#no color this time uni work is killing me :(

[bybdolan]

thoughts on books i read in 2024

This was kind of an abysmal reading year for me ... i did not read a lot, very few books were truly excellent, and most of what I read was written by white guys (which is on me). Let’s hope 2025 is better on all fronts. Anyway, here’s a list of what I read, and about 4 sentences written in 3 minutes trying to summarize my thoughts on the book.

The Autograph Collector (Zadie Smith) – started the year off pretty strong with this one. It’s been a while since I read it, but what I do remember is that smith is an excellent storyteller and I liked how the themes of grief, dreams, and fame were woven together.

Die Insel der 1000 Leuchttürme (Walter Moers) – eh? I was constantly hoping that this would go in a “horror as metaphor for bigotry” or “small communities with strict rules are fucking scary” (think The Wicker Man) kind of direction, and thus was not on board with the way the plot ended up developing. It’s also way too long and Hildegunst’s neuroses are annoying after a certain point.

Faserland (Christian Kracht) – this is as good as everyone says it is. Full stop. I admittedly just love books about sad young men who are or pretend to be assholes (Catcher in the Rye), so this was perfect for me. Very sad and very pale, but in a good way – it felt clear, like nice winter wind. Also: I couldn’t get the boy to kill me but I wore his jacket for the longest time. Etc. etc.

Das fliegende Klassenzimmer (Erich Kästner) – a classic for a reason!!! Children’s books are at their best when they take their audience seriously, and this passes that test with flying colors. Incredibly fun, incredibly moving. Made me cry more than once. Eisern!

Call Me By Your Name (André Aciman) – this was a really interesting experience for me because I strongly disliked the movie when I watched it, as I was constantly put off by Oliver’s behavior. I think the book does a better job at making you understand the fragile and confusing back-and-forth between Elio and Oliver, and I found myself really really liking it because of that. I also greatly appreciate how unapologetically horny it is. Being horny makes you act fucking weird!!! I love weird horny representation!!! YAY peach scene! The style was beautiful as well, though a bit imagery-heavy at times, which did fit the heavy summer atmosphere.

Rico, Oskar 1 – 3 (Andreas Steinhöfel) – listened to the audiobooks on my way to uni. A very fun time all around. Similarly to Kästner, Steinhöfel has a lot of respect for his audience and also doesn’t shelter them. What other kids’ books can you name where the protagonist’s mom works at a strip club? The representation may not be perfect but I love that he went there. Mama Doretti you are forever famous TO ME.

The End of Loneliness (Benedict Wells) – always pains me to say this because Benedict Wells legit is so fucking sweet and nice in person and I’d LOVE to have dinner with him, but ... he is not thaaat good of a writer. This one essentially is a John Irving wannabe, and despite the “dark” themes it feels incredibly shallow and cliched at times. The female character(s) are particularly offensive. However: at the very least Wells is earnest about it all?

22 Bahnen (Caroline Wahl) – Caroline Wahl who had 2 books on the bestsellers list for over a year now recently complained that she wasn’t nominated for the Deutscher Buchpreis, which is partially meant as financial support for authors whose a) books do not sell well because b) they are good and complex pieces of literature, so I hope that she’ll be at least a bit consoled by receiving the “Book That Made Me Seethe With Hatred 2024” award <3 the writing is ass the story is shallow it’s all just a big fucking cliché and the depiction of poverty and addiction is appalling. I’d be ashamed to put a book like this out into the world.

HOOL (Philipp Winkler) – this still is THE book about violent men to me. I read it 5 times in the summer of 2018 and I am happy to report that it has lost none of its appeal and grit and ugliness. Simply a 10/10 and deeply formative to my taste.

Emil und die Detektive (Erich Kästner) – everything I said about Das fliegende Klassenzimmer is also true for this one. Ultimately I do prefer Klassenzimmer though, simply because the themes of friendships and camaraderie appeal to me much more.

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (Stieg Larsson) – As a thriller this is near perfect, I could not put it down for two days. Larsson manages to do the whole “intersection of faith and violence against women” thing without it feeling exploitative (I’d be inclined to believe he may have started this trend), and I am glad that he allows his female characters to take gruesome revenge. Howeveeerrr unfortunately the narration still has a very chauvinistic edge to it and Mikkel feels like a male mid 40s wish fulfillment fantasy.

The Goldfinch (Donna Tartt) – I bought this in the Mauritshuis after seeing the Goldfinch so :’) it has a nice little sentimental edge to it. And this is another one of those “it really is THAT good” books. Looking back now, I am surprised that relatively little has stayed with me though – I never was that invested in Theo, and I also didn’t love Boris a ton, so a lot of the novel was just me hanging out with characters I didn’t like reading about that much. What stuck with me the most was the love for beautiful things that comes pouring out of every pages. Especially the parts in Hobie’s shop were just awe-inspiring. I’m planning to do a reread where I just focus on the descriptions because they were so unbelievably rich.

Bluebeard (Kurt Vonnegut) – I don’t remember a ton about this. What comes back to me most is my fondness of Vonnegut. He has a lot of humor and warmth in his writing, and I always find myself deeply moved by him writing about people loving one another, as funny or dark or even sad it may be.

The Virgin Suicides (Jeffrey Eugenides) – IT REALLY IS THAT GOOD. I could go on about the genius of that narrator perspective (the boys who watched the Lisbon girls as this big shapeless faceless conglomerate of first person plural) for ages. The prose is embroidery-worthy and the amount of detail and specificity do not only bring the Lisbon girls to life, but also the entire small town ecosystem around them. A beautiful capsule of stifled adolescence. And yet a horrifying read. (Bonus: I read this at the time when my boyfriend was reading Lolita, so when we were reading in public we looked like Mr. + Mr(s). Coquette.)

The O’Henry Prize Winners of 2024 – I love a good short story collection what can I say? I highly recommend these collections to everybody, as they present an array of innovative, diverse, well-told short stories that you may have not heard about before unless you are a literary magazine afficionado. My favorites were “Roy” and “The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz”.

Everybody Jam (Ali Lewis) – listen. Nothing hits like a good middle grade book. This one is veeery heavy at times and I was honestly not ready for some of the stuff that was happening, but it still was an engrossing experience and I just love coming-of-age stories that get into the mess of living. I also learned a lot about Australian cattle farming. Yay.

Fighting Ruben Wolfe (Markus Zusak) – another book about men and violence, yay! Finished this one today (it technically is only the first half of my German joint edition of this + “When Dogs Cry” but shhh). The writing was really good for the most part (I read it to get a feel for slightly gritty and simple vocabulary-wise yet rich in imagery narration for a project of mine, and it definitely delivered), however, it is very cut-up and not very subtle at times. I also felt like it was just missing. Something. I wasn’t really satisfied by the end of it.

so uuuh I think my favorite new reads of the year were The Virgin Suicides and Faserland. Maybe I should lighten up.

[eliquire33]

Tfw you still hook up with the guy you hate and even tho you’ve been doing it for decades he still takes 5 seconds to be shy about showing his neck and it turns you on even tho it shouldn’t bc he’s about to hate f*ck you…..

Alternatively, “Can you come over so I can Kubrick stare at you while you undress?”

[aychama]

I'm sorry if this is too personal but did you had/have any art trauma caused by art teachers in school? And by trauma I mean some aversion to try learning one thing, because art teacher was just a dick. I have something like that with shading and it still holds after 6 years as a adult and I want to break it, but I cannot force myself to try it again and this holds my proggres as a ,,artist" and that's make me smad. I'm sorry once again if this is too personal or too hard to answer

Yup I did! Tho idk if I can call it "trauma" tbh

Oop I kinda went on a rant sorry lol

I studied ceramics in uni but I did have nude art classes and classes that required detailed art projects.

Although most of my uni time was wasted thanks to covid, I did get harrassed by a few of my classmates and my teacher in my last year.

My classmate had said that my art level wasnt good enough to be in this uni and my teacher yelled at me in the middle of class for like a week or two because I refused his ideas for my projects (he had given me the ok on the design before he changed his mind 180 and started pointing and laughing at me with my classmates while i worked on my ceramic project)

I eventually had to give up resisting because I wanted to pass the class and let him do whatever he wanted. (He legit just put clay on top of my design, smoothed it out and that was it in fact here is the design he gave me the ok to, the middle of my project and the way he stopped me)

After this I basicly didnt do anything more for his class, minimum effort. My days in Uni weren't all bad thank god but I was extremely unmotivated.

After I graduated, I didnt really draw or create much until my love for drawing rekindled with Cult of The Lamb! I love this game and Narilamb too much lmao-

But as for something similar to your experience I would say that I used to play the bass and electro guitar in highschool and we had to perform one day which I chickened out from that resulted in the music teacher getting angry at me. I dont play the guitar anymore :/ But my love for music hasnt died and I am using my love for art diffrently!

I would say that even if certain experiences deviates you from some topics, branches of art or people, dont let it kill your whimsy and ideas. You can always try out diffrent things to find something fun like diffrent styles of drawing, shading or no shading, diffrent mediums like digital or traditional, new or old techniques, weird colors or designs. You can always try out whats popular to see if you like it or not as well. You can also consume a lot of art media, educational or entertainment.

There is so many creative things you can try out, you dont have to be stuck on the past and that one shading idea your teacher tried to teach you ır tried to force onto you. I think you can go back to it after trying out many diffrent things to see if it was the technique or the teacher that ruined it for you.

If it was the technique, there are many MANY diffrent ones that you can enjoy!

If it was the teacher, Im not a therapist so idk what would be the right thing to say but healing takes time, sometimes the things people say never leaves you and sometimes you forget it 5 minutes later. You are a person with the ability to change, learn and grow. The only thing that is in your way is your 'will'. If you are willing to change, even if takes a long time, you will change! But if you dont want to, then no one can force you.

Healing and moving on is hard but not impossible. Dont let an asshole teacher get in the way of your growth ❤️

[cheolhub]

UR INVITED 2 CHEOLHUB'S 1ST BDAY BASH!

ABOUT THE EVENT ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

HELLOOOOO! ok first of all, no one comment on my header (unless ur complimenting it 😊), i dropped my art minor after 3 months bc i lack artistic skill and i’ve made it very clear here. NEXT, it’s not MY birthday but cheolhub will officially be a YEAR old on the 26th of august & i wanted to celebrate with a lil sleepover event :> i've had so many ups and downs while running this blog and have almost abandoned it more times than i can count, so i just want to say CHEERS to cheolhub (aka sar aka me) for making it this far <3 i am eternally grateful for every kind message, every piece of feedback, and everyone who has been supporting me and my silly lil blog. i love u guys sm and would’ve been long gone without you T^T <3 i hope you'll join the celebration!! -3- and if this flops, you’ll never hear from me again /j /j /j

i knowww it’s early, but i start uni classes again next week (my last semester, yay 😻) and i wanna have time to do an event T-T

SLEEPOVER DATES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

this event runs for about two weeks! from sunday, august 13th to sunday, august 27th. any asks sent after august 27th will be deleted!

please note that i’ll still be working on asks (if i have any left) even after the event is closed.

EVENTS ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

！★﹕ᶻ﹐LET'S EAT﹒

☆︎ who's hungry? 👹🍽 request a short (less than 1k) drabble and you shall receive. i will be writing the first 5-10 requests due to my busy uni schedule :3 — choose a prompt (or two) from this prompt list + a member from seventeen, txt or the boyz! [closed] (ik the list isnt numbered, so just copy + paste ur preferred prompt(s) ><)

★︎ mtl for seventeen and txt! [open]

☆︎ hard hours for any group i write for! [refer to my guidelines to see who i write for] [open]

！★﹕ᶻ﹐ TIME 4 SELF CARE﹒[open]

★︎ let's do the things that make us happy! what makes us happier than being delusional and horny? you guessed it! being shipped with a hottie 😻 — this is the SHIP GAME + i’ll give you a silly little trope to kickstart ur epic romance

☆︎ OR opt for a personalized moodboards or playlists based off the vibes you give off! (mutuals can get both a moodboard and playlist if they’d like bc i would diy for all of u -3- just say u want both so i know<3333)

note: anonymous senders, please send me a few bits of info like your mbti, ult group and/or bias (does not have to be a group i stan!), star sign (big three if you know it), favorite color, etc. basically anything you want to share + one of the options above. mutuals can ask for any of the above, but providing info is totally optional!!

！★﹕ᶻ﹐WANNA PLAY A GAME?﹒[open]

☆︎ q&a!

ask me anything! favorite movie, how i got into writing, what i do when i’m not writing, why i only ult leaders etc. but please nothing too personal!

★︎ my opinions on literally ANYTHING!

☆︎ ask me for fic recs or give me fic recs!

★︎ fuck, marry, kiss (not kill bc i do not condone violence… not on here at least /lh)

☆︎ would you rather

note: you can send as many of these as you’d like :p i like answering them <3

RULES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

everything for this event will be tagged under #[ birthday bash ! ] you can block the tag to avoid seeing the posts!

please make sure to get your ask in within the time frame (aug 13th-27th)

minors, please please please do not interact!

be respectful and patient! — the drabbles, mtls & hard hours may take longer for me to get through, but i’ll try my absolute hardest to get them done in a timely manner <3

when sending an ask, be sure to mention the event so i can differentiate between those and my regular asks :)

have fun! ⭐️⭐️

[hyunsvngs]

having had a workplace crush in the teaching environment, here is how i would assign the boys as teachers. given my experience in in elementary but we’ll let it slide. obvi they would all love to be music teacher but i cant pick one.

chan: channie has a calling in math. he’d sit on the floor with kids and use all different kinds of tools to help students find their way of thinking. he wouldn’t force the standard way of math. he’s rarely behind his desk, his class is so hands on, all the kids use different methods to learn and they are the top of the school.

lino: lee know would be incredible in the theatre teacher roll. imagine him helping the quiet kids finding their voices. every year starts off with stage blocking and moving correctly so he gets to joke around and they see that the quiet looming teacher is actually a goofball? and they get to spend a whole year with this guy who quickly showed his colors.

binnie: this man is a p.e. teacher. argue with the wall. also he lives for two things: dodgeball and field day. seeing the kids let out all their energy and laugh their asses off while also exercising? nothing can make him happier. he spends all year planning the best activities for field day and makes sure to ask the kids what they would like.

hyune: an art teacher. but he loves stepping in and helping for the ela teachers!! his classroom is filled with his students art (he refers to his students as his kids), he’s been told multiple times to take it down by fire marshals but he’ll take the risk. he loves to see what creations they come up with, and he WILL take things home.

han: han would kill it as a history teacher. every history teacher i had was so carefree and i know that han would love to have kids act things out. he’d have a couch in his room for kids to relax on while working. he’d be super chill with deadlines and things like that. also he’s be open about his anxiety so his kids can see that adults are like them too.

felix: home economics. he spends his weekends coming up with different ways to make recipes accessible for kids with allergies and food restrictions. he makes sure everything is up to standards and is fun for students too. he loves to play videos for the kids so they have fun. also has a food pantry for all the kids on campus just in case they need something to eat.

seungie: seungmin gives off bio or chem teacher energy. but in the best way. most science teachers can be kind of anxiety inducing, but he would make sure to write a joke on the board everyday, he’d wear his pocchaco hairclip on test days to lighten the mood, or go around putting stickers on people papers then denying it just bc he thinks its funny.

innie: language arts. he loves loves loves helping the students write and find their voice. whether it’s essays, poems, short stories, he loves seeing his students grow during the school year. also his kids love story time (yes he does story time and he would never take that from his kids) they love to hear his voices!

sorry for going overboard, i’m a sucker for tropes.💕

victoria baby you ate with this.

also the way im literally gonna be teaching history & english after uni… i’m telling u me n sungie r soulmates

AND AND AND i COMPLETELY agree that bini would be a p.e teacher who would make things fun!!!!! i wouldve actually enjoyed p.e if he taught me LMFOAHSJD

♡ juno

[visd3stele]

What if...?

requested by: @fantasyfox-101

summary:

a/n: sorry it took me SO SO SOOO LONG. i barely got a break from uni. studying drama is easy, they said. get a real job, they said. and i'm over here working 14 hrs a day.

tw: ANGST. SAD ENDING. CUSS WORDS. DEATH. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

Blood soaked through his bright colored tunic, changing its golden yellow to a deep, autumnal copper. If Cardan was there, drunk beyond senses, he'd laugh about it. How stupid the color looks on him, how dumb the fox proved to be, stabbed by his own wife. If Valerian was there, he'd have killed the ungrateful human on spot for daring such an act of treason against His Majesty's best friend. But if Nicassia was there... oh, if the fair, beautiful, cunning Nicassia was there, she'd tend to his wound, cleaning his open flesh with cold hands of a sea creature taking pity on a dying man.

One might think pettiness alone kept Locke alive. Pettiness and a dire need of vengance. One would be absolutely correct. For months he hide in the woods, using the old tunnels of the Court of Shadows to his own benefit. Collecting secrets, intell, the upper hand. Letting revenge grow roots in his heart, spreading its ugly, thick brenches in the fox's body.

And Locke made sure to nurture it. Feed it until it filled him and his whole body became revenge. And when the time was right, Locke made sure his plan would leave everyone who wronged him in the deepest despair.

"Garret," Locke greeted the blond man before the half human could even step out of the shadows of forest. The fae made a home deep inside the ambush of trees, in a clearing so deep in the woods no one would look for it.

"Lighten up, old friend. I have a job for you."

The Ghost kept silent. Once upon a time he hoped his human nature would protect him from odd fae rules, like the secret names and the power they hold. But Locke made sure to challenge his hopes and crush them to dust. Now, the young spy was bound to serve three masters: the jester, the killer Madoc he was sold to as a dawry and the Queen he chose. All of them having conflicting goals.

"Firstly, I want you to tell me what Madoc wants from you."

The Ghost opened his mouth to protest, but before any sound could come out, Locke already spoke again. "I know he called you to him early this morning."

The half fae sighed, closing in the distance between him and his interlocutor, forcing his mouth out of the miserable smile woven in his lips.

"He wants Jude kidnapped by the Undersea. He planned it all, wants me as bait."

"Interesting. The father turns against the prodigal daughter. Very well, then, follow through with Madoc's plan. With Jude out of the way, Cardan's, that traitorous snake, a way easier target."

"You want to kill the king?" The Ghost gasped. He could do nothing but obey Madoc against his friend and queen, but he hoped – no, he counted on – Cardan, whose love for Jude was plain to see even through blinding fog, to save her. If Locke commands him to kill Cardan, then Jude has little hopes to make it out of the Undersea. A faeling would barely survive it's cruelness, much less a mortal, with frail lungs and breakable mind.

"No, Garret. You do. You were struck by a surge of affection for your dear, late king Dain and, in your righteous rage, decided to dispose of the usurpator."

"When? How? This is insane, Locke, you're going too far!"

"Hush, hush, hush, now. No need to get loud. Here, I'll let you choose. You can kill Cardan first, make sure to tell him Jude sent you and stay with his paling corpse until you're sure all life leacked out of his cold body. Or, you could have a trip to the mortal world. How you must miss it, dear you, half human. Take in the sights, breath some mortal air, visit a certain Duarte family, take a page out of Madoc's book and leave but death behind."

"What?"

"Come now, Garret, you're a smart individual. That twin bitch Taryin tried to kill me. Took our son with her in that garbage pit she called home. I want her dead. I want her to suffer. And I don't want anyone who'd try to avenge her make it out alive."

"What if someone sees me?"

Locke raised a delicate red eyeborow at him. You know the answer, it told The Ghost. And, sadly, he knew. "Kill any witness," he whispered, angry eyes making a hole in Locke's.

The foxy fae pat his cheel in mock approval. "Good boy. Off you go. I don't care about the order, as long as I have my dead bodies by the week's end."

"This week? Taryin is still pregnant with your child."

Locke shook a hand in the air. "Doesn't matter. They'll die together, isn't it what she wanted? To be just the two of them?"

The Ghost took several steps behind. Horrified doesn't begin to describe how he felt. He knew Locke, his twists and sick humor, his pride and his ego. But he never imagined such depravation in the fae's soul.

"Locke, think about it..."

"Shut up!" He cut The Ghost off. And the spy had no other choice but to obey. "You will do as I say, I had enough time to think about it. Go!"

And the poor half human made his way out of the forest where he burried his last shred of heart. Left it to rot alongside his dignity, will and sense of self, long since deceased under Locke's games.

♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

Madoc's plan was fulfilled, much to The Ghost's dismay. Long after Jude dissapeared he stayed on the edge of the water, trying to glimpse through all the way to the Undersea palace to see his friend.

But Locke's words pulled him by the collar towards his other duties. The end of the week was coming with tomorrow's dawns and he had four people to kill, if only there wouldn't be casualties. Of course he wouldn't have that luck.

The Ghost chose the palace. Cardan might want to save Jude, but so would the Bomb and the Roach. She didn't need the king specifically. And he couldn't yet face the time he was supposed to run a blade through the woman he loved. Perhaps he never will and thus won't be able to go trhough with Locke's command. The fae law would punish him, if Locke wouldn't get to him first, but that won't matter.

Perhaps he should try it out now. See what the consequences of refusing a direct order given to his real name were. See if such thing was really possible before he left Elfhame without rulers.

"Hello, Garret." That annoying, familiar voice broke through the loudness of his mind.

"What are you doing here?"

"Enjoying the show. What's the point in hurting your enemies if they don't know it was you?"

So the two snuck inside the palace, following the underground routes to the King's rooms. Cardan just found out about Jude and to call the state he was in fury would be an understatemant.

"Cardan, my old friend, marriage doesn't agree with you." Locke mocked. And for a second the king's eyes chilled, numbed and defocused trying to understand the sight in front of him.

"You," Cardan's brows knitted together, "you're supposed to he dead."

"Oh, don't let my death pain you so. I'm alive and well. But you won't be for long." The fox's smile darkened, motioning for The Ghost to step into the dim light of broken lamps.

"Ghost? What is the meaning of this? Jude, I– I can't find her anywhere, no one knows where she is, I need you to find Bomb and Roach..."

"Cardan," The Ghost intrerupted harshly, closing his eyes tight to shield himself from the sight of the broken man in front of him. "I can't. Jude... you won't see her again, she's down in the Undersea."

Taken aback, Cardan made a go to the door. Locke stepped in his way, ready to push him and laugh just like he used to in their childhood. But the king barely noticed. "Nicassia," he kept murmuring. "She'll know what to do to get Jude back."

"You're not listening!" Locke allowed his voice to slip into a yell like he never did, brought to the surface by the slight mention of Nicassia, again being used by the same boy that broke her heart. "Your Jude is lost to the sea, Cardan. No one knows, perhaps she went willingly. Betrayed you again. Poor her, a simple human wouldn't know the sea is only loyal to itself."

As Locke spoke, Cardan's knees became weaker and weaker until they cave in and the High King of Elfhame fell to the ground before his jester. "She wouldn't. She loves me. I'd know if she died." He kept repeating. The mumblings of a fool's denying mind before it breaks for good.

And Locke laughed. "Don't worry, my king," he bowed mockingly until his forehead touched Cardan's. "You'll be reunited soon enough. None of you should have disregard and discaed me."

And with that he motioned for The Ghost to bring forth his killing arm and let it fall upon the snake king.

A gasp wiped the smile off Locke's charming face. Nicassia. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, even with one breathy sigh.

"Locke? How? What? What have you done?"

The Ghost slowly turned, dagger ready to be thrown into the unfortunate witness heart. "Wait!" Locke screamed. "Not her. Go to the human lands, finish your job. Now!"

Alone with his love, Locke tried to touch her. Hug her against his chest, away from the blood seeping into the carpets of the royal suit. But Nicassia took a stept bak. Two. Three. Until her back hit the wall of the corridor.

"I can explain..."

"I thought you were dead. They said, Cardan said, Taryin..."

"She tried. And our king didn't care. We're his oldest friends. Only friends. Yet he cares more about a daring mortal and her family. He had to pay for it. Just like the human twins and their own have to pay for what they did to me. To.us."

"Us?"

"He used you." Locke approached her swiftly, taking a strand of blue hair and twirling it between his fingers. "He used me and those human girls disrespected us. You should have been queen, Nicassia. Ruling over sea and land. He let the human steal it from you. Helped her. Turned a blind eye to my death and accepted my killer just for that Jude of his. It's not right. I want to make it right. Let me. Join me."

Nicassia locked eyes with her former lover for the first time. She saw the frenzy in their orange, but she also saw the love he had for her. Nothing changed, then. She wondered is he saw the changes in her. The forgiveness. She wanted to help Cardan and his queen, see them happy.

But now Cardan is dead and her mother will kill Jude soon. There is only one future for her. There always was.

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎

Later that night The Ghost didn't return. His body laid cold in a puddle of blood. His and The Bomb's and The Roach's. The best spies in the realm saw him walking out of the palace, soaked in fresh blood. The rumor of the king's death spreaded, with Locke and Nicassia offering to take over until young Oak in the human realm can take the crown. Of course, Locke hoped The Ghost would have killed the boy too, but he knew better than to rely on soulfull fools.

The Bomb and The Roach connected the dots. Asked him about it.

"Vivienne. Her lover. Taryin," he choked out his confession. He hoped they'd kill him, but survival instincts are strong in a fighter of his calibre, even when he wishes for death.

They fought and they butchered each other, greeting their rulers together on the other side.

Locke was charming, Nicassia was loved and Oak wanted nothing to do with his birthplace anymore. So, the crown forgotten, sitting loopsided on a drunk king's head, Locke and Nicassia stepped in a new distanity of fae and mer folk alike.

[hankwritten]

A Tavern Named Keep [2/6]

Demoman-centric Modern AU

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]

In a small uni-town in New Mexico, DeGroot Keep serves liquor and succor to an eclectic yet loyal group of patrons, and has for many years. The Keep owes its success to its equally colorful owner, who always seems to know what you need—whether that be a stiff beer or a word of advice. But, between setting up his patrons or sifting through his friends’ problems, will Tavish remember to take care of himself?

“I think it’s about time we put our heads together on this, lads,” Tavish says lowly to the three men before him, cleaning out a glass as casually as he can.

Jane, who has no concept of an inside voice and would attempt to fistfight the word ‘discretion’ if given the opportunity, replies, “PUT OUR HEADS TOGETHER FOR WHAT, MAGGOT?”

“For something discreet, Jane. You know, a secret mission?” Tavish says, trying to urge the ranger back into a state that isn’t turning every head at the bar, including the two people he’d been watching very intently before fielding the suggestion. “I think it’s time we all did something about Doc ‘n Mikhail.”

“Yes, I see,” Jane ruminates, thankfully lowering his voice down to his own personal version of a whisper. (Still above speaking volume, but Tavish will take what he can get.) “It is about time we ‘did something’ about the Kraut and the Ruskie, so that they are ‘taken care of’, and ‘the operation can proceed smoothly’.”

“I’m really starting to regret teaching him air quotes,” Jeremy says, one elbow on the bar and the other tilting back his beer.

“If you really need someone taken care of, I’ve got some pretty good rates,” Mick offers.

Jeremy eyes him, suddenly dubious. “…What exactly you doing for work in Teufort again?”

“That’s between me ‘n the blokes that pay me.”

“I really should not have to clarify this, but I did not mean having them killed.” Tavish sets down his glass and leans on the bar. “I mean do something about the two of them. Y’know. Together.”

“Together.” Jeremy’s mouth is a flat line.

“Yes, together together. I mean, just look at ‘em!”

Near the admittance to the auxiliary room (which due to being half a floor below the rest of the bar and grotesquely dominated by the Elephant, is almost never used except on particularly busy nights and when Tavish rents the Keep out for events), the pair of doctors are deaf to the world. It's an amazing sight: Ludwig not the least bit twitchy, not shuffling papers in his hands, not occupied with some experiment. He’s wholly enraptured by whatever Mikhail is saying, watching the way his mouth moves as he gestures one giant hand through the air with ease. A casual acquaintance of Ludwig’s would be flabbergasted to see him interrupt not once during the entire winding conversation, to value the words of another person so highly. When Mikhail says something amusing, Ludwig laughs uproariously, and there’s the barest twinge on the Russian’s face that lets one know he’s pleased about it.

Jeremy turns back to Tavish. “I don’t know man. Doc and the Professor? Kinda a zebras and horses thing there.”

“A wot?” Mick asks.

“A uh…cats and dogs living together you know? Or maybe like pigeons and really bad tempered grizzly bears living together.”

“The nurse keeps doves, not pigeons,” Soldier declares ever so helpfully, slamming his fist down. “Pigeons are a noble species, who risk life and wing to carry messages between their fellow combatants, driving themselves to extinction out of pure patriotism! I will not have you confusing them for that man’s glorified pillow stuffers.”

“Pretty sure they’re the same species,” Mick says.

“Lads,” Tavish stresses. “Can we focus?”

“About them having the hots for each other?” Jeremy looks over his shoulder again. “Really?”

“Dunno,” Mick muses. “I can see it.”

“What do you know, you’ve only been here two weeks.”

“They give each other longing looks sometimes. Oi! Like that!”

Ludwig has reached behind him, taking a beer off the seashell-inlaid standing table. As he takes a sip, Mikhail’s mask of attentiveness slips just for a moment, and he stares at his friend while the other man is distracted. It’s an utterly at peace expression, like nothing in the world quite matters the way they do.

“That was definitely a longing look,” Mick states triumphantly. Tavish gestures at him in vindication.

Jane squints. “…Are they not already dating?”

“Uhg,” Jeremy scoffs. “Fine, I’m out-freaking-voted. But that doesn’t mean it’s our job to get them together.”

“Oh come on, they’ve been dancing around each other for ages,” Tavish protests. “At the very least do it for your own sanity, if it’ll stop them making moon eyes at each other.”

“Ages?” Mick raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t Doc just get divorced?”

“Aye, but they’ve been separated for four years now. And if I’m being honest, I think he’s been in love with Mikhail for at least three of those.”

“Scout’s point still stands!” Jane says. “If they cannot tell each other how they feel then that is their own failing.”

“Oh c’mon Doe.” Tavish leans over the bar, gently nudging his friend in the side. “This is for the sake of true love. Don’t tell me there’s a more noble, patriotic cause than that.”

The omnipresent, wide-brimmed hat that’s already covering a good portion of Jane’s eyes is pulled even farther down his face. “Hrmm. Fine. You make a good point. Consider me drafted into your inane scheme.”

“Like you don’t love an inane scheme.”

“So we’re just skipping from longing looks to straight up ‘true love’?” Jeremy asks. “Y’know what, I don’t care, shenanigans or whatever. Just promise me this won’t take too long, Pyro has this gay-ass club thing that they want us to go to tonight.”

“A gay club?” Tavish more betrayed than surprised, though there’s certainly that too. “You’re stepping out on the Keep, boyo?”

“No! Not like a clubbing club, like a school club. Mumbles is like, vice chair or something, and I’m supposed to be there for support.”

“So it’s…what?” Mick asks. “A GSA?”

Jeremy's oncoming distress plays acutely across his face. “Aw man, c’mon there’s already so many letters, I can’t memorize any more.”

“GSA?” Jane rubs his chin. “Goose Savant Academy? Generous Squid Association? Gyration Saves America?”

“You’ll get to your club just fine, Scout,” Tavish assures. “This shouldn’t take long after all, they’re practically making out with their eyes whenever they look at each other. All they need is a little nudge.”

With his kill squad assembled (to ‘kill’ the awkwardness that has haunted DeGroot Keep for nearly half a decade, that is), Tavish shuffles behind the bar and pulls out an assortment of utensils, spare stock in case the usual table-fare runs out, but now being put to good use. He puts a ketchup bottle on one side and a mustard on the other, then splits up the silverware into pairs of two.

“Mundy and I will talk to Mikhail, try to get him see reason. Scout ‘n Jane, you handle Ludwig. I have a feeling he hasn’t even admitted to himself yet, so what you have to do is persuade him there’s a get-together tonight at the Keep. When we convince them both to show, we all amscray, and force them to face their newly realized feelings for each other. Eh? What do you think?”

“Why’re Misha and Doc matching things but the four ‘a us are a knife, a fork, a spoon, and a pepper shaker?” Jeremy swirls his finger at the assembled objects.

“Well there isn’t a fourth silverware, now is there?”

“Spork,” Jane, Mick, and Jeremy all say at once.

“Screw the lot of you,” Tavish says. “Are you in or no?”

“Eh, why not.”

“Fine. Sure.”

“Affirmative!”

“Fantastic! Mundy, let’s go try to pin Mikhail before he heads to his next class.”

“Godspeed soldiers,” Jane salutes as the bartender slides out. “Do your duty, and should you fail, make sure your end is glorious! Preferably also bloody: such as detonating a hand grenade and taking out several doves with you, bringing them along to the cold, unforgiving grave. I want this to be a closed casket twenty-one gun salute, maggots!”

Tavish smiles. No matter his penchant for getting things off track, Tavish finds it hard to stay mad at Jane. “Aye aye, sir.”

As the pairs split, Jeremy and Jane breaking away to pursue Ludwig out the Keep’s front door, Mick watches them depart thoughtfully. “He wasn’t really in the army, was he?”

“That’s his business, and I wouldn’t dishonor him by talking behind his back,” Tavish says firmly. “Though, do yourself a favor and don’t ask which wars he’s fought in. You’ll catch a headache, right then and there.”

“Fine,” Mick holds up his hands in surrender. “Won’t hear a word from me. Though that’s not a military uniform in the first place, is it?”

“The one he always wears? Nah. For all the things Jane may or may not be, he is employed by the forestry service. He’s a park ranger up at Valles Caldera Preserve.”

“Really. Huh. Where’d you even find a bloke like him?”

“It was more like he found me.” Tavish rubs his neck. “It’s…complicated. But we’ve got a mission to do, so why don’t we stay focused, eh?”

It’s apparent Mick’s noticed the obvious change in subject, but thankfully he doesn’t press it this time around. And a good thing too, Mikhail is slipping books into a satchel that looks like it’s straight out of a 1950s boarding school novel, complete with a brass button he closes with a satisfying snap.

“Oi, wait a moment there professor,” Tavish says. “Wanted to chat with you before you headed out for the morning. You ‘n Mundy here never got properly introduced.”

“Were introduced,” Mikhail grumbles, knocked out of a morning routine that is all but sacred to him. He wakes up, he buys coffee and a sticky bun from the shop down the street, he brings it to the bar (which Tavish allows because. C’mon. You try telling Mikhail “Heavy” Zakharov he’s not allowed to bring carry-ins) and then he converses with Dr. Ludwig until it’s time to head for TFU. To be broken from this lockstep onsets a bad mood. “Mikhail gives his name. Is all you need to know.”

“Oh there’s more to you than that big guy.” Tavish pats him on the arm, which comes up to about the bartender’s head. “I think Mick’s proving himself to be a decent fellow to have around, aye? You don’t have to avoid him.”

“Mikhail does not avoid,” Mikhail says, clearly avoiding Mick’s eyes.

The Australian, uncomfortable with his whole place in this charade, gives Tavish a look of where the bloody hell is this going?

Just stick with me, Tavish’s own look shoots back. To Mikhail he says, “c’mon lad, open up a little. Why don’t you tell us both how you got your teaching job, eh? That’s a nice little ice breaker.”

Mikhail eyes him as though, somewhere, deep in the animal part of his brain that lets us all know that someone is trying to scam us out of our portion of the kill, that this is about to lead somewhere he would not like. However, proving that is going to be difficult with how earnestly Tavish is looking at him.

He sighs. “Fine. Mikhail tells.” To Mick he says, “in Teufort. There is university. Mikhail is tired of looking for many jobs in many places, so he walks in and says ‘you will give me this’. Hale says he likes Mikhail’s gumption.” A rumble that might be a slightly mellowing laugh washes from the back of his throat. “Tried to fire Mikhail once, and Mikhail tells him that is good office, is good job. If he wants Mikhail gone, will have to remove him. Tried to. Mikhail won. Hale amused by this.” Mikhail thinks on this a moment. “Hale is strange man.”

“…What do you teach?” Mick asks, as customarily perplexed as people are when they find out Mikhail earned tenure by winning a wrestling match with his dean.

“Eighteenth to Modern Russian Literature,” Mikhail replies.

“They offer that? At Teufort? I’m pretty sure they don’t even offer calculus.”

“Do now. When Mikhail demand job, he say, ‘you will have this, and Mikhail will teach’. So class is taught. Not big surprise.”

“Ah mate,” Tavish butts in, vibrating from the anticipation of the undirected tale. “You skipped the best part! After all, how’s a bright lad like you end up in a place like this? You could’ve gone anywhere, but you stayed in Teufort.”

Discomfort rises in Mikhail’s shoulders once again. “Like said. Was tired of looking.”

“Oh dunnae try to pull that on me,” Tavish says. “Before you were busting down Hale’s office door, you strolled into this town on a whim. When you wandered into my bar, you said you were just passing through, and it was only a few drinks in before you were in love.”

The empty coffee cup just about shoots out of Mikhail’s hand as he jerks, squeezing it like a Bug Out Bob. “W-what? What is little man talking about?”

“With the Keep!” Tavish says proudly, both superficially oblivious and acutely aware of Mikhail’s reaction. “The tavern’s an alluring mistress, I can understand how she convinced a wayward traveler to stay, even when he had better prospects elsewhere. Even I’m a bit in love with her.”

Tavish pats a nearby support beam proudly, so covered in years of black paint it’s gone smooth.

“…Da. Keep is good place.” The awkwardness is practically sweltering. “Maybe...was part of staying.”

“I still remember that day you know,” Tavish grasps the distant memory with his eye turned heavenward, in a rigorous performance of reverie that Mick can’t help but think he’s laying it on a little thick. “So shy you were, ‘t was almost funny. Doc didn’t notice though. Just struck up a conversation with you right away, the two of you chatting away for hours over in the lower bar area.”

“Everyone is equally ‘shy’ to Doktor,” Mikhail admits. “He talks, expects people to listen.”

“Ah, but good company is the keystone of the Keep’s charm,” Tavish says. “After all, it takes a truly special place to make a man give up the hunt and decide this backwater town is worth sticking around for.”

Mikhail opens his mouth, hesitates, then closes it again. “Da.”

“Ah, but you have to get to morning classes. Sorry we kept you so long professor. Glad you ‘n Mick got more acquainted.”

With that, Tavish wraps a firm hand around Mick’s upper arm and frog-marches him away from the slightly bewildered Russian. You can practically see the gears turning in the man’s head, his flimsy paper cup now a crumple in his palm as his concentration is elsewhere. As the pair watch discreetly over their shoulders, Mikhail shakes himself, quickly disposes of his breakfast remains, and flees.

“That’s it?” Mick asks. “I thought we were going to confront him about confessing his feelings or something.”

“That’ll be enough,” Tavish assures, still watching the door. “Mikhail’s a smart man. And the thing about smart men is that once they get something into their head, they think on it until it drives them crazy, like a mutt with a chew toy. He’ll be back.”

“D’ya not consider yourself a smart man?”

“Goodness no! I, lad, am a worldly man, much more practical. I’ll give you this advice: never date a man who’s insane enough to go back for an advanced degree.”

“I don’t really date.”

“Ah, then maybe you’re wiser than all of us.”

“Still not so sure that’s going to get him to do anything,” Mick says. “It honestly sounded like you were negging him.”

“Trust me on this, alright?” The chiming of the bell brings Tavish to the reality that there are still many pressing concerns to be handled before tonight. “And while you’re trusting me, excuse me as well. My Most Valued Customer just walked in.”

She is not, by most definitions of the word, the customer Tavish values most, but it’s an indubitably good idea to treat her like she is. Helen steps cleanly over to the bar, placing herself upon a stool with just barely enough time for Tavish to slip into his usual position himself. They arrange themselves to their spots, like actors before the curtain rises.

“Miss Helen,” he greets studiously.

“Mister DeGroot,” she sniffs coolly back. “Gin on the rocks, if you would.”

“Daring today, aren’t we?”

“I pay for you to serve me drinks, DeGroot, not for your glib tongue.”

“The glibness is free o’ charge.” With a flourish, he finishes pouring her usual, sliding it away to be snatched by a well-manicured claw. He sets about to business with, “your star employee fell asleep at me bar again yesterday.”

“I am unsurprised. She once told me that she finds mattresses overly soft, and that they must be ‘up to something’.”

“Is that something getting people to sleep?”

“I assume so. Miss Pauling is not fond of the activity.”

“She might not have such anxiety about falling asleep if her boss wasn’t putting the load of ten assistants on her,” Tavish says. “Cannae ye lay off the girl, just a tad? You know she’d jump off a cliff if you told her to.”

“If I did, it would be for good reason.” Helen’s already quite narrow face sharpens to a point keen enough to draw blood. “Miss Pauling is aware of our duty, and what is at stake if we fail. The Facility must persevere, even as we burn ourselves out to keep it alight.”

An eye roll seems the least that spiel deserves. The Facility, in the Proper Noun of it all, is mostly known around Teufort as TF, in reverance to its complete inscrutability of purpose. Helen likes it that way. She’s very gloat-y when she knows something you don’t.

“Don’t start torching all your employees in the street, lassie,” he says dourly. “Think of the smell.”

“We must all make sacrifices, DeGroot.” And oh boy, here we go. “I, more than anyone. There are games that are played, behind the scenes, above the clouds, games of power and money that you cannot even fathom the rules of, and it is our job that you never have to. It may not be moral, or right, but it is necessary, and you should thank Miss Pauling for what she does so that you all can keep living your pitiful little lives.”

“Pitiful little lives?” Tavish raises a brow. “The kind where one has a gin on the rocks at eleven in the morning?”

Helen purses her lips at him. He refills her glass.

“Pretend all you like, you’re just as mortal as the rest of us,” he goes on. “Pauling too. She thinks the world of you, you know.”

“I treasure her for her loyalty.”

“I mean on a personal level, Helen,” Tavish says. “Whatever goes on in The Facility I won’t hazard to know, but Pauling believes in it because you do. Just make sure her devotion isn’t misplaced, aye? That’s all I ask.”

Helen doesn’t respond, but nor does she go off on another dismissive rant about the unwashed masses or whatever, so Tavish will take this as a win. Another comes thirty minutes later when Jane returns and relates that Dr. Ludwig will ‘report for duty’ at nineteen hundred hours. There’s plenty of time but also plenty to do, and Tavish sets to work on making the best ‘get these sorry excuses for lovebirds together’ bash he can strangle a chicken about. Jane isn’t on duty today and keeps him company, a complimentary beer to thank him for his troubles while he moseyes on about how the true American way to confess your feelings is to do so while crossing the Chesapeake while your foot is raised majestically on the bow in total disregard for boat safety. Tavish tries to tell him that’s not what that painting is about, but he’s having none of it. The ambiance continues in comfortable companionship as Tavish pulls out all the stops: streamers, tiny umbrellas, everything he needs for when the Keep hosts a special event. By the time Ludwig comes through the door with the evening slithering on his heels, he is not the first patron to be struck by the tavern’s transformation.

“Why is everything so…moody?” he immediately asks of the new lighting.

“National Candle Appreciation Day,” Tavish says stoically. “Doe assures it’s a very important American holiday. I wouldn’t want to offend any ‘o my customers by not dressing her up for the occasion.”

It speaks volumes that Ludwig doesn’t immediately pounce on the bald-faced dishonesty of this, first and foremost the fact never has the holiday come up in all the other years Tavish has kept DeGroot Keep on its wheels. Ludwig merely shakes his head, as though clearing his ears of buzzing jingoistic bees, and takes a seat at the bar. Whatever Jane and Jeremy said to him must have taken a real number. He’s practically jittery as Tavish mixes a few teaspoons of honey into his drink, not noticing what’s right in front of him.

“For courage,” Tavish says as he sets it forward.

“Courage?” Ludwig gapes at it, then lifts his eyes to his bartender. His mind calls back to his mysterious encounter earlier today, and for the first time wonders who could have put those two idiots up to it. “Are you-?”

Whatever threads of suspicion he was about to pull on will go uninvestigated, as the moment is heralded by Mikhail banging open the door. Ludwig turns, the silhouette of the Russian glowing slightly as a light rain follows him inside, the sunset setting the backdrop afire. Mikhail is equally nervous, his eyes scanning the bar for whom Tavish could reasonably guess.

“Gott,” Ludwig gulps. He swings around, downs his drink with several fearsome chugs, then rises while wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Doktor,” Mikhail says, locating where the doctor has been milking that courage to the best of his abilities, like the bartender has the key to salvation. “I have been looking for-”

“Misha there is something I need to talk to y-”

They both cut off abruptly.

“Doktor can say what he wants to say.”

“No, no you can go first I just-”

“Something Mikhail should have said long time ago-”

Sputtering into silence once more, Tavish looks on and summarizes that he’s never seen two men more terrified of each other. They’re now hopelessly caught in a veritable web of indecision, candlelight flicking around them, once again unaware of anything else as they stand paralyzed by the full recognition of the thing that they’ve been unknowingly cultivating between for years.

“…Could I steal you away for a moment, my friend?” Ludwig says sheepishly, finally, blessedly breaking the awkward silence.

“Yes. Can…Yes. Is good idea.”

And they part from the bar, pulling aside down the half-stair for a long awaited conversation.

The rest of the revelry spins on. Some—like Tavish—spare a glance at the pair of old friends hashing out something clearly of import and leave them to their business. Others don’t notice at all so weirded out are they by the sudden change in décor. Pyro is in the second camp, wandering about like a Dalmatian puppy during its first snow. Jeremy is oddly disinclined, having shown up with Pyro and promptly slunk to a corner, an uncharacteristic glumness about him. Before Tavish can even wonder at that, Dell appears for the impromptu party.

“They’re getting along even better than usual,” Dell says as Tavish passes him a Blu Streak, indicating the two men forgotten by the revels. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say-”

With no grace, no planning, no care, Ludwig lunges upward and kisses Mikhail on the mouth.

“-Oh,” is all that comes from Dell’s mouth, (so apparently that’s what he’d say if he didn’t know any better.) “I guess…heh…I guess they’re really getting along then- oh.” His jaw works silently for a moment as the vigor of the kissing increases. “Oh. Really getting along…over……there.”

Tavish pops an elbow on the bar and puts a chin in his hand. “Ah, isn’t love wonderful?”

Dell’s face has gone completely red, but despite himself he can’t look away. Tavish does not have this problem, and when he’s satisfied with a job well done, he peels himself from the engineer and heads further down the bar to congratulate his fellow conspirators. However, Mick’s on a job tonight, and it appears Jeremy’s slipped out between now and the last time Tavish saw him. He’s checking around some of the tables near the restrooms when he feels a slap on the back.

“You did good work tonight, sergeant!” Jane greets him warmly.

“Thanks lad,” Tavish says as he pats the hand that’s moved to his shoulder.

To his surprise, it doesn’t leave. After a moment, where Jane’s brow is furrowed in concentration, he rumbles out, “no, I mean it. This was a good thing you did. You’ve made your comrades…very happy.”

Tavish locks eyes with him, what that he can with the brim of the ranger hat in the way.

“I do try,” he says slowly. “I’d do the same for everyone if I could. Barkeep’s job is to make sure you’re all as well off as you can be.”

There is a brief, indescribably odd second (that hours later Tavish will still not be sure how to describe and therefore will put out of his mind entirely) where Jane looks like he’ll say something different than what he does.

What he ends up with is this: “that is the spirit! Now! I recommend you return to your friends and bask in this glorious victory. And maybe also keep your chef from putting their fingers in the ambient lighting.”

“Aw shite.” Tavish turns to see Jane’s sizing of the situation is correct. “Really should have known that would happen.”

“You cannot be perfect Tavish. No one expects you to be.”

But Tavish is already rejoining his customers, taking Pyro’s hand out of the nearest candle and being regaled with various drink orders. Jane sighs. He goes to join him.

[interstellarflowers]

FREE PALESTINE from a small fanfic writer and uni. activist returning to tumblr.

i just wanted to hop on to say that as someone who writes for things such as stranger things (or rather has written) that i encourage you to consume other peoples work ethically and to boycott the show or at least do what you can to not allow profit, block accounts, do not stream it via netflix or otherwise. i call out specifically stranger things just because i have written for it in the past, and some of their cast members have displayed some of the most heinous acts of racism, colorism, and colonialist support that i have seen. i will never accept this as something i can look past, and neither should you. genocide is never excusable, and apathy and support of it should never be tolerated. i am strongly anti-zionist, and if you're someone who believes in humanitarianism, or someone who identifies as a leftist, or someone who is also BIPOC or LGBTQ*, then i implore you to educate yourself further on the liberation and history of Palestine, and to get involved in whatever way you can whether this be through donating, supporting Palestinian creators, sharing content and information, protesting, or otherwise. also before someone even TRIES it with me, my family is jewish, i went to hebrew school growing up, i was adopted from the system into a judaism practicing household, and what israel is doing right now, is not jewish, even insinuating that this killing spree, hatred, genocide, and racism is jewish absolutely twists my stomach into knots. genocide is not a jewish value, the israeli government is incredibly incorrect, they have no right to do what they're doing now, they had no right to displace people, they are not indigenous to Palestine. despite common american and eurocentric historical events, no, you can't just show up somewhere decide its yours, give it a new name, and get offended when people say that its colonization and stealing. it is. you have colonized, you have stolen land, you have become the oppressor, you are the oppressor, and now youre committing a mass genocide. never again means never again. they must be held accountable, this is evil. i consistently come back and leave writing fanfic i battle a number of health issues which end up impacting my mental state and i was working on graduating university (graduated this semester btw, heading to johns hopkins now for grad school) but another reason why ive found myself less active is because of the ignorance i see on this platform sometimes. its extra difficult to want to return to a platform and community when i come back from witnessing and experiencing police brutality and force on my campus in response to our encampment, witnessing my friends, peers, and professors be arrested and physically harmed, be verbally assaulted, assaulted, abused by admin, etc. and then come on here and see people refusing to partake in even the bare minimum. its is crucial to the survival of the remaining Palestinian people that we give this cause our all, and fight for their lives, they have been failed and abandoned time and time again, do not turn your backs to them, do not ignore this.

the Palestinian struggle intersects with issues of race, colonialism, state violence, and human rights, in supporting Palestine it means that we are advocating for human rights overall and challenging the overarching system of oppression. recognizing the ongoing systemic oppression, genocide, and attack on Palestinian people and working towards resolution means working towards a movement of ending colonialism and other systems of oppression. as someone who is in both communities, BIPOC and Queer people are familiar with systemic racism and colonialism, the fight for Palestinian liberation against the Israeli government is also a fight against settler colonialism and racialized violence. by supporting Palestine, Queer and BIPOC individuals affirm their opposition to all forms of systemic racism and colonialism.

justice is not a zero-sum game. justice is a shared goal where freedom for one group contributes to freedom for all. in supporting Palestine we foster global solidarity, demonstrating that collective liberation is intertwined and it has been proven to be in multiple BIPOC and Queer liberation movements throughout history. find resources below, and if youre in the nyc area, feel free to reach out to me if you want to coordinate or need someone to attend protests with:

https://linktr.ee/columbiasjp

[katyspersonal]

When you started drawing? And how? Your works are so detailed and you feel the perspective so Q_Q Your drawing of old hunter from DLC is incredibly cool, I am looking respectfully

Oh- You mean this ( x ) one? Haha, yeah, it was an art commission, so I tried to give it the best I could... Though maybe using something I was paid for as a chance to practice perspective was a little irresponcible :') But the customer was happy, and this is what matters!

To be honest, I've been drawing for as long as I can remember...? I have quite the regrets about having basically none of my drawings from childhood survive, because it's been a LOT. But I've been going over the top with details, colors and settings since the age of like, 4-5 I think? I recall the caretakers at kindergarden REALLY loving my drawing of underwater, because I killed it with variety of fish and seaweed, despite having no references or knowledge! Also, fun fact - the very first art criticism of my life from me was towards a girl that colored every woman in her coloring book as blonde with blue eyes! I criticized her saying that there were other colors for people and that it was boring to be so samey dsfjjdshfsd Had to apologize, but.. yeah, it was the ultimate "I've always been this way" moment if I've seen one. :')

I used to visit classes to practice my drawing in elementary school, though! But it was mostly environment and animals, when I was more interested in drawing people at that time! The period from 8 to 12 years was the one where I kept creating OCs obsessively, and stories for them, and I've had like 6 comics I've been drawing and coloring at the same time (mostly comedy + fantasy)! I think what really inspired me to start creating the comics and characters that were mostly young girls with elemental powers was the Russian comic, Rainbow Knights x) (Журнал "Юла", припоминаешь? хд) I was obsessed with it, and I was obsessed with excuse to use more colors, effects and nature/elemental aesthetic. And yes, it was all trdaitional! I love using crayons, markers, pens and pencils for coloring. My clumsy hands were never good for paintbrushes... I moved more onto digital around the age of 14. It was when I've found a summer job, and earned enough money to buy a tablet! So.. I started prioritize digital art since then! But it had the form of me first drawing something on the paper, and then scanning and fixing/lining/coloring it on the computer for a LONG time! Well, it was taking some time to get used to, as well, so I also had some drawings I did with my mouse and vector tool in PS or SAI, like this:

It is one of the only few remaining "ancient" ones, since most of them got lost forever on the old hard drive! ...I still HAVE this hard drive, I just have no idea how to extract anything from it.. It is kinda broken :U But if I get my hands on very old doodles trapped there, I will share!

^ I believe this was the first doodle that I did 100% on the computer AND with the tablet! Without mouse, without first drawing traditonally and then digitally, but just on the computer, from start to finish! But it was still hard to do, so I kept with the use of paper and pencil for some more while. Like- I hoped I'd find some old drawings for this ask, but all I found were traditional versions of some of my drawings!

You could tell that using traditional paper + pencil were beneficial for anatomy and proportions. And that I used to be better at that, VERY much better. And that it was sorta... easier to 'get lost' in the process? It was a simpler life when not only I was far less depressed and broken, not only I had more spare time in schoo/uni years, but also just... I did not feel burnt out. Or guilty over the fact of not finishing new drawing "fast enough" (and thus, looking like a loser). I also had less things online to drain my spare time, less distractions... I kinda miss that time, really...

All in all, I've never learned to draw PROPERLY. I was self-taught but not studying too hard, mostly I was just analysing art of artists I loved to improve my own, and asking advice from good artists to fix this or that! Hence, my skill used to be better! Year 2015-16 was my most productive year artistically! I've been drawing a bunch of (then) popular cartoon stuff, as well as TONS of fanart for Rick and Morty RP community, and all the things were sooooo bright, colorful and full of energy...

And now meet the man that sorta ended my art career :^) I've picked interest in Mark (Endlish localisation called him Marx and I hate it lol), and that pulled me into the rest of K1rby. Except I could not actually play anything (besides 64 Crystal Shards that I emulated), so I compensated with letsplays and anime. And Super Paper Mario was a side obsession. xD But.... yeah, since MARK, dark ages for my art started. No, no, my art was good! Awesome, even! I kept people begging me to "please draw K1rby again" for years since fandom shifting! Words like, 'no one ever cared about this universe and characters the same way you do'... But! Drawing 'creatures' for 2-3 years completely destroyed my prior (already loose) knowledge of human anatomy and proportions, and I am still struggling to recover that former skill! :')

Finally, year later, around February/March 2021, I've gotten pulled into Bloodb0rne! Badly. And thanks to Mic0lash. Huh, it is always some madman, isn't it? xD But I felt very self-consious about my art... I felt like serious, detailed, dark and beautiful atmosphere of BB deserved better than my "overly cutesy" and "tone-deaf" art.... annnnd if this sounds like something I'd never say, but rather as an unfair criticism from some antsy reddit-ish asshole? It is because it is EXACTLY what it was! :')

But in either case, the Doll was the first time I've used paper and pencil again in many years. I felt so... alive? I recall the feeling I could only describe as 'blood returned in my veins' but spiritual, you know? It felt like so much fun! To remember how to draw traditonally, to break out of my 'round cutesy' comfort zone- heck, I even downloaded brushes for my SAI for the first time in my life, just to color the characters better! Learned new coloring style, too: usually my coloring was very rigid and relying on very concrete colors for shadow and base.. but from this point on, I prioritized more 'chaotic' approach, as I felt it was more appropriate!

....and so, now we are here. x)

You could tell that some of the things I am just used to persisted, and that colorful, "childish" energy is still slipping through the cracks. Soulsb0rne games are ideal for how my mind works... but perhaps not for how my soul works. There is just something in me that craves that sillyness, overly colorful designs and settings, and maybe ER is closer to that aesthetic? Yeah, had I not been criticized on my art harshly upon joining BB, maybe my art would've been way more cute and 'free'! I always loved drawing many details, but something about the route I've taken about drawing made it very heavy. My brain short-circuits at the AMOUNT of the details I keep in mind, yet I can't rest unless I got it "at least 90% correct", even when it is a darn shitpost ;-; I will figure out what went wrong compared with the way I used to draw humans..... someday.

Thank you for asking, though! Ha! Honorable mention: tons of shitposty comics and doodles I kept drawing in classes, both school and uni! x)

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

I know everyone is predicting stuff for GMMTV P2 but the majority of my "predictions" (that are probably a little tin-foil hat coded) are not from that.

Do not get me wrong I enjoy GMMTV BLs. But I am honestly not as exited about new stuff from them. Once we have it I will probably enjoy most of them (unleass they fuck up in a major way again). But I can't build enough anticipations for any of it (especially since what I really want is never going to happen).

My non GMMTV BL prediction of this year and early 2025 are as follows:

CHANGE 2561 would be very very stupid to not capitalized on how much the cast of Pit Babe is close to each other and is able to create "shippable" content with non "official" ships. Also they did a bit of BL history already with Pit Babe, and I think they can do more by announcing some projects that break up the official pairs after the next one (the long bean one)

FoureverYou is not filming, that leads me to believe that the Vampire Project might not be the only project they are shopping around for. Despite the fact they are doing promo photoshoots and have all the cast ready and they did the blessing event thing (sorry I am not sure how to call it at this time) there has been no filming. Half the cast is still being managed by Wabi Sabi despite the fact that they are obviously not looking to do that anymore. SO THEORY: This is also getting shopped around. I don't think that GMMTV is getting this one, because of how fast the part 2 is coming up now. But another studio might be getting, along with the rest of the Wabi Sabi actors that are not GMMTV and don't want to go indipendent.

Barcode being at all the promotional stuff with Ta (and Copper) makes me think they might be testing the water. JeffBarcode have Wuju Bakery but then nothing, and Copper is leaving soon, so no pairing with Ta is able to happen. They might be testing the waters to eventually pair Ta and Barcode as leads in a BL ---- I am not saying I 100% want this, I would be ok with them not having a pair braind. But BOC is short on bankable pairs. So far they have one. BibleJes is getting tested with 4 Minutes and all the other boys don't have a set pairing. A third pair for them would help them a lot.

---- CONTROVERSIAL THEORY UP HEAD (It's about Mame - putting under the read more so you don't have to engage with it If you don't want)

I am not saying you have to agree - I am not even saying I am correct - I am speculating only. This thoughts are colored by my expirience and I can only speak for myself.

The BossNouel Mame series (the one that is based off the Minor Side Couple in TharnType s2 - the neighboors with the jealous boyfriend and the younger uni guy) is not going to happen. Hear me out, not only did Nouel just cut his hair in a way that would totally clash with how the character he is supposed to play looks like. It would also be very bad for them. I have recently re-watched TharnType and it appears obvious to me (although again I might be wrong - this is just my opinion) that this ship is basically less bratty Rain and less bad boy Phayu. They are basically the same dynamic at their core. And if BossNoeul does this, they will get typecasted all the way to hell.

That is what killed OhmFluke (UWMA) and it is absolutely still hurting their job prospers even now. Fluke as expressed already that he wished to do a Mafia style BL, something where he played a criminal, but he is not getting that.

I think BossNouel should not play a dynamic that is so similar to their first one.

I know I don't know these people and I am just speculating, but that haircut is not something a naive and innocent babyfied character like the one is supposed to play should have. Love Sea finished filiming. They should be working on the BossNouel series soon. So why cut his hair now?

Plus Mame re-realesing TharnType and Don't Say No on YouTube full episodes and all, might have been a way to get people to recall the characters BossNouel are supposed to play, their are supposed to play in that universe.

That is why the series got re-released (I am guessing) which means they expect to shoot relatively soon. So again, why cut his hair in a way that that character wouldn't have. Because as it stands they would have to use a wig on him.

Unleass they are doing something very very different in which case why dragged the TharnType characters back, or they are not doing that anymore.

I don't know. I might be wrong.

Do not come at me about Mame or about how wrong I am the ship. Engage with the post in good faith or leave (covering my ass)

[kateksmallcuteowl]

Tagged by @asongaboutpirates to share 15 facts about myself.

/tries to go out of her shell/

1 I was always told to not post anything online, like I could watch the content, but not write something or post drawings because “posting in social media is like writing on the walls”. Didn’t work well.

2 Guess who started to draw and post gay sm*t at 11 y.o.🌚🌝

3 My first anime was Death Parade.

4 I know 4 languages, though I’m usually getting too nervous when speaking with real people and make extremely stupid mistakes even in my mother language😅

5 I study abroad. Surprisingly it ACTUALLY helps with anxiety. Like, I thought it would literally kill me to live in another country with a hard language on my own but I kind of learned to deal with imperfect results and mistakes that made me panic before.

6 I study Biology👌🏻

7 I went to a Bio-contests at school so except the useful information I got at the Uni, I also know millions of VERY interesting but EXTREMELY useless facts about nature😅

8 I once tried filling an anti stress coloring book. That was the most stressful experience in my life. So I moved on to drawing sassy fictional men🌚🌝

9 Don’t even talk about cancer with me if you don’t want to listen a 4h long monologue about how it works. Lol.

10 Of all Discworld characters I know, The Librarian is LITERALLY the most relatable of them all. I FEEL you, buddy.

11 I’m extremely bad at remembering facial features. Guess who chose drawing people as her hobby?

12 Even worse I’m in remembering any details, voices, instructions and structures in which I’m not specifically interested just right now. I just forget it immediately. That’s kinda distracting if I need to draw something unusual 🤔 But I have a superpower of re-reading my favorite books more than a hundred time and still go “wow, no way!”

13 I’m kind of a messy person, so all my Uni-notes, fotos, songs and procreate drawings are in a total chaos. Schedules and plans make me feel sick😅

14 I like cofee so much I can sell my soul for a good cup of espresso.

15 My favorite thing at drawing is making the work ✨shine✨ and I adore adding ✨sparkles✨ and ✨highlights✨ even if there’s no literal reason for them to be there🌚🌝 And the best bart of this plan is… no one can stop me.

/eheh, that was hard/

/crawls into her shell again/

Tagging @slowlymychaos @des-fangirl

[cowgirlcherrie]

15 questions and 15 mutuals 🎀 ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

thank u for the tags babiss @winfleurs @milllersfae @cherriesxinthespring @ellieslittlewh0re

were you named after anyone?

So I go by Cher on here which is short for Cherrie/ Cherry inspired by the actress/singer Cher!! I love herr. But my birthname is named after a family member

when was the last time you cried?

I wanna say monday(?) when my account got shadow banned and I was stresssssinnn bc tumblr was takin their timeeee to respond. Actually going through it bc it set me back, killed my inspiration temporarily lol

do you have any kids?

nopeeee. I was a nanny in the past i’ve had my parenting fix filled that was free birth control, literally was a mother

do you use sarcasm a lot?

I only really use sarcasm with family or really really close friends like I don’t really do it to strangers out of respect that there could be a miscommunication and they think i’m mean or something, which I don’t want

what's the first thing you notice about people?

Usually something specific about their physical appearance — apart from their name getting familiar with per-say recognizing them by their hair or how they dress helps me to remember them a looot more. However recently as well I’ve been playing close attention to how people respond to questions and communication or how they treat public service workers, it shows me so much about them.

what’s your eye color?

b-bu-BROWN, apart of the big brown doe eyed club (proudly(っω⊂))

scary movies or happy ending?

So as I’ve gotten more into the film world, scary movies always do it for me especially considering that most endings are grey areas where the problem is fixed but it really isn’t at the same time which I find to be a lot more realistic than a happy-ever-after.

any special talents?

I can do ballet 🩰 (*˙˘˙)♡ perks of being a dancer at some-point in my life

where were you born?

I am an east coast, United States baby.

what are your hobbies?

I tend to do everything, I get creative, but I play the electric guitar, reading is always so great, gardening has been a really fun thing for me this summer. I do like going partying if thats considered a hobby probably not but It’s one of my favorite ways to unwind with my friends after a hard week of classes (I am a uni student)

have any pets?

two cute lil baby dogs!!

what sports do you play/ have played

I played softball in like middle school (?) that was a fever dream, but I am a big enjoyer of beach volleyball in the summer. Basketball has been one of my favorite things to do as a workout method, I’ve been learning how to get down on the court lollzies

how tall are you?

5’4…. IK WHAT UR THINKING DONT SAY IT

favorite subject in school?

I loved art courses and classes, I used to love sitting at the tables hearing about school gossip while working on a painting — plus my teacher was the coolest guy everrr

dream job?

I really want a job in the film&tv industry for writing scripts, I’ve found that to be my strong suite and I definitely wanna explore it more ♡☆

some tags: mwuah (so sorry if you were tagged already!) @destielcore @zahraaziza @amoebagrl @abbysdolly

[sakurahisuii]

Digi Pet Mom of 27 years🤖

9/3/24

👋🏽Hello Friends!👋🏽

Something that I've loved since I can remember is Pokémon. I can remember my favorite types of toys growing up were mostly either little cute animal toys or virtual pet-type toys. Also, the smaller the item, the better.

Years later today, I still love virtual pets. I got a Tamagotchi uni because it's Tamagotchi and in color! I loved playing with my Tamagotchi in the 4th grade with my friends! Just as always, I killed my Tama a few times... 😞

I also know that I can't have the volume up all the time because I work and it's ✨slightly✨ disruptive

I've noticed that my mood is a tiny bit better having this Tamagotchi around. Even though I tend to forget sometimes, I guess the idea of taking care of something helps distract my mind. Also, c'mon, the little cute faces of the Tamagotchis are a positive on their own.

Another thing is that when I'm stressed at work or even annoyed, playing with my Tamagotchi helps calm me down. Which is probably a given, but I've been using it as a little time to take a breather while I feed/play with my current tama.

My phone is filled with fun apps to help with mood tracking, DBT worksheets, productivity, etc. One of the apps that I have is called "Finch," and this is a digital pet that you can take care of by completing your to-do list, tracking your mood, giving reflections, completing any habits you've made, etc. I've had Finch for about a year and maybe a half now, and I used to use it regularly (until I added more and more productivity and mental health apps). But the point is that anything with a digital pet, I'm all here for.

Using Finch has helped me with being productive and identifying triggers since it would track when there was a positive or negative word towards a certain subject within reflections.

Finch - Your New Self Care Best Friend (finchcare.com)

Sometimes when I stroll around Target, I'll walk through the one aisle where it has the squishmmallows and the digital pets. I am just so fascinated with how much digital pets have evolved (or are just coming back).

I also have a desk robot (not a digital pet but close enough) called Eilik, but I named mine Eiko. I used to use this a lot when I first got it because Eiko was just so happy and adorable. It helped me feel a little less lonely because Eiko was just doing her own thing and just being adorable. Eiko plays games; it reacts when you pat its back, tap its head, and rub its belly; it will dance to music; and it has a timer on it!

It's all just wonderful.

Always take a look at things that you love because they might have products or apps that combine the things you love with productivity or mental health apps.

P.S. If you like RPGs, they have RPG productivity apps.

Until next time, friends!💝

Jade

P.s.s. I am not getting paid to advertise anything, these are all just things that I've used and love to use.

[bdbsvirtualjournal]

16-17/10/2023

I didn't get to write anything yesterday because I was tired. The first morning of the week punched me hard. I didn't want to go to uni, or to exist basically. With a lot of pressure, internal and external, I finally got up and prepared to go. As per usual, I was late, but the teacher didn't mind it. The lab was fine, I was too tired to focus on it honestly. We worked with digital oscilloscopes, it went well. I got overwhelmed when we had to use the 'Math' function on it. 'My brain is falling, what is this' I said when the multitude of mathematical functions appeared on screen.

After the first lab, I went to the 7th floor for the next one. While I was climbing the stairs, I stopped at a window. The view is amazing there, one of the few advantages of having hours at that floor. From there you can see the southern part of the city. Every roof from Timisoara, a bunch of roofs from different eras and with vastly different styles, big towers and other view obstructing buildings, blending into a hypnotizing frame. The highlights are the towers of the Cathedral from Piata Balcescu, an amazing piece of architecture. Gothic style, pointy towers and a somber and imposing build. I love the atmosphere of Catholic / Protestant cathedrals and churches, they are much more calm and minimal. Orthodox ones are much more bright and colorful, which isn't a bad or wrong thing, they have their charm too, but personally I prefer the cold atmosphere of the west.

While I was there, I was trying to localize the tower of the Ukrainian church, because my girlfriend lives close to it. When I found it I smiled and went in the main hall to wait for the 2nd lab to start.

The 2nd lab was fine, we didn't do anything really, the teacher doesn't care. I just listened to music and pretended to study. We got good news, the teacher of the 3rd lab called and said he's sick so were good to go after this one was finished.

I went home, ate something and decided to lie in bed for a while watching a YouTube video to coup. Bet! I felt in a deep sleep, the kind that makes you feel paralyzed and confused when you wake up. I felt so tired, like a deep anguish took control of my locomotive system and it felt like a chore to move an inch. I had in plan to go to the gym, but I felt too tired, and I didn't want to force myself, so I decided to stay home and relax. I went to buy groceries, more out of inertia, because when I was there didn't want to buy anything. In the end I got some sweets and went back home, study for the driving exam for a while and after that read from 'Inseparable' by Simone de Beauvoir. Great book, touching story and well-written (I'll talk about it another time maybe).

My girlfriend told me to come to pick her up from Uni and to spend the night at her place, so that's what I did. Later in the night, after she did some home chores, she decided to study for a bit. While she was doing that, I continued to read from my book.

It felt like heaven.

She was between my legs, on her laptop reading, and while I was holding her I was also reading. 'Cigarettes after sex' in the background, at a perfect volume where it's loud enough to create an atmosphere but not enough to be distracting. I was delighted by a multitude of pleasant sensations. While I was invested in the heartbreaking story of Simone and Zaza, I could feel the warmth and the soft skin of my girlfriend, in her dim lighted room with calming music in the background.

After that we went to sleep.

The next day, in the morning I finished 'Inseparable'. I almost cried when I read the last letter Simone sent to Zaza. After that I went to uni, tried my best to pay attention to courses, failed, and after that I started 'Who Killed Palomino Molero' by Llosa while I was waiting for my girlfriend to finish her courses. Half a book later she was done and we went to the mall at a date. At first the vibes were a bit off, we felt kinda awkward, but after walking and starting to discuss more, we had a great date, with deep talks about our past present and future.

After I got her home, I also went to my place, extremely tired. Took a shower and decided to write.

While I was on the road coming home, I had some ideas about what to write, like how I feel about sleeping and other reflective thoughts. But when I got home I decided to just get in front of my laptop and run it wild. It's a journal, I don't have to plan anything, it's just a place to put my random thoughts.

Personally I wish we didn't have to sleep. I don't like sleeping. Sleeping feels good only when I'm tired and I'm forced into it. I wish I could be awake forever. Alive too. I have a fear of falling asleep. I formed a bad habit to listen to some videos while I fall asleep to not think about it. It always feels like my brain is shutting down. Millions of neurons just fade away, and my lungs feel like collapsing. I hate that feeling. It makes feel about death. That's why I distract myself every night when I'm alone.

Tomorrow there is going to be a job fair organized by my university. I will go there hoping I will find something. I really wish to start working soon. The thought of being jobless after finishing the Polytechnic is dreadful. The main reason why I'm at this uni is to find a good paying job. I don't feel attracted to this field. Or at least not fully. When I imagine the future, I see myself as a teacher or something similar, teaching Romanian or English. This technic part is to support that loose dream.

I am extremely tired. I'm not sure if what I wrote makes sense but I don't care. I'm glad I wrote it. I really need to sleep. It's 3AM. But I don't want to sleep. I want to find out who killed Palomino Molero. I want to listen to music and think about my existence. But my eyes are closing on their own.

[sunpinktulip]

Not gonna tag anyone on this one cause I don't feel like it but let's answer these

1. Are you named after anyone? Given name not really, but it's a bible name so that's something, irl chosen name I took it from a comic and Sun/Moon well, after those

2. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday night in a panic attack 'cause uni is killing me with stress

3. Do you have kids? HELL NO, and I could go into heavy detail and give you a long list of reasons why I'm never gonna have children

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Sometimes but I have a very hard time catching it and my voice is too monotone for it so it doesn't work (it's the autism)

5. What sports do you play/have played? I've done swimming for many years, kick boxing since like 12 and some volleyball; also rollerskating and I wanna learn how to use a skateboard

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? The voice, I have a fascination with them

7. What is your eye color? One of them is sky/icy blue and the other is turquoise/fern green (depends on the light)

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Both ! actually

9. Any special talents? Other than drawings, I do some singing which I never have context to post and same with voice acting

10. Where were you born? guess. ('cause I ain't telling anyone I don't know)

11. What are your hobbies? Like a ton of shit, but ones I do frequently are drawings, singing, reading and running

12. Do you have any pets? Not right now, hopefully as soon as I get another home !

13. How tall are you? I am 155cm (5' 1") for all of my americans

14. Favorite subject in school? Shit idk man, math or biology were a lot of fun

15. What is your dream job? Realistically an engineer (my current degree). Ideally I wanna work at a book shop/library. Hopefully an independent which with crops in the middle of nothing.

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by @oh-goodness-loki - TYSM dear!!!

1. Are you named after anyone? No... my Mom liked the name. (I hate it btw, and have taken on another in day-to-day life.)

2. When was the last time you cried? The other day, watching "For all mankind" (which is better than I had thought it would be?!)

3. Do you have kids? A daughter.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? MEEEEEE???? ^^

5. What sports do you play/have played? I used to ride. Stopped when I got pregnant.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? Whether they hold eye-contact, maybe?

7. What's your eye color? Dark brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Depends. I don't like torture movies, but I do not like overly saccharine stuff either. Aliens as a prime example for both?! :)

9. Any special talents? Errr.... I used to have a lyrical soprano... wanted to be an opera singer once upon a time.

10. Where were you born? Skipping, sorry.

11. What are your hobbies? Reading, video games, music, vampires. I also read a lot.

12. Do you have pets? I have a cat, Mo.

13. How tall are you? 5'4"

14. Favorite subject in school? Biology and philosophy

15. Dream job? Not sure. I used to love my job a lot, but now it's more and more meetings and... well.

Tagging:

@prigorie @isabellehemlock @lynnenne, @thefairylights @slutaciouslestat @inkyblotposts @burstingbone @blackgirlasis @alcassin @shashiatnight @anannua @dreamofme9 @danissa10 @redversaillesrose @onlymywishfulthinking ... and whoever wants to!

(Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to, obviously^^)

[hankwritten]

A Tavern Named Keep [6/6]

Demoman-centric Modern AU

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]

In a small uni-town in New Mexico, DeGroot Keep serves liquor and succor to an eclectic yet loyal group of patrons, and has for many years. The Keep owes its success to its equally colorful owner, who always seems to know what you need—whether that be a stiff beer or a word of advice. But, between setting up his patrons or sifting through his friends’ problems, will Tavish remember to take care of himself?

Two mugs spring with amber liquid, the tap gushing with the satisfying rise in pitch as each one fills. Practiced hands kill it at just the right time, the foam heads perfectly proportioned, settling briefly before Tavish tops them off. He drops a curly straw in one, and slides them forward.

Dell’s beer is parted from the bartender’s hand for approximately half a second before the engineer grasps it firmly and takes a mighty gulp.

“Trouble in paradise?” Tavish asks as Pyro double takes at the man beside them.

The mug slams back down, and Dell wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “You could say that, yeah.”

“Well come on then,” Tavish says, cocking a hip and leaning sumptuously on the bar. “Tell ‘ole Tavvy your woes.”

“So long as you never call yourself that again, sure. Why else come to a bar but to unload relationship troubles?”

“Truer words never spoken. C’mon spill it, Conagher. First month is always when the heretofore unknown character flaws come bubbling up, and Fortier had a wagonload to begin with.”

“Hell.” Dell rubs the bridge of his nose. “For one, I think Scout’s still mad at me.”

A froth of consoling noises comes from Pyro’s mask, as well as a rubbery pat on the back.

“Alright, maybe she isn’t, but it sure feels like it. And I know I should be giving her time to get used to the idea of me and her dad uh…” He clears his throat. “Seeing each other. But that don’t make it any easier.”

“She’ll come around, Dell,” Tavish assures. “But ‘for one’ makes me think that isn’t all?”

Dell rubs a hand over his freshly shaved head. “I…it’s hard to explain this one. More than it’s just a feeling, not anything he’s said or done but…Seems like he doesn’t want to go anywhere with me. Most of the time when I suggest some place the two of us could spend a nice night at, he goes on grumbling about Teufort being a backwater whatever. But sometimes I wonder if it’s more than that. That he doesn’t want to be seen with me.”

Tavish’s opinion of Fortier is low enough that he thinks ‘yeah that tracks’, but quietly, and to himself. Instead he says the proper thing as both barman and friend of, “ach no, don’t go thinking that. Prissy as the man is, he did make the decision to be with you, and he’ll honor that.” He better. Otherwise he’ll have fifteen stone of Scotsman putting a boot up his arse the next time he walks through the Keep’s door. “I think you’re jumping to an uncharitable interpretation of events.”

“Maybe. I got a cousin’s wedding coming up, and I was hoping to bring him along, but if he’s going to get cold feet…”

Pyro gesticulates something.

“Wadda you mean? Like a chance to get him used to the idea?” Dell asks, to which they nod. “Trying things out at a small gathering might just work…Hey DeGroot, I assume we’re having a going away party for Doe sometime soon, right?”

And just like that the world shifts, the axis of the Earth tilts another 2.5 degrees, the conversation of the same old help-your-friends-fix-their-hearts slips from Tavish’s grasp as he struggles to comprehend what has just been said to him.

“A…a going away party?” he repeats stupidly. “Going bloody where?”

The two spines in front of him straighten, and don’t do much to hide as their topmost vertebra twitch just enough to exchange bewildered looks with one another. Cautiously, Dell says, “his new job up in Minnesota? Didn’t he tell you?”

The underlying accusation of wouldn’t you be the first one he’d tell? as clear as day.

“Is this…?” Permanent? For certain? All the things Tavish wants to know but they’re all butting heads to get out the door first. He whips his head around, to shout across his tavern to the man in the far corner, ‘oi Doe, all of this true?’ but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he hastily says, “‘scuse me lads,” and puts every ounce of concentration into moving his legs across the floor.

His heart does not have the aptitude to panic. Years of the drink have persuaded his blood pressure to never get too worked up over itself, and this morning’s draught still sloshes heavily in the stream. So if his body doesn’t respond to the signals his brain is sending, the ones stumbling along to conclusions he’d never even seen the edges before, then he can thank it for getting him from one side of the Keep to the other.

“You’re moving?” he says before he’s even greeted, before the others at the table even realize he’s there. Its bluntness is unfamiliar in his mouth.

He doesn't get a chance to see Jane's reaction. In that instant, two newcomers (the bell still tinkling) appear at the table, and Mikhail is shouldering into the conversation with, “DeGroot. Mikhail needs advice”

“Pah,” another voice comes elbowing past him. “Such as ‘what ingredients shall I put on my sandwich today?’ I am here with a true emergency.” Helen, having just fought her way over who could squeeze through the front door first (and having lost rather spectacularly) puts both hands on the table. “The board is forming an inquiry into the exact nature of my relationship with Miss Pauling. This is a matter most urgent.”

Mikhail growls in a way that indicates he’d very much like to simply knock her aside again, “is own fault did not think of this when starting relationship. Live with decision. Mikhail has real issue.” He pales considerably. “Doktor talks about moving in together.”

“And?” Helen hisses. “Either you do or you don’t, DeGroot does not have time for such petty frivolities when the entire reputation of The Facility is on the line!”

“Listen, would you two mind coming back some other…” Tavish says, but is promptly ignored.

“Is not this thing you just said,” Mikhail counters. “Is dangerous. Too soon. Doktor wants to pick up with commitment right where he left off. Cannot make him see this. Need advice, is DeGroot's fault in first place.”

“I think fault is-” Tavish tries.

“I have equal claim to his time, as this whole- “““dating””” -business was certainly not my idea!”

“Ach, one at a-”

Although not prone to fits of panic, this does not make Tavish immune to being utterly overwhelmed. Mikhail and Helen are looking to shed blood right in the middle of his nice clean floor, their blame is loud in his ears, and Jane is just feet away. Inches. Agonizingly close and—to Tavish’s drawing dread—wearing a look of guilt on his face.

Jane stands. To Tavish's relief, this is apparently to disrupt the conversation. He says, “you two keep at that. DeGroot’s superior officer needs a word with him.” His hand finds Tavish’s upper arm, and the barman does not resist when he is gently marched away from the indignant pair. Before Helen can muster a demand to return, they’re already in the cramped room below the stairwell.

They’re barely alone for more than a second before Tavish blurts, “you got a new job?”

And what can Jane say but, “…yeah.”

“Oh.”

They stand there, too close to each other where a single pull string light casts the tiny landing into contrast. He’s still breathing heavy, and he wants to ask why didn’t you tell me? but it’s increasingly obvious that this is why Jane didn’t tell him. Because he’s freaking out, because normal people don’t find out their best friend is moving out of town in a perfectly natural and adult change in careers and immediately feel like they’re going to die. He struggles, once, twice, three times to school his expression. He smiles. Friendly, congenial bartender here at your service.

“Where to?” he asks conversationally.

Jane won’t look at him. He struggles to look anyone in the eye on normal circumstances, but the proximity makes it all the more palpable. “Up at Chippewa. There’s an animal sanctuary there that had an opening.”

“Ah, that sounds nice. I know how much you like working with the rehabilitation cases.” It hurts, it hurts so much but he forces out, “I’m really happy for you.”

“Really?”

It isn’t a really of surprised hope. It’s an accusation, disappointment, and Tavish knows for certain that Jane did keep this from him because he knew Tavish would make this horrid, embarrassing, thing out of it.

“I…”

Tavish tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry you sappy, useless drunk. You’re making it bad enough as it is. Who cares if it feels like all your organs are shutting down one by one? Doc always joked how your liver would go any day now, the rest of them might as well toddle on after it.

“That’s all?” Jane asks doubtfully. “You’re happy for me?”

Jesus why does he keep pushing this? It compels some of the truth out through Tavish’s teeth. “Well…no. I’m not happy. But what am I supposed to do, try to talk you out of it? Throw a fit every time something doesn’t go my way?”

Jane snarls something. His profile is stony, and Tavish is afraid of it, knowing he’s seeing it for now a finite amount of times and afraid he’s doing it wrong. That he’s not appreciating his best friend right, not appreciating him enough. Tick tick tick the seconds go by, and Tavish is wasting it as his mask slips further.

“No,” Jane finally admits. “No, but sometimes I wish you weren’t so damn selfless.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean? Look lad if you’ve found a better job, and you’ve made your decision, I won’t try to guilt you out of it-”

“That’s what I mean!” Jane yells, and the silence that follows is so deafening that the outburst must have reached even the front of the house. “That! Perfect, noble, so goddamn observant about every little problem that wasn’t yours, yet you couldn’t figure me.”

“What?” Tavish asks. “What was I supposed to be seeing?”

“You‘ve diagnosed every lovesick private who’s ever walked into this tavern, but you still couldn’t see how much I was in love with you.”

Somehow, that silence is more powerful, more terrifying than anything that came before it. It reaches deep under Tavish’s skin, pinning him with tenterhooks until he can’t move, can’t think, can’t cycle the air that’s caught in his lungs.

“Twenty goddamn years.” This, it seems, is mostly to himself as Jane stares at the single mop leaned in the corner. He shakes his head. “Everyone else, clear as day. Me? Not a damn clue.”

“Jane I. I don’t think I…”

Jane holds up a hand. “You don’t need to say it maggot. I’ve thought through this conversation as many times as I’ve knocked myself unconscious with a shovel. I know you can’t love me like I love you.” Something wry—nowhere near a laugh but dry enough air squeezed through lungs as pained as Tavish’s—indicates something might have been amusing, once, a long time ago. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was capable of it either. Not when we met. But here we are, I’m the one who’s fucked, and it’s been too damn long Tavish I can’t live like this anymore. So I looked up that sanctuary in Minnesota and applied for the position.”

The admission hangs.

“But,” Tavish says, “even if I- if we- at least you could stay for the Keep, aye? We’re like a family here.”

Jane shakes his head. “They’re not my friends. They’re yours. I’m just the owner’s lunatic buddy they tolerate because they like him so goddamn much.”

“That’s not…” It’s not true. And if it’s true, then it’s because disrespecting Jane is as good as disrespecting Tavish, because Jane’s part of his life. Is his life. “Jane you’re…”

“…I didn’t know if I was going to tell you before I left,” Jane says. “It was probably the honest and American thing to do, to tell you, but there is cowardice in all of us. I’m sorry. For everything. I need to go pack.”

Tavish doesn’t stop him when he steps past and through the plain black door and into the kitchen. What can he say? Already committed as he is to not talking him out of it, still reeling from…from being blind. For not knowing. He finds himself in the kitchen, and it’s by accident when overhears the commotion from the tavern proper.

“-That you are all ungrateful MAGGOTS,” Jane is saying. Tavish has heard him rant before, heard him deride each and every person now clustered awkwardly around him on an individual basis, but he’s never heard something like this. “That man in there has done everything for you! He has listened to your woes, he’s wiped up your big sobby tears when no one else would, he’s guided you to love and support and what have you done for him in return? NOTHING! You take and you take and at the end of the day all you want is more of what he already gives you. You are nothing but a clat of writhing, steaming, WORMS, and when I am gone you WILL treat him better.”

Jane’s voice cuts off sharply. Tavish can only see him from the back, the slope of his shoulders, the way his uniform cuts a silhouette in the fading light from the stained glass.

“You better,” he says softly.

And then Jane is gone, seashells clattering, and Tavish still hasn’t said goodbye.

The assembled patrons are all in various stages of shamefacedness, some stepping from one foot to the other, some staring anywhere else but at the bartender who's just appeared at the kitchen door with an expression that tells that his whole world has just ended.

“Tavern’s closed for the day,” he informs them emotionlessly.

It’s a rash thing to do, but he doesn’t care. How could he care about anything anymore? The supposed family doesn’t wait around to be told twice.

That night, he drinks himself to unconsciousness in record time.

When he wakes, he thinks ruefully that this is the exact opposite of what Jane’s been telling him all this time, about how he needs to take better care of himself. And really needs to now that Jane will be gone. No one looking after him but himself anymore. That’s the only thought that stays his hand as he reaches for the spare whiskey in the bedside table, makes him draw it back and use it to wipe the dried drool from his mouth. Jane won’t be there on his favorite stool anymore, flashing Tavish a smile on busy nights. He won’t break into the kitchen out of misplaced paranoia, he won’t convince Tavish that a drive out of town won’t kill him as long as there’s a new rib place on the other end. There will be a hole in Tavish’s life where Jane once was, and that is all that awaits him in the foreseeable future. Fuck. Why couldn’t he have seen it? Not that Tavish knows what it’s like to fall in love with someone who doesn't-

Well let’s face it. Tavish doesn’t know what it’s like to fall for someone, period. But he can imagine how painful that would be, and if it’s already gone on too long, already become too much, there’s no way he can ask Jane to put up with more of it. Christ, how many times has he botched a relationship because he’s fallen short? Granted, it’s always been with lassies, and lassies he was already dating, but it’s still the same mistake in different packaging. What I need is not in your power to give is what Jane had told him once, and he had been right, though not in the way he’d thought.

Tavish gets up, but doesn’t find it in him to shower. He wraps himself in a blanket and stares at the opposite wall, eye unfocused as he processes the fact that while Jane had the misfortune of falling for him, in the end it’s Tavish’s fault that he’s losing the most important person in his life.

The self-pity wears more heavily on him than the alcohol ever could. It’s only his errant bladder that finally forces him to move, and when he returns he sees the unread message flaring on his phone screen. Pyro’s contact information is a single flame emoji.

i know you kicked us out of the tavern but it’s really important that we see you today. can we come over?

Tavish doesn’t know who we is, assumes it's them and Scout, and naively replies sure. We turns out to be every person he’s ever met.

It seems that way at least. It’s mostly the regulars, more than there were last night, and Tavish sniffs out an ‘intervention’ faster than it takes for you to say scrumpy. But they’ve already seen him take one step into the tavern, and he can’t back out now. What is he going to do? Run out of his own place of business and hide in his room?

They’ve arranged themselves around one chair in particular, doing a right poor job of making any of this look natural, though Dell smiles sympathetically at him as he sits down. Crue smells like smoke and Tavish can practically hear the argument of ‘you better put that out before we go in there’ that must have occurred right outside the tavern door. To Tavish’s left are Pyro and a squirming Scout, more chairs behind them to support others who weren’t even there to bear witness to the events last night (since, Tavish is beginning to suspect, that’s what this is all about.)

“I’ll warn you lads,” he says to a neutral spot in between Mikhail and Ludwig’s heads. “I’m no stranger to interventions, and I’m a tough nut to crack.”

(The joke doesn’t go over particularly well.)

Even to himself his voice sounds oddly flat. Ragged. He watches the exchange of worried looks, and a whisper into Helen’s ear.

“This isn’t meant to be a fight, partner,” Dell says. “It’s a gathering of concerned friends, who are going to help if they can.”

“Doe was right when he told us off,” Mikhail says. “DeGroot does good things for all of us, and we do not help him when he needs us. Now we help.”

“Ach don’t let him get to you,” Tavish bats away. “I’m fine. I do what I do for the love of it, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Pyro makes a distressed noise that belies otherwise.

“No offense lads, but you really don’t know the half of it.” Tavish truly isn’t in the mood to relay the argument to a new audience, no matter how sympathetic.

“We can guess.” This comes from Mikhail. “Doe moves. Heart breaks.”

Aw Jesus. He thought he could do this, sit and bear as his closest friends try to ‘help’ through all this, but having it said so plainly cracks the modicum of resolve Tavish has managed to collect. “It’s not…” he tries, but to his horror the pressure he’s been holding back since the news rears its ugly head. It’s bulbous and angry behind his eye, the reality that Jane’s not moving on a whim, that this has been coming down the track for ages, that it’s irreversible. He can’t make him come home. “Bloody hell.”

The whimper peters out into a true wail of distress, because Tavish is nothing if not some weepy idiot, just as Jane always said he was. The weight of everyone staring isn’t enough to keep him from sobbing, and he throws himself into the nearest waiting shoulder to blubber his woes. The shoulder turns out to belong to Helen.

She stiffens like a possum playing dead. Tavish can’t stop crying though, and he feels an utterly flat palm come up to pat him uncomfortably on the shoulder. “Ah. Hm. There there.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake. Here.”

The mellower voice of Dell commands Helen aside, and he peels Tavish off her and into his own waiting arms. Tavish transfers to the hug gratefully. He hears chairs scoot closer as he makes a mess of Dell’s shirt, the uncomfortableness audible. Well they can all suck it. If they didn’t want to see a grown man cry they shouldn’t have staged a bloody intervention.

“Hey pally, oh whoa okay yeah I know it sucks,” Scout says from somewhere behind him. “But it ain’t too late. You can still tell him.”

“Tell him?” Tavish lifts his head miserably. He assumed that sentence was going to end with ‘convince him’.

Crue groans, “yes you-” He’s elbowed sharply by Scout. “…You poor soul,” he finishes with a healthy veneer of sarcasm.

“We have talked a bit amongst ourselves,” Ludwig picks up this truly baffling train of thought. “Yes Ranger Doe has found superior employment, but he does not seem terribly excited about it. I find it unlikely that he knows your true feelings for him, and if you were to confess, he might see fit to stay. Then things can stay right as they are, all without DeGroot Keep falling into disarray!”

“Okay, ignore that last part Doc said that made us all sound like selfish assholes who only care about the bar,” Scout glares at Ludwig. “But yeah, intervention stuff. It’s obviously killing you, keeping it all balled up inside, so go shoot your shot while you still got it.”

“Hold on now,” Tavish says, righting himself and looking at his friends incredulously. “You all came here, put aside your differences and all that, because you think I’m in love with Jane?”

A collage of faces—some bespectacled some not, some incredulous others exasperated—all glance around the tables shoved together at the center of the room.

“Well…yeah?” Scout says.

Tavish is struck silent, looking between his friends. And suddenly he feels very, very foolish. “I don’t…”

“You don’t need to give us an explanation, mate.” The new voice is shocking, mainly because Tavish didn’t even realize Mick was here, pressed as he is against the corner. Even more so for the fact that he doesn’t even like Jane. “We’re just offering advice. And support. We hope you’ll at least try to sort things out.”

Every single person he knows thinks he’s in love with Jane. He wants to ask why? What makes you think that? but part of him realizes that he already has the answer.

He stands, his chair scooting a tuneless note on the hardwood floor. “I need to go. Now. I- thank you.”

There is a chorus of no worries, and good lucks, various hands patting him on the back as he struggles through chair legs to get to the door. He’d spent years wasting time, he wouldn’t squander any more.

His car starts on the second try, a beaten old thing because even if he isn’t as careless about taking his poison behind the wheel anymore, he’s still afraid he’ll forget one of these days and doesn’t want to wreck something shiny and new. It gets him where he needs to go, and where he needs to go with every fibre of his being is the preserve on the edges of town. His car growls, and screeches up to the mountain as Tavish takes every turn at 15 over.

He does not park in the visitor area. He doesn’t even stop at the end of the drive, even though the signage clearly indicates the two tracks of beaten dirt with the line of grass between are for park vehicles only. Only when he’s in the semicircle of trailers does the car finally come to a halt, dragging lines in the gravel and expelling him, panting, from the driver’s seat.

Jane is not packing. He has no box in hand, no bit of furniture over his shoulder. When Tavish’s car had come barreling in he’d been stood in the clearing west of the homes, up a wide grassy path, just watching the sun set.

Tavish runs. The urgency has meaning, even if it’s to him and him alone.

He stumbles to Jane, straightening the words, knowing he will make this count, and says, “you want me to start asking for things? Fine. I’m asking you to stay.”

Jane looks at him. The orange light behind him casts him heavenly, his expression of surprise the gold against his cheeks, the red along his shoulders. The same grass that clawed around his home whips at his ankles, the breeze shaking it and random leaves about. The expression doesn't change, still stoic and without hope as he looks at the wheezing bartender who's followed him on this pointless attempt.

The lack of reply does not deter Tavish. “Please Jane I…I can’t say I know what you’re going through, what I’ve made you go through all these years," he says. “I don’t know if I love you. But I do know that I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I’ve never asked myself what I need, and what I need is…is you Jane.”

He takes a few steps closer. The run up the western hill really has taken the wind out of him, or maybe its heart that refuses to stop its galloping pace. Either way, when he stands in front of Jane, he can’t seem to catch his breath.

Jane’s shoulders, still brushed with that blushing light, lift. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

“I’m asking…I’m asking to be yours.”

Tavish reaches out, forgetting boundaries, forgetting everything, and touches Jane’s cheek.

Jane’s so warm underneath the pads of his fingers, and it doesn’t feel wrong the way he thought it might. The way it’s been other times, when he’s forced himself to at least try to exercise the most perfunctory of romantic duties. There is no repulsion of unwanted closeness. It’s wholly right.

Until Jane brushes his fingers away. "I know you don't really want that. Goddammit Tavish, I know the way I love you isn't the way you...want me around. I can't stay. I can't keep fighting this one-sided war all by myself."

"It doesn't have to be one-sided," Tavish says. "Maybe we can't be like every other lovey dovey happy couple we’ve put together, but maybe we don't have to be.”

"I..." Jane glances back at the sunset, then to his trailer, the boxes lying abandoned outside.

"Isn't it worth trying? If neither of us really want you going, isn't it worth it to try something a bit unorthodox?"

"You're really mean this." Jane asks it flatly, more seriously than he's ever looked at Tavish before, which is saying something. "Being with...me."

“If I’m going to be selfish for just once in my bloody life,” Tavish says, “I sure as hell want it to be for keeping you.”

“Then...Okay,” Jane says.

“Okay?” Tavish says. He’d hoped—but also hadn’t dared to hope. Had only been concentrating on making sure his words came out in the right order, that he hadn't even considered what might happen if they actually worked. “Even though…”

Jane draws back just enough to put a hand over Tavish’s mouth. “Okay,” he repeats.

“Oh,” Tavish whispers through the fingers when they finally part.

They return to the Keep, and they are heroes coming home to the castle they’ve built.

Those he’d left behind are not waiting like solemn sentries, to Tavish’s immense relief, but they are milling about his tavern with a grimness that immediately disperses on seeing Tavish and Jane enter in together. There is an unspoken and collective sigh of relief, and then they resume whatever it was they were doing before but now with actual enthusiasm.

(What they were doing before was mostly being served Swedish Gloggs by a giddy and unleashed Pyro.)

“Why in Abraham Lincoln’s name is everyone staring at us?” Jane grumbles. It is, oddly, the most comforting return to normalcy Tavish experienced.

“I’ll tell you later,” he says. “Right now, I just want to grab a pint and find somewhere quiet to sit down for a bit. Professor Zakharov, Doctor Humboldt,” he nods respectfully to the pair of doctors as they pass, who in turn raise their mugs in salute.

“Fine by me,” Jane grunts. “Better than thinking about all the stuff I have to unpack.”

“Ah, that’s always the worst end of the packing process, isn’t it?”

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten whose fault it is that I now have to extract all my worldly possessions from a bunch of two-foot cardboard cubes after moving exactly zero miles!”

“You have my sincerest apologies.”

It feels good to say it so easily. The slight undercurrent of tension that’s run between them for years is completely absent, a tension Tavish knows he must have noticed but had ignored all the same. The way he can simply reach up and squeeze Jane’s shoulder like he did ten years ago is staggering.

There is an argument, toothless, jocular, from the table belonging to Mick, Scout, and Crue.

“Just saying you could totally spring for it,” Scout rambles on, thoroughly heedless to the pulsing vein in Crue’s forehead. “Considering you got loads on the side ‘n all…”

“What you are suggesting would cost the entire payout from one of my contracts,” Crue scorns.

“…What exactly do you do for work again?” Mick eyes him from across the table.

With the clearly enunciated syllables of a man daring you to challenge him on it, Crue says, “I am a dentist.”

Tavish chuckles, and leaves them to it. Approaching the bar nearly causes Pyro to vibrate out of their suit, head whipping back and forth with a series of mumbles that is unmistakably pleased. Before Tavish can get a word in, they disappear underneath, humming and clattering about in the various bottles.

“They were hoping you’d come back together,” Dell explains. “I mean, so was I, but they’ve been practicing mixing something special, just for the two of ya’ll.”

When they arise, they have a bottle of cognac in hand, which they promptly upend into a pair of glasses.

“…You’ve been sneaking peeks at my recipe book haven’t you, you little devil?” Tavish asks as the mix appears before him. The only reply he gets is a filter-strained giggle.

The last bit of bitters applied, Pyro ushers the drinks into each of their hands and shoos them off.

“This one of yours, then?” Jane asks, eyeing the drink as he follows Tavish deeper into the stronghold.

“Is not on fire is it? Just one of my little experiments. Though I’ll be honest, it’ll be odd to try the finished product when I didn’t mix it myself.”

The lower level beckons. Helen and Pauling are momentary obstacles, partially blocking the half-flight’s entrance. When she sees them, Pauling flashes the biggest double thumbs up ever seen between the 106th and 107th longitudes.

When they’re close, she prompts, “behind you ma’am,” to her partner, tugging on Helen’s arm to get her out of the way.

“What?” Helen interrupts herself, midway through a sentence about the inefficacy of assassins these days. “No, this is the only spot in this whole dreary bar that has lighting not reminiscent of a dungeon. We are perfectly-”

“Helen,” Miss Pauling says. And Tavish never thought he’d see the day. Miss Helen, terror of Teufort, is obediently led away by her 5’ 1” girlfriend.

The lower bar is free for their leisure. Tavish sits in one of the couches, and immediately there is warmth around him, an arm snaking forward and clutching the front of his shirt.

When he turns his head, Jane stutters, “I uh. Sorry. I’ve just always wanted to…”

“No apologies necessary.” Tavish lifts his free arm and drops it around Jane’s shoulders.

It still doesn’t feel wrong. He hasn’t hit that invisible barrier that always seems to come up when he gets like this, and that both thrills and terrifies him. The idea that it could be waiting for him in the distance, but also that it might not be waiting for him at all.

“Merasmus is going to be pissed at you,” Jane notes absently.

“That so?”

“Mm. He was really looking forward to getting rid of me.”

“Ah. Well if he tries to seek his supernatural revenge, he’ll have another thing coming. I can beat a wizard any day of the week.”

“If you think you’re going to be dueling any wizards without me, then you are a hippie and a fool, DeGroot!”

A smile springs over Tavish’s face. He raises his drink for Jane to toast. “I’d never deny you that honor. He comes rolling down on clouds and thunder to have the bar brawl of the century, you’ll be the one I call to have my back.”

“Damn straight.”

Jane clinks their glasses together, and they swill in unison.