#i’ve written thousands of words of analysis about it and i still can’t decide if i think it’s good or not

[bluvlet]

father to father.

(additional art under the cut)

[ianenjoyer]

an overly detailed analysis of every time Ian and Mickey talked about loving each other bc I love pain and angst apparently 

1. “You love me, and you’re gay.” -Ian, 3x09

So right off the bat this one was always the most shocking to me. Throughout the season, there were definitely hints that they were falling in love with each other/already in love but the fact that this is the first time we actually hear it hurts me so much. Especially because Ian was so sure. He wasn’t asking Mickey if he loves him or begging Mickey to love him. He just... knew that he did. This scene is so raw and painful and real because you just see two kids who are desperately in love with each other, but not allowed or able to show that in a healthy way, so they just end up lashing out at each other.

2. “You try sitting on your ass while the person you love--” -Ian, 3x11

Like I said: pain. So before, we heard that Ian knows Mickey loves him, but I always thought it was interesting that he focused on that instead of telling Mickey that he loves him. Because he does, and he definitely knew that. I think this speaks to Ian’s tendency to compartmentalize and only think of his emotions in terms of other people, which he does consistently throughout the show. So here we hear him admit it, but not to Mickey, and only because he’s drunk out of his mind. Ian is just one of those people that constantly keeps things bottled up inside and only deals with them when he reaches a breaking point, which he definitely did in this episode (and we see the fall out of this in 3x12).

2.5 (bc i forgot it the first time) “You love Mickey?” -Carl, 4x11

So I do think it’s really interesting that he says “I like how he smells” here instead of just saying yes. I mean I do think he likes how Mickey smells which is very adorable but he also definitely loved Mickey at this point and he was definitely aware of that. I think he didn’t say it for two reasons: one, he wasn’t ready to admit it out loud and two, he didn’t want Mickey to hear him say it. Before, being over-eager and too obvious about his feelings hadn’t been met with a good response from Mickey, so I think he was trying to avoid scaring him off, while also doing some pretty serious compartmentalization himself. This especially makes sense considering that they weren’t technically a couple here, and that Mickey had only just started admitting (through actions, not words) that what he and Ian had was about more than sex.

3. “You love him?” -Svetlana, 4x12

The dynamic between Mickey and Svet is a very interesting one, and I don’t know if anybody could ever fully pick it apart. But in this scene, you see an odd mutual understanding between them (which extends in season 5a). And what’s truly shocking is that Mickey says “maybe”, which is such a big step for him. Before, if somebody asked him that he would have completely avoided the question while probably blowing up at the person. But he says “maybe”, showing that, even if he doesn’t fully understand his feelings, he had definitely thought about it, and it doesn’t scare him like it used to. This is definitely because he came out and finally felt like he could really be with Ian without this sword hanging over his head (even though the circumstances of that weren’t great).

4. “I love you.” -Mickey, 5x06

God this one... breaks my heart. First of all, the fact that Mickey was the first one to say it would have been shocking in seasons 1-3, but it actually makes so much sense in season 5. Over and over again this season, Mickey’s shown that he loves Ian, but the fact that he can only say it when he thinks he’s losing Ian, and that it’s obvious he didn’t mean to say it, shows that he still hasn’t fully come to terms with his feelings, no matter how strong they are. 

5. “You used to love me--now you don’t even know who I am.” Ian, 5x12

This one is almost identical to #1, except with the added piece that Ian no longer thinks he deserves to be loved. This one is so fascinating to me, because it shows, once again, that Ian projects his emotions onto other people instead of dealing with his own feelings. He tells Mickey that he used to love him, even though there’s been no indication from Mickey that he no longer loves him. He says that Mickey doesn’t know who he is when, really, he’s the one that doesn’t know who he is. He put words into Mickey’s mouth, because that’s what he believed to be true, and I really don’t think that at this point anything could have convinced him otherwise. The lack of self-worth that comes with having a mental illness is so debilitating and all-consuming that no amount of reasoning from Mickey would have done much to convince him that he deserved what Mickey was offering to give him. 

6. “I love you.” -Mickey, 5x12

So while we have Ian telling Mickey that he used to love him, Mickey counters by just saying how he feels to his face. I think that seeing Ian go though what he went through, and almost losing him like three times made it so that Mickey could no longer deny his feelings. But like I said, Ian had it so cemented in his mind that he was doomed and fucked for life, that I don’t think anything could have gotten through to him at this point. And of course at this point Noel left the show, so we never got to see what could have happened between them if Mickey had stayed. (I 100% think they would have gotten back together sometime in late season 6 after Ian reached a stable place again but whatever).

7. “I love you.” -Ian, 7x11

Fuck. 7x10 and 7x11 are such bittersweet episodes because while it does make it so clear that Ian and Mickey are the loves of each others lives, it’s also when they thought they would never see each other again. What’s extra sad it that this is the first time we’ve ever heard Ian say this. And it’s a goodbye. The only time Ian can really face his emotions head on is when he’s forced to, and he was definitely forced to here. He loves Mickey. He knows Mickey loves him. But that didn’t really matter here, and it’s so tragic, but also really realistic. As for Mickey, he doesn’t even seem surprised--because he wasn’t. He wouldn’t have asked Ian to come if he didn’t know he loved him. This scene is extra heartbreaking because of that. This whole thing just serves as a reminder that sometimes love isn’t enough, and that sometimes there are forces bigger than any two people at play, which I think has always been a central idea to their story.

8. “I love you.” “I know, love you too.” Ian and Mickey, 10x03

Mutual ‘I love you!!!! It took like 10 years but it finally happened. They say it like they’ve said it a thousand time before, which makes me think that it’s definitely not the first time they’ve said it. There’s not really much to talk about here except that finally they’re allowed to love each other. Sure it’s not an ideal situation, but it is one where there are no forces actively working to keep them apart, which is so wonderful. When Ian and Mickey are allowed to just be, they work so well. Even though they’re saying goodbye here, it’s not a real one, not like the break up or the border. It’s temporary and they both know that so for once, them saying ‘i love you’ is a happy (or at least bittersweet) thing instead of the tragedy it was all of the other times.

9. “I love you…and I trust you.” -Ian, 10x08

Remember that quote where Fiona tells Jimmysteve that to her (and all the Gallaghers) trust is bigger than love? Yeah. Anyways his scene is tough because while I don’t think Ian was necessarily lying about genuinely wanting to marry Mickey and the legal stuff just being bonus, I do think he was downplaying the importance, both to himself and Mickey. And at the courthouse, once the bonus of spousal privilege wasn’t needed, he definitely started to realize the magnitude of the situation and what connotations marriage held for him. I mean marriage isn’t something you should just decide on a whim, no matter how much you love somebody and I think he realized that the second the impending threat was gone.

10. “Mickey, I love you!” -Ian 10x08

This is him making it as clear as possible to Mickey that it’s marriage that’s the problem, not him. He saw how heartbroken Mickey was when he didn’t sign the papers, and was basically doing damage control at this point. The problem was, Mickey couldn’t see through his initial heartbreak to really listen to what Ian was saying, or try to understand where he was coming from. I think that Mickey is an incredibly understanding person, but this was just one time too many for him.

11. “You’re just saying you don’t love me enough now.” -Mickey, 10x09

This is probably the first time we’ve ever seen Mickey question Ian’s feelings for him. I think that at the courthouse, he was just so blatantly reminded of the break up and the border that he wasn’t thinking rationally. He was so terrified at the prospect of Ian not choosing him, that he couldn’t listen to Ian’s (pretty reasonable) explanation for why he didn’t get married. However, I don’t think he really believed what he was saying, especially because of how petty he was being with Byron, and how obvious he made it that he would instantly go back to Ian if he proposed. But it still is really sad that he was reminded of that all over again after believing that he and Ian were gonna get married and that he was never going to have to worry about that again.

12. “How do you know you love me?” -Ian, 10x09

I’ve written a meta on this before but here I go again. He’s once again assuming that Mickey couldn’t possibly love him--that he couldn’t possibly want to be with him forever. Not because Mickey’s done anything to indicate that, but because that’s what he thinks Mickey should feel. He genuinely can’t believe that Mickey would want to be with somebody like him, especially because of what he saw with Monica and the way she destroyed relationship after relationship (both romantic and familial). I don’t think he sees himself as being all that different from Monica, so even though that’s definitely not something Mickey would ever care about, it weighs on him heavily (and probably always will). This whole thing just so directly parallels the break up, and it’s so sad to think that, after everything, Ian still doesn’t think he’s worthy of the kind of love Mickey has for him.

13. “I love you Mickey Milkovich. More than anything.” -Ian, 10x10

More than anything!! God, the proposal was a little underwhelming but this line!! It’s Ian choosing to get past all of his doubts because his love for Mickey is bigger to him than they could ever be. Like I said, I don’t think he’ll ever fully be over his insecurities, but he can definitely choose to let Mickey in and have hope that they can work through it together. And even though Mickey knew that Ian loved him and was basically just biding his time, it must have felt amazing for him to hear it put so clearly like this.

14. “Look I love you. I love you.” -Mickey, 10x12

First of all, the way he says it is so amazing. Second of all, there isn’t much to say about this except that it’s so indicative of his growth. Like he went from being closeted and terrified, to blurting out how he feels in a room full of people. That is such a beautiful thing and I get really emo whenever I think about it. 

15. “To love and to cherish you ‘til death do us part.” -Ian and Mickey, 10x12

I actually really love that they used traditional vows for their wedding. So much of their relationship was complicated and hard, so to have something very simplistic but meaningful as their vows was so perfect. And the way they say them... they’re being so sincere and so honest. They really mean what they’re saying. They love each other!! And they’re married!! Wow!! That’s all I have to say about this.

[mayfriend-archive]

Totally understand if you're not up for it and fully recognize the ronald mcdonald dom/sub anon vibes which is an AMAZING post btw but like...now i'm curious, what the hell did Lord of the Flies anon DO that got him blocked for the discourse? like...i just can't wrap my head around high school lit being...uh...that inflammatory i guess?

Okay so, I'll start by saying I've had a new anon from apparently the same anon saying they are NOT the person I blocked, just a rando making the same points, but I'll answer your question anyway just to set out why this person in particular got blocked, out of the several thousand who reblogged/commented on that very successful addition to the LoTF post I made.

First off, I added the 'real life Lord of the Flies' story because I thought it was a good story. I had read about it only a couple days beforehand in Humankind and, after reading out the entire chapter to my parents who weren't very interested, I was excited that there was not only a post where it would be relevant to post, but that I wouldn't be hijacking it, as it was already rejecting the widespread interpretation taught in many schools, that humanity is inherently savage.

When making the addition, I a) did not think it would get more than a couple reblogs, because the post was already at 50k notes and I figured anyone that might be interested would already have seen it, and b) I did not know the very specific context that prompted William Golding to write the book; all I knew was that he had been a teacher at a public school (basically, the poshest schools in the country - think Eton, Harrow, very 'old money' places that pump out Conservative politicians by the bucket-load 🤢) who hated his job and the boys he taught (which, valid), and new information I'd been given in Humankind - that Golding had said to his wife one day, "Wouldn't it be a good idea to write a story about some boys on an island, showing how they would really behave?" - which had no mention of The Coral Island by R. M. Ballantyne, which I have since learned was the text that Golding loathed enough to write an entire novel in refutation of - and included what I considered a very telling letter from Golding to his publisher, in which Golding wrote of his belief that 'even if we start with a clean slate, our nature compels us to make a muck of it.' Another Golding quote that I believe portrays his belief in humanity's 'innate savagery' is that "man produces evil as a bee produces honey."

Obviously, the author of a book putting forward the case for humanity's inherent goodness was going to oppose Golding's hypothesis; Bregman not only noted Golding's literary accomplishments and beliefs, but his personal life.

When I began delving into the author's life, I learned what an unhappy individual he'd been. An alcoholic. Prone to depression. A man who, as a teacher, once divided his pupils into gangs and encouraged them to attack each other. "I have always understood the Nazis," Golding confessed, "because I am of that sort by nature." (Humankind by Rutger Bregman, p. 24-25)

I have bolded the part about him as a teacher, because it is incredibly relevant to the original post that I commented on, which begins with a comic of a teacher locking her class in to see them 'recreate' Lord of the Flies, something which the follow up comments before mine staunchly reject as both misunderstanding the point of the book, and the fact that it took the kids in Lord of the Flies a significant amount of time without adult supervision to go 'savage'. This misreading of the text is widespread enough that when Golding won the Nobel Prize for Lord of the Flies, the Swedish Nobel committee wrote that his book 'illuminate[s] the human condition in the world of today'. Whether or not they misread it is beyond my expertise - they do at least mention the factors of the outside world neglected by many when analysing the book, but still seem to believe it says something about human nature as a whole rather than just, to quote thedarkbutbeige 'British kids being rat bastards' - but Golding quite happily took his Nobel prize on this basis. Which, in fairness, I would too. It's a fucking Nobel prize.

It was with this knowledge, and this knowledge alone, that I stated in my now very, very widely read comment that Golding 'wrote the book to be a dick', in response to the tags of the person I reblogged from. As I said, I now know that Golding did not write the book (solely) because he hated the kids he taught, but as a response to The Coral Island and the general idea that clearly the British were inherently civilsed, whilst the people they colonised and enslaved were inherently savage. So. That's the background.

The anon - or rather, the person I thought was anon - was the sole exception out of dozens of replies, who instead of telling me about The Coral Island politely decided it was time to go ALL CAPS and regurgitate points already made by thespaceshipoftheseus, and implied that the only reason that the real life Tongan castaways didn't go all Lord of the Flies was because they weren't British. Not because they weren't surrounded by violence like the boys in Lord of the Flies, or there wasn't a World War ongoing, or that they weren't the upper, upper, upper crust of a class-obsessed society like Britain - but because they weren't British. A complete inversion of the concept that Golding was trying to get across - now, instead of all of humanity being equally prone to savagery in the right conditions, it was solely nationality that determined it. As in, the British were inherently savage, but nobody else was.

I, trying for humour, made the terrible mistake of replying to them.

I won't lie, I was absolutely blown away that this was real life. What I think they were trying to do was be that Cool Tumblr Person who, after somebody's been shitty on a post, goes to their blog and sees something Damning in their about/description. In an ideal world, I imagine I'd have gone nuts or done something Unforgiveable. In what I can only call the rant that followed, they stated several times that I needed to go back to high school to get some 'proper literary analysis' skills and that the story of the Tongan castaways was completely unrelated to the point at hand which. I mean, I disagree, considering that I made the addition, but I couldn't get my head around how commenting on a post that was already rejecting the thesis that the 'point' of Lord of the Flies was that humanity was inherently savage and was, in fact, about how kids - British or otherwise - learn how to function from the adults around them, and that traumatised, terrified children aren't going to create a mini-Utopia, and put forward a real life example of how without the key additions of an ongoing world war, a colonial Empire and the subsequent mindset of thinking you are 'inherently civilised' and therefore can't do anything wrong, actually, people just want to take care of each other.

A friend has since asked me why I even have 'england' in my description. To be honest, it's a timezone thing - I talk to a lot of people online who don't share my timezone, and it generally makes me feel like if I don't reply immediately because it's 3am, they have the tools to see that I'm not in their timezone and not just ignoring them. I did consider changing it to 'british' or 'uk' after it was... 'used against me', I guess, simply because I didn't want to deal with it, but you know what. No. Not gonna do that. I am from England, and I have never hid that fact. I have a tag called 'uk politics', during Eurovision I refer to the UK's act as 'us' (even if I really, really don't want to. Because James Newman slaughtered that song and it was downright embarrassing), I regularly post stuff in my personal tag about where I live (and mostly complain about this piece of shit government). If people really think my nationality makes every point I make null and void, then they don't have to follow me or interact with my posts; tumblr is big, and I am one medium-small blog very easily passed over.

I did reply to them, trying to explain the above, but their next response really just doubled down. Because I used the word British instead of English - foolishly because the posts above mine focused on Britishness, and also because although Golding was English and taught English kids, the pro-Imperialism author of The Coral Island, R. M. Bannatyne was actually Scottish so, ding ding ding, falls into the 'British' category - they then decided that I was somehow trying to pretend I wasn't English and made all the same points, before ending with this doozy:

At this point, I knew there was nothing to be gained from replying, because if we're whipping out conditions like they're pokemon cards then there's no actual conversation anymore, and I'm not going to start mudslinging like an identity politician. They made up their mind, and I figured there could be no harm in letting them think that they 'won' by blocking them instead of replying.

Until the ask. INNATE ENGLISH SAVAGERY did, I'll admit, make me think it was them, back again. I even thought up a really good response approximately 12 hours after I replied, I was that sure. Until the second message came in, and said they were just someone who came from the post and made the same point by chance. So the saga draws to a close... for now.

It may have been them, it may not have been - the anon feature makes it impossible to be sure, but as the second message I got said, we're in a heatwave. It's too hot to argue. And I've just written a goddamn essay about a book I dislike anyway.

My pasty English ass is going to go melt. If there's Disk Horse, do not tell me. I am Done™

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin - The Guardian Project (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a company project in Season 2 which has not been released in English servers!🍒

Timeline: Stray Date -> The Guardian Project -> The STF Filming Project

Case Details:

I clinched the opportunity to film an Evolver crime documentary with the STF. It didn’t cross my mind that I’d be working with the Special Operations Team.

Although the case seemed simple, it suddenly became dangerous halfway. A broken lead... a bomb that could detonate at any moment... 

This time, can Gavin and I have a pleasant collaboration? 

[ CHAPTER ONE ]

MC: Finally done...

Morning light streams in from outside the window. I straighten up from the laptop, rub my eyes, and once again check through the filming proposal I spent the entire night on.

The cover of the proposal reads: STF Collaboration Project.

Half a month earlier, a government-related department announced that the STF would be working with the media to create a special documentary regarding Evolver criminals.

Recently, the small increase in the frequency of Evolver criminals has led to diverse and confused comments from the public.

This documentary is meant to showcase STF’s resolute attack on Evolver criminals to them.

And my company managed to win the bid for this filming opportunity. As it has a lot of significance, I decided to handle it personally.

Just when I’m doing a final thorough check, the phone on my desk vibrates.

Anna: MC, the STF just got in contact and adjusted the timing. They want the filming crew to be at STF today.

MC: Huh? But we agreed that it’d be ten days later. How could they suddenly change the timing?

Anna: They said they happen to have a case which doesn’t have a high difficulty yet is very novel, so it’s suitable for our shoot.

MC: All right, I’ll make the arrangements.

Anna: Okay, I’ve already sent you the meeting address.

After hanging up, I immediately make several phone calls, arranging for equipment and a photographer.

Time is of the essence. I bring the proposal along with me, and rush to the STF.

At the entrance of STF, an officer politely stops me.

STF officer: What are you here for?

MC: Hello, we’re the producing team from [MC’s Company Name]. We’re here to collaborate with STF to film a documentary on Evol criminals. This is the filming permit.

I hand him the permit while explaining. After checking it meticulously, he lets us enter.

According to my memory after being here a few times, I successfully find the meeting room.

The door is ajar. Plain white light spills from the gap, along with sounds of conversations. I can faintly hear phrases such as “scene of the crime”, “investigation direction”.

I gently knock at the door before me.

??: Enter.

As the door opens, the gigantic electronic screens in the meeting room enter my vision.

Just as I'm about to introduce myself, the smile on my lips freeze in place.

In the huge meeting room, the white decor casts everything in a cold light. It also makes the sharp eyes of the man, who is donned in uniform at the other end of the long table, appear even more icy.

And at this moment, that pair of amber eyes shift away from the materials in his hand, and land on me.

MC: Gavin...?

-

[ CHAPTER TWO ]

Under the gaze of a room full of STF members, I take a few steps back calmly.

MC: Sorry... I might have walked into the wrong room.

Gavin’s voice suddenly resounds. 

Gavin: No need to look around. You didn’t walk into the wrong room.

MC: Didn’t they say the difficulty level of this collaborative case wasn’t high? Why is the Special Operations Team being deployed?

I mutter softly, suppressing the questions in my heart. I usher the photographer into the meeting room, and we sit at the seats furthest away from Gavin. 

A young special officer sitting at the side greets me amicably. 

Young special officer: You should be the person-in-charge for this program, right? 

I nod. 

MC: Hello everyone. I’m the person-in-charge for this program, MC. 

Gavin tosses me a stack of documents from the table, speaking in a low voice.

Gavin: First, familiarise yourself with the materials of this case. 

I take the materials and flip through them quickly. At the same time, Gavin continues with his analysis of the case before my interruption.

Gavin: On the day of the incident, there was a heavy rain which could have buried many traces of the crime. As such, it’s necessary to conduct a key survey of the Evol fluctuations left on the scene.

The young special officer sitting next to me leans over enthusiastically, explaining the case to me softly. 

Young special officer: This case is pretty novel, and is very suitable for your shoot.

MC: Mm, I see from the materials that a nationally protected thousand-year-old marriage tree at the Beishan Scenic Area was chopped down in the middle of the night.

Young special officer: Typically, we'd leave cases of such level to smaller teams to handle. 

He stealthily tilts his chin towards Gavin. 

Young special officer: But yesterday, this case was suddenly brought to the Special Operations Team by Captain Gavin, who said he wanted to investigate this first. 

The special officer is about to say something else, but a cold voice interrupts him. 

Gavin: MC. 

I lift my head to see Gavin’s hands pressing down on the materials on the table. He stares at me. 

Gavin: That’s the entire course of action. Do you have any questions? 

I instantly cast a glance at the map behind Gavin. 

The Beishan Scenic Area has been circled. Next to it has the word “Invisibility” written in red, with a question mark after it. 

MC: I have no questions.

Gavin: Before I allow the media to participate in the investigative operations, you have to guarantee not to disclose any information, or disrupt the overall plan. 

Gavin straightens up and meets my eyes.

Gavin: So, repeat the course of action I just mentioned.  

He looks at me with an expressionless gaze, as though he doesn’t believe I’d be remember his words seriously.

I return his gaze without a sign of weakness, and repeat his plan perfectly, word for word.

At this moment, a slight measure of ease appears on his originally expressionless face.

Gavin: You have a good memory.

The meeting room doors are pushed open, and a special officer walks in. 

Special officer: A new lead has been discovered.

-

[ CHAPTER THREE ]

For a long time, the Beishan Scenic Area has been popular with tourists due to the thousand-year-old marriage tree on the top of the mountain. 

I climb to the top of the mountain with a video camera, and see the thousand-year-old tree, which has been chopped down.

It now rests to the side in a strange manner. The marriage slips hanging on the tree are also twisted together in disarray. 

Young officer: That’s where the new lead is.

I look in the direction he’s pointing at, and discover a footprint near the tree. 

MC: This footprint looks like it belongs to a man. But limited information can be extracted from a mere footprint.

Young officer: Don’t worry. Captain Gavin has said that even the most trivial information may hide concrete clues. Our task is to find the criminal. 

He seems to have a lot of trust in Gavin. I can’t help but ask:

MC: Aren’t you scared of him?

In the distance, Gavin investigates the scene. Under the sun, his eyes are cold and fierce, reminiscent of an unsheathed sharp sword, glowing with a cold light and preventing anyone from coming near. 

Young officer: I’m scared, but it was Captain Gavin who saved me from the brink of death during a mission. Even though I’m still scared of him, I know he’s a captain worthy of following. 

While he speaks, Gavin seems to have finished his investigation. He looks over in our direction and strides over. 

Gavin: Go look for the staff and ask for a list of visitors. 

Gavin throws a task to the young officer, then turns towards me.

Gavin: What were the two of you talking about just now? 

MC: Nothing much. We were talking about how it’s pretty difficult to find someone based on a footprint.

Gavin smiles slightly. The shadow of the tree falls on his face, dissipating the chilling aura he exudes. 

Gavin: Looks like they haven’t taught you some things.

[Note: He’s likely referring to Black Swan]

He suddenly closes the distance between us. His eyes flit past my face, resting on something behind me. 

His breath is at my ear, and only the ends of his brown hair can be seen, moving slightly in the sun. 

MC: Gavin, you...

Gavin: Don’t move. 

After a few seconds, Gavin restores our original distance, his hand holding on to a marriage slip.  

Gavin: What can you tell from this?

I try to stabilise my breathing. Looking at the marriage slip in his hands, I see a pair of names belonging to a couple. 

MC: There are many names on the marriage tree. Couples will tie their marriage slips on the tree to pray for blessings from the gods. But what does this have to do with the case?

Gavin: There are typically two causes for crimes committed on impulse - self-benefit and passion. As a national scenic spot, the Beishan Scenic Area would not give rise to conflicts of interest. The criminal we are looking for likely committed the crime due to his emotions. 

MC: I understand now. He must have tied a marriage slip onto the tree before, but since his wish didn’t come true, he decided to chop down this “sacred tree”.

Gavin: That is only one possible inference. As of now, we still lack key evidence. 

The young officer walks over and hands a very thick list of names to Gavin. 

Young officer: Captain Gavin, this is the name list of everyone who purchased a marriage slip from this site over the last six months. 

MC: The marriage slip belonging to the suspect has definitely been removed from the tree. If we can find any mismatch between the list and the marriage slips on the tree, the chances of that person being the suspect is very high.

Gavin: Good reaction speed. 

He lifts his eyes towards me with approval, his gaze as cool as the wind in late autumn.

Young officer: Captain Gavin, we’ve made a record of the names found on the marriage slips.

Two name lists are handed to Gavin. After a brief look at them, he hands them to me.

Gavin: Take a look.

MC: Only three names are mismatched... and only one is a male. It should be him then.

Gavin: Go and ask the staff if they have any impressions of him. Then look for the date he purchased the marriage slip from the name list, and check the surveillance tape for that day. 

The young officer brings the list of names over to the staff and queries them. Gavin toys with the marriage slip in his hand, and suddenly asks:

Gavin: Why did you take up this program? 

MC: This sort of government-supported large-scale projects can bring in a lot of resources. When there’s something to gain, everyone will rush to obtain it.

Gavin: You seemed very surprised to see me.

MC: The Special Operations Team has always accepted the most difficult tasks, so I didn’t understand why you’d take up such a small case.

Gavin doesn’t respond to my words.

The young officer walks over and talks to Gavin. He nods, then looks at me.

Gavin: We’ve got the appearance of the suspect and have confirmed his address. We’ll carry out the arrest tomorrow, at 9am.

-

[ CHAPTER FOUR ]

Following the address Gavin provided, I reach the location of the suspect’s home. The door is already surrounded by special police officers, and Gavin stands in the middle, pointing a gun at the door.

At the entrance of the stairs, I carefully set up the camera, prepared to take photos of the heroic postures of the special police officers when they arrest the criminal from all directions. 

Gavin suddenly tosses a glance at me.

Gavin: Later, remain where you are. Don’t move around.

MC: Actually, I can follow the team from behind and go in too.

Gavin: Anything can happen during an arrest. You’re not a law enforcement officer, so don’t hold us back.

He no longer looks at me. His side profile is cold, and his tone clearly leaves no room for negotiation.

Gavin: Our target criminal could possess an Evol related to invisibility. Be careful during the arrest, and block off all escape routes immediately.

He lowers his voice, staring at the closed door. 

After a while--

Gavin: Now!

The well-trained special officers quickly kick the door open. Gavin takes the lead and rushes in with a pistol.

I stand outside the door, waiting for Gavin’s instructions. 

At this moment, the door opposite suddenly opens. A woman walks out, slightly anxious. 

Woman: Are you... looking for the person who lives there?

She looks at the door opposite and stops talking.

MC: Your neighbour could be the suspect we’re trying to arrest. 

The woman hesitates, then retrieves a letter from her house and hands it to me.

Woman: We don’t usually communicate, and I haven’t seen him much. But three days ago, he suddenly gave me a letter and said if anyone comes looking for him, I should pass this letter to them.

The handheld transceiver crackles.

[Note: It’s basically a walkie-talkie but it doesn’t sound cool enough for Captain Gavin so...]

Gavin: You can come in now. 

-

Holding onto the letter, I turn around and enter the house. Gavin has his arms crossed over his chest, standing in front of a map of Loveland City, pursing his lips.

A young officer pulls me to a corner and speaks softly:

Young officer: The suspect isn’t here, but we found tools to create explosives. The situation has become more serious. No one dares to disturb Captain Gavin when he’s thinking about cases, so just ask me if you have any questions.

Without saying anything, I walk towards Gavin.

Gavin frowns and turns his head, the light flashing in his eyes akin to a cold, sharp blade. 

When he sees that it’s me, his frown relaxes, and he speaks lightly.

Gavin: What’s in your hand? 

MC: It could be helpful with solving the case. 

I hand the letter to him, and he tears it open without hesitation. 

Gavin: “The marriage tree is just the beginning. The good show awaits.” There are tools for creating explosives in his room. Looks like he’s thinking of creating explosions in Loveland City... just as I thought.

Gavin quickly holds up his handheld transceiver. 

Gavin: Team One, follow me to a school five kilometres away. Team Two, do a deployment and control of all the intersections within ten kilometres. 

MC: Did you discover something? 

While the team members prepare, Gavin explains. 

Gavin: The suspect used a colourless pen to circle a location on this map. The markings of such colourless pens can be captured by a screen. 

Looking through the screen of my camera, I can indeed see that a school has been circled.

MC: Is this the place where the bomb is hidden?

Gavin: Not necessarily. It could be a trap.

MC: Which is why you’ve split them into two teams - one to follow the lead and investigate the school, and the other team to continue looking for the suspect in the vicinity. Earlier, you mentioned that it was “just as you thought”. Did you already guess the suspect would create explosives?

 I vaguely guess that this is the real reason why Gavin took up the case. 

Gavin: This case is related to an earlier case, where a large number of gunpowder-creating materials disappeared. In the end, they confessed that the transaction took place at the Beishan Scenic Area. 

MC: The Beishan Scenic Area... the very first crime committed by the suspect was also in the Beishan Scenic Area. You took up this case because of the lead? 

Gavin looks at me, as though he’s about to say something. In the end, he simply keeps the map, turns around, and leaves. 

-

[ CHAPTER FIVE ]

We reach the high school marked out in the map.

It is still school time. The campus is noisy, and students frolic in the playground.

A few students who are messing around see Gavin. His handsome face doesn’t hide his terrifying aura, and the students quickly run away in fear.

MC: Looks like your aura as the school tyrant is the same as back then.

Gavin casts me a sweeping glance. 

Gavin: And you’re still the same as last time, unafraid of me. 

Soon after, the students on campus are evacuated. Donning bomb suits, the special police officers shuttle across the floors searching for the bomb.

Gavin doesn’t wear a bomb suit. He leans against a ginkgo tree, thinking about something.

I set up the camera.

On the screen, ginkgo leaves fall one after another. One leaf falls onto the man’s silver badge. The ginkgo leaf casts a warm yellow reflection on the cold badge.

Special officer: Captain Gavin, we have searched the entire campus but we didn’t discover anything. 

The map was really just a trap. 

Expressionless, Gavin responds with an “mm”. He takes out his handheld transceiver.

Gavin: Team Two, your report. 

A response quickly comes through the transceiver.

Special officer: The deployment and control has been done. As of now, we haven’t found anything suspicious. 

With a slight furrowing of his brows, Gavin takes another look at the map. 

I lean over, and ask in the voice of an interviewer:

MC: The only lead has been broken. What does Captain Gavin intend to do next?

Gavin: Even if a lead is broken, it’s still a type of clue.

He hands me a marker pen, signalling that I should draw two circles - one where the school is, and one where the suspect’s home is.

Gavin: As of now, these are the places associated with the suspect. There must be a connection between them.

MC: Apart from their close proximity, I can’t find anything else. 

Gavin, who has been casually leaning against the tree all this while, suddenly straightens up.

Gavin: Exactly - the close proximity. 

MC: What you’re saying is that the proximity is the suspect’s main deciding factor on where to plant the bomb?

Gavin: First-time offenders will typically choose a location within their comfort zone to commit the crime. Within the range of the suspect’s comfort zone, there are only two places with high human traffic volume. Apart from the school, it’s the Diagonal Garden.

Gavin holds up the handheld transceiver.

Gavin: Team Two, head to the Diagonal Garden. 

Person on the other end: Received. 

Five minutes later, the handheld transceiver crackles. 

Person on the other end: Captain Gavin, we have reached the Diagonal Garden, but there was a small explosion before we arrived. 

Gavin: Casualties? 

Person on the other end: The explosives weren’t powerful and no one was hurt. But we found a warning letter on the scene. 

-

[ CHAPTER SIX ]

In the STF meeting room, Gavin is doing an analysis of the case. 

Gavin: At present, we have grasped information pertaining to the criminal. As he is suspected to have the ability of invisibility, we may not be able to find his hiding spot even if we use Evol. 

Once he begins the analysis, Gavin’s abilities are displayed clearly. 

He is like a sharp and bright sword, cutting through the darkness and drawing out light reminiscent of shooting stars...

I study the warning letter, which has one sentence written on it: “Tomorrow at 7pm, please look forward to an even grander gift.”

MC: At 7pm tomorrow, the criminal is going to detonate the bomb. But the leads we have right now aren’t enough to find him. 

Gavin: If we can’t find him, we’ll just force him to show himself. 

The map behind him still has Beishan Scenic Area, the criminal’s home, and the Diagonal Garden circled. 

I suddenly realise an issue everyone has neglected. 

MC: The criminal’s purpose is to detonate a bomb and cause chaos. But his act of chopping down the tree at the start stems from his emotions. Why did his motives change? 

Gavin’s slender fingers pause on the map. He nods lightly.

Gavin: No. His motive has never changed. 

He turns to a young officer at the side. 

Gavin: Check up on the woman who went to the Beishan Scenic Area with him.

MC: Do you think the girl knows where the suspect is? 

Gavin shakes his head.

Gavin: The suspect has always been acting based on his emotions. So the location he selected for the “gift” is definitely related to that girl. 

Gavin explains patiently. For some reason, the special officers at the side look stunned, as though they’ve seen a ghost. 

The young officer turns on his laptop. I look at the screen in shock, watching as a stream of data appears - his Evol is the ability to control the flow of information.

Looks like everyone in the Special Operations Team, from its captain to its members, are not just normal people. 

Very quickly, they find the girl. The girl, who has been invited to STF, looks very nervous. When faced with the special officer’s questions, she can’t speak at all.

MC: Let me do the asking. The way you’re doing it won’t get you anywhere. 

Gavin looks at me. Unexpectedly, he nods.

MC: Don’t be afraid. I’d just like to ask you to recall your boyfriend. 

Girl: We broke up a month ago. My family doesn’t like Evolvers. You should know that a lot of normal people can’t really accept Evolvers...

MC: What is his Evol? Do you know what it is?

Girl: Invisibility. 

My eyes meet Gavin’s. 

MC: Do you remember any places that were very important to the both of you? 

Girl: Apart from the marriage tree, there’s also the amusement park Ferris wheel in the centre of the city. He confessed his feelings for me there. 

Gavin presses the handheld transceiver.

Gavin: The target location is the amusement park at the centre of the city. The entire team will leave in ten minutes. 

-

[ CHAPTER SEVEN ]

It is close to dusk, and the tender night breeze brings with it the sweet scent of cotton candy. In the amusement park, happy smiles are found on adults and children.

They have no idea that a bomb is hidden in a certain corner of the amusement park.

Under Gavin’s instructions, plainclothes police wordlessly meld into the crowd. 

Gavin: The criminal could be hiding in the crowd. We can’t startle him. Instead, he has to show himself.

The red light on the handheld transceiver blinks a few times. This amusement park is now in STF’s control. 

MC: How do you intend to lure him out? 

Gavin: The police dogs are searching for the location of the bomb. Once they’re done, I will have the amusement park start the fire alarm to evacuate the crowd. 

Gavin’s tone is calm. In an instant, I already know what he’s going to do. 

MC: Are you planning to defuse the bomb on your own and lure the suspect to show himself? What if he detonates the bomb while you’re defusing it?

Gavin: As long as he appears nearby, I will know where he is. He wouldn’t have time to detonate the bomb.

As the sky continuously grows darker, there isn’t any information on the bomb’s location from the transceiver. 

I look at the time. There’s only an hour left till the time stated in the warning letter. 

MC: I have a plan. It could lure the suspect out without requiring more manpower. Would you like to try? 

Gavin turns his head to look at me steadily.

Gavin: What do you need me to do?

MC: You’re agreeing just like that? 

Gavin: The police dogs are still confirming the location of the bomb. I promise you, it’s just an additional measure. 

He walks to the ticket counter of the Ferris wheel. When he returns, there are two tickets for the Ferris wheel in his hand. 

An unnatural expression flashes across his face, but it quickly vanishes. What’s left in his eyes is a peaceful gaze. 

Gavin: Let’s go. 

MC: All right. 

-

The Ferris wheel ascends slowly. The glow of sunset displays beautiful colours in the sky. They are reflected in the eyes of the person seated opposite me, looking even more amazing than the scenery.

The wind gently blows Gavin’s brown hair, and his eyes fall on my face. 

MC: You used to say that you really liked looking down from this height, because you can see the whole of Loveland City. 

Gavin: Actually, those were just excuses to stay with you a little longer. Whether it was tying my shoes for a few more minutes, or pretending that I forgot to bring an umbrella on rainy days. 

Gavin: They all were. 

I’m left stunned. In the narrow space, the night is hidden in his eyes, and seems to be hidden in his words as well. 

At this moment, the Ferris wheel reaches the peak, then starts making its descent. 

I blink, trying my best to maintain an indifferent facade. 

MC: I thought about it for a long time. We should break up. You’re an Evolver, and that makes me feel very unsafe. Perhaps Evolvers and normal humans shouldn’t be together.

The Ferris wheel finishes its round and the door slowly opens.

Even after saying my lines, Gavin still looks at me, his sharp eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

MC: You...

Suddenly, a formless hand grabs my wrist. At the same time, a furious voice sounds. 

Invisible man: Why don’t you understand! What wrong did Evolvers do? Why do you have to treat them differently?

But Gavin is even faster. A raging wind courses from all directions, swirling a person’s silhouette in front of me. 

The invisible man struggles in pain, and Gavin pulls me behind him.

Gavin: Are you okay?

I nod my head. I watch the special police officers work together to take down the invisible man. But they are unable to find a detonator on him.

The invisible man is suppressed by Gavin, and he gives up struggling. I have a clear view of his face - he’s a young and delicate man. 

Invisible man: The STF isn’t that great either! You’re helping a normal person attack an Evolver? Who are you to sanction me?

He struggles, glaring angrily at Gavin.

Under his glare, Gavin coldly handcuffs the man’s wrists.

After he gets up, Gavin straightens his back. He lower his eyes towards the invisible man lying on the floor, and his tone is icy.

Gavin: Listen carefully. Capturing you is done in the name of the law, not STF. Having Evol is not a reason to commit crimes. Your crimes will always belong to your own name.

Gavin straightens up, and the special officers at the side hastily bring the invisible man to the police car. 

I walk towards Gavin. 

MC: Gavin.

Gavin turns around, the coldness in his eyes not yet faded.

Gavin: What’s wrong? 

MC: I think I know what this documentary should convey to the audience. Even with sword-like authority, the STF will always have justice as its supreme guide.

A sudden night breeze courses past, lingering around my wrist. Gavin looks at me, his eyes deep.

But the corners of his lips suddenly curl upwards.

Gavin: Given your position, you shouldn’t be talking to me about justice.

I smile as well, extending a hand towards him.

MC: Gavin, it has been a pleasant collaboration.

Gavin arches his eyebrows. He removes the leather glove on his right hand, and holds onto my hand.

His palm is dry and warm. As compared to last time, there are more thin calluses on it.

Gavin: It has been a pleasant collaboration. 

- End -

The program has received stable ratings, and has remained moderately popular during its broadcast period. The company has used this success to adjust its future direction, seeking a more integrated and comprehensive layout. The STF clicked ‘like’ on the documentary, arousing heated discussions among netizens.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: You guys have no idea how attatched I am to this fanfic idk what I’ll do once it’s over omg -Danny

Words: 2,506

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Somebody Else’ by The 1975

Chapter Sixteen: The Agreement.

Mel felt the cloak fall off her and Harry tried to move, but Hermione held to his wrist.

"Not yet! She might not be gone yet."

"She's goin' back ter the castle," Hagrid replied, peering through the window. "Blimey... inspectin' people, is she?"

"Yeah, Trelawney's on probation already..."

"'Mountain's scenery'," Mel scoffed. "That old cow, I wish I could put her in her place..."

"Me too," Harry sulked.

"Um... what sort of thing are you planning to do with us in class, Hagrid?" Hermione inquired anxiously.

"Oh, don' you worry abou' that, I've got a great load o' lessons planned! I've bin keepin' a couple o' creatures saved fer yer O.W.L. year, you wait, they're somethin' really special."

"Erm... special in what way?"

"I'm not sayin'. I don' want ter spoil the surprise."

"Look, Hagrid," Hermione said tensely, "Professor Umbridge won't be at all happy if you bring anything to class that's too dangerous —"

"Dangerous? Don' be silly, I wouldn' give yeh anythin' dangerous! I mean, all righ', they can look after themselves —"

"Hagrid, you've got to pass Umbridge's inspection, and to do that it would really be better if she saw you teaching us how to look after porlocks, how to tell the difference between knarls and hedgehogs, stuff like that!"

"But tha's not very interestin', Hermione. The stuff I've got's much more impressive, I've bin bringin' 'em on fer years, I reckon I've got the on'y domestic herd in Britain —"

"What now?" Mel asked in fear.

"Hagrid... please... Umbridge is looking for any excuse to get rid of teachers she thinks are too close to Dumbledore. Please, Hagrid, teach us something dull that's bound to come up in our O.W.L..."

"Lis'en, it's bin a long day an' it's late," He said tiredly patting Hermione on the shoulder. "Oh — sorry —" He stopped when he noticed he was forcing her to almost kneel. "Look, don' you go worryin' abou' me, I promise yeh I've got really good stuff planned fer yer lessons now I'm back... Now you lot had better get back up to the castle, an' don' forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!"

As they made their way back, Ron spoke.

"I dunno if you got through to him, 'Mione..."

"Then I'll go back again tomorrow," said Hermione determinedly, then looked at Mel. "You with me. We'll plan his lessons for him if we have to. I don't care if she throws out Trelawney but she's not taking Hagrid!"

"I agree with you," Mel sighed. "I guess I could help you by keeping Umbridge busy with other stuff."

"Like what?" Ron raised a brow.

"Maybe it's time I take your brothers' offer..." She said quietly.

Fred caught up with her before breakfast that Sunday.

"Hi," She said awkwardly. It was her first time talking to him after the Quidditch match. "What's up?"

"I just..." Fred started, "we never set a time for our... you know?"

"Oh," She grimaced, looking around the Great Hall. "Right."

"Is it okay if we have it today?"

"Right now?"

"After breakfast?" He shrugged.

"Okay?"

Fred wasn't doing anything that could be taken as inappropriate but he was, however, sitting far from his twin and Lee Jordan, which was extremely rare. No one had tried to sit on the empty place next to her, which let her know people was definitely avoiding them.

"Fred?"

"Hmm?" He replied chewing.

"Does everyone know what we did?"

Fred snorted, swallowing his food and smirking.

"Was it supposed to be secret? Sorry lady, but if you kiss someone in the middle of the Quidditch field, people will see you."

"Not always though," She mumbled.

"What?"

"I don't understand why are they being so weird!" Mel frowned. "It was just a stupid kiss! We didn't turn into aliens or anything..."

"What's an alien?"

"Nevermind that," She pushed her plate away. "I've lost my appetite..."

"That's unlike you," Fred raised a brow. "You're sure you're okay hanging out after this? If you're not feeling well–"

"It's not that," She said. "I just... I don't like it when they stare at me like that."

"If it makes you feel better, they're all staring at me. They hate me."

"Pfft–" Mel snorted. "How could anyone hate you?"

"It's true!" He said. "They hate me because you kissed me, you didn't choose them."

"What a terrible loss that must be!" Mel said dramatically. "All those broken hearts!"

"Half the school hates you too," Fred added teasingly.

"I know that," Mel smirked. "But what's the reason now?"

"Because you snatched me away from them!" It was Fred's turn to be dramatic. "I had thousands of options but you've stolen my first kiss! Now I belong to you, I can't do anything about it."

"That wasn't your first kiss!" Mel exclaimed.

"It was, I swear!" Then he added cheekily. "It was my first as much as it was yours."

Mel's eyes widened in horror. "Who told you?!"

"Blimey, no one!" Fred's mouth fell open. "I was joking!"

That made her face turn redder.

"Fred!"

"Please, tell me you didn't kiss Flint–"

"I'd never kiss—!" Mel stopped, people were starting to stare more intently now. She continued in an angry whisper. "I didn't kiss Flint!"

"Ron?" Fred scrunched up his nose.

"Knock it off," She groaned.

"Harry?"

"..."

Fred frowned. "I have more questions..."

Mel stood up.

"Time's ticking, Weasley. You better use it wisely."

"You'll clear my doubts?"

"If they're all about Harry, then no," She glanced at him, trying to ignore the whispers as they walked past their classmates. "It would be weird to talk about him with..."

"With whom?" Fred smirked. "One kiss and you're planning our wedding? A bit forward if you ask me—"

"Oh, shut it," Mel rolled her eyes. "Don't you think it's weird?"

"I'm just trying to get to know you," He shrugged. "The romantic side of you– You know, if I'm going to take any part in it..."

"We'll see," She raised a brow. "You're allowed to step out of this if you want and so am I."

"Fine."

Fred continued to walk next to her with ease. He had a soft smile on his face, enjoying himself. Of course he would, he'd always liked the spotlight. Mel was having a more difficult time, this didn't feel like the attention she would get from her friends, this felt like cold analysis, they were measuring her and Fred, trying to form an opinion.

She felt a bitter nostalgia about the way things had unfolded with her and Harry a few months back, this was exactly what they'd managed to avoid, but she had messed up this time.

"So..." She started. "Tell me about your first kiss..."

Once he replied, Fred asked her about hers and she made him promised he wouldn't say a word to anyone, not even George. When Mel finished her story, Fred wasn't that surprised.

"Well, no one caught you kissing or anything," He tilted his head, "We could see there was something going on, but none of us felt the need to confirm it."

"As it should be. Some people are so nosy! Take Skeeter, she gets paid for making up rumours! This wouldn't happen if we could just mind our own business..."

"Life would be boring without a little bit of drama," He nudged her arm playfully.

They sat on a bench, right under one of the trees near the lake. It was cold but not freezing, and they were wearing their robes, so they would be fine for a while before the wind could become a problem.

"My turn again!" Fred said enthusiastically. "Why did you kiss me?"

For some reason, the question caught her off guard. She knew why she'd kissed him, but she didn't want to upset him. Ginny reacted badly when she'd thought Mel was using her brother, how was he going to react?

"I... uh..." Mel fumbled with the end of her scarf, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "You know I'm fickle..."

"Not as much as before! The only times you lose your temper now is when you talk to Harry. Which is weird, because—"

"I know, I know," She huffed exasperatedly. "Because I was always soft around him! Ugh! I know I had him as this knight in shining armour–"

"Knight?" Fred asked with a smirk.

"I won't fall for it again, all right?" Mel crossed her arms, feeling cornered. "I won't let him get to me this time."

Fred's smile faltered.

"Listen, I know you're not one to play with people's feelings," He scratched the back of his head. "That being said, right now it feels like you only kissed me to prove a point..."

"I do like you," She said, gazing at her shoes. "Not that way though... but I think you're funny and nice— Don't let it get over your head, but your flirting was really good too, even if you were joking..."

"I was joking at first, just to get a reaction from Ron's," Fred gave her a small smile. "But then you kissed me... I mean, I'm confused, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try..."

"It could," Mel sighed. "Whatever happened between Harry and me... Fred, I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Me neither," He admitted.

"This is a bad idea..." She reflected. "I don't think I'd make a good girlfriend right now."

Fred stayed quiet for a moment.

"How about we keep it casual?"

"What?"

"We don't have to call ourselves anything if we don't want to."

"What do you mean?" Mel frowned.

"Kind of like... well, you know Eddie Carmichael?"

"Yeah?"

"He has this thing with Lisa Turpin," He moved on his place to face her. "They don't date but... well, they do plenty of things without being exclusive."

"Fred," Mel bit her lip to avoid laughing. "You're asking for a 'friends-with-benefits' thing?"

"No!" He said, then added. "Yes? Well, you don't want to date me!"

"I said I'm not sure!"

"You're in love with Harry," He stated. "Don't deny it. I get it, you were snogging seven months ago—"

"We weren't snogging—"

"You're not someone that takes this lightly. I'm giving you a choice, Mel, if we insist on making things formal when you clearly don't want to be with me like that, things will get messy, but I still want to make you feel better. Going out and having lots of fun is a good way to heal."

"So you're taking one for the team and decided to be the one who shows me what I've been missing?" Mel joked.

"We must make sacrifices once in a while," He sighed. "It hurts me, giving up my virtue, but you're my friend and your wish is my command."

Mel snorted, nudging his side playfully.

"I'm pretty sure I'd heal even if you don't snog the grief out of my body..."

"You're talking nonsense already!" He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Mel. I'll take care of you..."

He cupped her cheeks and kissed all over her face -but stayed far from her mouth- which caused her to laugh in a way she hadn't laughed in months.

"Okay! Okay, I get it!" Mel pushed him away. "We must set ground rules, though."

"How about... since you're still a lovesick mess for Potter, I'll try to keep him off your mind as often as I can, that way you can focus on other things."

"Like you?" She teased.

"Maybe," He smirked. "But also like the D.A.— You're a great teacher, lady. Your students can't have you moping over a boy."

"Okay, but you won't try to kiss me unless I say it's okay."

"Sounds a bit tough," Fred pouted. "You're a good kisser—"

"Also," She continued, speaking a bit louder. "If anyone asks, just say we're dating— even if it's not entirely true, it'll keep a few people away from me and that's wonderful, I don't want their company..."

"You mean Goldstein, don't you?"

"Merlin, the boy is so annoying," Mel murmured.

"You have to help my brother and me with our pranks and products," Before she could argue, he added, "my girlfriend would want to help me succeed! Others might find it strange if you don't spend time with me, they'll think you don't care!"

"They'd be right."

"That's no way to treat your future husband, Lady Dumbledore."

"Finally," She said, standing up and offering her hand to him. "No one can know about this agreement. If we start to date for real at some point... it's our business and our business only. Understood?"

"Yup!" He stood up, holding her hand with a pleased expression. "One last thing?"

"Yes?"

"You can put an end to this anytime," He said. "This is meant to be fun, so if you change your mind or it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me. I promise our friendship will remain intact."

"You can't promise that," Mel said quietly. "You can't know."

"Look at me— I swear it won't change."

She stared at him carefully.

"...We're just fooling around, right? It's nothing serious?"

"Just fooling around," He conceded. "And we can stop anytime you want, just say the word. I only do this for the same reason I asked you last year to the Yule ball. I think we could have a lot of fun."

"This is not the type of fun you were thinking of the first time, right?" She asked doubtfully. Fred laughed.

"Not at all!" He admitted. "But I don't mind this either..."

"Yeah," Mel looked down at their intertwined hands. "I don't mind it much either..."

Mel had to endure the whispering and glances towards her for the rest of the weekend and the entirety of Monday. Fred was having perhaps too much fun with it, and if he was present during the whispering, he would loudly flirt or mess with her.

She was torn between enjoying his attention and mortified at the fact that they were lying to their friends. Sure, they had an agreement, but ever since their talk, Mel had been very careful not to be seen alone with Fred, and she became really quiet about her private life even though all their friends were bombarding her with questions about her 'relationship'.

One thing that she wasn't expecting was Harry's reaction to the whole thing. Sure, she wasn't doing this to watch him throw a tantrum and yell at Fred about betrayal and all, and she couldn't be sure about him not being hurt, but overall, he was handling it with utter indifference.

He would talk to her and share notes while studying or preparing the classes for the D.A. but gone were the hours spent talking about nothing and everything from years prior. Harry was just another classmate.

The others thought that the sight of Mel without Harry was strange, but the pair were warming up to the idea. Truth be told, neither Harry nor her knew what it was to live in the other's shoes anymore.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[sacred-algae]

In celebration of The Great Gatsby entering public domian, I would like to publish an essay I wrote a few years back. Because I hate The Great Gatsby with the burning passion of a thousand suns.

A Character Analysis of The Great Gatsby:

Gatsby, Nick and Daisy

“The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald is often revered as one of the greatest American novels of all time. It makes us take off our rose-colored glasses and look at the rich whom we idolize so much. But are our perspectives of this book also tinted by its title of the great American novel? We are often misdirected in this book to forget many important quotes that change the way we look at the main characters completely. Authors make sure that everything in the book has a purpose. If it was included, it’s important and shouldn't be ignored. Readers often place certain expectations on the characters due to its high status, however, this paper will show that the characters in question are not as they are commonly perceived, whether good or bad, and explore the complex writing behind the characters, Nick, Gatsby, and Daisy.

Although Nick Carraway is seen by many for who he is, arrogant and judgemental, they still miss out on the bigger picture. He glorifies violence and he is a cheater. The problem with Nick and the book is that rather than the book being written by Fitzgerald, it is written by Nick. Because of this, we see him in a glorified manner. The first few lines of the book show this. “In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.” (pg. 3) Using the words “younger”, “vulnerable” and even “father” he immediately ensures that we have his sympathy. He does the same thing again later, and more directly, at the very end of chapter three. “Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.” (pg. 65) This is where most people begin to see his true self shine through. However, it should be seen much earlier. In chapter one he mentions something very sinister. “I participated in that delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe” (pg. 5) Nick says directly to the reader that he enjoyed WWI. Only second to WWII (85,000,000 or 3% of the entire world’s population), WWI is the bloodiest war in world history with a death toll of 16,000,000. 40,000,000 if you include deaths resulting from the Spanish Flu. (statistics from Wikipedia) For someone to enjoy being at war there has to be something majorly wrong with them. Not only that but it can be said with near certainty that Nick was cheating on a girl out west when he had his fling with Jordan. In chapter one after dinner with the Buchanans this conversation tasks place. “As I started my motor Daisy peremptorily called ‘Wait! ‘I forgot to ask you something, and it’s important. We heard you were engaged to a girl out West.’ ‘That’s right,’ corroborated Tom kindly. ‘We heard that you were engaged.’ ‘It’s libel. I’m too poor.’ ‘But we heard it,’ insisted Daisy, surprising me by opening up again in a flower-like way. ‘We heard it from three people so it must be true.’” (pg. 23) For there to be rumors that someone is engaged with someone else it has to be commonly known that they are in a relationship. Nick is a severely flawed, if not evil, character.

Many people strive to be like Jay Gatsby, with his charm and “extraordinary gift for hope.” Even then, the biggest argument of the book is whether or not he truly loves Daisy. Most clues point to no. Gatsby even remarks that “‘Her voice is full of money,’” (pg. 128). He sees her as a prize to be won. He chases her, she’s the final thing he needs to have his perfect life. And during a flashback to his first kiss with her, right before the iconic passage where “she blossomed for him like a flower,” Fitzgerald describes his desire for her like this: “The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.” Possibly the most frightening passage in the book. It sounds like some bestial craving. But that is just his relationship with Daisy. Tom accuses him of bootlegging. “‘I found out what your ‘drug stores’ were.’ He turned to us and spoke rapidly. ‘He and this Wolfshiem bought up a lot of side-street drug stores here and in Chicago and sold grain alcohol over the counter. That’s one of his little stunts. I picked him for a bootlegger the first time I saw him and I wasn’t far wrong.’” (pg.143) We never are told explicitly that this is true but it is left to the reader to decide this. And there is plenty of evidence. When Gatsby is giving Daisy a tour of the mansion we hear him on his side of a phone call. “...the phone rang and Gatsby took up the receiver. ‘Yes…. Well, I can’t talk now…. I can’t talk now, old sport…. I said a SMALL town…. He must know what a small town is…. Well, he’s no use to us if Detroit is his idea of a small town….’” (pg. 100-101) This again isn't explicit but why would the person in question be of no use to him if they think that Detroit is a small town? They need a small town. If it is a big one it is easier for the police to track his business. And after Gatsby dies Nick answers another business call. “...said Chicago was calling...‘This is Slagle speaking....’ ‘Yes?’ The name was unfamiliar. ‘Hell of a note, isn’t it? Get my wire?’ ‘There haven’t been any wires.’ ‘Young Parke’s in trouble,’ he said rapidly. ‘They picked him up when he handed the bonds over the counter. They got a circular from New York giving ‘em the numbers just five minutes before. What d’you know about that, hey? You never can tell in these hick towns——‘ ‘Hello!’ I interrupted breathlessly. ‘Look here—this isn’t Mr. Gatsby. Mr. Gatsby’s dead.’” This is a hint towards Gatsby making money selling counterfeit bonds. A business that he tried to recruit Nick too. “‘Why, I thought—why, look here, old sport, you don’t make much money, do you?’ ‘Not very much.’ This seemed to reassure him and he continued more confidently. ‘I thought you didn’t, if you’ll pardon my—you see, I carry on a little business on the side, a sort of sideline, you understand. And I thought that if you don’t make very much—You’re selling bonds, aren’t you, old sport?’ ‘Trying to.’ ‘Well, this would interest you. It wouldn’t take up much of your time and you might pick up a nice bit of money. It happens to be a rather confidential sort of thing.’” (pg. 88-89) Why is it confidential? Because it’s illegal. Not only is Gatsby’s relationship with Daisy toxic, but he is a mobster. This in itself isn’t problematic, but people may have died because of him, and the book shies past this point.

Daisy Buchanan is hated by most people who read the book. It is said that she is shallow and arrogant. This is a look to the surface. First, it is important to understand Daisy and Tom’s ages. When the book takes place Daisy is 23, Tom is 30. Making Daisy 18 and Tom 25 at the time they were married. While she is legal this marriage is incredibly creepy. She is stuck in a marriage with a racist, cheating, borderline abusive husband. And she knows this. Even then she is brave enough to call him out (and mock him) on his racism in chapter one at dinner. “‘Tom’s getting very profound,’ said Daisy with an expression of unthoughtful sadness. ‘He reads deep books with long words in them. What was that word we——‘ ‘Well, these books are all scientific,’ insisted Tom…” (pg. 16) She’s trapped in a situation where she has no control. She tries to reclaim her life through Gatsby but she quickly learns that he isn’t different. “‘Please don’t.’ Her voice was cold, but the rancour was gone from it. She looked at Gatsby. ‘There, Jay,’ she said— but her hand as she tried to light a cigarette was trembling. Suddenly she threw the cigarette and the burning match on the carpet. ‘Oh, you want too much!’ she cried to Gatsby. ‘I love you now—isn’t that enough? I can’t help what’s past.’ She began to sob helplessly. ‘I did love him once—but I loved you too.’” (pg. 141-142). Daisy lives in a society where women are seen and not heard. She knows this but still does what she can to speak for herself. She is incredibly smart. People don’t give her enough credit. Take the iconic line, “Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.’” (pg. 20)

She is smart enough to see what is happening around her and it breaks her, that's why she wants her daughter to be a fool. She’ll never have to question it, she’ll never know it, she’ll always be happy.

“The Great Gatsby” indeed is a great book. One with deeply complex characters. But we need to take a second look at them, not just accept what others tell us. Because of its high status, the characters of “The Great Gatsby” are often subject to preconceived notions, through discussing and analyzing quotes in the book you can begin to see both sides of Nick, Gatsby, and Daisy. When we see someone say something about them, or any person, or anything, question it. As the great Albert Einstein once said-“The important thing is to never stop questioning.”

We need to stop idolizing Nick and Gatsby, and stop victim blaming Daisy. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[edwardslostalchemy]

1) ice skating dates! i like Shouto not knowing how to skate so Izuku shows him and the reverse as well! 2) As pro heroes they leave dumb hints on the internet about their relationship! like really dumb though. Shouto just has a social media account that's called Pro_Hero_Deku's_Husband and just posts candid pictures of Izuku. everyone thinks the user is a crazy stalker, but its just Shouto. 3) in highschool Shouto would be taller for kisses, but then when they get older Izuku is the taller one

(I am going to post several of the messages I have received together! Thank you for sending them in! These made me very happy!)

ultragayturtlepride said:

this isn't really tododeku BUT i think is a funny thought. Shouto is actually left handed but learned to write with his right hand just to spite his father. okay back to Tododeku. I've always had this idea (and i might have said this already i don't know) Izuku accidentally confesses to Shouto by writing something about him in his analysis journal then one day Shouto asks to look at what Izuku wrote about him to see what he needs to improve 1/2

2/2 Shouto looks through it to see what he needs to improve on. Izuku has forgotten what he wrote and when they study together (or Shouto looks through it alone) he sees what was written about him. blushes, fluff, mumbling words, and a proper confession follow

Izuku and Shouto have had many dates at Dagobah Beach. I like to think that if one of them proposed in a proper way it would be there. If they didn't get engaged there, it would be either in the middle of a battle when they think their going to die, or when Izuku is in the hospital (Izuku proposes only in this situation) after a life threatening battle

@da-crazy-fangirl said:

1. Todoroki starts doing deku’s tie for him because he can’t do it very well himself, 2. Deku gets every freckle kissed every night (mom called freckles angel kisses), 3. Todoroki actually is able to boost dekus confidence, 4. The whole autism thing, deku helps todoroki understand emotions and empathy 5. Todoroki is massive emotional help for deku because of his hyper empathy, 6. Deku finds food that aren’t cold soba that todo will like the texture and temperature of for todoroki

Anonymous said:

Just gonna throw this out there - Tododeku as sleeping beauty. But the version where the “beauty” sleeps a hundred years and wakes up in a different world but falls in love with the prince who woke them up. The prince helps them with culture shock and also finds their great great nieces and nephews. (Honestly either one could be the “beauty”. Leaning more towards Shouto tho so he can balance out the sad of having his family gone with “fuck yeah my dads dead”)

Anonymous said:

I know we all talk about how much of a conspiracy theorist Todoroki is. But guess what? So is Midoryia. This is a hero fanatic that takes notes on his heroes and friends abilities and how they operate and you're telling me he doesn't come up with his own theories? That's why they are the ultimate power couple. They support one another's theories and everyone around them is at a lost

Anonymous said:

You know what I think about? That time Todoroki was deciding whether or not to use his fire during his fight with Bakugo, and just when he thinks he made a mistake in his previous match he hears Midoryia shouting “DONT GIVE UP” and just loses his shit. I mean yeah, at the end he still decided to not use it but like how’d you even hear Midoryia in that gigantic stadium where thousands of people are already screaming their heads off? This kid ended up crushing on his rival way too easily

Anonymous said:

I love how Shouto who appears calm cool and collected actually has zero chill like he heard All Might and Midoriya in the same sentence and decided that his rival (crush) was his faves secret child and that he was going to beat his rival (get his attention to show him how amazing he is) and then after they became friends he decided he was never going to leave his side ever again

Anonymous said:

Izuku having nightmares cause of what he's gone through and so he wakes up in the middle of the night and goes downstairs to make tea but Shouto is already down there cause he had a nightmare about Endeavor's abuse and the two of them are trying not to show they're upset so they can comfort their friend and it ends up with the two of them cuddling and crying together until they fall asleep for the rest of the class to find the next morning

Anonymous said:

Izuku and Katsuki are probably gonna intern with Shouto and Endeavor right? So I'm just imagining Izuku and Shouto flirting hardcore and Endeavor is like "my child and this kid?? wtf?!" and Katsuki is like "man you get used to it" and Endeavor wants to be FURIOUS with Shouto but can't cause then Izuku does something goofy or badass or anything at all and Shouto's entire face goes bright red and he smiles so fondly and softly and Endeavor is like "OH SHIT"

Anonymous said:

Vigilante quirkless Izuku who started at 14 when All Might said to give it up cause hes stubborn and was like imma prove you wrong and becomes pretty famous he runs into and possibly saves AM one night and AM was like "I should've just had you as my successor" and he takes Izuku under his wing then to train him (could also be tododeku cause Izuku fights alongside Shouto at some point or saves his life and tells him to fuck off and use his full power and Shouto falls in love right there)

Anonymous said:

Oooooo but its canon that Izuku is the one that Shouto smiles for and he just comes out and says it to all of 1a and Izuku is just so happy and flattered and in love when he realizes it and he gets all wide smiled and crinkly eyed and Shouto just falls in love even more

Anonymous said:

We don't see a lot of Toga and Todoroki confrontations when it comes to Deku in this fandom. I do have this fic in mind that Toga manages to steal Todoroki's blood cause she figured she could get close to Deku but Deku just automatically recognized that this wasnt his Todoroki. ALSO I'm pretty sure real Todoroki would be pissed if he found out how often Toga places herself ontop of Midoryia

Anonymous said:

During the whole Stain fight I figured Shoto didnt have the time to even notice. But when Izuku started showing off his moves in that class race after their internships, I loved his expression like, "omg how did I not process this beautiful site before me". Izuku comes in with a new suit, glowing neon green energy bolts surrounding him, his eyes also illuminate. And Shoto thinks about that a lot

Anonymous said:

Lmao Katsuki tryna get Shouto's attention about whatever and Shouto is just like "Izuku 😊💖" and Katsuki is like "STOP IGNORING ME" and Shouto is like "Izuku the wind really picked up huh? Kinda loud today?"

Anonymous said:

Izuku is teaching Shouto to cook and as you said has him peeling veggies at first right? So Shouto is like "I'm gonna be the best veggie peeler EVER" cause he wants to impress his man but he's too focused on Izuku and he cuts himself so he's all embarrassed and Izuku is like "OH NO SHOUTO ARE YOU OK" and so he cleans Shouto's cut and bandages it up and then he presses a small kiss to it and Shouto is DYING and Izuku is like "that's what my mom always does when I get hurt"

Anonymous said:

Shouto oversharing to Izuku during the Sports Festival and having Izuku see him as an equal and a rival and expecting him to be his best for no one but himself: "I really hope this doesn't awaken anything in me"

Anonymous said:

Shouto is like "You're my rival because you're All Might's successor!" and Izuku is like "Cool so you're one of my best friends now and how would you like to go to a date to kick some villain ass" and Shouto's like "......ok but next time we go on a date I get to choose and it's gonna be saving some asshole's life"

Anonymous said:

Sometimes (all the time) I think about how Izuku legit tore apart his body and broke half his bones just to help Shouto and show him he is way more than just endeavor and I AM SONBING RN 😭😭😭😭 WHAT DID WE DO TO GET 2 PURE BOYS FILLED WITH SO MUCH LOVE

Anonymous said:

Izuku and Shouto are each other's first kiss. Izuku googling how to kiss to make sure he does it right and even asking Katsuki (who he knew had kissed Kirishima at least once) for advice

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com 7/?

Author’s notes: So this one is a little longer than usual, but not by much. Lot’s of stuff happening and I’d love feedback about the direction I’m taking this. I’m always open to suggestions!

Wordcount: 3524

Warnings: one F. bomb, but other than that, lots and lots of fluff.

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

Lilah was supposed finishing her breakfast and getting ready to go to work, but instead, she was browsing the New York Film Academy page, especially the Master of Arts in screenwriting and its admission application.

She didn’t even know why she was doing it. It wasn’t like Lilah was actually considering applying for it. She already had a master’s degree. Not only that, she already had a career that she spent the last ten years of her life investing in. This was just a stupid pipe dream and nothing more.

“Morning”, Isaac’s voice started Lilah out of her thoughts, and she hurried to close her laptop lid and turn to watch as he padded into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee, still on his PJs.

“Morning. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?” Usually, Isaac worked from 8 to five or later whenever needed.

“We had some night shooting yesterday and it wrapped up around six,” he replied yawning and dropping on the chair in front of her, cradling his mug. “I’ve just gotten back and I’m planning on sleeping all morning.”

“Jesus! That’s some horrible hours,” Lilah commented with a wince and Isaac just nodded.

“And I’m one of the lucky ones because all the runners take turns helping out while the others take a nap. I don’t know how Keanu does it. The guy is a machine. But this was my last day anyway.”

“Wait, what?” Lilah asked surprised. “You quitted?”

“Yeah. It was good money, but it was getting in the way of rehearsals, both theater, and band.”

“Band? What band?” Lilah looked at him confused. Why didn’t she know about this?

“Oh right! You didn’t come to my last gig,” Isaac said and there wasn’t any accusation on his tone, but Lilah still felt bad. She had been with Keanu last weekend and missed his performance. “These guys liked my vocals and asked me if I was interested in joining their band. I said yes.”

“But what about musical theater and the Hollywood dream?” she asked, her eyes wide. How come she missed such a change in her friend’s life? Isaac just shrugged.

“I’m still doing theater, but you know I love to be on the stage too and these guys have a great sound,” he said draining his mug and picking up Lilah’s breakfast dishes to bring to the kitchen. “And I can still take on Hollywood in a different way. But to do that, I need time to rehearsal. So as of Monday, you’re looking at the newest barista for Novelsy.”

Lilah was at a loss of words faced with so many changes in Isaac’s life in such a short period of time. She was being a lousy friend, focusing too much on her own issues and missing Isaac’s and Jean’s lives.

“Oh. I know that look,” he said with a frown. “It’s the ‘I’m having a freak out’ look. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Isaac asked, tapping her temple gently.

“I just…” Lilah sighed. “I can’t believe I ended up missing so much in these last few weeks. I’m sorry.”

“Well, you have been a little self-absorbed lately,” Isaac pointed out with a small grimace. “But I get it. It’s the thrill of new love and all that.”

It was weird how Isaac’s words managed to be exactly right, but the truth behind them still took her by surprise. Because no matter how hard Lilah tried to fight it or pretend otherwise, she was in love with Keanu. Had been for a while now and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Oh honey,” Isaac sighed, catching her wide-eyed gaze. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, but when it comes to your own feelings…”

And could she really argue with that? It was staring her in the face this whole time and Lilah didn’t see it. Well, no, that wasn’t quite right, was it? She refused to see it because she was afraid. Afraid of what it could be and where it would lead and how it would end.

And this was so no what Lilah signed up for when started this thing with Keanu. Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. She kept repeating that he was her friend and that was all but none of her friendships ever felt like this. And to be fair, considering how sweet, humble, caring, intelligent and amazing Keanu was, did she even stand a chance of not falling in love?

“Are we having a meltdown at this time in the morning?” Jean asked in a yawn and filling a cup of coffee for herself.

“The penny finally dropped on the Keanu thing,” Isaac informed.

“Thank fuck! The oblivious thing was cute at the beginning, but it was starting to get annoying,” Jean said, her harsh words shaking Lilah from her daze. “Also, not fun to get kicked off my own place so you could have your little ‘not a date’ with Keanu.”

“I never kicked you out of the apartment!” Lilah complained, glaring at her friend and Jean rolled her eyes.

“Right. Because I wanna be here when you two are making heart eyes at each other. No, thank you.”

“Jean!” Isaac chided cutting her off. “There were a dozen ways you could’ve said that without coming off like a bitch.”

From the corner of her eye, Lilah saw Jean cross her arms over her chest, her lips pulling in a thin line of displeasure. She hated to be called out over her bluntness.

“But even though she could have phrased better,” Isaac continued, looking over at Lilah. “Keanu has been coming over a lot. Not that I mind, but it does take away some of our privacy, you know?”

Lilah sighed and nodded. He had a point. They both did. Lilah never thought she would be one of those people that ditched her friends the second they started dating. Not that she was dating Keanu but…

“I’m sorry. I’ve been a shitty friend.”

“A little bit,” Jean agreed, but Lilah could see she was fighting a smile. “But we still love you.”

“We do,” Isaac agreed with a grin. “And you can start making up for the lost time by coming to my band’s gig this Friday night.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lilah assured, kissing his cheek. “Now get your ass in bed! You look exhausted.”

Isaac nodded and waved at them both, before disappearing into his bedroom. Lilah hesitated for a moment, before glancing at Jean, who was inconspicuously avoiding looking her way.

“Are we ok?” Lilah asked and Jean nodded with a sigh.

“I missed my friend, you know? I missed talking to you, knowing what was going on in your life and sharing mine.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said, dragging Jean for a hug. “How about tomorrow, after my class, you and I get some retail therapy? Novelsy’s costume contest is next week after all.”

“A girl after my own heart,” Jean joked with a grin. “It’s a date.”

“Alright,” Lilah replied with a chuckle as she got up and head to her own bedroom.

She went to turn off her laptop, Lilah was confronted once more with the New York Film Academy page, which made her pause. When she told Keanu how she considered going to film school as a teenager, Lilah didn’t give him the full picture.

The idea of being a writer, creating stories and universes, especially movies, had always been a dream. She remembered reading The Lord of the Rings for the first time and having that mix of fascination and jealousy of Tolkien for being able to create such a fantastic, magical universe that entertained so many people. Lilah wanted to do that too. Leave a mark in the world, tell a story, make people laugh and cry and love that thing she created.

But Lilah also remembered how her father reacted when she said she wanted to apply for film school. He had actually laughed because he thought she was joking. She knew he didn’t do it to hurt her. He was looking out for her, wanting her to be practical about her future.

What were the odds of Lilah making it in that industry? One in a million considering that she was a woman of color? Considering that it wasn’t all depending on hard work? Was she even good enough to begin with? Well, there was one quick way to find out.

Her eyes shifted back to the computer and Lilah took a seat, browsing her archives. Writing samples were required for submission, a fictional piece and a non-fictional.

She could use one of the reviews she wrote for Novelsy’s blog as a non-fiction sample. Lilah had gotten positive feedback from those. The fiction piece would give her a bit more trouble and after some more searching, Lilah decided on a fantasy story she wrote during college.

Lilah would need to work out a few kinks, but she really liked that one, so she put on her headphones blasting some of her favorite music as the story poured out of her, her fingers flying over the keyboard in a way she never managed to do whenever she was writing her dissertation.

By the end of the morning, Lilah had close to five thousand words written and any thought prepping her class for tomorrow slip her mind, but Lilah didn’t feel guilty at all. There was only excitement as she proofread her material.

After she annexed the documents, Lilah rechecked the application form, hesitating over the campus options.  For a second, the cursor hovered over the LA option, before she selected the NY campus and submitted everything.

Lilah must be crazy for even considering LA. Even if for brief seconds. Her life was in New York. LA had nothing to offer her. Which was a lie, she knew, but fortunately, it was one easy to ignore.

Once that was taken care of, Lilah started to get ready to go to NYU. She had some data she needed to run through the analysis software and Lilah could only do it on campus. She was halfway through getting dressed when her phone rang, the screen showing Keanu’s name and selfie with the puppy beagle.

“Hey,” she greeted as how could Lilah have missed being in love with him for this long when just a phone call from him could brighten up her whole day? “How was filming last night?”

“It was good. Tiring, but good. Basil gave us the night off since we’re managing to keep up with the schedule,” Keanu replied, and Lilah could actually picture his proud smile. “I was thinking we could do something. Since I cut off our movie night short yesterday.”

“We don’t have to,” she said, reminded of Isaac’s comment earlier. “You must be exhausted.”

“A little bit, but…” he paused for a moment. “I want to see you.”

His voice was soft barely a whisper and it almost felt a little like a confession and it set the butterflies loose in her belly and she smiled.

“Well, we could watch something, get some pizza…”

“That sounds great. I’ll drop by later?”

“Sure, but promise to get some rest first?”

“I’m in bed right now. Don’t worry.”

And Lilah couldn’t help but conjure a picture of Keanu shirtless in bed, dark hair splayed over the pillow and hooded eyes. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Good,” she croaked as she tried recomposing herself. “Sleep well.”  

It wasn’t until she hung up that Lilah realized what she had just done and winced. She was such a terrible friend, but now it was too late. She knew Isaac wouldn’t mind. He would be out rehearsing anyway, but Jean…

Lilah stepped out of the room, finding Jean cleaning the breakfast dishes. She hesitated by the counter, drumming her fingers on the top and Jean heaved a sigh.

“What did you do?” she asked, turning around, hands on her hips.

“I might have invited Keanu over,” Lilah replied with a grimace and Jean rolled her eyes. “Sorry!”

“Fine! But only because I have to do inventory anyway.” Lilah let out a happy squeal and squeezed Jean in a hug. “And you’re helping me with the Halloween contest! It was your idea after all.”

“I promise! Thank you!”

Lilah said her goodbyes to Jean and headed out, doing her best to push thoughts on Keanu and her brand-new revelation aside while she worked, managing to be somewhat successful until she got back home to find Keanu, browsing through her bookcase, dressing in a fitted jeans and a t-shirt so tight it seemed to be struggling to contain his biceps.

“Hi,” she greeted, and Keanu flashing her a warm smile.

“Hi. Isaac let me in. That’s ok, right?”

“Of course. I’ll be right with you. I’m just gonna take just a quick shower.”

“Sure.”

Lilah dropped her things in her bedroom and hurried to the bathroom that she shared with Isaac. There was only one suite in the apartment and Jean claimed it since the place was hers after all.  

She went through her usual shower routine, but it wasn’t until Lilah was drying herself that she realized she didn’t bring any clothes with her. Lilah was just so used to shower and then go back to her room to change it kind of became a habit.

If it was Isaac or Jean outside, Lilah wouldn’t even hesitate to step out, but it wasn’t them. It was Keanu and she would have to walk past him to go back to her room.

There was nothing else she could do at this point, so with a deep breath, Lilah pulled the towel tighter against her body, making sure that there wasn’t anything showing before she walked out, refusing to look his way. She did, however, hear his sharp intake of breath disguised as a cough.

Once she was safe inside her room Lilah leaned against the door and let out a sigh. She just paraded in a towel in front of Keanu! Shit! Did he look? She wondered for a second but shook herself out of it. That would lead her nowhere. Instead, she focused on getting dressed, coming back to the living room to find Keanu on the phone. He gave her an apologetic smile as his attention returned to the call.

“My publicist. Sorry about that,” Keanu said, hanging up. “But I’m all yours now.” Lilah couldn’t help her wide grin at the way Keanu took a second to realize what he said and cursed under his breath. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” she chuckled. “It’s nice to be on the other side of those for a change.”

Keanu chuckled too, rubbing his nape in embarrassment and part of Lilah want to reach for him, pull him in a hug and a kiss, but that was a very dangerous line of thought so instead, she picked up the pizza menu.

“So, I have a very important thing to ask you,” she started with a somber voice. “It might define if this,” she gestured between them. “Will continue any further.”

“I’m already nervous,” he quipped, turning to look at her better.

“How do you feel about pineapple on pizza?” She inquired and Keanu shook his head in disbelief as he chuckled. “Oh, I’m serious. There is a right answer to this.”

“I don’t like it?” he replied with a hesitant smile and Lilah gaped at him in exaggerated horror

“And you call yourself Hawaiian!” she teased, clicking her tongue in disappointment and making Keanu laugh.

“You do know that Hawaiian pizza isn’t really Hawaiian, right?” He commented and she rolled her eyes.

“Fake Canadian then,” she shot back, sticking her tongue out at him and Keanu snorted in amusement. “Pepperoni?”

“Sure,” he agreed. Lilah called in their order before joining Keanu on the couch.

“So you’re going to Japan?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah. 47 Ronin’s premiere,” Keanu explained, and Lilah just hummed, avoiding his eyes. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You have a very expressive face, Bennett,” he said, and Lilah laughed.

“I don’t want to judge a movie based only on a trailer,” she started hesitantly.

“But you didn’t like it,” he completed with a chuckle.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, I just… Let’s just say Hollywood doesn’t exactly have a great track record on portraying other cultures.”

“You have a point,” Keanu relented, and Lilah was glad to see he didn’t seem upset with her comment. “We did our best to show respect for Japanese culture and the legend, though.”

“I’m sure you did. This is ok, right? Talking about your movies?”

“It’s fine. I like talking about what I do,” he assured, and she grinned.

“So, I can ask about John Wick? Because I still don’t know what’s about even though I’m technically in it?”

Keanu chuckled and quickly explained the general plot for the movie, hands waving around excitedly as he described the entire process behind getting the movie greenlighted and getting his friends Chad and David involved.

Lilah could tell not only how much Keanu loved what he did by the way he was smiling, by the eagerness in his voice, but she could also see that this wasn’t any movie for him. She hung onto every word of his, chin on her head and her chest felt about to burst at the overwhelming affection Lilah felt for him.

After a moment, Keanu fell silent and he once again did that ducked head, hand covering the mouth chuckle that Lilah learned to associate to him being shy or embarrassed about something.

And maybe he saw it in her eyes, so she quickly looked away. The last thing Lilah needed was Keanu catching on to her feelings and making everything awkward between them. She had come to enjoy their time together too much.

It was a bit of a relief when the pizza finally arrived because it gave them something else to focus on, beside themselves.

“You can try the Hawaiian if you want,” she offered after they moved to the couch to eat, a random movie playing on the TV just for noise. “I’m the only one who likes it in this house.”

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s really good,” she said in a sing-song voice and Keanu snorted.

“You’re gonna annoy me into trying, aren’t you?” He asked with a sigh that really wasn’t annoyed at all. Lilah just nodded with a grin. “Fine. Give it here.”

Lilah didn’t know why she didn’t just hand him the slice. Instead, she moved closer and lifted it in front of him. Keanu hesitated briefly before he took a bite, lips brushing against her fingers as he did it. It sent shivers down her spine because Lilah hadn’t expected it to feel this intimate.

“And?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“It was better than I was expecting,” Keanu admitted sipping his beer and Lilah grinned. Small victories.

She brought the slice back to herself, but before she could take a bite, Keanu leaned forward and stole the last bit. The movement brought him so close his beard actually brushed again her cheek.

“Hey!” Lilah protested as he grinned smugly.

“You’re the one that wanted me to try it,” he pointed out, bumping his shoulder against hers. Lilah shook her head and picked up another slice, trying to hide her pleased grin.

They talked for a while longer, completely ignoring the TV. It was fun and comfortable, and Lilah knew she could probably spend the entire night like that, but it was getting late and she knew Keanu had to work tomorrow and so did she.

“I think we should call it a night,” she said, turning off the TV.

“We didn’t watch anything,” he pointed out and Lilah shrugged.

“It was still fun. I like just talking to you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Keanu replied, his lips tugging on a smile as he helped her clean up.

“So, Novelsy’s hosting its first costume contest next week. Afterward, Isaac’s theater group is reenacting Rocky Horror Picture Show in this bar. It’s basically a bunch of drunk people singing along to the songs, trying to remember their lines and failing miserably. It’s really fun, do you wanna come?”

“Sure,” Keanu agreed, and Lilah could see the doubt in his eyes, that was quickly replaced with a curious smile. “Are you gonna be in costume?”

“Definitely,” she replied, as she looked at him under her lashes. “Gotta be there to know what it is though.”

“Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

There was something in the way that Keanu said it, the way he was looking at her that just stole her breath, making her heart thunder in her chest and there was no way to see this as anything other than flirting.

“See you on Thursday, then,” she said, standing up to press a kiss on his cheek. She barely missed his lips and she really hoped Keanu noticed it was on purpose.

(tbc)

Go to part 8

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[nomdeguerreblogs]

Anon said…

Thank you for all the great analysis you put out there for us to dive into and enjoy! … I’ve been wondering for a long time about how you visualize the 2 years between s2 and s3? I’m talking about the tommy x grace dinamic/story. I would love to hear about your take on it xx

Hi anon! Sorry this has taken ages but the truth is you stumped me. I don’t visualise what went on then largely because I’m still really sad about s3 and kind of in denial that it ever existed. I’m pleased you liked the fic because it was my answer to that. Another way I’m dealing with it is channeling anger, I wrote thousands of words about how Peaky has undermined one of its plot threads by failing to deliver anything that felt authentic and real between the main romantic coupling when it had the chance. But it doesn’t feel that useful in this context, maybe. Anyway, what follows is the meta fill-in-the-gaps approach (plus a bit of indulgent headcanon) because what Peaky shows is only a part of what Peaky is, and it keeps telling us those years must have been golden, so. Here goes…

Episode 2.06 is for Tommy and Grace a recontextualisation of 1.06, and I think you could assume that “When you get back from the races I won’t be here,” becomes her staying and waiting by that tent until he gets there. The relief and joy is palpable. He talks Grace down from the ceiling after the delay and her confrontation with May and she relents because he’s so earnest and shattered. “That could change” becomes some kind of proposal, and the ‘all my love’ of the letter becomes words spilling from his mouth. It’s decided that Grace will pursue a divorce with Clive (who probably returns to the US while she stays, any sense of social propriety now definitely out the window). Tommy trots off to the office all buoyant and Alex Turner and announces his intentions of marriage to Michael (who probably thinks he’s gone utterly barmy). Then Tommy sorts out those bookies’ licences burned at Epsom and the Shelbys are quids in. Legal. And BOOM! Fucking everything: a legitimate (if slightly shady) way to make piles of cash, like he always wanted and promised Grace in 1919; and a life with the woman he loves who is carrying his child. Arrow House (suggesting the inevitability of Cupid’s dart, also the kingly pursuit of hunting which is relevant for other reasons) is purchased and is appropriately impressive (as well as rubbing the wealth of the nouveau riche in the faces of the gentry who needed to sell, something which would have no doubt pleased him - remember the ‘more money than all those toffs combined’ line).

Now you need to delve into imagination - Tommy and Grace live in Arrow House in sin. And like at the first series Garrison, she’s always there when he returns from somewhere to talk, and now kiss and hold. His domestic idyll come true. They talk about everything and nothing. They help each other in ways intentional and tangible - she does the Foundation, he does the racetracks; and ways ineffable. There is laughter. They ride horses, gallop across fields and jump streams feeling free and wild. They sip tea and read the papers. Sometimes they put a record on the gramophone and dance together. They go to the races and soirees and drink Champagne and sparkle and are almost never not touching somehow. He is incredibly proud to be with her. She lifts and lights him as he brings her to earth. They make love like it’s sacred and rise clean as air; pulse on pulse and breath on breath they become part of each other. They sleep softly and wake some mornings to the song of blackbirds - a sound that once gave Tommy hope at the mouth of a tunnel when light and oxygen hit his body after a long shift underground with the rats and smell of the dead. Hearing the sound in her arms brings him a profound sense of peace. Tommy is there when she gives birth and experiences that intense connection to his family (that was denied to Freddie and Ada *cough*); he’s a supportive husband while Grace struggles with the next few months of exhaustion. They sit for portraits. These are halcyon days in the bleak midwinter of existence. (I recognise I’ve written this largely from Tommy’s perspective but I don’t think there’s really any choice because we are talking about how it figures in his memory).

At some point, a trip to New York features and Clive kills himself, making the need for divorce redundant. Arthur is there with them and the suicide is a teeny bit murky, as is who knows about it. I suspect the trip happens towards the end of the Time Gap and finally paves the way for the wedding telegraphed in 1922. They are clearly together and happy in that photo in front of the Statue of Liberty (which possibly suggests their freedom to do what they want to because this is SK after all). And they get married, about a year after Charlie’s birth, on 26th December 1923 with a big noisy family ceremony because apparently Grace wanted it (I think it’s way more in Tommy’s character history to be the one wanting a public spectacle, and Grace’s cuckoldery would have made her wary of such things, but whatever). And we rejoin their story on this day, when the past is catching up like a steam train and Tommy can’t keep it out, because he was and is a criminal. We rejoin them cementing fucking everything in vows and, because theirs is a love story which relies on distance and uncertainty for tension, there is suddenly nowhere for their narrative to go. So Grace is killed the next episode. This is Tommy’s story. And he will need her, miss her, crave her until he joins her in the afterlife.

[anistarrose]

I’ve been thinking about axolotls lately — specifically, about how they experience neoteny, the delayed development of adult traits. In the case of axolotls, it means that unlike most salamanders, they don’t undergo metamorphosis under normal circumstances. In simpler words, you could say that axolotls don’t grow up.

And that struck me as an interesting parallel (or perhaps foil) to a number of different characters from Gravity Falls whose feelings about “growing up” are explored within the show — most obviously Dipper and Mabel, but I’d argue Bill Cipher as well. I don’t think the writers necessarily chose to include the Axolotl for this reason (if anything, it was probably just for the association with Xolotl, the Aztec god of twins), but I think I’m going to take a crack at interpreting it anyway.

When I talk about Gravity Falls, I often find myself approaching character analysis from the perspective of foils, of characters written to contrast so that their contrasting traits are highlighted — and who better to contrast with the Axolotl than Bill Cipher? Both are indescribably ancient, powerful entities, but as Ford speculates in the blacklight journal, they’re also opposites: one firmly aligned with good, and the other with evil.

If beings of such evil can exist in the cosmos, could there possibly be other beings of equal and opposite good?

But despite those stark differences, there's one more piece of common ground they share, one more point of similarity from which they diverge: that notion of not growing up. 

When asked in an interview why Bill was so mad at the world, Hirsch replied:

Why is Bill so mad at the world? I think there’s a lot of people where you can ask, “Why are they so mad at the world?” I think Bill is angry at the world for the same reason that anyone sometimes can get mad at the world. Everyone has days where they don’t get their way, where you have to go to bed early or you have too much homework to do or you can’t eat the candy that you want or you miss your favorite TV show and, in those moments, you just want to tear the whole world down.

Bill is a character who has been around for countless billions of eons, but he hasn’t grown up in that time. He’s a character who has accumulated many frustrations, many moments of destruction like that, and they’ve built up over time. Now he’s decided that he wants a world where there is no homework, where there is no bedtime—where you can eat any candy you want, and you can do anything you want. But because he is such a crazy guy, when he does anything he wants, it turns out to be terrifying. So I think little frustrations over thousands of years have built him into a sort of spoiled brat. And he takes it out on the world, and it’s up to our heroes to finally teach him some rules.

Bill is ancient yet immature, so powerful that he expects he can tear down any rules that stand in his way — and when he can’t, he grows incredibly angry.

[Image description: Bill has an angry expression as he looks through a hole in the roof of the Fearamid, having just seen his Henchmaniacs being stopped from leaving Gravity Falls.]

When he realizes he’s trapped in Gravity Falls, he throws a violent tantrum, and in the deleted scenes, he even takes out his anger on the Henchmaniacs. Bill is every reason why one should grow up, everything one should outgrow: the childish selfishness, the lack of emotional maturity, the throwing a tantrum every time things don’t go your way, the desire to tear the whole world down in response to the injustices (perceived or real) that it throws at you.

Then on the other hand, there’s the Axolotl. It exists in the time and space between time and space, in a childlike, unmetamorphosed form that transcends the flow of time itself — practically the epitome of eternal youth. But that said, the Axolotl is a benevolent god, and its way of “not growing up” couldn’t be more different from Bill’s.

[Image description: Picture from the Time Pirates’ Treasure book. Dipper and Mabel are wearing space suits and helmets and floating in a dimension of pink and blue clouds. They face the Axolotl, who takes up most of the page as it floats among in the clouds and smiles at them.]

The Axolotl is silly, harmlessly and delightfully so. In an often (but understandably) overlooked detail of a heavily analyzed secret page, it offers Dipper and Mabel a beanbag chair, and it laughs as Mabel calls its poem beautiful but a little wordy. 

It teases, but only in the most harmless ways, like counting Mabel’s question about whether it’s a salamander or not as the one question she’s allowed to ask it, or asking Dipper and Mabel their names when it’s suggested to already know Dipper’s name is Mason — unlike Bill, who would gleefully mock Ford for his polydactyly and role in Weirdmageddon, and Dipper for his time as Bill’s puppet and (perceived) inability to fight against a force like Bill.

The Axolotl is an almost inherently absurd and whimsical animal, yet it’s also completely gentle and nonthreatening. It represents the childhood joys that society, on an arbitrary basis, deems unacceptable for adults: the silliness, the optimism, the harmless fun. 

Or, as Stan would say:

But just because you're growing up doesn't mean you have to grow up, you know? I mean, look at me. I'm pushin' seventy and I still eat ice cream for dinner!

Bill represents the side of childishness that should be matured out of, and the Axolotl represents what should be retained. 

(Again, I doubt this was why the crew included the Axolotl in the first place, but it really does mesh beautifully into the show’s themes.)

[abbydraper]

Who Gets a Seat in Peter’s Cockpit?

The bios for this seasons’ Bachelor contestants went live today and I just can’t help myself. My justification for this round is that ABC is finally back to giving me what I want... more than just a “job” title and an age. Yep, this season we are getting the full on, horribly written bios. Which means I have so much more to work with. 

Alayah (unsure of pronunciation) 

After failing 3 times before, Alayah (unsure of pronunciation) was finally crowned Miss Texas this year. And she really likes talking about it. The Bachelor franchise interns that wrote this bio also added a teaser that, “familiar faces” might resurface proving that Alayah (unsure of pronunciation) is batshit, and like, we already had this drama with Caelynn and Hannah last season, so no thank you. She claims her favorite social media platform is Reddit and I hope we learn that she goes deep on Reddit conversations about romantic relationships with wildlife animals, or something.  

 Avonlea (not a real name)

Cattle Rancher by day, runway model by night, Avonlea (not a real name) shares that every time she milks one of her cows, she thanks it for its hard work. That would be like me kissing my laptop any time I finished a press release. Except less strange. She also claims that in her spare time she likes snuggling up by the fire to listen to a good audiobook and I’m interpreting this as an admission that she can’t read.  

Alexa (can you not start fights this season? Get it, that’s an Alexa joke)

Alexa wants us to know that she decided to move to Chicago during a game of heads or tails, and I’m assuming that’s to make us think she’s adventurous and up for anything, but her hometown is Springfield, Ill. and when I Google map the distance between the two cities, it’s a three hour drive. I made the decision to move 3,000 miles away over a mid-day FaceTime with my boss and have never included that in a bio when looking for love. She’s going to require a lot of attention and I’m already annoyed. 

Courtney

Courtney is proud to be a Florida girl, “through and through” which isn’t something anyone should find pride in. She has had a lot of plastic surgery, but is wearing a cross necklace over a mock turtleneck tank top in her Bachelor photo which means she’s boring to talk to, but makes up for it generously in the bedroom. 

Deandra

Why are all of these women from Texas? Was it the last place on the audition city tour? Anyway, Deandra describes herself as an “independent, intelligent” woman, which translates the same way as when a guy describes himself as “funny” on a dating app... no way it’s true. She is a self-proclaimed “famers market aficionado” and that’s not a thing. 

Eunice (also not a name, but could be an allergy medication)

Eunice (also not a name, but could be an allergy medication) really wants to rid herself of the party girl reputation but when asked her favorite country, she responded with “Greece” because she can knock back ouzo like it’s water, so she’ll be the first to chug a bottle of champagne and make a bad joke about Peters cockpit. Kind of like I did in the title of this post. 

Hannah Ann (I really hate when people have two first names)

Hannah Ann (I really hate when people have two first names) looks like she was on a show on the WB called “Teenage Darkness” that was canceled after one season and likely could have been as she still lives at home with her parents. Her “home” (room at her parents) is decorated with artwork that she painted herself. The background on my phone is a picture of me, so I have no room to judge. But I am. 

Jade 

Like 80% of the other contestants, and The Bachelor himself, Jade is a flight attendant. Unlike other flight attendants, Jade claims she is afraid of heights. What a risk taker. She is also a mormon and was divorced at age 22 so there’s a lot to unpack here. No travel pun intended.  

Jasmine

In a single paragraph, we learn that Jasmine wants a guy that can do the impossible (bring her Chick-Fil-A on a Sunday), build her a table, give her babies (but not until they’ve traveled the world together) and doesn’t play video games. Pretty specific list of “musts” from a guy who wears a bandaid on his forehead and gets off to windmills. 

Jenna

I feel like Jenna and Peter are this seasons Ben H. and Lauren B. He’ll fall hard, but wonder if she’s too quiet and reserved and she’ll spend a lot of time telling him she’s super fun while actually being incredibly boring. She has a pet goldfish named George, the most boring name on the planet, and she believes that George, her pet goldfish, gives great advice. That’s all the proof I need to validate my assumptions.

Kiarra

She is a self-proclaimed social butterfly who loves shopping, fashion, style and social media. So she’s here for the Fab, Fit, Fun + Fit Tea Instagram deals. 

Katrina 

Katrina has a hairless cat (her words, not mine) that she does everything with. She claims that she dressed up like her hairless cat for Halloween and I need to see what that looks like. Or maybe I don’t. The cat is named after her favorite Disney princess and at age 28 I don’t think someone should have a favorite Disney princess. Her mom is worried about her biological clock ticking and I think she should be more concerned that Katrina brings her “hairless cat” with her to birthday parties. 

Kelley

Kelley needs a man to take care of her, and her most recent relationship was an “international long distance” lover that paid for her to go to Jordan to see him once or twice a month. So, she had a sugar daddy. She decided to end it because she “couldn’t see herself moving to the Middle East”. Which reads, she found out she was on The Bachelor and had to call it off... for now. She has been to 26 countries, so I’m guessing Mr. Jordan wasn’t her first SD. 

Kelsey

Kelsey is a “professional clothier” in Iowa and that’s not a real thing. She claims she’s had relationship issues in the past but Pilates cured that right up. She says she’s not looking for drama, which means she will cry a lot this season. I hope it doesn’t ruin that spray tan and smokey eye look.  

Kylie 

Kylie is an entertainment sales associate in Santa Monica, which means she probably passes out fliers for nightclubs on the Santa Monica Promenade during the day and is a bottle service girl in Hollywood at night, in hopes that she will be “discovered”. She is looking for that “rom-com kind of love” which translates to auditioning for The Bachelor and then dating in the franchise pool for press when it doesn’t happen with Peter. 

Lauren

The most important part of Lauren’s bio is that she conducts exit interviews with all of her exes to find out what went wrong. Imagine that. Your boyfriend comes over to break up with you and you’re like, “I understand. Are you free Thursday between 1 - 2 so I can document when you became unhappy in this role and why? Want to make sure the next person we hire (I date) doesn’t face the same challenges” and him responding with, “Oh yea, totally. See you at 1:30, Thursday.” I’m pretty sure if I called an ex and asked for a SWOT analysis on our relationship he would say, “Abby, this is exactly the reason things didn’t work out.”  

Lexi

Lexi would rather be buried alive than trapped in a room full of frogs. That’s it. The thought of being buried in the ground, alive and breathing, is more appealing to her than being in a room of small amphibians for a short amount of time. Sounds like a ball of fun.

Madison

Madison really wants you to know that she loves basketball. She would even rather rock a pair of Jordan’s (I think those are basketball shoes) than heels. She also loves Jesus. A lot. And if Peter doesn’t, it will be a technical foul for their love. Sports jokes, am I right? 

Maurissa (not how you spell Marissa)

Maurissa (not how you spell Marissa) broke up with her long-term boyfriend, moved to Atlanta and lost 80 pounds. She will be the one that works out in the morning instead of having a mimosa with the other girls. She says if she hits it off with Peter right away, she plans on going hard, so she’ll be the one to steal him away during every other conversation. She’ll probably make him feel her newfound biceps, too.

Megan

Another flight attendant joins the season. This one has aspirations of visiting Zion which is literally a 5 hour drive from San Francisco, where she lives. Dream big, Megan. I see her making it to hometowns and since her mom is her best friend, she’s going to put Peter through the ringer which will be very difficult for their relationship. Do you think I’ve watched a season or two of this show? Megan also looks like a hybrid of every Bachelorette this franchise has ever had. 

Mykenna

Mykenna is barely out of college and has only been in one relationship, so this will be tough for us all to endure. She is a fashion blogger which isn’t a real job, from Canada, who has a BHAG of starting a charity. For what, we don’t know. Her grandfather proposed to her grandmother after their first date. All of this wrapped up in one person means a lot of tears will be shed. 

Natasha

An event planner from New York (who in New York isn’t an event planner?) Natasha loves her legs and her back because she has a cross and a dagger tattoo there. What do you think inspires someone to get a cross and a dagger tattooed on their legs all the way up to their back? Real question. 

Payton (not how you spell this name) 

1. “Payton (not how you spell this name) is the type of woman who goes into a bar alone and leaves with 100 new best friends”. No she doesn’t. 

2. Payton (not how you spell this name) found out she had a fifth sibling, “thanks to some serious Facebooking”. No she didn’t. 

3. Payton (not how you spell this name) currently lives in her parents’ basement. That explains why she included 1 + 2 in her bio. 

Sarah

I put my thousands of hours watching every iteration on this show that Sarah is in the final three. She is the Whitney B. of Chris Soules’ season. Like, exactly. Job in medicine, sweet looking blonde, thoughtful and targeted responses to bio questions... calling it now. 

Savannah

Savannah has done her research on what makes Bachelor Nation contestants famous, post show. She claims she enjoys shopping at Revolve, a brand that thrives on leveraging former suitresses as influencers. See: JoJo, Kaitlyn, Hannah G., Caelynn, Caila and other misspelled names from Bachelor seasons past. Her indulgence is Vampire Facials, a trend also posted to IG stories from the aforementioned. She refers to herself as the “turtle princess” and I hope that means what I desperately need it to mean. 

Shiann

In her bio, she claims her dating history includes men with wives, men that ghost her and men that like her friends more than they like her. Sounds like Las Vegas (where she lives) to a tee. She will not make it past night one. 

Sydney

Sydney is coming onto the show with a broken heart. Her favorite holiday is Valentine’s Day and her hobbies including planning fantasy vacations for her and her unknown future husband. She will absolutely come out of the limo with a cupcake and a poorly written poem for Peter, that he won’t remember. 

Tammy

Tammy wanted so desperately to be on the mens wrestling team in high school, that when they told her no, she just showed up to all of their practices until they let her...wrestle. She will be interrupting one-on-one time when she’s not supposed to and show up to Peters hotel room unannounced more than once this season. Tammy also has a vanity license plate and the combination of all of this is just too much for me to think about.

Victoria F. (apparently there is more than one Victoria this season) 

She wants it to be known that she likes a man that cries in public and I already do not relate. She also responded to her bio questions with run on sentences so again, I do not relate. Good luck, Victoria F.  

Victoria P. (the second Victoria it seems)

I’m fairly certain I’ve seen Victoria P. in a porn, but either way, she leads with losing her father at a young age, her mother and sister struggling with drug addiction and her boyfriend cheating on her, but she states that nothing upsets her more than finding raisins in her cookies. Like, despite it all, dried grapes really piss Victoria P. off. Priorities. 

What are your thoughts after reading the bios? Will you watch this season? Tell me everything. 

[fallwithmemydear]

I’ve been listening to this lovely song a lot lately, and it recently struck me how remarkably similar it is to the story of Aziraphale and Crowley. It fits so perfectly, in fact, that I’ve decided to analyze the song, line by line, as if it’s being sung by Aziraphale and is from his perspective after the events of the book/show. (I suggest that you listen to the song first before you read my analysis of it, btw.) So without further ado:

ARMY OF ANCIENTS - GOOD OMENS ANALYSIS

An army of ancients could rise from the ground/And tear every nation apart: Obvious reference to Armageddon. The army of ancients rising from the ground is a direct allusion to the hellions and demons below, but I also take the army of ancients to mean an army of angels, too. Considering the style in which the word is sung, it could easily be mistaken for “angels.” And in Good Omens, it’s clear that the angels from which Aziraphale came use somewhat morally gray methods to accomplish their means. They care about winning the war no matter what, and damn the consequences; thus their ascension from the so-called ground, the bottom, Hell.

And I’d still be sitting there counting my cards/Wondering when will it start?: Aziraphale is used to a certain way of life - his comforts, his luxuries, his home - after six thousand years. “Counting my cards” is a reference to a game, one that likely involves gambling. The entire Arrangement with Crowley is definitely a gamble: there’s always a risk that they’ll get caught by their respective Head Offices (and they eventually are).

However, cards could also be referring to the sort of activities Crowley has successfully tempted Aziraphale into over the past millennia - going out for lunch, drinking copious amounts of wine, and maybe even gambling as well. If we go with this interpretation, then Aziraphale is saying that despite the apocalypse, Crowley and I will remain. The line about “wondering when will [Armageddon] start” can also be perceived to mean that Aziraphale is wondering when the real war to end all wars (the one Crowley referenced at the end of Episode Six; “Heaven and Hell against all of us”) is coming.

The oceans and forests could collide into one/And muddy this world in a spark: This references Adam coming into his power. The oceans represent the unknown, the ethereal, the ineffable: myths and conspiracies that Adam reads about in Anathema’s magazines. And the forests represent the world as we know it - a concrete of Adam’s world, anchored in reality; the Them’s hideaway in the forest, where he feels safe and free. The collision of the real with the unreal (as Adam subconsciously makes the unreal a reality) signals that Armageddon is here, the world is ending. The line “and muddy this world in a spark” is a further extension of this metaphor, and refers to the ruination of the world brought forth by the “spark” of Adam’s mind.

And I’d still be sitting there twiddling my thumbs/Wondering when will it start?: Aziraphale does nothing while the so-called apocalypse is happening. This could be a reference to the overall futility of Aziraphale and Crowley’s work during the eleven years leading up to Armageddon (as they influenced the wrong child and all of their work was in vain). Or it could be a reference to his knowledge that there is nothing he can do to stop it.

How did the fox get the raven to crow?: This has to be my absolute favorite line. The fox, typically known as a wily trickster throughout fairytales, represents humanity, and the raven is Crowley, with pitch-black wings. The fox got the raven to crow - change his name from Crawley to Crowley, hide his demonic, inhuman appearance, shade his snake-eyes behind sunglasses. The fox got the raven to “change” its very nature for its sake.

Why, at the creek, did the dog lose the bone?: This, to me, is Aziraphale questioning how he and Crowley lost hold of the true Antichrist, and fixated on Warlock (the wrong boy) for so many years. But it could also be him wondering how Adam managed to win the hellhound over and take him as his pet in a small little dog form. This one is more open to personal interpretation, I think. All of the questions in this song are direct references to either fables (written by Aesop) or biblical passages.

The man could come back on his fiery throne/To measure the feathers and hearts: The hypothetical “man” here has to be referring to a divine being. Whether Aziraphale is talking about Satan or God, however, is I think up to interpretation. “Fiery” would imply that he’s talking about Lucifer, but the act of measuring the feathers and hearts is a reference to Ancient Egyptian myth, where when mortals died, their hearts would be measured on celestial scales against the Feather of Ma’at (who was the goddess of justice) to determine whether their actions made them worthy of passing on to paradise, or Heaven. A being maintaining justice, however, could be God. Regardless of who this being is, Aziraphale says they “could come back,” so it definitely can’t be anyone who walks the earth.

And I’ll still be whistling Dixie alone/Wondering when will it start?: “Dixie” is a song very commonly associated with the south (specifically in the United States) and the Confederacy of the American Civil War. This connects with Aziraphale’s supposed “roots” as the southern pansy, as he’s dubbed by Shadwell. And he’s still wondering when the real war is coming.

I don’t want to wake up/I don’t want to move: This is where the song shifts from its previous pattern. Aziraphale is saying he doesn’t want to wake up from his life of comfort and pleasure; he doesn’t want to leave Earth. He wants to stay and keep enjoying the luxuries (mostly foods) he so wholeheartedly enjoys.

I’ll skip the sermon and stick to the booze/I’m sorry: Aziraphale denounces his faith - he’s on his and Crowley’s side, not Heaven’s - and says he’ll stick to his comforts. He’ll keep drinking with his demon and dining at the Ritz and feeding the ducks in St. James Park. And he apologizes, because of course in a way, he is denouncing himself. He is denouncing what he was created for. He’s announcing his moral grayness and his love for Crowley, the importance he places on staying with his demon above all else - even the greater good.

Well, I’ll take what I want in the dawn’s early light: Aziraphale will take what he wants (often used as a sexual phrase) in the very early morning - again, sexual implications. It can be assumed that Crowley is what he wants, and he no longer has any qualms about making it clear what he wants.

How did the fox get the raven to crow?: Again, how did humans manage to make Crowley change himself - change what Aziraphale loves about him?

Why did the hen pick grains in the snow?: After a fair amount of research, I can’t actually find the exact fable the song is referencing, but I can derive its meaning. Picking grains in the snow seems like a futile, almost pointless task; perhaps Aziraphale sees himself as the (mother) hen, and is asking himself why he and Crowley went to the seemingly pointless trouble of trying to influence the “Antichrist” (Warlock) for so many years, in an attempt to balance him out and raise him to be completely neutral. (The answer, of course, is simple: because Crowley suggested it, and because Aziraphale is absolutely #whipped. So is Crowley.)

Why did the brother bury his gold?: I’ve seen this recorded as “coat” instead of “gold,” which would be a reference to the story of Cain and Abel, in which Cain kills and buries his brother. As God supposedly clothed Adam and Eve in “coats” of animal skins, it can be inferred that the brother in the song buried not his own coat, but Abel’s.

The man took the rats, but the kids came along: Direct reference to the story of the Pied Piper. I think this could also be an observation made about Adam’s “enchantment” (read: control) over the rest of the Them during his little rampage. The rats could be a reference to Adam’s “new friends,” or the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse - some pretty nasty people, if you ask me. Easily comparable to rats.

Why did the mouse help the beast with his thorn?: Another of my favorite lines. This has to be Aziraphale recounting back to the first time he ever helped Crowley, by covering him with his wing and protecting him from the first rainstorm.

Does this town know how to make soup without stones?: A barely-there last line, whispered as the song fades out. Another reference to a folk tale, but I think it can be read as more of a joke in Aziraphale’s case. The original story details a group of villagers all pitching in to help some travelers make “stone soup,” and then all sharing the end result (sans stone). However, I think Aziraphale is saying it in a way that implies he is just a little selfish - just a bit of a bastard - and he doesn’t want to share what he has. He wants to keep it to himself. And I think in this case, he’s talking about Crowley again.

TL;DR - Aziraphale is very much in love with Crowley, and is still biding his time, waiting for the real apocalypse to come.

[not-poignant]

Can I ask about your method of deciding your Spotify playlists for stories? Where do you look for songs? How do you decide which you want? How do you decide the order, esp for stories that have long arcs that you have yet to write? If a song has perfect lyrics, but the wrong mood, or vice-versa, would you still use it? What if a song perfectly fits a character, but you personally don't like to listen to it? Are the songs more for you as you write? (Sorry for so many questions!)

You don’t need to apologise for a lot of questions, anon! Anything that sort of enables me to ramble hugely is never a bad thing, heh. :D

Can I ask about your method of deciding your Spotify playlists for stories? Where do you look for songs?

...On Spotify. I mean I have like about 300 playlists, about 3,000 local tracks not actually on Spotify, and I’ve listened to easily over (actually I’m gonna go check last.fm to make this legit hang on) - okay so over the years I’ve listened to 15,000~ unique songs over 255,000 times, from 3,200~ different artists. I am what you would call an avid music listener who deliberately seeks and explores for new music (when I’m in the mood.)

This is actually a huge part of my life with Glen, who was at university doing film and journalism (I was at university doing media studies and mass communication and scriptwriting, and film analysis fell into that) and that was how we met. So like fifteen years later, and we have consumed an unbelievable amount of music both together and apart. Like, way back in the day, 15 years ago, I had to make sure my computer had a CD burner so I could make mix-tapes for the both of us like all the time (and he did the same), and they were constantly changing.

Generally speaking, before Spotify, I used to look for music via the ‘similar to’ section on Allmusic, and sometimes Pitchfork recommendations. These days Spotify does a lot of that which makes it super helpful (along with the Discovery weekly list and the Release Radar). I don’t look on places like Youtube. I also do a lot of ‘who is the lead singer of this band’ and finding them in Wikipedia, and then listening to their other projects. Or ‘who is the guitarist they sound talented’ and finding their other projects.

How do you decide which you want?

The most important thing actually is I need to be able to write while listening to it (which answers the last question), which means a lot of the harder shit I listen to (dubstep, clubstep, some of the indie rock, rock and emo) can’t actually go on story playlists. So even if I find great songs for characters, that doesn’t always mean I can set words to them. For example Gulvi’s playlist I think suits her as a character, but I can’t write while listening to it. So I’ll often listen to some of that before writing her, and then switch into a quieter playlist.

I mean I don’t make the playlists for others. It’s nice that other people can enjoy them but for the longest time they were all set on private until I realised people wanted to see/listen to them. I make them to help my ability to write, they’re not...intended to be shared in the same way that fanfiction or fiction is? Like they are shared, but if people don’t see the character in the playlist, that doesn’t bother me and I’d never change it, because it’s about how I feel/see that character and how I’ll write them or interact with them based on the music I’m listening to.

How do you decide the order, esp for stories that have long arcs that you have yet to write?

Usually by evolution/feel of what I’m aiming for, to a point. The playlists generally always end with the happier songs (unless I’ve added a bunch of new songs and haven’t set them in order yet, lmao), or songs indicating that love is being more freely expressed. Though that’s not universal. Sometimes the order of songs is even mildly spoilery, if a playlist - like Mikkel’s - is ending with songs about ‘he was a good man but now he’s gone’ - chances are high someone’s gonna die. Like the last song on Mikkel’s playlist is literally a song about how we all die in the end. It was a glaring spoiler for those who were looking for it. There are playlists like that for The Ice Plague too, which I’m like ‘haha, *laughs nervously* I’m sure glad no one has commented on these particular songs yet, they probably think they apply to like, past loss or something even though they’re at the end of the playlist...’

Like weirdly, depending on how you look at it, I’m probably boldest about story spoilers in my playlists. Because the songs are often arranged by story chronology or character growth chronology (which is convenient for me, I can listen to the beginning songs in the beginning, the end songs at the end).

In stories I haven’t written yet, it’s more aspirational, like ‘I think I’m headed in this direction.’ It’s actually an important part of playlist building, is finding songs that inspire growth or plot, and then locking those in to remember how I want the story to feel.

You can normally tell I’m feeling pretty serious about wanting to write a story if it has a playlist though. It’s not guaranteed that I’ll write it, but it bumps up the likelihood to like 90%.

If a song has perfect lyrics, but the wrong mood, or vice-versa, would you still use it?

No, because music is just as important as lyrics, and if it’s not right, it’ll jar me out of my writing zone. (Lyrics can make me like a song more, but not always). Likewise, sometimes songs that feel right but don’t have the right lyrics will make it onto the playlist. Though not always. Downtown by Majical Cloudz is a song that actually makes me think of a lot of my stories, but the lyrics are so obviously contemporary, that I’ve only put it on the new Detroit Become Human fic I’m going to write. I just sometimes sneak out of a character playlist and listen to it while writing, lmao.

Thankfully I literally have thousands of songs to choose from, so some songs not fitting isn’t a problem for me. In fact my biggest issue is normally ‘all ten of these songs suit, but I’m not going to use all ten right now.’ 

With the latest Detroit Become Human playlist, I wanted a certain kind of bluesy rock for some of Hank’s songs. And I have very strong ‘this song belongs to this character’ ‘this song belongs to this character’ feels (sometimes they belong to both characters, in which case you’ll find the same song on both playlists.)

What if a song perfectly fits a character, but you personally don't like to listen to it?

Then it won’t go on the playlist, with some exceptions - again, Gulvi’s features a lot of music I don’t normally listen to.

But yeah like...music and listening to music is a huge part of my life. This week alone I’ve listened to 161 songs, which actually isn’t a huge music week for me (a sign that I’ve been out of the house a lot lol with appts etc.) Though I did listen to Downtown 66 times in order to help me write the last chapter of The Ice Plague: Book One. (I’m not finished yet, but I’m much closer).

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Endless Nights (ao3 link)

Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Barry Allen/Mick Rory/Leonard Snart Series: Flashwave Week 2018 (Destiny Series)

Summary: Despite his nature as Destiny of the Endless, He Who Reads the Word That Is All Things, Len generally doesn't read ahead.

He likes to think that's why his siblings, the others of the Endless, like him: because he loves them, and he trusts them, and because of that he does not monitor them.

That's probably why he misses the moment where they all decide to conspire against him.

A/N: @flashwaveweek - Flashwave Week: OT3

——————————————————————————————

Despite his nature as Destiny of the Endless, He Who Reads the Word That Is All Things, Len generally doesn't read ahead.

Oh, his predecessor had - people thought the Endless were just that, the Endless, but then Morpheus had had a hissy fit and then they had Daniel and now everyone is aware that the Endless can be replaced, though for some reason they always seem to exempt Destiny and Death from that analysis - but Len's predecessor had been a boring old fart who thought he was the universe's gift to itself.

Predestination, really.

Ridiculous.

Just because you can doesn't mean you should. Or even want to, for that matter! It seems like existence would be hideously boring like that, never being surprised by anything, even if Len does have access to all the stories of all the world, excluding only the infinite multitude of stories that were stored in Daniel's Dreamworld.

No, Len prefers to keep himself at the present, or maybe a few pages ahead, and makes no secret of it; and in return he likes to think that his siblings appreciate him more than they had his stiff and formal predecessor.

(the seven Endless are always siblings, even if they are not always bound by such mortal things blood, and always in the same order: Destiny first, then Death, then Dream, Desire, Despair, Destruction, and finally Delight or Delirium, depending on her mood)

His siblings, too, are new. Daniel has been Dream the longest, thought by tradition Len remains the eldest, and although Daniel wears the thousand faces of the Dream King, he rather prefers to craft himself new forms and new lives and comes to Len's garden to beg for a Word to help slip him into the narrative of Destiny unnoticed.

His current favored form is a baby-faced inventor of a thousand enthusiasms called Francisco Ramon; the one before had been called Harrison Wells.

Len likes Daniel, or Cisco, or Harrison, or however he wishes to be called: he is kind when he can be, and fair when not, but more importantly he is old enough to have seen the changing of the fates.

He was there when Len, still then a mortal, gave his life in an explosion to undo a knot of time he'd found and found himself thrown into the prior Destiny's garden, a guest at his table and a prisoner. For all of his arrogance, for all his talk of predestination, of inescapable fate, the prior Destiny had feared that which sat at his table and sought to keep him, so as to forestall his own end: it didn't work, of course, and the prior Destiny should have known it wouldn't.

He really should have known: after all, Len hadn't even thought about stealing from Destiny until he'd been imprisoned, and even if he had, he wouldn't have chosen the book chained to his wrists if not for that intolerable insult.

In the most classic of ways, Destiny begat Destiny.

(all the world's oracles sighed in silent gratification, and slept dreamless and voiceless for once)

And when Len rose up, made anew - the book chained to his wrist now, his blind eyes unable to see anything but the Word, but that Word now his and his alone - he sensed Her come to take his predecessor by the hand to lead him into the dark.

Death.

The old Death, rather: she favored the look of a Goth, white makeup and black kohl and an ankh for eternity, he knows that by instinct and the memories of words already written. That same memory tells him that she smiled at him, kind.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you."

Those were the only words she ever said to him.

And Len, whose hands were on his Book, whose Destiny was in his own hands for the first time in his life, understood.

Destiny and Death are the closest of the Endless, and they alone must always be kin: for first there is the Word, and with the Word the Reader, and once there is the Reader (a Destiny) who lives, there must also be Death.

But for every Destiny, a different Death.

The mantle of Destiny can only be taken by a thief in the night, but Death, who loves everyone, can only be replaced by love.

(and Leonard Snart had a sister)

(correction: Leonard Snart has a sister)

Lisa Snart had a choice, of course, but if she hadn't been willing to make that choice, Len's Destiny would never have been.

Lisa Snart is a Death as unlike her own predecessor as Len fancies he is of his: a Death not of darkness, but of glowing gold, warm and bright and brilliant.

Lisa is, of course, Len's favorite sibling.

But very shortly behind her is Mick.

Len and Lisa were still clinging to each other in the Garden of Destiny, their new roles shaking them to their marrow, when Mick came to them, a smile on his face and a raging fire in his wake: himself quite new, having emerged only a short while before, if time can so be calculated for beings whose existence stretches across eons.

Mick was the one who showed them their next steps, not Daniel (kind Daniel, arrogant Daniel, Daniel who was lost in his realm of dreams), and for that alone Len would love him.

But Mick is so much more than merely Destruction: he is rebirth and revival, the will to keep going onwards, and more important than all of that besides, he is Len's best friend.

Destiny, Death, Dream, and Destruction: the eldest four out of the seven.

As is only appropriate (destined, one might say, and Len does, often, with glee), Len met the twins next.

Well, sort of. He has to endure the old versions for a while: Desire of the many forms and a subtle but ever-present malicious arrogance, Despair of the naked trudging sloth.

He likes the new versions much better.

They came together, as all twins do: the White and the Black, goodness and evil evenly distributed but different as particles of daylight.

Sara and Laurel, they were called, but it was easy enough to slip into calling Sara Desire and Laurel Despair. Sara, who wants everything with a never-sated hunger; Laurel with a smile pasted on over the empty yawning pit within her.

And when they were comfortable in their skins again (desire and despair both), Len called a family meeting.

He didn't particularly want to, but it was necessary.

They gathered, all of them, Daniel and Mick and Len and Lisa and Sara and Laurel, and they waited.

Delirium arrived late, laughing as she always did.

When she got to her seat at the table, she stopped.

She stared.

She looked around.

"Oh," she said. "I'm the only one left."

And with that, she popped out of existence.

"What," Mick said.

"Had to happen," Len said, apologetically.

"Excuse me," Lisa said, and scurried away from the table to do her duty.

"But we can't be without a Delirium," Laurel objected.

"Or a Delight," Sara purrs.

"There will be a replacement," Daniel said confidently. Then he hesitated. "Right?"

"Um," a meek new voice says from the doorway. "Is this the right place, right?"

Caitlin is a lovely Delight, and Frost is an equally lovely Delirium.

Nothing like the old one.

For one thing, they swapped between each other far more often, Delight acknowledging the presence of Delirium and Delirium allowing for the presence of Delight, and it worked for them.

Len's family.

He loves them, and he trusts them, and because of that he does not monitor them.

That's probably why he misses the moment where they all decide to conspire against him.

"You're in my bed," Len says. He doesn't need eyes to know where everything is within his Garden realm.

"I know," Mick says.

"I'm ace."

"I know."

"Why are you in my bed, then?"

"I know."

"That wasn't a question that can be answered by 'I know', Mick."

Mick grins. "I know."

"Mick."

Mick laughs and rises from the bed. "I wanted to get your attention. I've found him."

"Found - him?" Len ruffles through the pages, looking for backstory. "Oh, your newest lover. Barry, is it?"

"That's how he prefers to be called," Mick agrees. "Better than 'Speed Force'."

"I've never met the Speed Force," Len says. "He warps time and fate, doesn't he?"

"Like no one else," Mick says proudly. "That's why he's perfect for you and me."

"Perfect..?"

"Yeah - Destruction and Destiny! Perfect for the Speed Force, which is always bumbling around fucking up fate left and right."

"I mean, by reputation, yes, that seems accurate," Len says. "But - perfect for what?"

"To be ours," Mick says.

Len frowns. "Did I mention that I'm ace?"

"Several times," Mick agrees, entirely unperturbed.

"So..?"

"I'm not asking you to have sex with him," Mick says haughtily. "I'll handle that part, and very well, too, thank you very much. But he can't just be mine - you know what happens to my lovers."

Mick means well, he always means well, but he is Destruction, inescapable.

He leaves only ruin in his wake.

"And you think I can help with that?" Len asks skeptically. The Endless cannot step on each other's domains, not with ease, and although Len is the eldest and the strongest, it is not a contest he would willingly engage in. "Why?"

"Because I want someone I can keep," Mick says, "and you need someone who can change you. Besides, you're ace, yes, but you've never fully ruled out the possibility of romance."

"Well, yes, but -"

"Settled, then."

"It is not."

"I'll go tell him the good news."

"Mick, I haven't agreed -"

"You will. It's, you know, Destined or however that happens."

"And how would you know anything about that?! Mick -"

"See you!"

"Mick!"

"You'll like him," Sara says confidently.

Len points a finger at her - not his dangerous pointer finger, the one he uses to read, but the finger right beside it, so as better to convey the fullness of his feelings on the subject. "Desire, you will not."

"I won't!" Sara says, playing at injured. "But you will, you know. Like him, that is."

"Desire..."

"I'm not meddling. You'd know at once if I was meddling and be able to resist it-"

The privilege of being the eldest.

Len appreciates it more each day.

"-but that doesn't mean I don't know things. I am Desire, after all, and you being ace doesn't mean you escape my grasp, thank you very much, even if you get it in a different way."

"I know you are, and I know that fact," Len says patiently. "I'm not questioning your competency in your field, that's for sure. Though I am questioning what you're doing here, in my Garden, instead of out - doing whatever it is you do."

He knows what she does. He knows what everybody does.

That's not the point, and Sara knows it.

Sara laughs. The sound makes Len crave...

Garlic breadsticks?

"Desire," he says sternly. "No meddling."

"It's just my sparkling personality! But seriously, what did you want just then? You always have the weirdest reactions - I think it's because you're one of the Endless. It never works right on Lisa, either."

"I don't need to think about you and Lisa, Desire."

"Lisa's my favorite sibling," Sara says wistfully. "Well, she’s everyone’s favorite, right alongside Delight-Delirium, but still, I like to think we have a real bond. We both have to serve the whole world."

"Still don't need to think about you and Lisa, Desire."

"Oh, come on, isn't it all in that book of yours?"

"In excruciating detail, yes. Go away."

"Awww, but Lenny -"

"You are not Lisa."

"Fine. Len. Just listen -"

"Still no. Go away."

"Ugh, fine. But I'm telling you, you will like him!"

"This is going to be so much fun!" Frost chants. She's taught herself to make ice bridges, created seemingly out of the air, to carry her around him in dizzying circles; he can feel the chill of them.

Len carefully makes sure that she doesn't touch any of his pages. They don't need another Dancing Plague anytime soon.

"You're going to be happy," Caitlin whispers in his ear, smiling. She's in a good mood. "Oh, Len..."

"I don't know how Mick has gotten you in on this," Len says crossly, "but I won't have it."

"You need to lighten up," Frost cackles.

Len gives in to the force of Frost's personality and lets himself be floated up to the ceiling, waiting patiently until Frost gets bored and lets him down again.

"You could just look ahead, you know," she says, pouting at him. "Your book has it down already - and you'd know if it was or wasn't so."

"I don't want to spoil the surprise."

"So you know there is a surprise! You're just holding out in anticipation!"

Len opens his mouth to object, because it won't be a surprise if there's no risk of the surprise being a bad one, then remembers that it's utterly pointless to argue with Frost, and rarely much more productive to argue with Caitlin, either.

"Go away," he says.

She - whichever one of her it is - smiles and flounces away.

Len waits until he can no longer feel her presence.

He glances at the Book that he always holds. He knows exactly where he would need to flip to, if he wanted to look...

No. That pathway leads to boredom and being predictable.

Len's always preferred free will.

He'll wait and see.

Laurel walks into his Garden.

"No," Len says. "Absolutely not."

She shrugs, and walks back out.

Fair enough.

Destiny does not sleep, strictly speaking, but Len occasionally indulges in a little shut-eye just for fun.

He is, in this instance, utterly unsurprised to find himself in his brother's smiling company.

He's wearing the Cisco face again, though the green stone shining from where it hangs from his neck is a clear giveaway.

"Let me guess," Len says dryly. "This Barry guy's great, I'll love him, I should just give in now and accept a polyamorous relationship with him and Mick?"

"Would you really accept Mick having any relationship - a serious relationship, not one of his flings - where you weren't involved?" Cisco asks in reply.

Len frowns.

"That isn't the point," he temporizes.

"It kinda is, man," Cisco says. "You and Mick, you're practically joined at the hip - it's throwing everyone into a frenzy, you know."

"A frenzy?"

"Destiny and Death? Classic combo. It's nice and traditional, you two having your own little thing and the rest of us trying to catch up - or, usually, looking to me, which never goes well for anyone." He shrugs unselfconsciously. No one is more aware of Dream's failings than the he who replaced Morpheus. "Destiny and Destruction being close, though? That's a whole new ballgame. People are talking end times."

"People are always talking end times," Len says dismissively, then adds, not without some real irritation, "And why does everyone always forget that Mick stands for positive destruction as well? Sometimes you can't make progress unless you tear down what's been built up before - the Roman Senate, the ancien regime, slavery, institutionalized bigotry -"

Cisco holds up his hands. "Don't get me wrong, big bro, I totally agree with you. Besides, if you ever let more people into your Garden -"

Over Len's immortal dead body.

"- then they'd realize what it really means, Destiny and Destruction being close, and then they'd freak out even more."

"What it really means?"

"We're the Endless," Cisco says. "Who we are and what we are and what the universe itself is, that's all so bound up together that there's no one without the other. You and Mick, being friends - it has an impact. On you, on him, on the universe."

Len arches his eyebrows. This isn't exactly news.

"Free will," Cisco says with a relish. "That's what it means. You're the most radical pro-free will Destiny in - well, probably since the beginning. The real beginning. And when all those gods and all those systems and all those institutions realize that you're not going to be holding the flood of change back? That far from sitting in your Garden reading people into their nice predictable river pathways, you're going to tear open the dam of fate itself and let everyone face the consequences of their own decisions? When they figure out that the Book of Destiny itself is being Read by a freaking anarchist? Yeah. Total panic."

Len can't help but smile, just a little, denying exactly none of it.

"That's why this Barry guy's gonna be good for you," Cisco adds. "He'll make things even more chaotic, bending reality and time itself back and forth, and he won't stand for anything getting in his way: no force, no injustice, nothing."

That...actually did sound rather appealing, damnit.

"He'll fit in just right with Mick," Cisco says thoughtfully. "All that destruction. But he's the Speed Force - he was made for more than just destruction. He was made to change things, permanently, to birth an age of heroes and stories like no other -"

"Suddenly I see where your interest in this comes from."

"Okay, fine, you caught me. The dreams we'd get if we lived in a world of walking legends...it'd be amazing. But that doesn't change the fact that both Barry and Mick need you to do more than just tear things down. Barry needs you to make his changes permanent."

"I can do that without dating him," Len points out. "Him or Mick. Besides, Mick's my brother."

"You've always been closer than brothers and you know it," Cisco objects. "Listen, just - think about it, yeah? This Barry guy, he's good. He's your type of good. You'll like him. And what it'll do for the universe -"

"I don't make decisions on behalf of the universe, Daniel," Len says. No one knows the perils of arrogance more than Morpheus’ successor, but sometimes he forgets. "Not more than I have to. That's the point of free will. Now let me wake up."

Cisco's face shimmers and stretches into Daniel's pale white features, features that Len can even imagine that he can see if he tries hard enough, and even in Len's imagining Daniel looks disappointed. "If you're sure. I could let you linger in Dreamworld longer, if you like - maybe show you the newest bit of L-space we've discovered in the Library - the Librarian is an ape -"

"No."

Daniel sighs. "As you wish, brother."

Len woke up.

He's reading a football match into existence - a good one, hard fought and well-played, the ball constantly in motion on feet and heads, classic match-up, twenty-two men chase a ball for ninety minutes and then Germany wins as the old joke goes - when Lisa walks in, high heels and golden glow.

Len finishes the match - it'd be a pity to leave it in suspense - and then looks up at his baby sister, who has become Death, destroyer of worlds.

Quite literally, in her case.

He smiles at her.

(He wishes sometimes that he could see her face once more.)

"Barry Allen," she says, not bothering with subtleties.

"Not you too!" Len exclaims.

"Mick thinks you've decided against him," she says. "It makes him sad, like you don't trust him."

"I'd trust him with my Book," Len says honestly, and the most terrifying part of that is that it's true, especially knowing what Len knows of Mick's nature.

"Then go meet this lover."

"He doesn't just want me to meet him."

Lisa studies him. "Why are you so resistant to this?" she asks. "You've always loved Mick. This Barry will only add to that love, not take it away."

"I know. But -"

"Are you just being stubborn, or are you actually afraid?"

Len hesitates.

"He won't take Mick away from you," Lisa adds, quiet. "And you know it: if you were really afraid, you would've read ahead to confirm. But you believe in free will, and you want Mick to choose freely, even if that choice isn't you."

Len presses his lips together.

"Mick's in love with this Barry," he says, after a few long moments of silence. He had glanced ahead far enough to see that.

"Yes," Lisa says. "And if you stop being an idiot, so will you, and he'll love you both back. Now go and meet him already!"

Any of the others he would have told to fuck off - and has.

But not his Lise.

"Fine," he says, surrendering. "I'll meet him."

Barry Allen, the Speed Force, is everything they all said and more.

Mick loves him.

Len loves him, too.

(Damn them all for being right.)

They're going to change everything.

[inthenameofthebody]

Music, Meditation, Painting—and Dreaming

A conversation with Philip Glass and Fredericka Foster

Philip Glass

and

Fredericka Foster

FALL 2021

We are on the phone, freewheeling about our practices: music, art, and meditation. Another day, we are in Philip’s kitchen, sitting at a wooden table. Behind us are comfortable couches and a private outdoor space. Philip’s partner, the artist Saori Tsukada, is working with flowers in the urban garden surrounding the house.

—Fredericka Foster

Philip Glass (PG): I was talking once to Gelek Rimpoche [1938–2017] about meditation, and I asked him, “Isn’t it just paying attention?” Yes, he said, “that’s absolutely what it is.” Meditation is a nice fuzzy word that we all like to talk about—but paying attention is placing your mind and functioning in a different way.

During the few years I have practiced meditation, I have worked with a number of texts. Say I am reading texts I have read many times—I’m thinking of the first Panchen Lama’s book on guru devotion [Lama Chöpa: The Guru Puja], which is not well understood. It is not about the guru; it is about the devotion. When I decide to really pay attention, I go back in my memory and look at some of the initiations I have taken. I watch the language change from awareness to remembering. It is possible to train the mind to increase memory.

I once asked the [scholar-teacher] Demo Rinpoche how many books he had memorized, and he replied that he wasn’t doing much memorizing at all—he thought only about 19! I’m sure it is many more now, and Gelek Rimpoche had memorized a library. The Tibetan culture cultivated the idea of memorizing. The passing on of wisdom could have been very accurate, since this was their main way of sharing information. The Tibetan lamas would memorize entire books and then, looking at a particular page, include the footnotes from other books they had read to verify a particular idea or lineage in the book they were writing themselves.

Fredericka Foster (FF): And here I am, still working to memorize all the texts that I work with daily! Memorization is also a part of a visual artist’s training. When we learn to draw, we work from reality—say, at its simplest, a still life. First we draw a series of lines to establish a compositional placement on the page. Then we memorize a line, draw it, and go back to the source to check it. We keep doing that until we have trained our hand to accurately follow our eye. Another memory exercise involved going through a pile of one thousand prints in a day and then discussing what we had seen. Or we would spend hours in front of a single painting and then sketch it out later.

PG: Culture has often been passed from one generation to the other through the power of memorization. We know the Bible was written 200 years after the birth of Christianity, so we assume it was made up. But it is possible that a sharp mind could remember very clearly and pass it along to another sharp mind, so the passing along of wisdom could have actually been very accurate, maybe more accurate than you would find in books, which are subject to typographical error, bad editions, and missing pages.

FF: Tibetan Buddhism attracts a lot of visual artists, and I suspect it is because we take easily to the many visualization exercises available for practitioners. I remember your telling me that your father taught you to play mental chess, which would certainly serve to sharpen your memory.

PG: Yes, he began doing that with his brother to pass time while they were waiting for the papers to be delivered for their paper route. And he continued playing with me and my brother.

If you go back to the 15th and 16th centuries, people didn’t write down everything. Many people didn’t write at all! One memorizing trick was to visualize a bookshelf and to actually visualize the names of the books on the shelf. I tried this once to see if it would work with a dance company in Australia. There were 20 people in the company, and we worked with them for a few days. With each member, I visualized their name on a book cover and put it in a certain location on an imaginary shelf. The last day I was able to say goodbye to each one, correctly remembering their names while looking at the bookshelf I had created in my mind. And they said, “How did you do that?” Well, what I was doing was trying to see if that thing worked. It did work.

“When that intensity of attention is applied to creating, you can’t stand outside and watch it; you have to give up the witness.”

FF: And we both did a lot of memorization in school—of poetry, speeches, and so on. It’s helpful when we memorize sutras and prayers today.

PG: All that also serves to assist us with the flow of attention. I once heard someone say he didn’t understand meditation. I said, “Forget that word; just pay attention to what you are doing.” We had been talking about infinity, and my friend suggested it was the flow of eternity, and I said that is the whole idea, the process of the mind attending to what you are doing, one moment at a time.

I find that when that intensity of attention is applied to creating, you can’t stand outside and watch it; you have to give up the witness. People ask me all the time, “Where did that music come from?” I have no idea, because all my energy went into writing the music. Since I had no awareness of myself writing, I had extra energy to increase the depth of concentration. It left me without the awareness of doing the work. I discovered that being aware of myself creating was an indulgence I couldn’t afford.

FF. It sounds like you have somehow overcome dualism when you are writing music. It’s like the state we work to achieve in order to become one with the object of meditation.

PG: Actually, when I decided to explore where music lived, I found that music comes from dreaming. I noticed I would wake up with a piece of music very clear in my mind. I thought these were stray ideas, but then I became curious where these ideas came from—the dreaming function of the mind is not ordinarily available to us. So I decided to wake up and write it down.

Recently, I was considering working on King Lear, a play I don’t like very much, and I was thinking I don’t want to write music for this. I finished the play and went to sleep. Then, at 5:30 in the morning, I heard music playing, and realized it was King Lear music and that the play was all about Lear’s relationship with his daughter; everything else was distraction. I went to the piano without hesitation. I started to write words by hand to describe the idea, then I sketched the music—a few measures. I thought it was the beginning of Lear, but actually it was the end.

FF: I keep pen and paper at my bedside and write or draw ideas as they appear. I haven’t done much with these ideas, but you are inspiring me to pay closer attention to them.

PG: Dreaming is the most personal and unique function that we don’t normally share with others. In analysis, we paid a lot of attention to dreams, but I am not talking about Freudian analysis and projecting it onto everyone else. What I learned from analysis was to give up my interest in the uninteresting—all those family issues made me bored with myself, and I didn’t have to do that anymore. Maybe the analyst knows this is what is happening. I read that during the first two hours of sleep, the mind looks at the day just past and sorts out memories to be preserved and those to be put away. The mind acts as an archivist. The creative part comes close to morning, before you wake up. When I wake up, I ask myself What was I just thinking? It is probably what I was dreaming about.

FF: Are you talking about lucid dreaming?

PG: No, but I can stand at the door of my dream and look into the room, as it were. It’s not complete, but it’s enough. Before I write, I access that dreaming state. I may never understand the dream, but what is important is that the material of the dream has become available.

FF: You encouraged me once to see the Cocteau Orphic trilogy, which inspired you to write an opera triptych. Those three films explore dreams and myths and can be watched again and again. When I moved from doing paintings exploring the symbols of faith and myth to working with images of water, I felt that I moved into metaphor and closer to the dream state. I am so relaxed looking at water. It frees my mind to wander, and I get new ideas, or watch old ones come together.

PG: The challenge of any artist is to keep the fire of creativity alive. What we mostly do is, we get good at doing something, and we keep doing it and don’t change much at all. If I look at the work of Sol LeWitt [1928- 2007], it is extraordinary, but it doesn’t change much. [Josef] Albers did manage to work with a square in a square over and over, but while they might look the same, they are not the same at all because of the influence of color.

An artist like me wants radical change. I found that the engine of change was working with new people and the new ideas they brought to the conversation. It didn’t turn into a formula, but I often did this.

Bob Wilson and I did [the opera] Einstein on the Beach, and it was very successful. To avoid doing “The Son of Einstein on the Beach,” I next did the opera Satyagraha, which was completely different. That was counterintuitive. We all want to please people. Your gallery wants you to make more of the same kind of paintings because they were successful. Most people follow success with another similar one, but I wanted to keep creative thinking alive in the process.

Every time I made a big change, I would lose a lot of people, but I would get some new ones. I found 50 percent of people liked it and 50 percent didn’t.

FF: After the Fischbach Gallery [where I regularly showed] left New York and went online, I found my work changing. I’ve always had to solve a new problem with each painting, but now I feel free to change what I was doing in a more radical way.

PG: I’ve noticed your work is changing. I have turned this change idea into a mantra: I am never happier than when I don’t know what I am doing. Still, I have moments of panic. How is this going to work? It can be very stressful trying to do new things, and I am not always completely successful, but I change as much as I can.

I discovered it was impossible not to do something familiar to some degree. When working in theater, I had to have at least one person who would come with me into a new project. I had to find a compromise about what I was willing to know and not know. I found I had to take something with me. Parts of my language would have to be the same, or my task would become impossible.

FF: In your ninth symphony, I feel like you are communing with the cosmos; there seems to be a seamless interaction between art and meditative revelation.

“I have turned this change idea into a mantra: I am never happier than when I don’t know what I am doing. Still, I have moments of panic.”

PG: Our minds are working all the time, but we can’t drive thoughts into awareness. As an artist, you are distilling your thoughts all the time, or listening to music, or paying attention to images. You are probably painting very differently now than you did when you were young, and some of that will be due to the fact that you have learned how to master your attention.

Once when I was in the mountains of Mexico with friends, we had to cross a valley to where we left our car. It looked to me like we didn’t have time to get there. If it got dark and we were in the desert, we would be in trouble. We started walking in a focused-intention kind of way—they called it a walk of attention. A walk that would have normally taken 40 minutes took 10. I had that experience of being able to pay attention to my attention, to actually cross a valley in a much shorter period of time so that we got to where we needed to in the light. We’re talking about pretty hardcore reality. The only way to do it was to command my attention to the point where I was able to make that happen. You can say “Well, you just made that up.” Of course I just made it up; how else could it have happened if I hadn’t made it up? But the fact of the matter is, I got across the valley before the sun went down. I know you’ve experienced something like that in painting.

FF: Yes, and at those times it seems that the painting paints itself. Later, I think, How did I do that? I’ve also experienced the sensation of entering the consciousness of animals, or even fish, when I have been watching water; suddenly feeling the sense of hunger and of being prey at the same moment—imagination becoming compassion. Music, art, and meditation are all means of accomplishing deep mental targeting of our feelings of interdependence and compassion.

PG: Bravo!

[musikat18]

Non-Stop (Jim Kirk x Reader Part 3)

That Would Be Enough (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3- you are here)

Pairing: AOS Jim Kirk x Reader

Rating: PG for angst, language and descriptions of violence

A/N: Time to pick up steam and get into the meat of some plot~ Enjoy!

You probably should have taken that extra languages credit at the Academy instead of Advanced Physiological Analysis.

If you had, you would have found it easier to focus on the words of the panicked alien woman through the universal translator and not the tense figure of your ex-captain just across the way.

“Can we trust her?” Commodore Paris looked at you as the female alien, identifying herself as Kalara, tried desperately to read your face.

“There’s nothing significant in her records,” you half-mumbled and scrolled through the file. “She is the captain of a science vessel, though I....” You hesitated.

“You don’t know why she would leave without any of her crew with her,” Jim read your mind. Your smirk was almost noticeable. Dear god, did you miss what marginal intuition he showed.

“Exactly.”

“If there is any chance that crew can be rescued from the nebula she speaks of,” Paris looked over the chart of the region, “Starfleet has a duty to retrieve this peaceful vessel.”

You switched over to a new data chart on your PADD, “Sir, the region has yet to be explored by the Enterprise, or any other far-reaching vessel Starfleet operates. We have no idea what or who could be waiting in that nebula.”

“The Enterprise would be happy to accommodate space to allow Commander Y/L/N to join us,” Jim suggested. You snapped your head in his direction. He clearly did not take that Advanced Physiological Analysis class, because you were this close to yelling at him, and you probably would have if he hadn’t, for once in his life, suggested a perfectly logical and decent idea.

“...A word in my office, Captain,” Paris waved Jim after her. You blew air out through your nose. Great. Just great. You had worked so hard to keep yourself out of any emotional situations, and now Captain James Tiberius Perfect-Hair-Pretty-Eyes was going to ruin all the barriers you’d put up around yourself.

Like any logical person, you decided to retreat to your own office.

“Wow.”

You heard that from your doorway, and for all your training in combat and security, you still jumped at the sound, almost falling into your holo-display of information.

Jim gave you an empty chuckle, “You’re putting that all together like you’re running out of time on something.”

“Well, I am,” you reasoned, “It’s for your crew. Information that might be helpful going into the nebula in that sector.”

He frowned to one side, “So you don’t want to come with us.”

“I have work here, Jim. I have a life here. I can’t just drop everything and run back out into space with you just because- because- why do you want me with your crew again?”

“Because I know you, Y/N,” he said, giving you a sincere look. “You’re the best security officer in this fleet, and an even better tactical officer than me or anyone currently on the Enterprise. You don’t deserve to spend your time on a Starbase where-”

“Can you cut that out, Jim?” you snapped. “I know what you’re discussing with Commodore Paris. You want to leave the Enterprise. You applied for a vice admiralty, and you applied for it here. How can a Starbase be good enough for you and not me?”

“That’s a different situation, Y/N, and how did you even find out about that?”

“I’m the security head, smartass. All comms go through me, voice-written or not.”

“That...that would make a lot of sense.”

“You don’t seem to be very good at that.”

Jim bored his blue eyes straight into yours, “That’s why I need you.”

“You have Spock and Bones to babysit you, and don’t you say ‘but I want you to babysit me.’ No, you don’t, because there is so much dumb stuff you could have done in five years that there’s no way I’d ever let you off the hook for it.”

“...Be that as it may-”

“Jim,” you sighed. “Don’t fight me, okay? Just don’t.”

Your ex-captain and current crush and friend and lots of other things nodded and hung his head, turning to leave your office.

“...I do think about why you could have left, you know.” He said, “I think about it all the time.”

Your heart wanted you to run after him, to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Not before he was heading out on such a dangerous expedition. You turned back to your work. There was still a lot to do before the Enterprise left Yorktown with Kalara.

“Commander Y/L/N,” Paris greeted from your doorway.

“I am not getting on that ship.”

“I can’t believe she made me get on this ship,” you grumbled at Bones. 

You were now sitting in medbay, back in a standard red commander’s dress, crossing your legs over the edge of a biobed and waiting for McCoy to gather your new medical scans and vaccines.

“You and me both, darlin’,” the Southern doctor waved his tricorder at you. “You and me both.”

“Who does Jim think he is, asking me to drop everything and run back off into space with him?”

“Y’know, me and the others are still on this ship, too.”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I meant.”

“Listen, Jim isn’t one to admit when he fucks up, but he does fuck up, and he knows he did with whatever happened between the two of you,” Bones offered. “You two have the same line of thinking.”

“Okay, but I keep myself alive, he goes and throws himself into danger at the flip of a switch.”

You could see the change in emotion behind Bones’ hazel eyes.

“This is about the warp core three years ago.”

You sputtered, “That’s ridiculous! That was three years ago!”

“I get it, alright?” McCoy cleaned his tools as he spoke to you, “You lost him, and it’s your job to keep this whole ship safe.”

“It was my job to keep this whole ship safe. I have a lot more on my plate now.”

Bones stood firm, “We do things that are more alike than I thought, I’ve decided. Save lives, just in different ways. I know you might not be able to let that all go so easy-- do you think I sleep well at night?”

You sat, silent for a moment. He was right, of course; you hadn’t had Jim’s dead body dropped in your security mainframe.

“Well, you and I tend to handle tragedy differently, don’t we, Bones?”

He didn’t argue with you. You weren’t sure if it was because you had struck a nerve or because you were right.

Both. It was probably both.

“Y/N,” Uhura poked her head in your new-old office on the ship. “Wow...you’ve gotten busy again quick.”

“I’m not staying here, Nyota,” you said, trying to cover up your disappointment for the sake of your sharpest friend. “I still have some Yorktown stuff to manage while I’m out here. Finnegan can’t do it all by himself, after all.”

“You’ve written a thousand pages of orders for Yorktown and any nearby vessels in three hours,” she said seriously. “Dr. McCoy would have a fit if he knew you were working this hard.”

“What else is there to do? Like I said, I’m not staying here.”

“Shame. Now that you and Christine are both transferred, I’m starting to run out of crew for girls’ night.”

You smiled, “Maybe we’ll have time for one more on the way back.” 

“Anyway,” she said with a laugh, “Captain Kirk wants you on the bridge. We’re almost through the nebula. Kalara says there’s a planet beyond there, and that that’s where her crew is.”

“When does Jim not need me on the bridge?” you grinned. There were so many meanings and feelings to swallow with that statement.

You could tell it hit Nyota more than you intended. 

“...He has mellowed out, you know. Not a lot, he’s still Jim, but you get it.”

“I don’t think he’ll stop being Jim for anything. Not that I mind Jim, just...”

“I know,” she nodded, walking ahead of you into the turbolift. “I know you’re upset with him, we all see it.”

“Nyota,” you stopped her, “can we just focus on the mission?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” she said.

You hated her a little for being so good at reading anyone and everyone.

“Security commander on the bridge, keptin,” Chekov announced your arrival. You gave the sweet kid a little wave, and he grinned back. You didn’t quite regret coming back as much after that.

“The planet is called Altamid,” Kalara explained to you, standing with a tense posture at one of the viewing stations. Something about her had changed. She didn’t look worried anymore; she looked downright scared. You tried to meet eyes with Jim, but he was focused on other things.

“Captain, we have an incoming vessel,” Sulu warned Jim. You cast your eyes to the screen of the ship, trying to analyze the odd movement of the vessel across the way.

“Uhura, hail them.”

“Hailing frequencies open...they’re not responding.”

You’d never seen a ship move in such a serpentine manner before...

“I’m getting some kind of signal...still no response.”

It was almost like movie made each individual panel of the unidentified ship glimmer... You moved over to your old station, eyes bursting wide at the readings. 

“They’re mobilizing weapons!” your cry caught Jim and Kalara’s attention.

“Shields up!”

You began optimizing the weapons at your disposal as the unidentified ship split into hundreds of smaller battle pods. 

“Captain,” Spock warned, “we are not equipped for this kind of engagement.”

“Y/N?”

“He’s right, Jim,” you said. “The size of that fleet alone will-”

You cut yourself off as the ship jolted.

“They’re boarding, sir,” Nyota said. Your gaze steeled.

“Y/N,” Jim warned as you grabbed for a phaser under your station. “Y/N, what are you doing?!”

“You’re not the only one with the authority to save lives, Jim!”

Your stony expression froze his as the turbolift doors closed in front of you.

Your life, as it seemed, was going to go back to non-stop, break-neck action.

Tagging: @mrkrychek @wonders-of-the-enterprise