each marginalized group has their history of having really harmful tropes or stereotypes thrust on them. The idea that trans women or gay men are predators, that bisexual women are sluts, the single Black mother is a "welfare queen", etc. Those are the stories that authors should avoid repeating. It's not just "POC can't be villains or you're racist," but does that villain play into stereotypes about that particular race or ethnicity, stereotypes that have been used to marginalize them or harm them in the past.

It's a lot to take in, I know. It's a constant process of reconciling with our history (by "our" I mean American, I am sure that these take different forms elsewhere) and seeing if and how that is portrayed in current media, and pushing back against those representations.

I agree that authors, even if straight and white etc. etc. should be able to write about characters who are not like them. The thing I don't like about some of this criticism, especially in places like book Twitter, is that people try to "purify" everything so that if you aren't queer, you can't write a queer story, as one example (see: the harassment Becky Albertalli has faced that forced her to come out). This is all fiction, and if we can't write about anything outside of what we, personally, have experienced, then what's the point??

The easiest way for writers to avoid this is to do their homework, especially if they are writing about something they don't experience personally. I have seen people say that a good distinction to make is that writers can have a character whose identity they don't share, but they should not write about what it is to be that identity. So in other words, it's okay for a straight author to have queer characters, but a bit icky if they write a story about what it's like to be queer. I think that I agree with this take. I would personally rather read a story about what it's like to be queer from someone who is, but I think anyone could write a story with queer characters.

This is also why sensitivity readers are used more often lately. I don't think it's possible to know every single harmful stereotype that exists, the only reason I know a lot is because I spend a lot of my professional development time on these issues and read nonfiction about them. So getting help from elsewhere is a good idea. I don't think it's possible to please everyone or avoid every faux pas.

I think that on the flip side, a lot of people will argue "well it's just a book" and yes, but that book doesn't exist in a vacuum. If it's perpetuating harmful stereotypes, wouldn't we want it to... not?

I am still on my soapbox haha but I also think that books are art and art does not have to moralize or teach us something or accurately represent anything. However, it's not exempt from criticism. That's why I usually defer to my own judgement on these things, trying to balance how a book or movie or whatever fits into the broader context of marginalization and social justice, with the purpose of art. That works for me because I am aware of what I am consuming, while also just plain enjoying myself.

I hope this helps! It's super tricky because I think we all want and expect different things of the media we consume, and some of us are aware of more painful or troublesome aspects of history and how those impact media, and some of us aren't aware, and some of us care a lot, and some of us don't care at all... I prefer being well-informed and aware, personally.

[turtletimewriting]

Bonding

Summary: A soulmate au’s perspective on tickling! 

Note: A tickle fic if you couldn’t guess! Also, still somewhat new to writing for Sanders Sides so prepare for some shoddiness haha! 

_._._

Virgil woke up feeling his chest almost glowing with emotion. A warmth that settled in front of his ribs that made his eyes flutter open and a smile naturally curl on to his face. The quiet warmth tried its hardest to lull him into sleep again but his slowly wakening mind was starting to ask questions. What were the others doing that meant they was radiating with happiness? 

He had stumbled upon his soulmates just a little under sixth months ago. Tracking down soulmates had always felt like an impossible task. Hell, it took years before he even realised that he had three of them! Feeling their emotions obviously doesn’t make them easy to find- he could be having the happiest day of his life but that wouldn’t mean he’d be dancing down the streets or smiling proudly. He had found Patton first. He suspected him when they were partnered together for a project at work. The sinking heavy feeling in his chest to the rapid glow of excitement matched Patton’s expression when the project was announced and then when he realised that Virgil was his partner. Thankfully, Patton had found his other soulmates and so saved Virgil the heart attacks of trying to find the others. 

Virgil slowly and quietly crept out of their guest bedroom and peered through the stairs. He wasn’t surprised by the sight of them all piled on top of each other, like a bunch of spilt over kittens, it was a familiar sight. The surprise was the frantic laughter. 

Logan’s laugh was distinct. It was somehow both squeaky but also bellowing loud. Like he was throwing his whole self into his laugh. Roman was laying across him and was giving him the most sickening love sick eyes to his upturned laughing face. Roman’s hands were squeezing his sides leisurely, squeezing  followed by quick poking. Patton was lying underneath Logan but his hands still had access to his armpits and occasionally his neck. 

“Rohohoho-Romaaaaanahahaha!” He uselessly cried out but his flailing hands never seemed to push Roman away. Patton never even faced any opposition. He was free to tickle away at whatever was free to him. 

“What, Specs? I’m right here! No need to yell, what do you want?” 

“I bet he needs some more tickles! Look! He’s not even blushing that much, he definitely needs some more tickly tickly tickles!” Patton squeaked with his own giggles escaping. 

“No no nahaa! Hahahaha, tickleeeeehehehehahahaha!” 

“So what’s going on here?” Virgil smirked as he dramatically leaned over the stair banister as he menacingly tapped his fingers. He couldn’t help but huff a laugh when all three heads immediately whipped round to face him. 

That laugh quickly died though when he felt that warmth in his chest freeze over. It was now sharp and settled into a dull ache. Three sets of dread, fear and worry. 

“Woah, wait. I didn't interrupt anything did I?”

“No! We just didn't expect you to be up yet,” Patton chuckled as he looked over at the others.

“Yeah! You’re up! Like, before ten o’ clock? I’m honestly impressed!” Roman gasped as he flounced off the sofa and approached him. “What’s the special occasion? Big plans for the day?” 

“Roman,” Logan warned as he sat back up while scrubbing at his mused up hair. His face burned red already but he felt extra squirmy at the thought to having this conversation without any planning or prep. They were going to have this conversation at some point! When Logan had carefully constructed a script! But he had to do it now. He could feel Virgil’s anxiety. The familiar burn had erupted into an all consuming fire. If they tried to hide this away then Virgil would only just spiral. 

All this worry caused by tickling. This was just illogical. 

“Virgil, don’t worry. I... have a particular fondness for t-tic... tickling. For some unknown reason!” Logan grimaced as he spoke, that was immediately unclear, unspecific and defensive. His mind scrambled for more words before reviewing them, “But, Patton and Roman also revealed that they shared this fondness and so it’s been present within our relationship for a while,” 

“Oh,” Virgil hummed with a sickly sweet tone. His own thoughts racing with a small glow of anticipating excitement. 

“We didn’t hide it from you for any reason! We just know that some people can find this weird... We know you wanted to go slow,” Patton smiled as he stood up and walked up to Virgil. He gently held his hands. 

“You all shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry that you felt the need to hide that! You shouldn’t have to hide parts of yo-”

“No! Virgil, none of us are wording this adequately. We were embarrassed, yes. And that’s why we hid this. Not because we didn’t trust you or because you gave us reason not to. This is a problem on us. Not you.” 

“Ok. Ok, thanks for telling me that. Even though I kinda just walked into it. I-I don’t have a problem with... that.” Virgil hinted.

The room seemed to stop as they all took a deeper breath. Virgil’s fiery intense anxiety settled back into a smaller burn like normal. The others’ emotions had settled back into a normal neutral presence. 

“So... does this mean you want to help us tickle Logan to pieces?” Roman cheered. 

Logan squeaked but sat still as Virgil rigidly sat down beside him. He slowly reached his hands out as if Logan was going to flinch away but seeing no complaints... Virgil broke out into an evil smirk. 

That same rigid worry wasn’t present at all the second his hands reached his ribs. Logan didn’t have much time to think about that though as Roman quickly followed his lead. Virgil skittering all over his ribs and Roman’s squeezing thigh tickles only felt all the worse when Patton’s whispered teases joined the lot. 

After thoroughly tickling Logan to pieces, the others got up to finally start breakfast while Logan was left frantically giggling on the sofa. The others were practically glowing with the brand new intense warmth and happiness nestling in their chests. “So is Logan the only lee?” Virgil asked as he finally sat down at the table. 

“Oh, I think we all tend to switch,” Roman responded without too much thought but the other two had frozen in their tasks. 

“Wait, you know what a lee is!” Patton squealed. Logan himself was standing with his own powerful evil smirk. Virgil was now frozen himself. He wanted to hint at just how fine he was with their... fondness. But he never wanted to outright say it!

“Uh...” 

“Unless you absolutely don’t want this, I would encourage you to flee,” Logan smirked before running up to the table. 

“Too late!” Roman cheered as he caught Virgil round his middle before he could even flee from the table. His immediately curled his fingers into his sides. Smiling wider when Virgil’s excited anticipation blossom in chest. Excitement! Logan leaned down at them and tauntingly raised his wiggling fingers to Virgil’s tummy. 

Once they touched down, Virgil tried his best to school his expression into something resembling nonchalance. But... it had been awhile since he was last tickled and he had forgotten what it felt like. He immediately squealed and so the dam broke instantly. Logan’s fingers danced gracefully over his tummy leaving trails of tickly tingles. It felt like the longer he tickled, the more tickles Virgil had to just take. 

“Logaahahahaha! Ahahehehehaahaha! Rohohoahahahaha!” Virgil simply folded in half as if that would protect his tickly tummy but Roman kept him balanced upright. 

“Aww Virgie-poo! Are you a little lee yourself? A little tickle craving lee! Oh, if only we knew earlier! You deserve all the tickles you can take! All of the tickly tickly tickles! Soft tickles, hard tickles, feather tickles, tummy tickles...” Patton cooed from the kitchen while keeping an eye on the eggs. What, someone has to be responsible and make breakfast! 

Virgil had yet to put on his make up and so his blush was on full display. His rarely heard laugh rang and echoed through the house. But his laughter had a wheezy quality. Plus, he was barely awake as it was. They couldn’t really tickle him for long. 

“How about this! If you admit where you fit into the tickle community, we’ll free you!” Roman cooed as he pulled Virgil into his lap as he sat down himself. Logan caught on and slowed his tickling down to simple tracing around his belly button through his pyjama shirt. Like he was playing a silent game of round and round the garden. 

“Eheheheeeee! Noooooo!” Virgil now started to flail but he knew that no judgement would come from his newly revealed switch boyfriends, “Ehehahahaha, I’mmmahehehehe a leeeee I think hehehehe!” 

And it was since that morning that their relationship evolved to be a lot more tickly. 

The switch comment Roman had made was quickly debunked. Patton and Logan were typically the lers of the household with Roman and Virgil lees for most of the time. Logan and Patton were both comfortably switches but they were more often than not the ticklers thanks to how tickle hungry Roman and Virgil typically were. Not that Virgil and Roman didn’t get their fair share of revenge! But... it was usually them who would start not so obviously hinting for tickles. 

But their soul link and their new tickling was going to drive Virgil insane.

If he felt his chest explode in playful dancing warmth then he knew that he should run and hide. That special feeling belonged to Patton alone. For when he was in the most evil tickle monster mode. Any time he felt that emotion, it would soon be followed by someone’s frantic bursting laughter. Sometimes it lingered until Patton would give in and hunt someone. Sometimes it would erupt suddenly. Like if he saw Virgil standing on his tip toes with his arms outstretched to reach the highest cupboard. Or if he saw Logan sitting with his feet resting on the coffee table which no one was allowed to have their feet on. Both times, neither one could react to the emotion quick enough before they felt the tickle attack. 

He was walking home while failing to hide his wobbly smiley. That same playfulness had been shining for the past half an hour. And none of the others were home. 

Meaning Virgil was walking home to a frustrated Ler who’s been wanting to tickle someone for the past half an hour...

And Patton famously preferred to tickle Virgil.

Even just that soul link emotion was enough to have Virgil practically giggling down the streets. That feeling was becoming worse than any whispered tickly teases. He couldn’t school his expression so this was made all the worse because that meant Patton and the others could also feel that Virgil was in a lee mood. Virgil’s excited anticipating lee moods felt like a mix between his anxious burn and the most joyous warmth. The others were all smiling knowing that his lee mood started shortly after Patton’s ler mood started. 

Patton had harnessed all the patience in the world to stop himself from immediately attacking Virgil as he walked in. He waited carefully ducked behind the living room door and as his lee walked through with a confused frown. Then he struck! 

“Pat? I’m back- oh goaahhahahahahahAHAHAAAA!” Patton’s hands latched on to his sides to then guide him to the sofa. 

“Hey Virge! Sorry but Patton’s not here right now, guess who’s here in his place though?” 

“PAAAATTON! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! No! You’reeehahahAHAHAA you’re ahaha! You’re not ahahahahaha! Patton!” Virgil threw his head back once he was sat on the sofa. Patton was now just holding his sides with a teasy grin! The gentle pressure enough to spark endless giggles. 

“No guesses? I’m not who? You can’t even say my name? My name is...” Patton leaned down close and Virgil flinched anticipating neck tickles, “My name is the tickle monster!” 

In a flash, he turned around to Virgil’s socked feet. His ultimate tickle spot! And boy did it look like they needed some good old tickles after such a long day at work. 

Virgil desperately curled up but was blocked by Patton’s back. It almost looked like Virgil was cuddling into him as thanks for the tickle monster’s tickles scuttling over his soles. Patton was just tickling over his socks but it felt just as bad as bare soles. 

“PAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAA! NOOHOHOHHAHAHAHAHA!” 

Roman and Logan had to spend the next hour awkwardly avoiding their co-workers questions about their own proud wobbly smiles. Their soul link was bursting with such joyful happiness. 

[ladylynse]

Prompt or musing for TAZ:A x DP crossover?

I went with a musing, Anon, but feel free to drop me a three sentence fic prompt if you like. For this crossover, I’d go one of two ways: Danny or Dani. 

Dani’s already off exploring on her own. It’s perfectly feasible she’d stop in at Amnesty Lodge at one point, with or without hearing anything coming out of the supposedly sleepy town of Kepler, and somehow find herself in the middle of things with people who are fast becoming like family to her. (I love the found family trope with Dani, okay? She needs it.) No one judges her for who she is now, and they’re not trying to pry into her past by asking a billion questions about her parents, and she doesn’t have to hide her ghost half from them, because they’re all like she is. Kinda. She might not be from Sylvain (she’s heard them talking and doesn’t think it’s part of the Ghost Zone, getting there through a portal or no, though she might be wrong as she certainly hasn’t explored every place within the Ghost Zone), but the questionable stability of her molecular structure means she can relate to their problems more than they know.

For Danny, well, Fenton family road trip to Kepler, of course. There have been stories coming out of that area for ages, and it’s ramped up recently. The kids are old enough that they can handle themselves in the field, even if they hate ghost hunting, so it’ll be all right to bring them along. Besides, they might be more eager to actually do ghost hunting with their parents if they aren’t in Amity Park, too.

With the Fentons being on (a working) vacation, they rent rooms in Amnesty Lodge. It’s, uh, no secret what the Fentons are, which makes some residents uncomfortable, but they keep their disguises on and steer clear of the ghost hunters, which is incredibly easy because of how loud Jack is. They’re used to keeping an extra guard up around the FBI; these new guests aren’t terribly different. In both cases, they can’t afford to be found out. 

(Said FBI agents aren’t impressed that stories are spreading enough that some amateur investigators are showing up, since that’s what they figure the Fentons are--though one of them may or may not know someone in the Guys in White and suggests that, if the Fentons really are experts in their field and someone’s playing ghost to murder other people, well, maybe it wouldn’t be completely unethical to let them find out what they can find out...and then go in and do a proper investigation before they mess anything up.)

Danny’s trying to come to terms with the fact that his ghost sense went off the moment they got near this place, meaning his parents were right about there actually being ghosts here. He’s on his guard because of that, knowing he has to find said ghost(s) as soon as possible, because if they’re friendly, he and Jazz need to convince them to leave town for a bit or figure out how to sabotage all the Fenton equipment without their parents realizing that’s what they’re up to and that any sabotage actually happened.

Jack and Maddie go off into town to investigate leads at the earliest opportunity, the kids pleading the excuse of settling in to stay behind, but when they hear about the Cryptonomica, they must all go. There’s no hope of arguing. Danny and Jazz get dragged along even though Danny would rather try to find the ghosts before his parents do. It’s clear enough to Danny and Jazz that the Cryptonomica is a giant tourist trap, but....

There’s an edge of truth in some of it that Danny finds distinctly unsettling. 

For instance, there’s a stuffed yeti that looks like the ghosts of the Far Frozen, and with the Ghost Zone being a mirror of the Real World, being connected....

Things start to spiral out of Danny’s control fairly quickly after that. His parents are trying to show them how to do some actual investigating to track down ghosts in case equipment fails, which involves questioning essentially everyone who will talk to them, and it becomes very clear very fast that weird near death brushes and attacks and murder are a current thing, not a happened at some point in the last fifty years thing, which makes it harder to convince their parents that it’s perfectly okay for the two of them to go off alone. They manage it, mostly thanks to the fact that Jack and Maddie trust Jazz’s judgement.

Naturally, Danny and Jazz aren’t acting like normal children, and Ned heard every word they were whispering to each other in the Cryptonomica, which immediately put them on the radar of the Pine Guard. (And, let’s face it, if Momma’s around, she pegs Danny very quickly.) A quick side investigation into the Fenton family is done to assess how much of a threat they are, and they connection between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom is made almost before he shows up--but, really, Phantom making an appearance just clinched it. 

A botched investigation attempt on Danny and Jazz’s part ends with them realizing this place isn’t just haunted, that there are more than just ghosts lurking here, and if Danny hadn’t been able to turn the two of them intangible, they would probably both be ghosts. They get rescued and confronted, and contrary to how I usually draw out confrontations with ample misconceptions, there would be frank conversations. Danny and Jazz are kids, and the others are adults. If the kids are not going to sit this out as they should, they at least need to know enough about what’s going on to not get themselves killed--and, frankly, working together might prevent all of them getting killed, as that remains a very distinct possibility.

Jazz ultimately gets benched for her safety, which means it’s her job to find ways to distract her parents and the FBI and cover for Danny. Danny gets to help because, well, he was the reason he and Jazz survived their first encounter, and he can do things the rest of them can’t. He doesn’t meet the Mothman, but he can’t help but think of Clockwork when he hears stories. And the archway in the woods, well.... He’s got some experience with portals. Not good experience, and not necessarily useful experience, but maybe it wasn’t a total fluke that his parents picked this haunted town for their hunting trip.

(more like this)

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-5)

Word count: 5.5K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: None

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​​ I love you, babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Y/N! Y/N, open the door!”

You hurriedly stepped out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and a towel wrapped around your waist.

Kevin was standing in front of the bathroom, not even a little concerned about the state of your dressing. 

“We’re taking bets about whether it will rain this week or not,” he announced. “You have to cast your vote.”

You looked around the room. Meg’s door was locked from the outside which meant she wasn’t here.

“Who let you in?”

“I have a key to your apartment,” he said matter of factly. “So does Cas.”

“Vaguely concerning, but I’ll allow it, since you’re not trying to rob me. Only tempting me with the vices of gambling.”

Kevin looked delighted at the retort. “Aha! So you do have a cutting edge humour. I’m winning 5 bucks over that from Jack.”

You rolled your eyes and walked into your bedroom, finding your drawstring pants and pulling them on.

“If it makes you feel any better, you now have a key to our apartment also as well as Cas’s.” Kevin jerked his head towards the kitchen counter where a new pair of brass keys shone in the light. “On this floor, we all like to keep the keys handy in case of emergencies.”

He plopped down on the sofa. “So about the rain…”

It looked like he really had broken into your apartment to ask for your bet.

“It’s September. It’s never going to rain,” you said.

“And you’re sure about that?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Should I be checking the weather forecast? And how much are we playing for?”

“You can check the forecast,” he said sagely, “It’s allowed. I have to warn you though that basing your vote off it has proven disadvantageous in the past. And we’re not playing for money.”

“Do I get to know who sided with what?”

“Not till you’ve put your bet in.”

“Dang it!”

He wiggled his eyebrows making you laugh. “Okay. I’m sure. I’ll go with what I said. It’ll not rain.”

“Oh, and Y/N-” he smiled evilly- “You should know that if it rains, you’re going to have to get wet in it! You have Pam, Cas and Jack siding with you so far.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of drenching in the rain. “It’s not going to rain, so I’m safe. What happens if I get it right?”

“The losing party has to be a company to judgy Judy and sun bath all of Sunday. Lotion will be provided.”

“This is ridiculous,” you laughed.

He stopped at the door. “Only when you lose.”

You spent the weekend catching up on your reading and familiarising yourself with the syllabus. When that was done, you set to work on your assignments… and when that was done, too, there were always job applications. Sustenance was unfortunately a necessity.

Come Sunday evening, Meg dragged you to the downstairs to the get together. It surprised you just how much everyone liked having you around, especially since you contributed absolutely nothing to the conversations. Pam pulled an accurate impression of the undergrads on the second floor and everyone laughed. 

It was a homely feeling.

************

Sam was already ready and going through the papers on his desk when you entered the lecture hall. He did not look up from them as the class slowly filled up. You didn’t necessarily make it a point to sit with Madison but somehow for most Civil Procedure classes she happened to sit next to you. You liked her well enough, however those girls who came with her said such awful things sometimes that it made you wish you were anywhere but around them.

Today Madison came in before any of the girls and took her seat next to you. 

“Hi,” she said, drawing her laptop out.

“Hey!” You smiled at her.

“Thanks for sitting besides me,” Madison said. “Having you around makes me feel so calm, and helps me concentrate.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” she said, then smiled apologetically. “You know how the girls are… they’re always so jittery and gossiping. But you… you just have such a steady energy around you.”

Strange. To you, it didn’t feel like you had energy at all.

“You know what I mean, right?” Madison said. “I feel like I can tell you anything, share things with you and you won’t judge me or tell on me. I feel like you wouldn’t turn me away if I ever asked for your help. You are just such a nice person.”

“Madison…” you said, touched. 

She shook her head. “You can just call me Maddie, if you like.”

She wasn’t necessarily right about you being a ‘nice person,’ but you certainly wouldn’t judge her… you of all people after everything you had done. And when it came to helping out another, it was just the decent thing to do, especially for someone you called a friend. It didn’t make you a nice person. It just made Madison’s other friends not so good at friendship.

“Alright then, Maddie,” you smiled. “We shall sit next to each other for as long as you want.”

Madison beamed. Not her usual girly laugh, instead a smile that reached her eyes in all their seriousness. You wondered what sorrow she’d had to live through. 

“Maddie!” Rebecca came up from behind and sat next to Madison. “I missed you over the weekend. Oh, we’re sitting with Y/N again?”

“Yes,” said Madison too sweetly. “She’s my friend. Try not to steal her answers though, Becca.”

Behind her Lacey giggled.

You had to cover your face, too, to hide the grin.

Sam called the class to attention, smiling at everyone. It was breathtaking and painful in equal parts.

“Before we begin,” he said, “It’s been brought to my attention that I’m the only one who hasn’t set you guys an assignment. We can’t have that happening now, can we?”

There were a few groans, and Sam gave everyone a teasing look. “It’s not something that’ll take up a lot of your time. I’m not setting you an essay, just a 500 word brief. Before we get into that, I need to know you guys better. Everyone who has a pre-law please raise your hands. About fifteen to twenty percent of the class raised their hands. 

“Impressive,” Sam said. “Sociology, political science or any other law allied field?”

Majority of the remaining class raised their hands.

“And how many of you guys have worked in any capacity in law fields? Have actual experience?”

About ten to twelve people raised their hands. Slowly, you put your arm up as well.

At the edge of your vision you sensed Rebecca glaring at your hand. 

Sam sweeped his gaze over the class. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to be one of the crowd, because for a split second the startlement was clear on his face. He blinked twice, then looked away.

Split second of eye contact was enough to make you weak in your knees. Bring back a flood of memories, of having looked so deeply in those very eyes. 

He paused, cleared his throat and said, “I suppose this will be somewhat easier for those of you who have a pre-law background. For your assignment, you have to pick the most dicey, interesting or unusual Civil suit or petition you can find, and describe in brief how the written content and consequent presentation saved or screwed over the case. Go crazy with the type of case, as long as it’s civil and filed in the states. The law library has a complete and updated archive of all judgements and petitions in public domain for your reference.”

Giving you a stink eye, Rebecca raised her hand.

“Yes… Miss Staten, is it?”

“Yes, Rebecca Staten,” she said, practically gloating. “Do you specialise in Civil cases? And if so, can we pick one of yours?”

Sam’s eyebrows twitched a little and he brushed at the hair near his ear. To anyone else it would have meant nothing, barely noticeable. You knew better. It was discomfort. He was uncomfortable with the question. Seeing him, you felt an instinctive spark of annoyance towards Rebecca, which was absolutely ridiculous. It wasn’t your place to feel anything on Sam’s behalf. Not anymore.

“I don’t specialise in Civil… I do predominantly take them up, but that’s certainly not it. In fact, my most distinctive case isn’t even a Civil one,” he said. “Rest assured, if you want to make the most of the assignment, none of my cases would be of any help.”

“Makes me wonder…” Madison whispered next to you.

“You have until Wednesday to hand it in. It does not have to be technical, so it shouldn’t take much time,” he announced. “Back to the class now. We’re working on Trial components and rules…”

After the classes for the day ended, Madison caught up with you.

“Where are you headed?” She asked.

“The library.”

“Oh, excellent, I was heading there, too,” she said happily.

“Where are the others?” It made you feel like a wretched person, but you didn’t think you could take anymore of those girls.

Madison wiped her brow. “They wanted to head out to San Francisco for the night.”

“But it’s a Monday,” you spoke unthinkingly.

She gave you a look which made it clear that she shared your opinion.

“I thought you’d want to research Mr. Winchester's assignment. Do you mind if I join?”

The thought of working with someone for once was actually pleasant, “Of course I don’t. It’ll be fun, Maddie.”

She smiled at your use of her nickname. “Alright then.”

The Robert Crown law library was smaller and very modern in comparison to the Green library. It was all white walls, beige minimalist furniture and compactly placed bookshelves next to rows of computers. The appearance didn’t fool you in the least. You knew from having read and well, from having heard about it so many times from Sam that it was extensively stocked with information on thousands and millions of suits, petitions, litigations and what not. It had every possible book that you would want to refer to while building a case, by-laws, constitutional laws and so many other rules and regulations. 

The two of you picked adjacent computers and began sifting through the cases. The sorting system itself boggled your mind, let alone the data within. Soon you were lost in a sea of cases, just reading through them instead of researching for the assignment. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” muttered Madison besides you.

“Mmmm?” You asked absentmindedly.

When she didn’t reply, you looked over. Madison was staring intently at the screen.

“You know when Mr. Winchester was talking to Becca earlier?” She asked, without taking her eyes off the screen.

“Yeah?” You remembered vividly.

“He mentioned how his most distinctive case wasn’t a Civil one?” Her voice was low. “I got curious and looked it up.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

“Turns out he was downplaying it. This looks like a huge deal.”

Despite everything, you gave your swivel chair a push and moved next to Madison.

“What’s it about?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“It’s complicated and over two years old. Looks like it’s a matter of twin homicides in conjunction with multiple matters of abuse and a custody battle. It says he was working with Simpsons and associates in LA back then.”

“LA?” 

“Yeah.” She added guiltily, “I pulled out his public profile in accordance with his registration with the Bar Council. It has his whole bio-data.”

You knew you shouldn’t look. God, you knew it and you looked anyway.

“Stanford… Yale… and there’s a small town in Kansas where he was registered for a year. Then one year in NY, Four in LA, and two at Griswold Acton.”

New York… So he did go there. The thought pierced you like a shard. 

“I think... I think I’m gonna go back now,” you said quietly.

Madison looked at the watch. “Shit! It’s already past 7! Yeah, we should hurry.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Madison said, as you walked along the curb, “The weekend after this one, I’m throwing a party at this bar a few blocks away. And I really want you to come.”

“Is it your birthday?” You asked, feeling awful that you were asking after being invited.

“Yes, the next day. I’m doing this the night before so we’ll be together when the clock hits 12. You’ll come, right?”

You hesitated.

“It’ll be fun, really. I know the girls can be a bit too much sometimes, but there’ll be other people.”

That was even worse.

“It would mean a lot to me,” she insisted.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “Only if you let me get you a present.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, but then gave in. “Okay.” She threw her arms around you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wandered back to the apartment, racking your brain about what to put in the assignment. Nothing came to you.

Weird dreams interrupted your sleep that night, homicides and custody disputes. You kept yelling that the child was yours and like in the old 70’s movies, the judge banged the gavel calling for order.... Then, the scene shifted. You were trapped, your hands and shoulders bound. There was glass around you. Shards of glass, blood and icy water, numbing your senses, dulling your pain as it soaked your hair and drenched you to the bone. You wanted to scream for help, but cold also made you sleepy. You wanted to ask the judge… tell him to hand you the child, but there was no judge… just cold and hammering rain.

You woke up chilly. Drenched in sweat, but still very cold. It was just a dream… not reality. Just a dream. You rolled over and sleep found you again.

“You look like you came back from the dead,” Meredith said first thing next morning. 

You ignored her and took your seat in the row ahead of her. Unfortunately, that put you right next to Brad. 

Sam was on time as usual. He ran through his papers as the tech set up his laptop.

“He’s alright, really,” Brad said, making conversation. “Girls seem to swoon on him because he is the youngest faculty member and all. But he’s just average as a teacher.”

“I think he is fantastic,” you said, jutting your chin out, voice unnecessarily sharp.

Brad raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t like the other girls.”

“If by other girls you mean the ones that worked hard to get into Stanford and know how to appreciate a good teacher, then I’m exactly like the other girls.”

“Ooohhh, feisty,” he murmured under his breath. Sam called the class to attention and you chose to ignore Brad completely for the rest of the lecture, then made sure that you sat by yourself for the rest of the day.

The deadline for the assignment was tomorrow and you had no clue what you were handing in. That did not help with the anxiety.

On your way to the library, you dropped by at the Student’s employment office- without much hope- to check on that application anyway.

The girl at the desk ran through your profile once again as you gave her your name.

“Y/N,” she said in a monotone of someone who was bored out of their mind. “I actually have a hit for you here. I should warn you, it's a tough gig-”

“Tell me!” You interrupted before she had even finished the sentence. 

She peered at you over her spectacles. “The odd hours librarian’s post at the Law library. You had an upper hand over the other applicants because you are a law student and live close by. You also have experience as a librarian before.”

“Yes, I want it!”

“Chillax, woman,” said the girl. “It’s an odd hours job. That means the night shift on three days and alternate weekends. It’s an 8 hour shift and 5 shifts per week. Twenty an hour.”

“Done.” You thought back to last night. It wasn’t like you were getting any good sleep anyway. Might as well make money out of it. 

The girl shrugged. “It’s yours then. You start this weekend. I’ll hook you up with the other librarian peeps. They’ll let you know about your shift.”

You thanked her and happily walked back towards the Law building. At least one thing seemed to have worked in your favour. One minute you were walking ahead, next you were on the floor, all your things knocked out of your hands. 

“I’m so sorry.”

You looked up into stunning hazel eyes. They were as familiar even now as if you had looked into them every day of your life.

Sam froze, having just realised that he had walked into you.

Up close he looked tired and definitely a lot thinner.

“Oh, God. Y/N!” Madison, who happened to walk by, reached out to help you to your feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Numbly, you nodded. 

Sam methodically picked up your books and wallet, stacked them in a pile and handed it to you.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, quietly, eyes trained on the books in your hand.

You shook your head.

He acknowledged it with a jerk of chin and left without another word.

“What an ass!” Brad muttered coming up from behind. “First he knocked her down and then didn’t even apologise. I don’t get why y’all idealise him so much.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lacey said. “Y/N was the one who walked into him without looking. Ruined his perfectly good suit with her chapstick smear. And he did apologise!”

You excused yourself as quickly as you could, still feeling the tingle on your skin where his fingers had lightly brushed yours, senses still filled with the smell of his cologne. Even after all these years it was still the same. 

You had bought that cologne for him. He still used the same one.

Tears pressed your eyes as you entered the vine covered gates of the apartment. 

At the lift, you ran into Cas.

He looked pleasantly surprised at the sight of you, which was weird because you both did stay on the same floor.

“You look… are you okay?” His voice was coloured with concern.

You had to stop running into people when you were upset. Had to.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you tried to assure him. “I was heading home.”

“Yes, home,” Cas sighed, absentmindedly. “I miss having a roommate sometimes. Conversation is what makes it home.”

You had reached your door.

“Hey,” you said, making an impulse decision. “Do you maybe wanna come in for a mug of coffee or something?”

He looked startled again. “Yeah, I would love that.”

Meg wasn’t home. You weren’t surprised. 

“Please make yourself at home,” you waved towards the sofa. “I’ll be right back.”

You quickly dumped your bag and books on your bed, swapped the shoes for your comfortable slippers, tied your hair in a bun at the top of your head and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Cas was in the balcony, looking at the front yard. 

“You guys have a fantastic view from here,” he said morosely. You felt bad for him. His was the only flat on the floor that didn’t have the yard facing balcony.

“Why didn’t you ask Pam to sublet you this one after the last tenant moved out?”

He shrugged. “I don’t spend much time at the apartment anyway with the night shifts and emergencies at the hospital. Besides, mine’s a small one and I don’t have a roommate, so it's easy to clean after.”

“Is it too much work at the hospital?” You asked sympathetically, then realised how dumb the question was. It was a hospital. Of course there was too much work.

“Sometimes,” he answered truthfully. “The ER duty is dreadful because a lot of times you just can’t save a life. OPD days are so much better.”

You nodded thoughtfully.

“What about you? How’s law school treating you?”

You told him about how everyone was just so different from you. They had social circles and Monday night outs and were worried about internships for status as opposed to just wanting a job or actually learning. You told him about how there always seemed to be an ulterior motive to everything that they said or did.

It sounded like a rant even to your own ears, but God it felt good to unload. Cas was probably bored out of his mind. You let it all out anyway.

“And then- then they judge people based on their appearance. Just because I wear a sweater all the time doesn’t make me drab. I’m just really sensitive to cold. Just because a professor is young and good looking, doesn’t by default make him a bad teacher.”

You had to stop to take a breath, and were immediately possessed by a sense of embarrassment. Why were you putting this on a very tired Cas?

Cas, however, looked deep in thought. “Hmmm…” he said. “Correct me if I’m wrong. You don’t have any immediate family, do you?”

You shook your head. “I have no family left.”

Cas didn’t ask you the why or how come.

“Maybe that’s why,” he said, face resting on his palms. “You don’t live for anyone but yourself. You don’t have to put on a show like them.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that you are being motivated by a desire to learn, to become a better person and to help the world become a better place. Most people are motivated by power, or money or just wanting to create an impression. No wonder you don’t fit in, Y/N. You stand out.”

You stared at him, stunned.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Cas put his hands up. “I mean it. Besides, you have us. I can tell for a fact that people here really like you. So who cares about the rich ass kids? They’re the reason lawyers got a bad rep.”

You giggled.

Then you remembered the coffee pot. “Oh, damn!”

Cas chuckled as you went to grab the pot and fix two coffees.

“What’re you thinking about the weekend?” Cas called from the balcony, “I think we’re on the losing side.”

“It’s September. It’s not raining.”

“That’s what I said last week. It rained.”

“Oh, no!”

Cas took a mug from your hands. “Thank you.”

He took a sip. “The forecast is never useful. Wish we could sue them for it.”

You put your mug down.

“CAS! You are a genius!”

“What?”

You rushed to your room to grab your computer, then settled on a chair, quickly typing the words out.

“I knew it!” You shouted in vindication. “I remembered reading about it.”

“Errr….” Cas hovered over you utterly confused. You turned the laptop so he could see.

“Look! In 1988 a woman did sue Chicago’s famous newsman over a wrong weather forecast!”

“Are you serious?” He put the mug down and sat next to you, reading the article.

You pointed at it excitedly. “See that’s what it says.”

“They dismissed her, right?”

You grinned at him. “She settled outside for a sum of half a million.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cas whistled.

“Oh, this is perfect for the assignment! Thanks, Cas.”

“My pleasure,” he said, somewhat bemused.

He read over your shoulder as you wrote the brief extract, pointing out how it was a trend setter of it’s kind when it came to dragging news media to the court. The woman had missed a flight which was cancelled as a precaution to the bad forecast and viola! It never rained. 

“This look good?”

“It’s perfect!” Cas said.

You dropped the file into the mailbox, then paused when it came to actually typing a mail, fingers trembling.

This was Sam you were writing to. He used to be your Sam.

You did it nevertheless. You typed his id and the thumbnail of his profile appeared. He wore a tan turtleneck and was smiling at the person holding the camera. Who could it have been?

“Is that the young professor you were talking about?” Cas asked offhandedly. 

“Mhmm.”

“I can see why he gets that sort of attention,” Cas chuckled.

You saw it, too.

Sighing internally, you hit the send button.

Cas high-fived you. “There are very few things in life as satisfying as a last minute submission,” he said, then looked at the watch. “I better go now, I’ve got an early morning shift.”

“Oh, wait for a bit,” you said, rushing to the kitchen counter, and pulling out a jar of cookies. “Here, have one. I got a job today, as a librarian. My Gran used to say that one should always offer sweets while  breaking a good news.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Cas took a bite of the crumbly choco-chip cookie and moaned. “Oh, these are wonderful!”

You thrust the entire jar in his hand. “Here, take them all. I just like baking them…. not much of an eater.”

“You made these?” His voice was incredulous and you blushed. 

“My Gran used to run a small bakery from our house. I grew up watching her do what she loved the most. The smell of baking comforts me… and let’s just say I needed to be comforted lately.”

“Well, these are excellent!” He didn’t even resist for the sake of formality and took the jar.

You walked him to the door. “Hey, Cas. Thank you for tonight.”

It had been the first time since you had moved to the city that you actually felt like you had talked because you wanted to, shared what you really felt. It was the first time you had truly rejoiced that the bubble was gone and you could be happy in the company of another person.

Cas didn’t ask why you had thanked him. Oddly, he understood.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, where it lay heavy and comforting. “I had a great evening. If you ever want to share anything or you know bake too many cookies, I should tell you that I live right next door.”

You giggled. Cas tightened his grip on your shoulder for a moment and let go. He waved at you once more before closing his door. 

Later, as you lay in bed, you thought through the day and just how your emotions were all over the place. One minute you were distraught and the next, excited. The way that Brad annoyed you, no one ever had except for that one idiot in high school. You were used to having people rely on you. Even when you worked as a paralegal all through last year, your boss had been happy with your work, your colleagues were polite… but no one had remotely elicited any sort of reaction from you. It had been the same through all those years of pre-law. It hadn’t ever bothered you that you weren’t a part of the group. In fact, now that you looked back on the years, everything seemed so hazy, like you were looking at your memories through a heavily fogged glass.

In fact, that one year spent with Sam was clearer than the seven years spent after. You could recall every moment lived with him as if it was merely yesterday. And yet things that had happened a month back felt like they had happened ages ago. 

Deep down, you knew the reason for it. With Sam you had been happy… happier than you had ever been before. It was the last time you had been happy, too. So did that mean you were beginning to be happy again now? 

Re-learning it one step at a time?

You rolled, mulling the thought over in your head and fell asleep dreamlessly after a very long time.

************

“Oh, the sweet release of Friday!” Madison moaned. “I can’t wait to fall into bed. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“I actually have plans for tonight,” you told her, “So I’m not expecting to see the bed anytime soon.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t show up to Brad’s party, but you have plans tonight?” Lacey wiggled her eyebrows. “Is there a special someone?”

It was Jack. You were going bowling with Jack and whoever else was free. You had protested the plan by explaining how awful you were at bowling. It had only delighted Jack more. Apparently, he sucked, too, but he really wanted to impress the girl who worked at the bowling alley. If he came off looking better than you, maybe, just maybe he’d have a chance with her. It seemed like a very very unlikely event, but you didn’t have the heart of telling him that. In fact, to your surprise you found yourself really excited for the evening.

“Just a friend.” You shrugged.

Lacey looked like she was about to press her point when Madison interrupted her.

“Oh, did any of you hear from Mr. Winchester? Regarding the assignment?” 

You threw her a grateful look for changing the topic.

Madison had received a reply on Wednesday evening with a positive critique and so had Rebecca along with a few more people. 

It was all Rebecca needed to go on and on about the assignment, and how Mr. Winchester loved her work and remembered her name. You were a little disappointed that you never received a critique… but were you even expecting a reply from Sam? You had accepted that he was going to ignore you.

Sam did not mention the assignment at all. He made a few timed jokes about how everyone hated the last class on a Friday including him and he’d make it a point to let everyone off fifteen minutes early. The lecture was as captivating as usual. He spoke with such passion for law that even the most monotonous topics became suddenly interesting. You wouldn’t have cared if he had even extended the class, but he kept his promise and ended it about ten minutes early.

“Before you all leave for a much deserved weekend,” he said, “I want to congratulate you all on an assignment well done. Most of you had the most interesting topics picked out for the note. It certainly made for entertaining reads. I was hoping at least someone would bring up the several instances when Red bull got sued and I wasn’t disappointed. Four of you did. I’m sorry I couldn’t reply back to all of the emails, but there was a particular one that I’d like to bring to your attention. A 1988 lawsuit turned to a petition after a woman sued Chicago’s famous newsman Gary Holster over the wrong forecast.”

You could barely believe your ears.

“Mary Johnson was flying from Domestic Chicago to LAX along with 122 other passengers. And after predictions of a heavy storm, the flight was cancelled. Of course. it barely even rained. As a result, Miss Johnson lost a prospective job and the opportunity at a better life. What started as a snowflake of a suit, snowballed into a petition with over 76 plaintiffs after a newspaper published her story tagging it as ridiculous. The other passengers reached out to her, expanding into a full-fledged writ.”

He paused and took a deep breath. “All of you should take a look at the case as well as Ms. Y/L/N’s note. It was a particularly smart choice to pick this case because I had asked for weird and unusual… and the exact oddity of the case was what made it a national sensation in the late 80’s.”

Sam looked up, with precision, straight into your eyes. “Good job, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. The corner of your eyes stung.

Behind you Lacey muttered, “Oh, look, yours isn’t the only name he remembers, Ms. Staten.”

“Have a great weekend!” Sam wished before leaving the room. The class immediately broke into a babble and some people turned to spot you in the crowd. A few of them even came up to you to congratulate on an assignment well done. You promised to forward the assignment to the class group so everyone could see it. As it turned, out a couple of people stayed in the building next to yours. 

While leaving, you did notice Rebecca staring at you with ill concealed dislike and something close to suspicion.

“Y/N!” Jack was waiting for you in the front yard, which was officially nicknamed the meadow. He was sitting next to Judgy Judy with a satchel slung across his body.

“Hey, I’m going to run upstairs and drop my bag.” 

He sprang up from the parapet and eased your bag off your shoulder. “Don’t bother. We can just drop it off at Pam’s. Watch.”

He slid the shutter to her ground floor flat window and with extreme expertise pushed your big inside from in between to bars.

“Genius!” You lauded.

Jack grinned, “Pam is home and sleeping. By the time we get back, she’ll be up, ready to handover the bag.”

“Truly epic.”

“You guys don’t have too much fun without me!” Kevin yelled from his balcony where he was sitting with Cas. He looked bummed.

“What’s up with him?” 

Jack waved at Kevin and said loudly enough for him to hear, “Nothing. Kev’s just pissed that the weather is clear.”

Kevin cursed. “That dumb reported said it was going to rain. I’m gonna sue her!”

Next to him, Cas gave you a pointed look and winked. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Jack offered you his arm and you took it, feeling a strange happiness settle within you. Hand in hand you walked out. For the first time in years you didn’t know what to expect of tomorrow or even the next moment. The feeling was worth living for.

*******************************

A/N 2: Heads up! There’s still sometime before we find out what exactly went down between these two, but in the present timeline, it’s mostly just uphill from now. 

I had a very, very hard day, today. Hoping it will be uphill for me, too, from now on :)

PLEASE let me know what you think of this story?

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[a-funny-little-sunflower]

Playing in the snow with Ghastly Bespoke at Christmas time.

You and Ghastly have been dating for about 9 months and he finally decided to allow the dead men to meet you. You and Ghastly travel up to a resort in the woods for Christmas. Everyone is excited by the snow, so you go out to play and a snowball fight ends up breaking out. You and Ghastly fall asleep in the snow while being cuddled up to each other and you somehow manage to fall asleep.] grá mo chroí – means My beloved in Irish

It was a beautiful December day in Ireland. The snow was fluttering all around the windows of the car and the freshly fallen snow was only broken by the wheels of the black Bentley as it rushed through the snowy forest. You were on your way to a cabin resort that had been rented out for you, Ghastly and the rest of the Dead Men. You were so happy to be celebrating Christmas with Ghastly. It would be your first Christmas together and you couldn’t wait to meet the rest of the dead men. You had only been introduced to one other dead man so far and that was the suave skeleton detective currently driving you to this resort, Skulduggery Pleasant

It was a funny story of how you and Skulduggery had first met. You and Ghastly had just started dating and Skulduggery decided to see what kind of person you were. You had just gotten home from working in your art studio and as you walked in the front door, you spotted a well-dressed skeleton sitting on your favourite chair.

After staring at it for about a minute, you walked over to it and began inspecting it. Especially the suit. As you were about to touch the hat the skeleton wore, the skeleton suddenly spoke.“Don’t touch the hat.” You jumped back in surprise and let out a small squeal.

The skeleton seemed to be unfazed by this and continued. “Skulduggery Pleasant. I’m here to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Ghastly Bespoke.” You nodded dimly and shakily sat down opposite him. It took you a moment to reply, but you managed. “A-ask anything you like.”

After about an hour of talking to Skulduggery, you started warming up to him. He spoke kindly to you and you relaxed as the conversation continued. Eventually, Ghastly arrived for the date you had arranged. As soon as he laid eyes on Skulduggery, he looked like he was about to punch him. “Skulduggery…” Ghastly growled. A beat of silence passed as Skulduggery’s gaze locked with Ghastly’s before he jumped out the window, leaving you and Ghastly to your date.

After this incident, a glorious friendship had blossomed between you and Skulduggery, hence the reason you were sitting in his car. You were pulled from your reminiscing by someone gently touching your shoulder. You turned your head to see your beloved Ghastly staring at you. “Hey, we’re almost there, how are you feeling?” You smiled over at him and squeezed his hand. “I’m fine Ghastly, just a bit nervous about meeting the rest of the dead men I suppose,” you said.“You have no need be nervous, everyone will love you”. Ghastly said. Skulduggery decided to pitch into the conversation with his usual wit.

“Exactly. I like you so that means that you are a woman of a high standard.” You laughed at his comment before once again staring outside to the snow fluttering all around you. “We’re about 20 minutes away from the resort, so it won’t be long until you can stretch your legs. “You nodded in silent confirmation before continuing to stare mindlessly out the window. Your mindless stare became intrigued when the resort came into view. It was large, and its roof was covered in snow. Smoke was billowing out of its chimney and as you got out of the car, you could see the distinct outline of a Christmas tree through the window. You felt Ghastly put his arm around your waist as he led you towards the resort.

As you walked through the door of the resort, the smell of burning Christmas cookies filled your nostrils and a few seconds later the insistent beep of a fire alarm sounded from the kitchen. You and Ghastly shared an amused look before a man with well-toned muscles sprinted out of the kitchen waving a towel over his head like a maniac. “Good God Vex can’t you make one meal at Christmas time without burning it?” Ghastly said in a teasing tone.

The man known as Vex had his back to you as he continued waving the towel and soon enough, the smoke disappeared from the room. After the atmosphere was cleared, Dexter turned to you two. His eyes landed on Ghastly first and he had an annoyed expression on his face. However, when his eyes landed on you, his face had surprise and confusion written all over it. “Who the hell is that?” he asked. A tall man with a knowing look in his eyes entered the room “That is Ghastly girlfriend, so I wouldn’t be too rude to her in case you scare her off.” The man walked towards you and offered his hand. “Sacrean Rue, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a smile. Skulduggery voice echoed from behind you. “If Vex isn’t allowed to use rudeness to drive her away, you aren’t to flirt with her, that’ll have her sprinting away in fear.” Sacrean rolled his eyes and said, “I know she’s already spoken for, even if I tried to flirt with her, I’m pretty sure Ghastly here would have my teeth knocked out before I could even finish a decent pick-up line.”

“None of your pickup lines are decent, Sacrean.” Ghastly quipped before turning to you. “Sweetheart you wanna go get settled in now? If you unpack fast enough, I’m fairly sure we could get out to the snow before it gets dark.” That brought a smile to your face and as you turned to retrieve your bags, you saw that Skulduggery was already holding them out for you. You take your bags from him and he says, “You’re upstairs, at the end of the hall, call if you need help. Ghastly and I are going to intimidate the rest of the group into not bugging you with questions about your relationship.”

You look at Ghastly with raised eyebrows, but his only reply is a shrug of his muscular shoulders before walking off, Skulduggery at his heels. Vex lets out a sigh. “The worst thing is that they aren’t even joking about the whole intimidation thing.” He shakes his head. “C’mon Sacrean, you’re gonna help me try to salvage whatever is left of those Christmas cookies.” Sacrean gives him an exasperated look before saying, “The only thing left of those cookies is ash”. Regardless, he still follows Vex into the kitchen.

You turn to your bags. Although you did try to pack light, you know you’re gonna have trouble getting them up the stairs. Against your better judgement, you decide to try and carry everything up the stairs in the one go, and by some Christmas miracle, you managed to get to the top of the staircase without collapsing. You let your bags fall from your shoulders before moaning with pain.

That was difficult.

“Are you alright? You turn your head to the soft voice coming from your left. It’s a tall man with dark hair and you must admit, he looks like a mixture between a funeral director and a vampire. You give him a tired but kind smile. “I’m alright, these bags are just a tad too heavy for me, but I only have to get to the bottom of the hall so no point complaining. The man glances at your luggage before striding toward you and lifting your bags with practised ease. “Allow me to help you.” You are surprised by this sudden act of hospitality but none the less you thank him and begin walking toward your room. “So does the staircase maiden have a name?” He asks. “Oh! Where are my manners, I’m Y/N.” He nods before saying, “Anton Shudder. I believe you are Ghastly’s partner then?”

You give a little nod before arriving at your door. “This is me! Thank you so much for your help, Anton.” You smile at him before taking your bags from him and stepping inside your room, remembering to half-close the door behind you for privacy. The room had a comfy looking king size bed with curtains around it, a desk, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, but the most elegant thing in the room would have to be the fireplace. It was made expertly from marble and it was just begging to be lit. You were too entranced in inspecting the room that you didn’t notice Ghastly stealthily enter. You only noticed him when he wrapped his arms wrapped around your waist and put his face was in the crook of your neck.

“Enjoying yourself darling?” His sudden appearance had made you jump and the bag in your hand dropped to the floor on instinct. “Easy on sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly. You turned around to face him and couldn’t help smiling when you saw his face and his soft expression. “You could never scare me.” You said as you wrapped your arms lovingly around his neck. This made him laugh before saying, “Well clearly I just did.” You smiled at him as you pressed your foreheads together. You stayed like that for a while. Holding each other. Staring into each other’s eyes. It was as if time had stopped. However, this peacefulness was interrupted by a banging at the door and a voice shouting, “Where’s the lucky lady!?” Ghastly’s reaction to this was to shut his eyes and groan in annoyance. “Go away, Larkin. It’s not the time.” The voice replied, “Why? Are you doing the mattress mambo? If you are, make yourselves decent cause I’m coming in!”

The door burst open and two men burst in. One man had beautiful golden eyes and the other had a large comedic smile on his face. The man with the cheeky grin stepped forward to introduce himself first. He offered his hand, saying “Hello, I’m Larkin!” You decided to take the man’s offer of a handshake and when you did, the sound of a whoopee cushion deflating filled the room, and Larkin's smile grew impossibly wider. “Whoopee cushion in the hand trick never gets old.” The man second man rolled his eyes at Larkin's behaviour, before stepping forward to introduce himself. He took your hand and kissed it. “Erskine Ravel my dear. A pleasure to finally meet you.” He said as he glanced up at you with those gorgeous golden eyes. From behind you, you heard Ghastly growl and you felt him put his arms around you from behind.

“Ravel, I thought we already had a conversation about this behaviour?” Ghastly said through gritted teeth. Ravel’s eyes met Ghastly’s and there was a standoff for a few moments. A standoff that Ghastly won. Ravel shook his head and said, “No need to turn all alpha male on me Ghastly, I’m dating Hopeless remember?” This didn’t convince Ghastly of anything and he pulled you to his chest.

“Hasn’t stopped you from flirting with every living thing to cross your path though has it?” Ghastly said his tone challenging. You sensed a fight coming and it seemed that Larkin did too because he was quick to jump into action. Larkin took hold of Ravel’s shoulder and began leading him out of the room. “It was nice seeing you two. Dinner will be in about an hour.” After Larkin managed to drag Ravel out, he shut the door and all that could be heard was the sound of retreating footsteps.

You turned to look at Ghastly whose muscles were still tense from bracing himself to throw a punch. You took his hand and turned his face to look at you. “Hey there gorgeous, we’ve got an hour to spare before dinner, what do you fancy doing?” He looked at you for a moment before a playful grin appeared on his face. “To be honest, I’m exhausted, and I fancy a nap.” A soft smile appeared on your face before saying, “Fancy some kisses with that? It would be a reward for not punching Ravel in the face.” He pretended to think about your offer for a few seconds before saying “That seems fair enough, and if you were wondering, I would have aimed to break his jaw.” You couldn’t help but laugh at this as you pulled him toward the bed. You kicked off your shoes and got under the covers for cuddles and kisses.

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

You were roused from sleep by Skulduggery softly shaking your shoulder. You rubbed your eyes and attempted to stretch but couldn’t because of Ghastly’s muscular arms keeping you in an embrace. When you looked up at Skulduggery questioningly it prompted him to say, “Dinner’s ready.” You nodded in confirmation and watched him walk out of the room. You turned to Ghastly to wake him up but hesitated. You longed to just lay here with him all day, but you knew that he would be disappointed if he wasted the day sleeping. To soften the blow of having to end cuddle time, you decided to give him his favourite wake up call. Butterfly kisses. You leaned forward and started placing soft kisses on his eyes. Eventually, he was roused from sleep and when he saw your face, he gave you a soft sleepy smile. He stared into your eyes for a moment before saying, “What did I deserve to get such a wonderful wake-up call?” You couldn’t help but laugh at him, every time you woke up beside him, he looked at you like you could create galaxies with a wave of your hand.

“Dinner’s ready my dear, we have to get up.” Ghastly groaned at this before rolling onto his side and put his arm over his face. “Do we have to? I just wanna stay here and sleep.” You rolled your eyes at him and decided that maybe you could tempt him. “Well if you don’t wanna come down I guess that I’ll have to play in the snow all by myself.” This caused him to take his arm away from his face and turn to you. “You wouldn’t dare…” A small smile appeared on your face. “Oh, but I would my dear.”Ghastly let out a breathy laugh before saying, “Alright, alright, I’m up.” He stretched out fully before pushing himself off the bed. You watched him for a moment before getting up and combing your hands through your hair in an attempt to make it look it presentable. You grabbed Ghastly’s hand and started walking down to the kitchen.

When you got downstairs, you were met with Sacrean eating mince pies in the living room while scrolling on his phone. You give a little knock to the doorframe to let him know about your presence and he looks at you like a deer in the headlights. He gulps down the rest of his pie and lets out a guilty chuckle. “Eh…. Nice nap…?” Ghastly shook his head at him and as he opened his mouth to speak, a snowball hit him right at the back of his head. You both span around to see Skulduggery standing there. There was a silent standoff for a moment before Skulduggery turned on his heel and sprinted out of the front door.

There was a sudden flurry of movement as Ghastly tore outside after Skulduggery and Sacrean let out what sounded like a war cry before darting outside after them. The war cries that Sacrean had uttered had everyone in the house responding to it because, in a matter of moments, every dead man was hastily pulling on coats and darting outside. You stood there in a state of shock and awe at the pure speed at which the dead men had run out of the house. You could hear the sounds of an all-out snowball war being waged. You could see snowballs being launched at fantastic speeds, then you heard it. Ghastly’s voice. “Y/N! Get out here! They’re pairing up out here and I need to have the best-looking partner!” Vex’s voice rang out, “Ghastly I don’t want to be your partner!” A chorus of laughter rang out as you sprinted out of the resort to meet Ghastly.

As soon as you got outside, you saw a scene of utter chaos unfolding. It seemed that people were already starting to form alliances. Larkin, Hopeless and Ravel were all on the one team, Anton, Vex and Sacrean were on another and Skulduggery was standing in the middle of it all. He looked to be on a team that consisted only of himself. But…. Where was Ghastly…? Out of nowhere, you felt someone grab your waist and haul your body backwords. At first, you thrashed and fought out of instinct but when you managed to crane your neck enough to see the face of whoever it was that had grabbed you, you saw a familiar scarred face. You locked eyes and you immediately relaxed in his arms. You allowed him to drag you back as you watched the chaotic scene of the snowball war unfold. Eventually, you felt Ghastly to bring you both to a stop and he pulled you behind a wall of snow that he had created. You both crouched behind it and began to create a game plan.

After a few minutes, you had a plan of attack. Ghastly run out and use his elemental power to manipulate the snow and air around him, and you would use your shield discipline to protect him. You pressed a kiss to his lips for a moment before he sprinted out and raised utter havoc, you kept your shield eyes on him as he caused snowballs to destroy every other dead man. Ravel was the first to get a face full. Probably revenge from earlier. The next two to go were Hopeless and Sacrean. Hopeless’ was thrown onto his back after Ghastly manipulated the snow from underneath him.

Ghastly’s next target was Larkin, who sensed he was next, and shape-shifted into you and begged for mercy. Ghastly took great pleasure in pelting him with snow. The remaining dead men – Anton and Vex- were doing their best to defend themselves but your shield held strong. Ghastly showed an evil grin and made a wave of snowballs appear behind. The look of utter terror on their faces would have you howling with laughter for weeks. You were mentally celebrating Ghastly’s victory before you realised. Someone was missing…. Skulduggery…

“Don’t move an inch.” Said a silky voice from behind you. You shuddered involuntarily. “Take down the shield protecting him…or else.” It was quite scary to hear Skulduggery talk like this, but you refused to show fear. “Never. This is my grá mo chroí we’re talking about.” There was a deadly silence between the pair of you as you stared out across the snowy ground. “If that’s how it is…” Suddenly his voice turned from a silky whisper to a powerful booming tone that could rival thunder. “GHASTLY BESPOKE OF THE DEAD MEN” He spoke as if he were addressing an enemy on the battlefield. “SURRENDER NOW AND I MAY STILL GRANT MERCY UPON THOSE WHO ARE AT MY FEET” Ghastly looked confused, what did he mean, at his feet? He was nowhere near him, then it hit him. You. He caught sight of your hair, just barely in view behind the snow barrier.

“Let her go Skulduggery!” Ghastly seemed to be leaning into this role of heroic knight about attempting to defeat the dark lord, and from how it seemed, you were the unwilling damsel in distress. “NOT UNTIL YOU SURRENDER! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE BEFORE SHE DIES!” Shouts of “Don’t do it!” and “He’s bluffing!”, were made by the dead men, you even thought you heard Larkin shout “Wouldn’t someone think of the children?” Skulduggery raised a gloved hand threateningly. “Last chance, your love or your life. Decide now.” You and Ghastly shared a look, and you could see in his eyes that he was readying himself for an attack, the last stand of a dead man. In a sudden flurry of movement, Ghastly lunged forward with his elemental discipline flaring and ready to protect you, but in that same moment, Skulduggery pressed down on the back of your neck and hit a pressure point.

This pressure on your neck caused your entire body to feel weak, and for the shield around Ghastly to cave in, leaving him without your protection. You desperately tried to warn him, but your voice had abandoned you, and there was stopping him or warning him of the incoming snowball from the left. You watch, almost in slow motion, as the snowball hit him square in the jaw, with enough force to knock him flat. For a moment, there was a shocked silence from everyone, before a chorus of empathetic groans echoed from the rest of the dead men. In all the excitement, Skulduggery had loosened his grip on you, and you immediately seized the moment and lunged for your fallen protector.

You turned him onto his back, placed your hands on his face, and began to tenderly rub your thumbs across his scarred cheeks. “Ghastly, my darling, are you alright?” You were genuinely concerned as the snowball had hit him with great force, and for a moment, you thought he had been too hard. But you were soon relieved of any worries when his eyelids fluttered open and you were greeted by his loving smile. “I’m just wondering now that you’re here.” You couldn’t help the loving smile from breaking out on your face, you could never stay angry at your love for long.

“Alright fellas let’s get inside and leave these love birds to themselves, I don’t wanna know what they do in their spare time.” There was a trickle of laughter that floated around in the air for a moment as the dead men made their way inside to the warm cabin, but neither you nor Ghastly made a move to join them. Instead, you flopped onto your back beside him and cuddled up against him, closing your eyes as you rest your head on his chest, and to your surprise, it was surprisingly comfortable. So comfortable, that you barely felt the first snowflakes descending from the sky onto your embracing forms as you drifted off to the land of dreams, with Ghastly not far behind. ---------------------- When you awoke once again for the second time that day, the sky was dark, the stars were shining and both you and Ghastly were still in an unmoving embrace, but now you were also enveloped by a thick coating of snow, so thick you could barely move, and the flurrying snowflakes all around made it difficult to see the cabin. As you turned your head, you saw that Ghastly was still sleeping. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t going to budge by his own accord unless you put a stop to this madness.

So, with a herculean effort, you managed to shove away the snow that had previously entrapped you, and although your entire body felt brittle and stiff, still you persevered. You managed to get onto your knees and get some leverage against the cold ground. You allowed yourself a moment to stare lovingly at Ghastly before you placed your freezing hand on his shoulder and started to shake him awake. “Ghastly. Ghastly! Ghastly Bespoke! Wake up! Wake up!”

He awoke with a startled breath and a panicked look on his face. His eyes darted around, look for any sign of danger that could have warranted such a frightening wake-up call. “Wha- What's wrong?” You felt a pang of guilt for waking him so rudely, but it was necessary, there was no time for butterfly kisses now. “Ghastly, we’ve been out in the snow for hours! Just look how dark it is already, we need to get inside!” Your tone must have been urgent enough for Ghastly to take heed because before you knew it, you on your feet and walking towards the cabin.“I can’t believe we slept out there” he chuckled, he seemed to be amazed at the fact that you both managed to ignore the cold in favour of finishing your nap from earlier. “Well to be fair, we were wrapped up in each other’s arms, so that explains how we stayed in the one spot for so long.”

“Hmmm” Ghastly replied, “Well if anybody in that cabin has got any sense, they will have lit a fire for us.” You shivered in anticipation at the thought of sitting by a warm fire, heaven knows you needed it after that little snowy stunt back there. “Oh God, Ghastly don’t get my hopes up.” Ghastly let out his signature sweet laugh at this, it sounded smooth and warm like melted chocolate, and you shuddered at the sound of it.

“Sorry darling, didn’t mean to be cruel.” Ghastly pushed open the cabin door and stood to the side, waiting for you to enter first. “Beauty before bravery, darling” You flushed a tad at his remark and cheeky smile but entered first none the less. He shut the door after you and followed your lead to the bedroom. As you walked, you prayed to every deity you could think of that the fire would be lit, and fortunately for you, your prayers had been answered.

Waiting for you in your bedroom was a crackling fire, as well as some thick woollen blankets that were sitting at bottom of the bed. You quickly lunged for them, alongside some pillows, and brought them to the front of the fireplace, where you began creating a nest that would be large enough for both Ghastly and you. Ghastly managed to coax you to get changed before you settled yourself, and you were sure you had never gotten changed faster because before you knew it, the pair of you were cuddled in front of the fire.

The fire crackled like a sweet melody and you could feel yourself drifting off, but you were fighting it valiantly because you wanted to appreciate this moment with your sweetheart. Ghastly seemed to sense this and cuddled into it, almost as if he were trying to envelop you.

Ghastly gently nuzzled his head into your neck softly, and you could feel his gentle breath fanning your neck, it was a comforting feeling. “Darling close your eyes. Enjoy the fire and relax. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You couldn’t stop your eyelids from starting to slide closed. “There we go sweetheart, shut your eyes and sleep.”Your eyes shut completely and the last thing you remember before drifting off completely was the warmth of the fire and Ghastly pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

[axeylotl]

Cold Night In

OK SO- I had the idea for this AU during class, and hardly even thought about it before writing this, which is really weird since I never write and I have so many more well thought out AUs that i could write about. but anyways I haven’t written anything in ages so if some parts aren’t good then let me know so I don't keep making the same mistakes! (also if ya’ll like it I might make more of this)

the basic synopsis is: Reginald is the desk worker at a shoddy motel in the mountains. on a particularly harsh night, a stranger wanders in.

Reginald sat in the creaky wooden chair at the front desk with a long, fuzzy scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. The single room building was cold, only barely keeping the howling blizzard outside. The fire was across the room, surrounded by two comfy looking chairs on either side and a sofa in front, though it was just a bit too far to do much for him. The heavy frost and darkness of night made the windows useless to look out. It had been a long day, and Reginald was nodding off at his desk.

He was snapped awake, however, by the sound of the bell above the door and the howl of wind to his left. A tall man in heavy looking clothes walked through the door. He wore a black, fluffy trapper hat that obscured his face as his head was tilted down. As the man walked up to the desk, Reginald got a better look at him. He had a stern, expressionless face and a bushy, orange mustache that was covered in ice and snow. He brushed it off a bit before speaking. 

“One night.” the stranger’s voice was low and gruff, it sounded like he didn’t use it often.

The stranger set a wad of cash on Reginald’s desk. Reginald was slightly taken aback by the man, as he radiated an air of intimidation. Many mountain climbers came through and stayed the night, but this man was different. Maybe Reginald was just tired, or maybe it was because of the raging storm. Either way, he was eager to get this man to his room and out of Reginald’s own. He took the money and counted it quickly, confirming it was enough.

“Uh-of course sir, right this way.” Reginald stood up and led the stranger to the back of the room, opposite the entrance door. He struggled a bit to open the door, as it was nearly frozen shut. Quickly, however, it swung open, letting snow and freezing air inside. The resident buildings, which could usually be easily seen just across the small field, were invisible in the dark and storm, but Reginald was confident enough that he could make it just fine. He wrapped his scarf around tighter, and set out with the stranger.

It was difficult to keep his balance in the wind, but he managed to make it to the empty building with the stranger right behind him. It was no larger than a single bedroom, but it was a place to stay nonetheless. Reginald tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, more forcefully this time. Too forcefully. The door swung open, slammed against the wall, then was torn completely off the old, shoddy hinges by the storm. Reginald stood there for a second, completely stunned. That was the only open room they had, and now it was rendered unusable in a matter of seconds.

“I…” Reginald turned back to the stranger. If there was any expression on his face at all, he couldn’t tell.

“...Guess we’ll ‘ave to go back.” the stranger said simply, as he turned around and started to make his way back to the main building. Reginald turned too, surprised at the fact that the stranger had said anything. So, they trudged back through the snow together.

…………………

The stranger stood to the side and held the door open, and as soon as Reginald was through, the man slammed it shut. As he caught his breath, Reginald realized what this meant. He was going to have to spend the night cooped up with this stranger. He looked up at the tall, imposing figure and started to get nervous. Every bad outcome that could happen with this situation started flooding his mind. What if they were trapped even longer than one night? What if they needed food? What if the man was dangerous? Reginald tried to stamp out those thoughts, but he wasn’t very good at it. Suddenly, he realized he’d been staring, and so had the stranger. Uneasily, he broke his gaze and started towards the lounge area of the room, and the stranger walked beside him. He kept his focus in front of him, but Reginald couldn’t help but look at the man.

The stranger started taking firewood off the shelf next to the fireplace and rekindling the dying fire. While Reginald knew he wasn’t supposed to let customers mess with the fire, he was too tired to care. He sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace, took his gloves off and held his hands to the fire. Reginald could’ve fallen asleep right there, if it weren’t for the presence of the other man, just in the corner of his vision. Soon, the fire was going strong again, and the stranger sat down on the rug alongside Reginald. For a good while, neither said anything. Reginald still couldn’t see any thoughts or emotion on the stranger’s face. The silence was starting to make him uncomfortable, so Reginald did his best to start up a conversation. If they were gonna be here all night, they might as well get acquainted with each other, right?

“So, uh, what’s your name?” Reginald did his best to sound friendly.

“Don’t ‘ave one.”

“Oh, um, okay” Reginald wasn’t totally sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. Worried about irritating the stranger, he waited a bit before trying again with a new question. “Where are you headed to?” 

“Not sure. ‘M just tryin’ to get away.”

Reginald hesitated a moment. “Get away from what? If you don’t mind me asking.” He wasn’t totally sure he wanted the answer.

The stranger stayed silent a second before responding. “The law, I suppose.”

There was silence for a good minute or two, as Reginald desperately tried to think of a conversation starter that wouldn’t take an unexpected nosedive to an uncomfortable dead end. Being by the fire was getting a bit too warm, so Reginald unwrapped his scarf and set it in his lap. The stranger seemed to have had the same idea, as he started taking off his heavy outer coat, revealing a worn sweater underneath. The man got up from the rug and sat down on the couch behind them. Reginald thought about going and sitting with him, but quickly shot down the thought. He still didn’t know the man, and he was a criminal, wasn’t he? He might be dangerous. But still, Reginald couldn’t shake the idea. They couldn’t leave the fire on all night, so it would eventually get cold, and they’d have to stay warm somehow. He looked around at the stranger, who was already starting to nod off. Finally, against his better judgement, Reginald got up and put the fire out, instantly making the room darker and colder, then sat down next to the stranger. 

“What’d you do ‘at for?” the stranger mumbled sleepily.

“Well, you can’t really leave a fire going with no one to take care of it, and i’m going to bed. So I uh, I thought we could keep each other warm? There’s not much else to stay warm…”

The stranger grunted in response, and leaned into Reginald, nuzzling into him a little. Surprised at how easily the stranger accepted the idea, Reginald could feel his face turn red. Hesitantly, he leaned into the stranger, and was surprised at how comfortable it was. Despite the fact that the man had made Reginald nervous since he came in, being close to him like this made him feel relaxed and secure in a way. But Reginald didn’t have time to realize this completely, as he was already drifting off to sleep.

…………………

Reginald slowly opened his eyes. It was cold in the room, and there was a distinct lack of a person beside him. The windows showed a clear morning outside and let in light that lit up the room in a chilly, dream-like feeling. As he sat up, Reginald looked around for the stranger. He was standing in front of the door, as if waiting for some sort of cue to leave.

“Bye.” the stranger said, and promptly opened the door and left. 

“Wait!” Reginald called out, but the man was already gone, leaving him blinking in the cold morning. 

For the rest of the day, Reginald couldn’t focus on anything. He kept thinking about the mysterious stranger. How, and why, did he not have a name? Did he actually have a name, but didn’t want to say? What crime had he committed and why was he running from it? In the back of his mind, he somewhat wished that the man would come back again. And if he did, maybe Reginald would be brave enough to ask some more questions.