#on a slight tangent i have a little story / character / thought note that says

[rebloggingrexan]

[ Image ID: a tumblr comment by wokycookie2 that reads, It honestly depends on the environment. I've seen a group of kids be absolutely evil, and I've seen a group of kids be loving like in this post. Yadda yadda yadda, nature vs nurture, I genuinely think though that people are defined by the lessons and experiences they choose to learn from, and which they choose to ignore. /end ID ]

@wokycookie2

I genuinely think though that people are defined by the lessons and experiences they choose to learn from, and which they choose to ignore.

you put that in words so well. i find it fascinating that often people can be exposed to the exact same situation or content and have entirely different takeaways. i think a lot about how it seems that the mix of experiences people choose to learn from or internalize -- or that they unconsciously learn from or internalize -- are what make them unique.

"people are defined by the lessons and experiences they choose to learn from, and which they choose to ignore."

the “humans are inherently selfish” fanclub can genuinely and in all honesty go to hell. i once came back from a school yard where the kids had heaped piles of leaves and cut wildflowers on a narrow strip of grass bc a bee had died. i actually want to cry.

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 7

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,142

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, implied starts of anxiety attacks, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: whenever I reread this chapter I'm not sure whether the point of it is clear to the reader or not... but I'm not sure how to rewrite/fix it lol

...

Finally, it was Friday. Between classes, Virgil was pacing quickly down the hall when he noticed Logan exchanging things from his locker. He also saw Roman approaching the tall boy, adorning a mischievous smile. Virgil decided to slip out of sight behind the bustle of the hallway to observe their interaction, staying hidden near the walls.

Roman stood directly behind Logan and tapped him on the shoulder. Logan turned fully around, and upon seeing Roman, he opened his mouth to speak. He was quickly was interrupted, however, as Roman put his hand against the locker at Logan's side, and traced his other hand down Logan's button-up-covered chest. Logan was pinned against his open locker. Virgil couldn't make out the things Roman was saying to him, but Logan looked blatantly... caught off guard, to say the least. His pearly white cheeks were dusted pink. After a few moments, he pushed Roman aside and made to leave, but Roman grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back. They'd switched positions, Logan having put his pale bony arm out to stop himself from falling. Roman was still pulling his tie, smirking and looking into his eyes deviously. Virgil read Roman's lips and thought he saw "-if you're into that." Logan was clearly getting frustrated and forced his tie away, collecting his book bag from the floor and shooing Roman so that he could close his locker. Virgil saw Logan speak, and made out something like "I'll be late for class."

What a couple they made. Virgil felt something heavy growing in the pit of his stomach. Roman had left to go to his class as well, and the halls were becoming more and more empty as students filed into various classrooms. Finally the bell rang, and Virgil felt like he couldn't move to save his life. He started scratching his wrist and felt his breathing become uneven. No, not here, not now. He forced himself to breathe normally and made his way to his next class.

...

Later that day, Patton was lying on Virgil's bed, throwing a bouncy ball up and catching it in a slow rhythm. Virgil was seated at his desk right beside Patton, vaguely attempting to finish his French homework. Not like it'd be due until Monday anyway.

Patton and Virgil had been good friends from a young age, and usually hung out like this around twice a week. Every now and then they'd do something special, but usually it was just being together and talking.

Virgil knew a lot about Patton, more than most people do. He knew about his best friend's current... sticky home situation, and so he never questioned it when Patton came up to him later in the school day with a sorrowful glint in his eyes, asking if they could go back to Virgil's house that evening.

"Do you think they had a nice date yesterday?" Patton said after a minute or two of calm silence. Virgil looked over at him. He'd stopped throwing the ball, and was now inspecting its strange colorful surface, scratching at little flakes of plastic that hung off its seams. Virgil thought to himself how it was so strange that these types of bouncy balls always seemed to practically glow when exposed to light, even though they had no sparkles or shiny qualities about them.

"I guess I don't know. Roman might have ruined it with his overconfidence and ridiculous antics," Virgil finally replied, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. "Especially if he did something like take them to some 5-star family-owned Italian restaurant where you get kicked out unless you're wearing a waistcoat and you have to make a reservation a year in advance," he mused. Patton giggled a little.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mr. Prince," He offered a little quieter than he wanted to. Virgil eyed him with concern.

"You haven't really been thinking much of it, have you?" Virgil turned fully toward his bespectacled friend now, who was just staring blankly, clutching the bouncy ball to his chest. "I mean, I don't think it'll be much of a distraction to our project than Roman already is. And besides, I really doubt that Logan will go for a second round," Virgil dismissed the notion bitterly, and Patton wondered when Virgil had developed such a resentment against Roman.

"Well," Patton started, sitting up and pulling his legs into a criss-cross applesauce, "I'm surprised Logan wanted to in the first place. I don't think he has ever dated anyone, let alone someone so..."

"I know what you mean." Virgil got up to sit criss-cross applesauce with his friend on the bed. They looked at each other and giggled a little, remembering how they used to do this as little kids. They were just like brothers in a way.

Virgil noticed Patton pulling at his ring again, and knew something was up. "Hey," He said, taking Patton's hand. Patton looked up at him nervously from behind his big round glasses, his blonde curls hiding the top trims. "What's up?"

Patton made a noise that was something between a scoff and a sigh, looking away but not pulling away. "I just..." He thought for a long moment on how to begin what he wanted to say without saying what he didn't want to say... not yet, anyway. "I want Logan to be happy. He's a, good friend," A smile curled at the edges of his mouth. "I don't think Roman makes him... unhappy, per se. I think they could be really," Patton pulled his hand back and started fidgeting with his ring again, "close... but I don't know if, them being together will make Logan happy. W-will make either of them happy." He looked up at Virgil then, who was stoic. "I-I mean, i know it isn't really any of my business to worry about. I know I don't really know... anything about their date or..."

Virgil gave a somber smile. "I know what you mean. I feel it too. I mean, they don't seem to... clash correctly," Virgil meshed his fingers together as a visual metaphor. "They don't fit quite right into a relationship box together. And i don't think Roman is enamored with him in the way he says he is, or acts like he is." That bitter tone resurfaced in Virgil's voice again, and Patton took note of it.

He looked up, curls bouncing slightly. "What do you mean by that?" Virgil returned his eye contact, and Patton looked like he was hiding some emotion. Maybe... anger?

"Well..." Virgil thought about what he'd said. Specifically a certain song and a certain moment that had given him the notion that, as much as Roman acted confident, when he was truly falling for someone... he might act quite the opposite. Virgil felt his cheeks heat up, and Patton's expression changed.

"Is there something you know that i don't?" Patton pressed. Not maliciously, but curiosity dripped from his voice. Virgil brought his fingertips to his cheeks and wondered how they'd gotten so hot so quickly.

"Well, I, I just..." Virgil stuttered for a long moment. "I suppose it seems like, i don't know, like, maybe if Roman were really, um, that is to say, maybe, he would be, if he were really, you know, into someone, like that, like, um," He was talking with his hands too much, and Patton noticed his breathing becoming more like heaving. He took Virgil's frantic hands.

"Hey, take a sec," Patton's voice was coated in caramel. Virgil finally made eye contact again. "Breathe, bud," Patton said even calmer and sweeter this time. Virgil's attention suddenly switched to his breathing patterns, which he now noticed were getting rather erratic. He took a moment to reconcile himself.

"Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there... but, as i was saying, or, trying to say," Virgil continued to stumble his way to his point, but with more purpose this time, "... Roman, strikes me as the type, to seem... like he wouldn't act the way he does with Logan if he were in love with him, maybe," He was fiddling with his own fingers now. "but i have a feeling that he might be... a bit of a softie. I mean, what i mean is, he... If he really likes someone I think he wouldn't be able to be his... y'know... confident, jock, witty-remark-shooting self. If that, makes any sense."

"huh," Patton said after a moment of consideration. "Well that's possible. I don't really know honestly. I haven't spent a lot of time with the guy, and whenever i do he always seems to be that same confident person. Well, except with you, sometimes."

"Huh? Me? What?" Virgil was blatantly alarmed. Patton hadn't meant to cause this alarm, so he replied gently.

"Oh, no no kiddo, i just mean like... Y'know how you two are always sorta, bickering or debating or poking fun at each other?" Virgil nodded. "Well, I've just noticed, that sometimes when you make certain comments or whatnot, he sort of... Loses himself. His persona. It kind of falls away, and he seems sort of lost for words." Virgil looked even more alarmed than before. "I-I don't mean that that's necessarily because of you, I just, it's just the only time i have seen him react in that way and... I don't know. It probably happens with him all the time when I'm not around. Or whatever. I don't know. I'm sorry." Patton spoke so quickly that Virgil hardly heard each word. He was just trying to calm himself. Was it so obvious?

"Well." Was all he could muster in reply.

"Anyhow, I think I agree, at least that something seems a little off... I hope it is anyw-" Virgil trained his eyes on Patton. "I mean- I, uh, I-I don't know where that came from! I don't hope, that- I don't hope anything bad for either of them! I didn't- I didn't think, I just-"

"You just have a crush on Logan?" Virgil was still staring at Patton, mischief peeking around the edges of his pupils.

"Wuh-- What!!!" Patton couldn't say anything else; he just grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved his face into it. Virgil heard an indignant "no I don't" from the pillow as he put his hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Patton, buddy. It's okay." Virgil just awkwardly patted the shoulder of Patton's balled up form.

"Does everyone know!?" He looked up finally, his nose running slightly. He wasn't crying, but even so, sometimes when he got emotional or embarrassed his cheeks turned deep rosy and his nose started running. Just another little quirk about him that Virgil always kept close to his heart.

"Well, it is plain as day," Virgil started while Patton's eyes seemed so somehow grow larger, "But Logan and Roman have no clue, as far as I can tell. Logan wouldn't know you liked him unless... well, unless you asked him on a date apparently," Virgil chuckled slightly, remembering the bizarre interaction between Roman and Logan on Monday. "And Roman is always too busy bothering Logan to pay attention to what you're doing," Virgil propped his chin up on one of his hands. "But objectively, it is pretty obvious."

Patton was deflated, blonde curls doing their best to bashfully cover his eyes now. He put his face back into the pillow on his lap. Virgil heard a muffled "I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry?" Virgil rubbed his back now.

"I don't know. I'm sorry to Logan mostly. And to myself." His shrunken form shook slightly. Virgil hoped he wouldn't start crying.

"Ohhhh come on," Virgil awkwardly attempted to comfort him. "No one knows, and besides, it's no big deal. You'll be alright. Most likely, nothing will happen, and you can just eventually move on with your life. And heck, maybe you'll get your chance with him."

Patton's curls shook again as he looked up, eyes the size of the moon. "You really think so????" He asked in earnest. clear snot streams ran down from his nostrils and over his lips now, and his whole face was like a tomato. Virgil laughed airily.

"...It's always possible," he said almost under his breath. He wondered if he was reassuring himself or Patton more.

They sat in silence for a short moment, Virgil shaking his slender fingers through his vibrant purple bangs. I should re-dye my hair soon. The roots are starting to show.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Virgil asked eventually. Patton's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Did your mom get Grasshopper Pie again??? I love that stuff so much!" They got up off Virgil's bed together to head down the hall to the stairs.

"Actually, my mom tried making some herself this time," Virgil shut his bedroom door behind them.

"Ooh, really!?!?! I'm so excited to try it then!" Patton squealed, overjoyed as a small child would be. It was as if all of his troubles had dissipated like seeds in the wind. Another thing Virgil admired about Patton.

He hoped everything would be okay.

[mokkemusic]

GO READ CICADA SUMMER

@spades-queen​

So I wanted to write down my thoughts about Cicada Summer. Which oh gosh if you love Hanako at all please just go read this. You won't regret it! I PROMISE YOU!

I’ll put this under read more now cause I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone . So just know spoilers are under the read more.

I feel I should say this just beforehand though these are just my personal thoughts and i’m not really good at holding back my emotions. If I love something I let you REALLY know I love something and cry over the simplest details if they mean something to me. I may not have interpreted everything in the way you wanted them to be interpreted as the writer OR I might have thought a character was an OC or like that cause I am not fully caught up on the manga (I’m on ch 61 as of rn) and fair warning my grammar is horrible sometimes and my key pad keeps freezing so apologies for that in advance. Ok with that out of the way please allow me to gush :,))

This took me forever to put into words and I scrapped this twice but I think I’m just gonna go with it this time. This is a jumbled mess but my thoughts just can’t stay in a straight line today for some reason. So we’re just gonna run with this. I mean this in the nicest possible way when I say THIS FIC IS BREAKING MY HEART! I love it! I love it I love it! But the PAIN I feel and the immersion when reading these chapters is like I’m also there wandering adrift with Amane at night. Feeling the crushing weight of everything and so so empty. (Probably doesn’t help I was up till 5 am reading this the other night)

But the way you write completely does that for me!! TSUCHIGOMORI again I mean this with all the love but GOSH I CAN’T! The torment you are making him feel! (Secretly slow claps 👏🏻 in the background) Yes I love the pain. I love the genuine emotion from all this! But I won’t deny my eyes were watering. Really watering I can’t remember the exact scenes but at times there was this big lump in my throat.

I have to confess how much I love canon. I know I know it’s not something most people love. But I do I really am strange I just love more then anything either deleted scenes to canon or something that could basically be canon. I know that’s a dangerous line to tread and I’m not saying I don’t love AU’s but I just have a special place in my heart for origins and deleted scenes. The problem with most of those though is they are so out of character.. or there’s just this one particular thing that bothers me. I’m really not trying to over gush.. but really I can’t see anything that seems off (And I’m using a telescope) Your characterization is SO GOOD! Not only the characterization but the characters actions don’t seem out of character either! You really really know how to get into the minds and view points!

Particular scenes like When Tsuchigomori is talking to that kid in class who “lost” his jacket and trying to break up their argument over the ghost discussion. It’s such a not important example but it’s so true to tsuchigomori! Even scenes like that I see them in a film strip play out in my mind. His expressions and attitude about even that small exchange. That’s when you know your writing it top tier for even scenes like that.

Another example is when Amane first spots what he thinks is a white weird looking cat and meets Yako. The way you write her.., sorry I just could go on it’s brilliant!

(Ok I’m staying more focused now)I also wanted to bring up the level of significant detail. Well personally I think these are significant details cause they are a few things I latched onto and wanted to expand on this ...

I’m just gonna list them. Like I said this is a bit jumbled but it’s the best way I can get my genuine thoughts out about this.

1- There’s this scene in actual canon that makes me have a similar feeling about the timing in how you write so I’m just gonna talk about that first.  It’s the scene in the Book Stacks Arc when Nene and Kou have to tell Tsuchigomori their secrets and then they think Hanako should have to as well.

“Oh my you want to hear secrets about me? “ “No thanks but I do appreciate the offer. I know more then enough.”

I won’t go on a tangent about this but this detail destroys my soul and when you go back and re read or re watch the anime after it’s only then that it does! Cause then you know! It’s the timing of it!

The way you use timing in your fic going back to the origin story’s (not just Amane’s but the interactions with all the other people and supernaturals around him) like when Amane first meets Yako and then in my mind I think forward to when he goes

“Hey number 2. It’s been a while. Do you remember me?” .... “So you guys are ... friends?” “She’s a wonder. I’m a wonder. Sometimes it’s assumed.”

We don’t know much about Hanako’s origin. Actually we know practically nothing about Hanako’s origin. We know more about Yugi Amanes backstory then Hanako’s origin of how he came to be Hanako and THAT is really saying something. (Gosh I so hope soon will get to know some more about both) But the way you wrote the introduction with Amane and Yako before Hanako was even a Wonder... I can’t describe it but it’s that kinda detail that makes me feel a slight similar feeling to the “You want to hear secrets about me?” example if I go back now and watch the Missaki stairs episode.

It’s because of your word choices and timing (it’s seamless) It’s just the story telling itself with those details..I hope that makes some sense? I can’t think of words. Obviously you know I’m not a writer cause I’m not good at this but it was something that was a significant detail for me.

Second-Your original character of Nakamura. How her sweet and pure  personality and inquisitive helpful nature wanted her to try and see if she could see over that mountain that was Amanes guarded wall and how she just kept trying until that was completely taken away from her with his death. I really like her and I have this suspision it was an intentional parallel to Nene In a very natural subtle way (that’s just what I interpreted) to think now thinking forward how Hanako gravitated to Nene’s personality cause a part of It might have slightly reminded him of a could have been friend he never took the opportunity to let even slightly in and regretted that. Even worse with that reminder and seeing Nene at first glance and knowing she was just gonna die. You really REALLY know how to bring on the hints and detail driven Angst!

Third. I have to bring up Tsuchigomori’s and Yako’s dynamic. It always took on a most light hearted feel with these two who are basically stuck with each other for eternity. And they may or may not at times slightly reminded me of a very old (we’re talking ancient) married couple. Your dynamic and internal thought monologue from both their povs about each other were solid gold 👌🏻.

Forth Emi and Shuuya THE TENSION IN MY BODY WHEN EMI... AHHH! And then he ran into Nakamura LITERALLY INTO HER BODY! Jumping out the window and then the scene outside .:. Ahh I get chills. Chills. Then Tsuchigomori protecting his student .. his surrogate son ok I’m fine. I’m fine. :,( Anyway .. yea that was so good! 😭 The scenes were so fast pace it was shock and awe I was feeling mostly and then when it calmed down with Tsuchigomori and Amane just being there together that’s when my chest got tight again. But I’m so intrigued about Emi. I mean I know she’s established and important but how you are gonna continue to write her is what I’m so curios about. We know so little about her.

The exchange between Amane and Emi after when he seeks her out and tells her one day she will be a great exorcist and the hesitation she mulls over in her mind. Not understanding this supernatural at all. Brings me back to Kou and his conflicting emotions towards Hanako when they first met and the parallels just make me so emotional!

I will also confess I’m not completely caught up on the manga I have around 7 more chapters to go as I’m on chapter 61 right now. So unless they said Teru and Kous grandmothers first name in those chapters I’m gonna assume you chose it.

Same goes for the first clock keeper Shuuya I don’t know what to make of him as of right now and haven’t gotten to the part in the manga I think you said in your authors note that he was briefly introduced in? But again I love what you did with this! He was such a fun and contrasting character to the newest clock keeper.

Introducing this character and what Amanes first response was to him. Someone else who could see him! How that made him feel. Really makes me think of his response to Akane now and Hanako just hoping that that he can have another friend and someone to interact with and even though Akane um.. let’s go with dislikes him he doesn’t care cause it’s someone else that he can actually interact with.

The flashbacks with Tsukasa. Oh boy. Oh boy. Gosh I have no idea what to make of Tsukasa in general like it pains me so much cause I hate his actions but I feel SO SO BAD FOR HIM! Something made him the way he was! I love your flashback scenes so much! I love seeing that human small child side to him. It’s just so so sad :,( Wait how old were they in the flashback scene of the festival? Does the one in 1964 when Nene traveled back still exist in the canon of this story?

And also speaking of Tsukasa (I know this one you can’t answer cause this might be a plot point) but why couldn’t Tsuchigomori find his book? That’s what I am dying to know.

I could go on so much more about Amane and Tsuchigomori but it’s so hard for me to put into words for all the chapters so far. My next review will be more focused on just the latest chapter so this is a bit of a mess. You really understand this dynamic and it’s a dynamic that personally means so so much to me. What changed everything for me when I first got into Hanako was the Bookstacks arc. That changed everything for me. Knowing who this boy of Yugi Amane was and the dynamic we got to see with the only person who knew who he was when he was human! (I really hope they dive more into that and we see more Tsuchigomori telling us about that) Some of these themes and concepts hit me so personally and my heart breaks for Yugi so much.

I probably missed a lot but I really feel like this is just such a mess even though these are all my genuine thoughts im sure more will pop back into my head later.

Lastly if you wouldn't be opposed I may try to make something for it creatively. You know how certain fics have their own fan art and such ... 

I wish there were so many actual visual fan arts made of this story for more visualization! If only I had talent. ( I may possibly try my hand at one but I have only drawn one piece of art ever)

These are just the scenes off the top my head Tsuchigomori next to Amane on the staircase as he cries when he first realizes he’s a spirit

Amane sitting in his own desk next to Nakamura watching her sleep

Amane and Emi looking right up at the ghost of the moon in the daylight before Amane disappears from her sight

Tsuchigomori bandaging Amane yet again in the nurses office. Telling him he will eventually fade away he’s not attached to anything here anymore he’s just a drift.

Amane looking at himself in the bathroom mirror not recognizing himself gritting the phantom pain in his abdomen as looks to see it’s physically rotting away (that’s a bit darker of one😅 but I love it)

Amane telling Tsuchigomori as they watch the lanterns he’s not going anywhere again when Tsuchigomori tells him “maybe now would be the best time to cross”

Ok .. I made myself cry again but these scenes stick out to me so much. You should have fan art for them cause they are just that good! :,)

I hope in someway if you do read this you somewhat like my thoughts on this even if they are jumbled. I had to gush about this but also maybe I latched onto a detail that isn’t really brought up or something. That’s another reason I wanted to share my thoughts with you. 

Really your writing is such a privilege! I feel so lucky to come across something like this and to be captivated by it and (breaking down at 5 am over it) Thank you again for sharing this creation It’s inspiring creatively and I feel very grateful ❤️

[pandawritespoorly]

A Goodbye to With Time

Hey.

Wow.

So With Time is over now. I finished it March 20th. That was two days ago. I started the story August 10 (Did I literally have google load in all the changes made in the doc and scroll all the way back? You bet), but I didn’t start writing regularly until September 22.

The story came about because I’d been reading a lot of  transfer fics with the quantics and had fallen in love with them. I was on a very long car trip for most of July, and had a lot of time to just think. I wasn’t able to get online and read my favorites, so I was writing them in my head. After sometime of mashing a few together and adding a few things of my own, I realized I was writing my own AU.

I wrote down as many things as I could in the notes on my phone and suddenly I had something to do.

It was exhilarating.

I didn’t have to be bound by what had already been written, because I was the one writing. I brainstormed everything from major plot points to random little scenes (I knew I wanted Claude to do his pineapple-on-pizza scene before I even knew who would get which miraculous). It truly had never occured to me before that I could write my own story, but suddenly I had an idea and I was ready to run with it.

This never would have happened years ago, and it just makes me all the more proud.

I never thought I’d post it. I barely wrote it for a while, but then I had already made an ao3 account specifically for writing and felt bad not using it.

So I kept writing.

I never really thought about ‘if people saw it’ because I didn’t think anyone would. When I finally did post a chapter, I checked back after a few hours, wondering if it had gotten a few hits or maybe even some kudos.

I had comments.

Multiple comments.

I knew right then that the story would be finished. Not only had people seen it, but some had liked that single chapter enough to leave kudos and/or comments.

This story was also written when I was finally coming out of my shell in real life. My friend had finally convinced me to ask my therapist about going on medication for my social anxiety. I started on it just a week or two before the first chapter went up. I truly think that this helped my confidence immensely. For one, it’s difficult to argue that everyone hates you when there’s all these sweethearts online telling you nice things about you and your story.

It was also that I was just PandaWritesPoorly. I didn’t have to worry about much else because it was online. I could see everything that would shape someone’s opinion of me and I had control. I’ve always had an easier time talking to people online than face to face.

I loved it. It made me so happy every time I got a notification and I’d race to answer it as quick as I could. You all made me smile so much. I was a blushing squealing mess whenever someone commented, and I was so happy that people were enjoying it. 

Not to mention that I’d suddenly got myself a hobby.

I never felt like I had any hobbies, and whenever I was asked, I floundered just mumbled something about liking to read, or baking occasionally.

Now, I had something that I was, quite honestly, rather obsessed with. Once I got started writing, I could not stop, and it was my favorite thing to see my page count grow. When I hit 100 pages I was in shock.

Really though, this story means the world to me. It just, I can’t find the words for it, but it really does mean so much. I don’t know how good of a ‘goodbye’ this is, but here we are anyway. It’s currently April 4th, and it’s my first Saturday since the story’s last chapter was posted.

The responses to it have been insane. Thank you all so much for reading this, and sticking with it, and just, everything.

I love you all so much, and regardless of if you stick around, I’m happy you were here for this story either while it was in progress, or after the fact.

With Time is over, but my time with these characters is not. I have many plans with them, though nothing to the extent of this main story. We won’t see them as regularly, but they’ll stick around, no worries!

My next focus will be on A Shy ‘Sparrow’, which will eventually get regular updates as well. None of my current in progress stories will be anywhere near the depth and length of With Time, though I’d love to do another long story like that some time.

Thank you all again, it’s been a blast going on this adventure with all of you!

- PandaWritesPoorly

(P.S. To the many of you who have insisted I change my username, I don’t plan on doing so. This name is attached to my works, and I don’t want to cause confusion, though I will say I no longer believe it. Also, I like the (slight) alliteration, and I can’t find an adverb that I think fits that I also like. Anyways, if I don’t stop myself here, you’ll have to deal with a tangent.)

❤️💖💝💕💞❤️💖💝💕💞❤️💖💝💕💞❤️💖💝💕💞❤️💖💝💕💞❤️💖💝💕💞

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [23]

Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 - Chapter 24 [Finale]

➜ Words: 4.4k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ NOTES: This chapter consists of short stories on other characters in the series.

The winds are chilly, intertwining through the strands of her hair, nipping at her reddened nose. The tight toque on her head saves her scalp from drying up and causing her hairs that are increasingly becoming gray to fall out. It’s freezing and her hands dig into her coat pocket, cheeks seeking any inch of warmth as she pushes her face down into her jacket.   The mist of the water that whips into the air as the waves crash against the shore doesn’t help the situation. The old lawyer has no idea why she’s spending a precious weekend on the pier.   She works hard during the week and only dreams about staying in her cozy home, wrapped up in blankets with nothing to do. But here she is….fishing with her husband.   “Do you want some hot chocolate?”   “No,” she mutters, watching the pole that’s set in front of her, but it stays motionless as his does.   It’s been an hour of sitting here. At first it was nice to watch the sun rise, but now the lovely tangerine shades of the sky have faded off and the sunlight hasn’t been beating down on the ground long enough to warm the air. It’s miserable. Gray. And no one was here.   “It’ll make you feel better.”   “It’s going to make my stomach upset.”   “Hot chocolate?” The older man chuckles and pours out the dark liquid into the lid of the thermostat anyhow. His arm extends out and he pokes her arm. “Here, take it. Drink. It won’t make your stomach upset, trust me. It’ll make you warmer.”   Naul accepts the lid reluctantly with a sigh. Her fingers curl around the metal, feeling the warmth and she takes a tentative sip. The heat pools down to stomach, indeed making her feel better. “Did you make this using the powder in the top cabinet above the stove?”   “How’d you know?” Her husband glances at her with an impressed smile.   Yet, she is not amused. “You know that’s expired, right?”   “Ah, doesn’t matter.” He bats the air with his hand. “The expiration date is only the recommended date.”   “It’s been expired for ten years.”   “Still tastes good.”   She puts the lid down, returning her hands to her pockets. “Did he call?”   “Yeah, he called.” He sits back in the camping chair, enjoying the blue horizon. “He’s too busy to come over this weekend. Looks like it’ll just be us two.”   “Did you scold him? He’s been skipping out on these family dinners for weeks now.”   “Ah, let him be. He’s still settling down in his new apartment.”   “He’s been irresponsible and he’s forgotten about his own parents.”   “Oh, c’mon. The bird has to leave the nest eventually, and it’s not like we’ve been abandoned.” He turns to her fully with a bright smile. “You’re not lonely, are you? You’ve got me.”   Naul deadpans, “Great.”   “Psh. You love me.”   “That’s what I remind myself.”   The older man grins. He leans over, invading in her personal space. “If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t be here right now fishing with me.”   “Yeah.” A wistful sigh leaves her as she daydreams of a better time. “I’d probably be bundled up in blankets sleeping and when I wake up, I’d go to the kitchen and eat a real meal.”   “We’ll eat later.” His arm wraps around her, jackets rustling against each other. “You can hide it all you want, but I know you like fishing and spending time with me.”   “You think I like sitting out here in the cold at seven in the morning?”   “Yes…?”   The female lawyer flashes him an indignant expression as a response, in disbelief that he can be so blindly hopeful. And he sulks, countering, “it’s a relaxing hobby and it’s beneficial to your health!”   “I think it’s raising my high blood pressure.”   Her husband laughs and a tiny smile lifts on her face. They both look off and her rod twitches. Immediately, Naul lifts her hand to silence him, signaling him to be quiet. “It’s moving…” She grabs the rod and the line tugs. “I got it!”   “Reel it in, reel it in!”   “I’m trying!”   She’s reeling as fast as she can and the line curves, the top of the pole beginning to pull. It isn’t seaweed and the hook hasn’t gotten stuck at the bottom like it often does for him. There’s something on the end that’s fighting. “Oh my god, it’s going to be a big one!”   His shrieking does nothing to help and Naul spares a quick glance at him. “Honey, help!”   “O-oh!” His hands grasp the pole and they both pull together as she reels. Eventually, it comes up and there’s a huge fish at the end flopping around, some kind of trout she’s not sure of.   The lawyer grins and he cheers, both hugging each other. They’re the noisiest on the pier, interrupting the peace and okay...Naul admits it...she kind of enjoys fishing. Only kind of.

The bell chimes as the door opens. It jingles, signaling new customers, but instead of the newcomers heading to the counter, they head straight for the booth tucked away in the corner. The woman fiddling with her phone lifts her head as figures approach her peripheral vision. And she gasps.   “Oh my god!” The squeals pierce through the area, causing patronages to wince and turn to stare. Lisa can’t help herself, barely keeping her feet from thumping. “It’s been so long!”   Sebin’s eyes are wide and she bolts up to stand, smiling wide and hugging her. She motions to Inyoung who lingers, a bit overwhelmed. “Get over here! Oh god, I missed you so much!”   “How are you?” Inyoung barely catches her breath and they all sit down.   “I’m good, I’m good. Never been better actually. You?”   “We’re good,” Lisa replies, still grinning. Once settled down, they order their drinks from the barista and huddle together, tucked in the corner of the café to catch up.   “I’ve been going to school in the evenings and I got a job as a teacher’s assistant during the day. Sometimes it’s really hard, but I love the kids and it’s a lot of fun. It feels really fulfilling.”   The former paralegal continues to talk about the kids and the school she’s at, as well as a handsome grade four teacher that she’s been especially eyeing these days. Her discussion trails off into her activities and duties, the decent pay and her classes, as well as how she’s on the track to obtain a degree to teach. Once she’s ended her tangent, she leans back and takes a break, handing the baton off to the other two. “How’s the office?”   “The usual,” Lisa answers.   “Less messy,” Inyoung adds on, “and Hoseok’s a lot nicer. The atmosphere is friendlier than before.”   Sebin nods her head, making a sound of acknowledgment at the back of her throat. “Because of Y/N?”   “You guessed it,” Lisa laughs before taking a sip of her drink.   “She’s doing well?”   “Yeah, I think so.”   “She was down in the dumps for a while, but she seems pretty happy lately.” Inyoung plays with her straw and as the gears in her brain turn, and she hums, “Same with Hoseok.”   The former paralegal seems intrigued by this small detail and she quirks her head in curiosity. “Are they dating?”   “God, no.” Lisa shakes her head. “That’s impossible.”   “Is it?” The girl sitting across from her questions it while taking a sip, smacking her lips afterwards to savour the lingering taste of her coffee. “I always thought they were a good match. Balances each other out.”   “Huh. I guess they’re close these days. I just never really thought about it before.”   “Yeah, I can kind of see it.” Inyoung nods of her head, having never pictured you and Hoseok together until this very moment.   “Anyways, tell her I send her my gratitude again. I don’t think I’ve shown her enough appreciation. If I hadn’t sat down with her months ago, god knows I’d still be working there.” Sebin sheepishly smiles, more happy than she’s ever been. “I should really visit some time soon.”   Both Lisa and Inyoung insists that she should and eventually, the conversation deviates from work and from the subject of you and Hoseok. The girls catch up on all sorts of topics together until the sun has gone down, as if no time has passed whatsoever.

The law firm is bustling with the sound of work. But it stops momentarily as he brushes past. Employees turn their heads, greeting him and he nods in acknowledgment before heading straight towards his office. His personal receptionist opens both doors for him and he thanks her before she shuts it again. He drops down into his swivel chair with a slight sigh, staring out the large glass windows towards the buildings in the city.   The phone interrupts his train of thought.   “Mr. Wang, Jung Hoseok is on line five.”   The corner of Jackson’s mouth tilts. “Put him through.”   There’s a beep and then a firm voice. “Wang.”   “Jung. To what do I owe the pleasure to?”   “You still haven’t responded to my correspondence yet. Please reply forthwith.”   Jackson’s smirk grows and he leans back in his chair, playing with the hem of his black blazer, speaking loudly towards his phone on speaker. “Further to your communications, I can advise you that we’re in no agreement to your position.”   There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok counters, “Thank you for your earlier communications. Considering the tone of your voice, my office will be contacting the justice directly.”   The senior lawyer scoffs. “Are you trying to bypass me?”   “You’re obviously being uncooperative and unresponsive.”   “And you want to go over my head?”   “I have no other choice.”   “You are absolutely insufferable.”   “Say that to me when we’re in court and let’s see what happens.”   Jackson sits straighter, all too entertained by this conversation. “Is this a threat?”   “It’s a promise,” Hoseok clarifies with a venomous tone.   “Fine.” The lawyer seated in his luxurious office waves the white flag. “I’ll get someone to respond to your damn email by the end of the day.”   The sly grin is practically heard in his voice. “Thank you.”   “Just don’t come to my office like last time,” Jackson chides. “I don’t want your presence here.”   “Don’t worry, I don’t have that much time on my hands.” There’s another unusual pause, Hoseok hitching his breath and Jackson frowns before the other man continues, “But are you worried I’ll poach someone from BTS? Trust me, I wouldn’t want any of your sub-par lawyers working at Jung and Park.”   “Sub-par lawyers that win every time?”   “Sub-par lawyers that are sore losers and won’t admit when they’re wrong.”   Jackson scoffs, leaning his head back and spinning slightly in his chair. As hostile as the bantering could get, it was a pleasant change and dearly missed. He even admits it to his long time rival, “I missed this, Jung. We should go out for a drink some time.”   “So you can incapacitate me and frame me for a crime?”   He laughs. “Aren’t you a ball of sunshine.”   “I’ll take you on that offer when I win this case.”   “Okay, deal. But looks like we won’t be going out then.”   “Fine by me.” There’s yet one more pause from the other end of the line and as Jackson listens, he hears rustling, another voice followed by the sound of soft giggling. His face blanches immediately, blood running cold.   “Jung, what are you doing? Are you with someone?”   “Don’t you wish you knew,” Hoseok replies in a snarky tone, absolutely shameless. “I’m going now, Jackson. I have other...issues to tend to.”   “You’re sick, Jung! Don’t call me to help with your foreplay! Where do you even get off?!”   Unfortunately for the prestigious lawyer, Jung Hoseok hangs up without answering and he’s not even sure the other man heard. The phone goes into a dial tone until he pushes his own button and he sighs with a slight smile before returning to work. His large law firm doesn’t run by itself after all.

Shopping has never been his forte. He didn’t think he’d be here or that this is what hanging out meant. It made him uncomfortable, store clerks standing around in the empty space to stare, running to ask if he needs help whenever he might even glance in their direction a second too long.   Another attendant is rolling over another rack of clothes and Jungkook curls in himself on the small couch, finding it all too intimidating. In the meanwhile, Taehyung is staring in the mirror, scanning himself up and down as if he’s about to makeout with himself. The yellow pajamas clinging onto his body is blinding in the store’s incandescent lights.   “What do you think, Kook?”   “Uh. It’s nice.”   Taehyung hums and continues searching through the rack, fingers playing at the hangers like they’re a piano. After deliberately choosing through them, he takes out a pair. “You should try these blue pajamas. They’re silk.”   “I’m good.”   “C’mon, Kook.” Taehyung puts it back on the rack, signaling to the attendant who nods and wheels away the rack of clothes. Apparently he’s a regular here, coming frequently enough for his signals to be understood. Jungkook muses that Taehyung is acting less like a successful lawyer and more like a son of a rich mogul who has a trust fund.   He approaches him before sitting on the couch. “I thought shopping would make you feel better.”   “Shopping isn’t really my thing,” the younger admits.   “You wanna play games then? I know an arcade around here.”   “Uh, I’m okay.” Jungkook smiles at his mentor, not wanting to get in the way. “You don’t have to worry about me.”   “Are you sure?” Taehyung tilts his head, searching Jungkook’s features carefully.   “Why? Do I not seem okay?”   “You seem fine, Kook.” He plays with his ear for a second before resting his arm on his shoulder. “I just don’t want you to be down.”   “I’m not.” The younger male blinks in a bit of confusion.   Yet, Taehyung continues to comfort him. “Well….it would be understandable if you are. You did have your heart broken.”   “What?”   The older man is careful when he speaks, treading like it’s a sensitive topic. “You liked Y/N, right?”   “I...I don’t...didn’t…” His doe eyes are rounded. “What?”   “You don’t have to lie. I noticed your cute crush on our little sweet HR manager.” Taehyung smiles, leaning on him. “It’s okay, Kook. No one really saw it coming — who knew Hoseok would snatch her up.”   “What?!” Jungkook is more shocked about this than anything else. “You know?”   Taehyung scoffs in offence. “Well, I’m not an idiot! It’s obvious they’re together, right?”   “I...uhh…”   “C’mon, let’s get up and go eat some ice-cream!” Taehyung pulls him to his feet, ready to march out the door, but then he stops himself. “But...give me a minute. I’m going to change and buy these pajamas first.”   Jungkook with a sheepish smile watches his mentor march back into the change room. To be frank, he’s always admired you more than having a romantic interest in you and wanting to pursue that interest. Still, he’s glad that there are people around him who care and pay attention to know these small details in his life that he keeps hidden. But if Jungkook was being more honest, he was intrigued. How did Taehyung know and how has he not said a single thing.   You don’t even know Taehyung knows. There’s no other plausible explanation — he must be a secret genius.

Around the table, each and every person is tired. Their eyes are stinging from staring at screens and tiny sentences forced together in large paragraphs. Their lower backs are beginning to ache from sitting all day and their fingers are cramping from incessant typing. Neither Hoseok nor Jimin are in the office, so they take the opportunity to pause from their work.   Namjoon removes his glasses, placing them on the table to stretch his limbs. He makes noises as he does so, groans and bones cracking pleasantly. Seokjin pulls out his bottom drawer, exposing bags of snacks kept hidden from Jungkook, and he swipes up a bag of chips, opening the bag to chomp on them. Seulgi also takes her break, rolling her neck in circular motions, leaning back, yawning.   “We’ve got two hours to go,” Namjoon mumbles.   Seulgi wonders if she should just bang her head on the table and put herself out of her own misery. “Ughhh…”   Seokjin hums, dusting off his fingertips and swallowing his mouthful. “What if we just snuck out.”   For a moment, they all envision it. A cloud forms over their head and they share the daydream until it pops and reality comes back to smack them in the face. Seulgi narrows her eyes at him. “Do you want to get fired or your pay to be docked?”   He shrugs. “Y/N would fight for us.”   Namjoon contributes his own opinion, “Probably let us off with a warning.”   The female legal assistant tilts her head to stare at the ceiling. She turns from side to side in her swivel chair, distracting Jungkook and Inyoung, who are seated at the other half of the office, before they realize nothing’s happening and they get back to work. “Actually…..when was the last time Hoseok yelled at us?”   Seokjin scoffs. “Obviously like...five….months...wait….”   “Yeah.” She nods, looking across to both males as realization dawns on her. “Now that I think about it, ever since Y/N came, Hoseok hasn’t been yelling at us or giving us extra work right at five.”   “Huh.”   “If anything, he’s been more lenient than ever.” Namjoon returns to his work, his fingers moving along the computer keyboard, but he’s still distracted talking. “We went out for lunch two weeks ago and he praised my performance.”   “Woah, since when did you get chummy with our crazy boss?” Seulgi is genuinely surprised, feeling a bit betrayed if anything. Usually the complaints for Hoseok were endless. She gets it if you were the one to defend him since you’re in HR and responsible for making a better work environment. But she never expected to hear it from Namjoon.   Much to the female’s revelation, Jin also has a good word for his boss. “Now that we’re talking about it, the other week I stayed back and finished some stuff and my damn car wouldn’t start so Hoseok drove me home.”   “What?”   Namjoon looks away from his monitor. “Has he not done anything for you recently?”   “Well….I guess he’s been smiling and talking to me a lot more. He also remembered when I told him my younger brother got into the college of his choice and he asked me what major he was going into.”   “I didn’t think he’s raised his once to me in these past few months or even reprimanded me for anything, even when I forgot to do those photocopies for him.” Jin puts his snacks back into his lower drawer again. “He’s been actually pretty nice these days.”   “Wow, never thought I’d see the day when someone would say that,” Seulgi muses, thinking about it for a long second.   It’s not long before the trio of them get back to their work, but in the back of their minds they dwell on the thought that their boss isn’t so bad. He’s reliable, encouraging, and maybe they didn’t know him so well in the beginning as they thought.

The sheet of the mattress pulls. The sunshine pulls through the curtain. As much as he would like to sleep and hope that after death there’s more and more sleep available for him, because that would certainly be paradise in itself, the sheer brightness of the sunlight forces him awake.   Yoongi’s eyes slowly open. His lashes bat a few times until he recognizes the familiar figure beside him. Instantly, a smile tugs on his lips, despite having always been known as the morning grump. He reaches out, brushing hair away from her face before lightly shaking her awake.   “Lee…”   “Hmm?”   “It’s mid-afternoon. We should get up.”   The girl grunts, rolling everywhere, building the momentum until she flops over to face him. She pouts with one eye open. “Don’t wanna.” Instead of sounding cute, she sounds angry.   But Yoongi ignores her anyway, picking up his phone to check the time. He goes through his messages, skimming them before setting it down and shaking her again. “C’mon, babe. We should eat or actually do something before the sun sets again.”   Sunyi sighs, lashes batting as she slowly gains the strength to open her eyes again. Then a sheepish smile spreads through her face at the thought of food. “What do you want to eat?”   “I’m fine with anything.”   “How about noodles?”   “I’ll order that right now.” He opens up an app on his phone and within three minutes, it alerts him the delivery guy is on his way. Yoongi peeks at her. “It’s a date, right?”   “All our outings are dates,” Sunyi mumbles, trying to rub the sleepiness out of her eyes.   “Really?” There’s a stupid, gummy grin plastered on his face.   “I’ve given up,” she sighs, pulling up the blankets and cuddling them, covering her exposed skin from the cool air. “You’d better treat me right before I dump your ass, Min.”   Yoongi drops his phone, letting it get lost in the abyss of fluffed covers and he hugs her body, smile infectious on his face and unable to be repressed. “We’ve been together for two years. I don’t think you’d dump my ass any time.”   “Don’t get too cocky.”   He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before muttering, “Sunny…”   “What?” Her tone is harsh, annoyed with how he keeps interrupting her when she’s trying to go back to sleep.   “You should shower. Your hair’s starting to smell.” All at once, he’s being smacked and assaulted by a pillow. Yoongi laughs, arms shielding away his face. Suddenly, she has all the energy in the world, no longer tired or sleepy, too passionate about smothering him to death as he’s giggling away. “I’m joking!”   “Are you?!” She pulls the pillow away for a second, sparing him from the onslaught.   “We’ll shower together.”   “Ugh!” Sunyi chucks the pillow and it lands on the ground. Yoongi laughs, getting up and tugging her arm until she’s forced into a seated position on the bed. He walks off to the washroom, flickering the lights on and running the water in the shower. “Come on. Before the takeout gets here.”   “Load up my toothbrush!”   “Don’t worry, I already have it ready — you need to brush your teeth too!”   Sunyi sighs for the second time, bracing herself before throwing off the covers. She grins and runs off towards the hot shower. As unbearable as Min Yoongi can be, she wouldn’t have this any other way.

It’s quiet in the elevator. Maybe it’s a part of the Monday blues. Your mind is slow to operate, brain empty as you watch the numbers go up, increasing at a snail’s pace. Jimin is holding his coffee cup, tired from the early morning as well, but he takes a glance at you and softly smiles.   “So…” He takes a sip of his drink. “Hoseok, huh.”   “What?” You turn to Jimin, shocked. “He told you?”   He has no idea what you mean, but Jimin gives a muted nod anyhow. “Course he did. I’m his partner.”   You’re wholly confused. You thought Hoseok agreed to not tell anyone. But now’s not the time to question his decision. “Don’t worry. I made sure the first thing we did was sign the contract and paperwork.”   “Oh, I’m not worried about that.” Jimin is talking out of his ass, not knowing where this was going, but he’s a master of winging it.   “Alright….okay…” It’s uncomfortable, air suffocating and you clear your throat before glancing at him, not quite sure how to address this. “Hoseok and I, we already had a talk and we want to stay professional in the office. We love our jobs and we don’t want our private matters to affect our work performance.”   “Wait.” He puts two and two together, quick-witted to a fault. “You’re with Hoseok?!”   “What?”   “You’re with him?! Dating him?!”   “Hoseok didn’t tell you?!”   “No!” Finally, everyone is on the same page and you’re mortified. You can’t believe you were duped to blow your own cover. But Jimin doesn’t mind at all — his grin is spreading into his cheeks and he’s jumping up and down, all around, hyperactive and freaking out. It’s as if he won the lottery or the team he’s been rooting for all season has won the Super Bowl. “Oh my god! Oh my god! That's so amazing!”   Jimin grabs your arms, making you hop with him and his giddy laughter is contagious. “I knew it! I so knew it!” The elevator doors open on a different floor. Three people appear, surprised and caught off guard. They step back, deciding to take the next one and you apologize, watching the doors close again. “This is so great! I always knew you and Hoseok were perfect for each other!”   You giggle with him. “Well don’t go telling everyone!”   “How long have you guys been together?”   “Like two months?”   “Two entire months?! You didn’t think of telling me?”   “We-….I didn’t think you’d be this excited.” Even Hoseok’s parents weren’t this enthusiastic about you and Hoseok. Maybe Jimin was living vicariously through you or he was genuinely just happy. Either way, you’re becoming giddy from just watching him.   “I’m ecstatic!”   You end up being summoned to Jimin’s office with Hoseok in tow. The two of you gather like suspects on trial and Jimin is on the other side of the desk, stern with his hands clasped together. The pair of you ask him to keep it private, not wanting to expose your relationship when it was still relatively new and not wanting employees to look at you differently.   He agrees, but questions why he wasn’t told. Then you’re bombarded with how it happened, when it happened, where it happened. You’re only freed when Hoseok picks you up from your seat and you both walk out the door, away from Jimin’s nosy self.   But really, if you had to retell the story of you and Hoseok, you wouldn’t even know where to begin.

[slightlyobsessedwithstories]

I Can't Believe It's Over

Summary: Steven watches his favorite series come to an end and talks to Connie about it.

Notes: Look it's fluff. That's it it's just some comfort that's still very much needed even if it has been over a week now. Also it's around 1800 words.

 Steven was fixated on the screen before him, dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. The first rays of sunlight shined through the window as one of multiple alarms rang. 

 'It's almost here! It's almost here!' he thought as he turned off almost all of the 10 alarms. It was the final episode of his favorite series, Crying Breakfast Friends! 

 Well, technically CBF! ended a few years ago and this was its epilogue series, but still, it was practically the sixth season of the show.

 He usually woke up at this time, but he's been up all night, theorizing how Spilled Milk could solve all of their problems, especially with Glum Glass (who he shipped them with.)

 He was just so excited that he stayed up all night. He kept floating anyway, so it's not like he could sleep on the ceiling. He was up all night, sharing his theories and headcanons while looking through some of the fanart that have come from the episode that was released last week.

 He still couldn't believe it was the last episode, it's been running for years. He can still remember the first episode like it was yesterday.

 One last alarm rang as he opened a streaming app that made him watch with fellow fans, whatever happens next he's sure it would be good.

 An hour and many, many tears later, Connie was calling him for their bi-weekly breakfast together. However Steven was still in bed, a river of tears streaming down his face as the credits rolled.

 He was literally crying over Spilled Milk, but that really isn't important right now.

 He wiped his tears on the sleeves of his pajamas and went downstairs to wash his face. His eyes were still a bit puffy, but maybe Connie wouldn't notice.

 Steven went back toward the bed, sinking a bit. He took a few deep breaths, and finally answered her call.

 "Good morning, Steven!" Connie greeted. She was in a diner, judging by the tables and chairs behind her. It was close to full and people were having different conversations, but it wasn't too loud that he couldn't hear her.

 "Morning, Connie," he yawned right after greeting her, hoping to mask his sadness with tiredness.

 It didn't work. Connie has started to be concerned, "Steven? Are you alright?"

 "Yeah I'm fi—"

 The universe has a cruel sense of irony, it seems. As he was only midsentence as he saw the glass of milk and the plate filled with fried eggs and crispy bacon and started to sob again.

 "I-I can't believe it's over!"

 He shuts his mouth, was that too loud? He covers his face with the pillows until he hears Connie talking. She's awkwardly explaining to the people around her; he wipes some of the tears with his sleeve while he apologizes for shouting.

 Connie goes back to her seat, visibly relieved. Whether it's because she doesn't have to talk to another stranger or because she knows what's happening with him, it's unknown to him. Maybe it's a little bit of both.

 She turns to Steven and asks one question with a knowing look in her eye, "Your favorite series just ended, didn't it?"

 "Wait... how- how did you know?" 

 "I know how that feels," she ate some of her bacon and continued, "I've read so many novels, The Spirit Morph Saga was just one of many books I've obsessed for years!"

 Steven listened to her every word as she gushes about some of her favorite books. It's been years since he heard of it, he still remembered Connie introducing him to the saga. He still loves the ending to this day, though he doesn't know if she still feels the same about the ending years later.

 "Oh, sorry I got into a tangent there."

 "It's okay, I love hearing you being so passionate."

 There was a slight blush on her cheeks; she proceeded to drink the milk to hide it. "So..Anyways, what was the name of the series that just left you in tears today?"

 Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, how exactly is he going to explain that he's been watching a cartoon for the past six years? He doesn't know what kind of shows she's watched!

 But she wouldn't judge him for that, so might as well just say it, "It's Crying Breakfast Friends."

 "I thought that show ended years ago?"

 "Well, yes, but technically no, so the original show, Crying Breakfast Friends did end a few years ago, but its epilogue series, Bawling Brunch Friends ended today."

 "So... were you satisfied with the ending?"

 She was answered with more tears, "It was so bittersweet!"

 Okay, now she needed to be there with him. "I'm going to finish up here, okay? I'll be there in a minute!"

 Connie ended the call, finished her breakfast, tipped the waitress, and ran outside to Lion all under one minute.

 A portal opened up in the beach house's living room with Connie and Lion going out from it.

 "Thanks, Lion," she said while giving his mane a few pats. He gave a cute little smile and proceeded to sleep near the sofa. 

 Of course she had to give him some pets, besides it was only a few seconds till a full minute passes and she ran up the stairs.

 She knows the feeling, sure she wasn't as sentimental when some of her favorite series ended, but she knows how empty it feels at first.

 She wonders how Steven's handling it.

 ...

 Just the sight of his bed tells it all.

 It's a bit messy and tear-stained, the impression of Steven has been there for a while making the teen that was on the bed sink even further into it. Near the pillows were some toys and old plushies of the characters in the show, Steven himself holding two of them in his arms while under his comforter.

 He was clutching the plushies of a carton of milk and a glass, keeping them close together. He hasn't noticed that she's here, but to be fair she hasn't spoken a word since she came up.

 "Hi, Steven." He freezed up for a second, but he was still silent. "Mind if I join you in there?"

 She saw his head nodding and making some space for her; she joined him under the covers.

 He was looking at some fanart of all the characters together, waving goodbye at the audience as the words, "Thank you Samantha Pepper!" appear above them.

 "So.. I remembered seeing a few episodes." Connie shifted closer to Steven, "It looked like a fun, silly cartoon from some of the episodes I've seen."

 He chuckled at that, a bit too much judging by Connie's confused reaction.

 "It was a fun, silly show at first. I rewatched the whole series preparing for this, and wow, there was a lot of stuff that went over my head."

 "Just how serious this show is after the first season, all of the foreshadowing, each character's arc and how much they've changed compared to now!"

 "I want to tell you everything, but at the same time I don't want to spoil stuff." Steven's started to float while he was talking and he hasn't noticed yet. "There's just so much that's better appreciated when it hasn't been spoiled and I haven't even talked about—"

 "Steven, the ceiling!"

 He looks up and floats in place, just inches away from hitting his head. "Thanks Connie." Steven starts to float down.

 "No problem."

 "Why didn't you stop me when I was starting to float?"

 Now it's her turn to fluster him, she gave a shy smile and said, "Sorry Steven, I was distracted with how cute you are when you're passionate."

 He was so flustered that his powers failed him at that moment and he fell on the bed, bouncing both him and Connie a few times.

 They were both giggling as they laid together on the bed. Steven teasing Connie about using the line he used earlier... until they notice the mess that was made and cleaned it up.

 "This show means a lot to you, huh?" she says as she collects the toys that fell onto the floor.

 "Yeah... I miss it," Steven helps in collecting the plushies. He grabs the Spilled Milk and Glum Glass plushies and keeps them together.

 They both help each other in fixing the comforter on the bed and laid back on it.

 Connie can hear him sniffling right next ro her. Guess he's skipped the other stages of grief and went headfirst to depression.

 "Why did it only sink in now? I'll never see these characters again!"

 Okay, that's it. She needs to tell him this. She turns Steven around, looking him in the eyes.

 "You can always rewatch the show, right?" A nod.

 "You can always make your own fanart, right?" Another nod.

 "And there's also other people's fan creations. Sure, the show's over, but people would still create more stories and art with these characters." Tears have stopped.

 "You can love and appreciate all of the content creators in that fandom and their creations, right?" A small smile. She's getting to him.

 "And even if it's over, you know that the show would always be with you, right?"

 "Connie, I thought you didn't like being saccharine?"

 "Steeeven," she was teasing him, and she knows he is too, "I'm trying to comfort you."

 "I know, just wanted to hear you say it, because you like me." They were giggling again, but when they were finished he was staring at her with a smile, "Thanks Connie."

 "You know I'll always help you, Steven," she smiled back at him.

 "Yeah, even with your college prep, you still—"

 "Wait, don't you have more stuff to do?" Steven asked, looking a bit worried. 

 "Today's Saturday, Steven." Connie reminded him.

 "Oh... yeah," he rubbed his eyes, "thought it was still Friday."

 "You stayed up all night, didn't you?"

 "Can't blame me for being excited, besides I'm not that tired."

 A yawn escapes him at the end and he settles at the bed.

 "Ok maybe I'm a little bit tired. Talk to you later?"

 "You know the usual time," she gives him a kiss on the forehead, "see you later, Steven." 

 "I'll see you soon, Connie."

 And she goes down to Lion, who just woke up.

 As Steven hears the roar of Lion's portal go out, he opens his phone and looks back on the picture of everyone in the show again.

 Connie's right, it's a part of him now. Every memory, every laugh, and especially every tear that's shed—of sorrow and of joy.

 "Thanks for giving me tears to the very end."

[phantomphangphucker]

A Three String Heart-Shaped Harp - Story 1: My Heart’s In A Pocket Watch

Collection Summary:  Danny’s a boy with a half-beating heart, and he’s got ghosts haunting it.

Story Summary: Snow White and his ruby red wine

Danny’s staring at a couple of specks of blood on his shoes as he goes to open the door. ‘Nice going Fenton, this pair was already red enough’, jerking out of his thoughts as an all too familiar hand ruffles up his hair. 

Snapping his head up with a jerk, “Clo-!”, cutting himself off with a, definitely not subtle, cough, “uh, Horace, uh, what’s up”. Batting away the playful hand, “is my hair a dog to you?!”. Horace simply grins softly and gives three tiny nods; before stepping around Danny, to enter the living room. 

Danny huffs at them indignantly before going wide-eyed and gaping, realising that not only are his parents at home but that this lovable little shit knew that. Speaking sarcastically, “of course your timing is absolutely perfect, like always”. Groaning as Jazz, sticking her head over the hallway railing, snaps at him, “I would think you, of all people, wouldn’t be rude. Especially as it’s clear you know this unexpected guest”. 

Horace chuckles as they speak up for the first time, while Danny blushes furiously, “oh but of course, we’ve ghosted over enough time to have a level of intimacy”. 

Jazz squints at the blonde but doesn’t get to dwell on it as Maddie sticks her head out of the kitchen, “oh! Hello? Danny, who’s this?”. Eyeing her son curiously as she goes to shake the visitor's hand, “I don’t believe we’ve met before”. 

Danny groans again, mentally grumbling ‘well I guess like everything else in my life, I’m doing this without a damn plan. Greeeeaaaat’. Rubbing his neck and looking anywhere but his mom, “uh, mom, this is Horace. They’re, uh, my other”, rolling his hand exaggeratedly, “partner, lover, romantic interest, cuddle buddy...whatever you wanna call it”. Maddie raises an eyebrow and gives Horace a visual once over, placing her hands on her hips to make it clear she’s going to play protective mother hen. Horace, maintaining their soft smile, sticks their hand out and ruffles Danny’s hair further in response; utterly unfazed. Even maintaining their composure when Jack, summoned by the universal fatherly duty to know all of his children’s love interests, practically speed walks to be directly in front of the pair. Danny only blushes furiously after glancing at his parents, even if he’s mentally cheering, ‘well, there’s no Fenton Creep Stick in sight’. 

Horace chuckles at the large man’s antics, before flicking their, nearly closed, eyes to Danny, “oh I think mate is far more suiting, Daniel”, Horace speaks softly with a faint smile, “much more... timeless”. 

Maddie smirks slightly and pushes Jack back a bit, nodding at Horace faintly, “well, you seem well spoken”. Jack sighs and nods, “nothing like that Johnny rascal”, glancing at Jazz as she groans before continuing, “who will NOT be dating any Fenton”. 

Neither Danny nor Horace even bother to stifle their light chuckling, while Jazz looks to be heading towards the kitchen. Stopping short to spin back towards the pair, pointing her finger in a show of aggressive protectiveness, “you best treat my little brother like a dream come true. He may not look it, but he’s the best soul there is”. 

“Jaaaaaaazzz”, Danny tilts his head back, utterly embarrassed. While Horace nods their head at her, “if anyone recognises timeless purity and knows a star when they see one, it’s me, Jasmine”. 

Jazz clearly finds that statement weird but is overshadowed by Jack straight up beaming, “oh! Stars! You know Danny-boy loves those twinkling things! Always wanted to be a little astronaut!”. 

Danny is currently endlessly thankful for Horace’s insanely high level of patience. Watching them side-eyed, as they close their eyes; seemingly smiling with their eyes as well as their mouth. Though it’s a soft, subtle smile; easily missable if you don’t know it, and Danny knew it well. ‘How is their smile always so freaking cute. It feels like a blanket made of fuzzy glowing stars...and damnit, mom totally noticed me stargazing’, pulling out of his thoughts and pulling his eyes away, catching both Horace’s slight smirk and Maddie’s knowing smile. 

Jack, ever unobservant, yammers on about food, “Mads here made fudge Fiddle Diddles!...oh and spaghetti, but mostly fudge!”, tapping his chin, “or I guess things with fudge”. Shrugging before pointing over his shoulder into the kitchen. Maddie rolls her eyes and nods, watching him scurry off with a fond sigh. 

Turning back to the pair, “there really is spaghetti, and you certainly must stay”. Giving Danny a pointed look before looking at Horace sternly, “I won’t have my baby boy dating someone I know nothing of”. Horace chuckles lightly, “but of course, I wouldn’t want to be an  unknowable ghost; in that sense”, speaking quietly enough so only Danny could really hear them, “that’s precisely the reason I’m here, some secrets aren’t meant to be kept; and others just shouldn’t be”, while Danny just wonders how the heck they manage to talk without moving their lips ‘they’d make one hell of a ventriloquist’. But he does still look rather sheepish at their words, he’s probably a little too used to keeping secrets; especially keeping important things a secret. And this, this was definitely one of those important things. 

Maddie nods curtly, while she feels this Horace person is genuine and, so far, decent enough; she still watches to make sure both of them follow her into the kitchen. Though she can’t help but be curious as to what kind of hair care routine Horace has, to achieve such an almost ridiculously fluffy hairstyle. 

Danny catches Horace’s glance and knowing smirk, flicking his eyes over to the new device his dad’s working on. Groaning, ‘oh great, now what’s that going to do? Something tells me that’s the real reason they’re here, here today specifically’. Muttering at Horace as they sit down, Horace beside him, his dad on one end with Jazz on the other, his mom directly across from the pair. “You're a little shit, you know that?”, Horace doesn’t even glance at him, while Danny mutters into his hand before grabbing his fork, “an infuriatingly cute one”. 

Danny’s honestly impressed his dad actually stops fiddling to eat, though there’s something with fudge in it for desert; so it isn’t that surprising. Looking Horace over, having not really gotten the chance after his earlier mild panic and blatant embarrassment. Noting the plain brown cargo pants, purple pinstriped dress shirt, and black crushed velvet vest; accented by a bronze steampunk watch necklace.  “I’ve never seen you in something so, dare I say, basic?”, Jazz gives Danny an incredulous glare, but redirects that look to Horace as they speak. Sounding almost smug, “well, I will have you know, I am capable of some level of modesty”, at Danny’s snort they concede, “occasionally”, Danny only snorts louder, ‘modest hardly exists in their wardrobe and they know it'. Horace, sighing fondly, “rarely”. Danny chuckles with a smirk, “that’s more like it”. 

Jazz puts her fork down at this, raising her eyebrow questioningly at Horace, “you know, most people dress up, not down, for first impressions. And this-”, gesturing at Horace’s outfit, “-hardly qualifies as dressing down”. Maddie nods in agreement, while Jack simply shrugs, “so long as he’s-”

“They’re”, Horace doesn’t miss a beat in interrupting him, making Jazz giggle. While Jack just keeps talking, “wearing clothing I’m good. Hey! Maybe he-” 

“They”, Horace interrupts again. While Danny’s once again thanking how patient Horace is, Jazz and Maddie both wince a little; futilely hoping Jack gets the message. The fact that he doesn’t even seem to notice either correction as he keeps speaking doesn’t give them hope though, “-usually wears suits! Like Vladdie!”. 

Danny can’t help but smirk, catching Jazz’s shock over Horace chuckling; clearly not offended in the slightest, “never worn one, of all the things I’ve done; wearing a suit is not one of them”, smilingly fondly, “I prefer robes and cloaks, maybe dabble in the occasional frock coat or corset”. 

Danny points at them with a shit-eating grin, “but never capes”. Danny knows Horace’s shudder was fully intentional and done to amuse him. ‘At least my parents won’t be fazed by odd fashion, considering their daily “fashion” choices’

Jazz can’t help but chuckle, Danny clearly hearing her mutter, “I really shouldn’t be surprised Danny’s tastes have aimed for someone with some, unusual, qualities”. Danny coughs and glares at her, Jazz sighs, “strange as they may be, I’d say they’re good for you”. 

Danny only gets a second to blush as he stutters, “uh, t-thanks?”. While Jack grins wide, practically talking over Danny, “odd’s the way of every Fenton! Shows character!”, looking over Horace as they flawlessly twirl their fork full of noddles and glides it into their mouth without losing so much as a drop of sauce, “good character”. 

Maddie smiles at Jack and gives Danny a small nod, Danny’s flat out elated ‘holy shit, they’re usually really off-putting or confusing to other people. But I guess they haven’t exactly gone off on any tangents...yet’. 

Horace nods their head towards Jazz, “my idea of dressing up is often others idea of overwhelming or startling. That’s hardly my intent here, quite the opposite actually”, even Maddie can pick up on the mischievous twinkle in Horace’s eyes, “I’m sure they’ll be quite enough of that, in time”. 

‘Oh great, what game is that cheeky bastard playing?’, pushing them playfully, “mysterious as ever, Pocket Watch”. Horace leans over, whispering into Danny’s ear; resulting in two snickering girls and a widely grinning Jack. “Pet names already, little MoonFlower? As I always say, you should worry less; even if to protect is to worry. Though my protection only has eyes for my Raven Boy”, Danny rolls his eyes, failing to hide a blush. Muttering, “you watch over so much more”.

“Hmmm, protective protection and watchful protecting are not necessarily in the same vein”, Horace ruffles Danny’s hair before returning to their food. 

With a cough, Jazz returns the other onlookers attention to their own food; even Jack has the awareness to feel slightly invasive. Though he takes it as a good sign, that this Horace can make his son blush so easily; clearly he, they, knows Danny’s really well. 

 “Anyways...”, Jazz breaks the unusual silence, unusual only because the Fenton household was rarely quiet. Though she has a suspicion Horace is quite comfortable with silence, but with how rarely Danny shuts up (when he was comfortable anyways), she wonders how that works out. Picking back up and leaning towards Horace, “so you know us Fenton’s are a crazy bunch, right? Not much startles us”. Maddie smiles softly, looking at Jack, “that’s true, Jack dear, you might not even notice if they came in wearing a clown suit”. Jack shrugs, accepting the lighthearted teasing. 

Horace and Danny glance at each other, both sharing feelings of mischief and trickery. Danny mentally laughing, ‘they still can’t find the ghost under the same roof’.

 Horace places both theirs and Danny’s plates in the sink, talking with their back to everyone, “yes, well, you may find I am one of few who only grows stranger with time”. Smiling slightly as they turn back around, with eyes clearly only for Danny, “and one of even fewer who understands that strange and broken are not one and the same”. Jazz is certain Horace is laughing more to themselves than anyone else, as they walk back around, head tilted back and still speaking, “ocean eyes always seem to find themselves on the faces of the impossible and the odd, don’t they?”. With that she watches them sit down and blinks, realising Horace’s eyes are literally the same colour as Danny’s. Muttering to herself that Horace really does get more unusual, the more she notices about them. Maddie’s found herself thinking the same, while Jack is just wondering why Danny seemed almost sad for a second. 

 Danny knows Horace means everything they say, pretty well always, especially towards him. But, ‘a freak is still a freak’, is a thought still nestled in the back of his head most days, however, ‘just the good kind...maybe’, is the thought often following it nowadays. 

Horace nods curtly at the family as they sit back down, “besides even broken is beautiful, glance at any glass mosaic and try to argue otherwise”. Leaning their back against Danny’s shoulder, folding their hands on their chest, while Danny unconsciously leans his head into Horace’s shoulder; blatantly unused to having onlookers, and it’s far too late by the time he has the awareness to feel embarrassed. 

Maddie covers up her snicker with a gloved hand before speaking, “those indeed are pretty, you’re quite the unbashful type; aren’t you? Well, maybe you can get Danny out of his shell some”, pushing Danny’s shoulder playfully, which he rolls his eyes at, before continuing, “Zone knows you could use it, you really are quite shy sweetie”. 

Danny has to suppress a chuckle at that ‘one of the last things people would describe me, well Phantom but still, as is shy. I’m secretive, not shy, that would actually be horrible if I really was shy...or anti-social, damn that would suck’. 

Horace closes their eyes softly as Jack gets back to fiddling with whatever, as Maddie’s putting away hers and his dishes. Horace, sighing, “I would say “shy” would be rather...incorrect. There are simply different ways one can be open to the world”. Maddie’s a bit startled as Horace looks at her with eyes that seem far too old and shadowed by something close to regret or pity, “if you are looking for someone to bring him into being an open book, I’m the last one you should be asking that of. Even the most far-reaching all-seeing eye could never read all my pages”, closing their eyes again, “only one has taken the time to try”. 

Jazz finds that incredibly sad, even Jack frowns a bit, but it’s clear Danny’s used to Horace’s occasional lonesomeness.

 As Danny pokes at Horace lightly, “those eyeballs can stuff it, Time Pants”. 

“Hmpf, that one was weak, Moon Child”, everyone but Jazz chuckles as Danny mutters, “do I need to start calling you Ruby Fine Wine again”. Earning a smirk from Horace, only loud enough for Danny to hear, “sure thing, Snow White”. Danny snaps his head over, pulling himself over and in front of Horace; gaping all the while, conveying as much fake offence as he can. Horace snorts as they rest their arm on the chair backing for support, previously given by Danny’s back, “Snow Bunny”. Danny scrunches up his face, “Fun Sized”. 

“Oh how that could change, Frosty”, the other three occupants aren’t sure if they should leave or not, since the two are clearly off in their own world. Jazz is flat out tempted to smack Danny as he smirks, “and let me guess, Batman, I gotta find the bat cave for the answer to that skill”. 

Maddie officially thinks Horace has zero sense of shame, as even Jack coughs and blushes awkwardly from their response, “only after the timely return of my probe into your ice fortress, Iceman”. Jazz blinks and coughs, while Danny blushes furiously and rights himself back into his seat. 

Danny looks around awkwardly, not about to meet anyone’s eyes, nearly inaudibly muttering, “...Puppet”. Horace nods with a frown, muttering in return, “Soldier”. 

 After some nearly crushingly unpleasant silence, their eyes meet again; and with a shit-eating grin, “Time Daddy”. Resulting in both girls choking slightly, while Jack’s too focused on finishing touches. Horace shrugs exaggeratedly, matching Danny’s grin, “well, time’s my bitch after all”. Jazz facepalms at this while Maddie gapes, “language!”, pointing at Danny, “and you! You knew they’d respond with that”. 

Danny jerks, having actually forgotten about their audience. Rubbing his neck as he responds, “heh, guilty as charged”. Horace leans back into their chair, “yup, caught you dead handed”. Danny can’t help but snort while Jazz groans, muttering, “oh god, they’re too similar”. 

Pointing at his sister and leaning towards her, “jokes, the universal road map out of any dead end”. Horace joins Danny in leaning towards Jazz, “and in a perfectly timely fashion, might I add. Any slower and it’d be Davey Jones’ locker for the pair of us”. 

Jazz groans exaggeratedly and mockingly covers up her ears, before placing her head on the table, but Danny’s more caught up in how Horace is blatantly eyeballing his dad’s invention; clearly annoyed. Not getting to dwell on all the “why”s, as the machine starts beeping...and then talking. 

“WARNING, GHOST DETECTED. ONE FOOT. WARNING, APOCALYPTIC ECTOPLASMIC THREAT WITHIN ONE HUNDRED FEET. IDENTITY UNKNOWN. POWERS UNKNOWN. POWER LEVEL TWENTY-EIGHT”. 

Danny pales at every word, mentally freaking out a bit, ‘oh, oh no. I mean, I guess, it’s-it’s not like either of them could actually hurt, injure or trap them. But-but they better not shoot. I- what would I even do?’, blinking and scooting closer to Horace protectively, ‘protect, always. Always protect. But, but I don’t want to have to! I shouldn’t have to!’. Feeling Horace sigh, ‘they knew this would happen...but then why?’. Danny easily hears Jazz suck in a breath, while Horace mutters into Danny’s ear, “I am not a secret for keeping, calm your snow storm mind, MoonFlower”. Jazz mutters into the table, “stuff detecting Danny, again?”. 

Maddie stands, glancing at the device before glaring at Horace and responding, with a strained voice, “no, Jazz. Danny’s excluded from our stuff now”. Shaking her head, but eyes staying locked with Horace’s blue ones, officially very suspicious of where they got the jagged scar over their eye. “No, it’s detecting them”. 

Jack doesn’t know what to do, surely his son would have known if his partner, or whatever, was overshadowed and he-they-clearly didn’t appear ghostly. 

 Horace sighs, their eyes leaving Maddie to glance at Danny’s. Conflict clear as day in them, but eventually he straightens up; Horace watching him softly as he does. Both of them understanding that this is going to be rather...unpleasant, for everyone. 

Danny officially gets why his other showed up so early, good impressions. Warm his parents up to them, both Horace on their own and the idea of the two of them as a pair. For once Danny’s awful sense self-awareness was actually helpful, otherwise, he’d have never loosened up over dinner; at all. 

Smilingly fondly at Horace, eliciting another sigh from them; but this time it’s laced with contentment and, of all things, pride. 

Horace turns their head back to the two Fenton parents, both of them are now flicking between glaring at Horace accusingly and at Danny, who’s practically pressed into Horace, worriedly. “Indeed, I did tell you as much”, rolling their hand in the air, “albeit, rather covertly”. 

 Jazz blinks at this and lifts up her head, squinting at them before groaning, “you literally said you were an unknown ghost”. Looking almost exhaustedly at Danny, speaking near silently, “how did you find someone as punny as you but somehow more reckless”. 

While Jack knocks his chair over as he stands, Maddie tightening her grip on the ectogun strapped to her belt. Flicking her eyes over to Danny, “Daniel, explain”. 

Horace smirks slightly, leaning back, “well, for hunters, this is a pretty preferable outcome. Not pleasant per se, expected though. But of course, you’ll ignore my words as you believe what you know to be something of a universal truth; when such things do not exist”. Ruffling Danny’s hair, which Danny gapes at him for ‘because how does this situation call for that? If they were anyone else they’d have to have a reckless deathwish’. Horace, continuing to speak as they fiddle with bits of Danny’s hair, “but, just like this celestial one, you have to learn everything the hard way”, closing their eyes with a soft smile, “but of course, my Raven Boy is all the better for it”. 

This finally gets one of the Fenton parents to respond to them, with Maddie practically growling, “he's not “your” anything, ghost”. Stepping closer to the table, ectogun actually drawn now, “how do you even look human? How dare you go after our son”. 

Jazz reaches over the table, placing her hands on the ectogun, “mom, at least let Danny actually explain”. While Danny sighs, “because they want to and, um, I’m more of the, uh, chaser”. Maddie blinks, caught a bit off guard by Danny’s comment before glaring at her daughter, but softens under her pleading face. Jack mutters, “but he’s probably being mind controlled or something”. Earning eyerolls from the couple, “dad, that’s not really something they can do”. Easily catching Jack muttering, “that’s what they want you to think, what they make you think”. 

 Groaning slightly, Danny rubs his neck; he’d look around, avoid their eyes, if it wasn’t for the justified concern they’d assault his other. ‘Well isn’t this just damn peachy. I guess here’s hoping I don’t want to toss myself fully into the Zone after this’. 

Electing to throw his arm around Horace and smush their face into his, effectively making their human face look even less threatening; though Danny just wanted them closer for their protection, regardless of how unneeded that protection was. “I know they’re a ghost, I don’t care. I always knew, I never cared. Ghost aren’t evil, unfeeling things. They aren’t impressions of post-human consciousness, especially the ones that were never human, or alive, to begin with”, even Jazz is a little thrown by the last bit. Raising an eyebrow at Horace, earning a soft smile and nod in return, effectively answering that they indeed where a born, or in their case more correctly called a created, ghost. 

Jack mutters incredulously at Horace, “born a ghost? But ghosts? Nothing but ectoplasm and leftover human thoughts, so how could? How is that?”, Jack cuts himself off with a head shake. It’s clear he was talking to himself but Horace answers anyways, “born ghosts yes, created ghosts as well. We near never leave our Ghost Realm homes, no reason”. Smirking slightly, “my reason is currently treating my face like it’s made of play dough”. 

“Pfft, not sorry”, ‘besides, it sort of is. In a way. So’s mine, technically’, Danny does loosen his grip a bit though, before continuing, “besides that shouldn’t matter, what they are shouldn’t mat-”. Maddie cuts in, “ghost. A ghost. Ghosts are made of ectoplasm, sweetie. How it-”. This time Horace isn’t the only one doing the correcting, joined by both Danny and Jazz, “they”; Horace, patient and softly spoken as ever, Jazz sounding exhausted, and Danny practically growling. ‘They are not an it! Ghosts are not an it!’. Both Danny and Jazz are a bit surprised Maddie actually looks a bit apologetic, still continuing with what she was going to say though, “-came to exist. Still a ghost. Daniel, how could you? Could you be close with one like this? Even friends, haven’t we taught you how dangerous ghosts are?”. 

Danny can’t help but glare, “anything with power is dangerous and loving anyone is dangerous, powers or not. Doesn’t matter”. Danny shuffles a bit, “it doesn’t matter what they’re made of. What we’ve got, odd as it is, is real; is good. They’re good, especially to me”, locking his eyes with his mom determinedly, “that’s what should matter. That they’re good to me”. 

Horace nods, seeming as if this should be obvious, and frankly, it should be. Watching their mates raven black hair, highly tempted to ruffle it again, borderline purring, “and you do nothing but grace me with ocean blues and star fire”. 

Jack can’t help but flop back into his chair at the sight of Danny’s flustered blushing, not sparing a thought as to how the chair is somehow back upright. And Maddie, looking around the table and catching Jazz’s soft but encouraging smile, stiffly lowers herself back into her own seat; though still glaring daggers at the ghost, at Horace. 

 No one does or says anything for a bit, until a squinting Jazz blurts out, “Horace?”.

“Hmmm?”.

“How old are you?”. Now Danny’s face is beet red again, and he groans, knowing full well the spiel Horace is about to go into, “that hardly applies to me, Jasmine. I’m a timeless being, ageless. But I’m certain that age isn’t really what you’re asking, but rather how long, in earthly years, I have been in existence”, at Jazz’s nod they continue, “that question hardly applies to me either, as the answer simply doesn’t exist. You could ask the first human to ever exist and they’d say they saw me yesterday. Ask the first Raptor to ever lay an egg and she’d say we had delightful tea and cakes tomorrow”. 

Horace’s slight smile doesn’t falter as Maddie interrupts them, “enough with the riddles, ghost”. Sighing almost pitifully at her, “now was the best time for them, I would know”. Tilting their head to Jazz, “the simplest answer there is, is always. I have always been here, I am as “old” as existence is. As the earth, as the Ghost Realm. But I am also younger than everything”. 

Jack mutters, “pretty sure that’s still a riddle...and makes no sense”. 

 Danny can’t help but chuckle, even if it’s a bit strained. Leaning into Horace and whispering to them, “it cool if I just tell them who you really are? You’re pretty well incapable of not being confusing here”. Horace’s eyes twinkle mischievously, speaking near silently, “I’d say the time has certainly come. This falls into the space of shouldn’t be hidden, rather than can’t be. So it is truly your choice to make Daniel, but then again, so is everything”. 

“Hmpf”, Danny rolls his eyes before turning back to his family, ‘well they were exactly as helpful as expected, meaning not at all’. Clasping his hands together on the table before unclasping them to gesture at Horace, reclasping them together again as he talks, “Horace...is not their real name...just their chosen human one. To go with the human form”. Horace nods, amusement barely hidden on their face, “Horace is the English derivative of Horatius, it’s a Latin name”. 

While “Horace” has a blatantly shit-eating grin plastered on their face, Danny shuffles and clears his throat a bit, before talking again, “it means “hour in time” or-”, chuckling faintly, “-time keeper””. Gesturing again at “Horace”, while Jazz goes slack-jawed; knowing full well who this is now. Danny ignores her gaping, “their real name, is ClockWork. The Time Master, Guardian of the Time Stream, Protector Of the Timeline; there’s a lot of ways to say it”. Shrugging and rubbing his neck, “basically it’s their job to make sure time itself doesn’t get destroyed. Because of that time doesn’t really apply to them”. 

ClockWork nods, “I am simultaneously young, middle-aged, old, and ageless. And I see all of time, every action anyone or thing has, is, or will, ever take. I knew this conversation well before any of you were born. Before the human race even existed”. 

 Uncomfortable silence settles again as the Fenton parents attempt to process that, the silence was broken by Jack muttering, eyes on his invention, “no wonder you’re a warning class. That kind of power...”. 

Jazz nods awkwardly, looking to lift the mood some, “while that is startling, mom, dad, that means they could have willing avoid this...but didn’t”. Flicking her eyes to Danny, “I’m pretty sure Danny didn’t know they were coming over today, so they clearly wanted you to know about them; know about this relationship”, squinting at the invention before continuing, practically whispering, “without hiding what they are...”. 

ClockWork smiles softly, nodding approvingly at her, “intelligent and observant as ever, Jasmine. But fret not, I alone, did not make this choice”. Nuzzling their nose into Danny’s cheek, which he leans into, “Daniel could have simply had me leave, there was time enough for that”, smirking, “but of course, I knew he wouldn’t”. 

Maddie watches the two, finding it a bit hard to glare with the pale soft looking blondes face, who hasn’t even seemed slightly threatening or even unpleasant the entire night, nestled into Danny’s neck. While Danny is clearly leaning into the affectionate display, only a slight blush showing his awareness of the presence of the rest of his family. 

Maddie fiddles with the ectogun in her lap, while she stares at the table. Flicking her eyes up at Danny, who’s now watching her cautiously, “they...this ghost...they have so much power. How? How does that not bother you? They could probably destroy you, this whole city, before you could blink”, shaking her head, “that kind of power, no one or thing should have that”. 

ClockWork chuckles, “oh but I was created for it. Without me, well, time would be quite...unstable”, frowning slightly, “me not existing would be far more destructive than any of my powers”. 

 Danny can’t help but snicker slightly, ‘that’s right, they don’t really have any actually offensive powers’, patting ClockWork’s fluffy hair, “ClockWork doesn’t really have the powers other ghosts do. They’re powers start and end with time stuff”, snorting and muttering to himself, “add in those stupid eyeballs”. Clearing his throat, “plus they’re bound, they can’t harm or destroy anyone or thing except to protect time or the future”, shrugging, “you know, world ending kind of stuff”. Muttering to himself, “it’s shocking ClockWork’s even able to date”. 

ClockWork snorts into Danny’s neck, while Maddie shakes her head, “still, a ghost’s a ghost. They shouldn’t be here”, gesturing at the couple, “this shouldn’t be happening. A human...and a ghost”, shaking her head, and locking her eyes with Danny’s, “we’re Fenton’s, hunters...”. 

Jack nods awkwardly, “son, Danny-boy, how can this be ok?”. Danny’s groans and tilts his head back, rubbing his face before looking to his dad, “it’s not really for you to decide if it’s ok. I’ve already decided it is, so it is”, shrugging, “you just have to, um, accept it and, um, not hate it... not hate them”. 

 Danny, glancing down in the direction he knows his mom’s ectogun is resting, “and ClockWork, they’re immortal. You can’t destroy them, mom, no matter what you tried. You’d have better luck blowing up the whole planet”. 

Maddie tosses the gun onto the table and puts her head in her hands, while ClockWork nods, seeming almost sad, “yes, I’m will always be here. Even when nothing else is”. Danny nods lightly, muttering, “time doesn’t go away just because no one’s there to count the seconds”. 

“And I am time given conscious form”, though ClockWork’s words were borderline silent, everyone clearly hears them.

 Again, silence, until Jazz breaks it again, looking down at the table, “that’s...actually kind of...awful”. Danny smiles somewhat sadly at Jazz, as she flicks her eyes up at him. He nods slightly, “that’s why they’re so um, unbashful? No reason not to be and they don’t really get to do things purely for themselves...much anyway”. 

Maddie and Jack glance at each other, Jack smiling a bit forced, “love is kind of selfish, isn’t it...”. Shaking his head, “love... and ghosts, who would have thought”. 

This gets Maddie to blink and really study ClockWork, who’s full body leaning on Danny with their eyes closed; content and...in love. Something she never thought a ghost even capable of understanding. 

Danny nods, seeming rather embarrassed, “it’s not really that, um, uncommon”, rubbing at his neck, “ClockWork’s not really the, um, first ghost I’ve dated. Though me and Kitty didn’t exactly last long”. 

ClockWork snorts, “she’s hardly your type. Needy in all the wrong ways”. Danny nods, “oh yeah, big time”, shrugging, “besides, she and Johnny really are meant for each other”. Jazz groans, muttering at him, “did you have to bring him up?”. Making the couple snicker at her. 

Maddie nods, feeling a bit of guilt and shame, “and you, you didn’t tell us. Because you were worried, afraid, of how we’d react”. Danny nods stiffly, but ClockWork’s the one to speak, “and rightfully so. Things are different with me, I know all the ways you could react and the likelihood of each”, lifting up their head and pushing their forehead into the side of Danny’s head, “and this Space Boy knows that, so he really should stop worrying”. Danny rolls his eyes though blushing faintly. 

 Jack nods strongly, looking at the two before pushing a plate of fudge Fiddle Diddles at them. Danny can’t help but smile, ‘dad’s...sharing his fudge...I just, wow. Okay, this actually worked out...somehow’. 

Maddie sighs as she watches Danny and ClockWork take turns biting into one Fiddle Diddle. “So ghosts eat now”, looking down at the table, “I guess...I guess there’s a lot we don’t actually know”. 

ClockWork nods, “and I know everything, you are better for not having all the information. To learn is to grow, those that can not learn can never grow nor change”. Danny grunts, “oh you learn plenty, just weirdly”, rolling his eyes, “stupid fluffy purple batman”. 

ClockWork leans closer to Danny’s ear, “I think you’ll find, I’m more fine silks and satins than fluff”, resulting in Danny covering up his blushing with his hands, as ClockWork leans back init their chair with a faint smirk. 

 This time the silence is more comfortable as the plate gets passed around, everyone eating more or less comfortably. Though both Jack and Maddie still glance cautiously at the, uncomfortably human-looking, ghost. 

Jack can’t contain his curiosity anymore, “you, ClockWork or Horace?”, shrugging, “the human look, Danny-boy said you were doing it willingly”. Maddie blinks a bit, but leans over the table a slightly, staring at ClockWork, “what do you actually look like?”. Jazz blinks, unable to help being curious herself, having never actually seen what the enigmatic time ghost truly looked like. 

 ClockWork cracks open one eye, “it’s Horace for those that do not know what, or who, I truly am. Same goes for the human form, I’ve been simply maintaining it to allow you time to adjust to me and the knowledge of me. Particularly, knowledge of me with your Raven Dove son”. 

Jazz nods, thoroughly impressed with ClockWork’s level of forethought and sympathy. Surely they could have simply made this very jarring, instead, they’ve been easing into every aspect with practiced grace. Smiling at them, “well, I think we could all do with you being fully honest now”, chuckling, “besides, dad’s curiosity is ravenous. He’ll never stop pestering you”. 

Even Danny can tell Jack has gone from cautious and confused, to uneasy acceptance, to giddy curiosity. Nudging ClockWork and smiling, eliciting another proud smile from the time ghost, “if you’re comfortable with it, Daniel, then I see no reason not to”, chuckling, “human forms are hardly comfortable to maintain”. 

 “So you’ve been intentionally making yourself uncomfortable just so your boyfriends' parents would at least not hate you?”, Jazz groans as ClockWork starts nodding, looking at Danny and playfully muttering, “you’re dating yourself...punny, secretive, powerful, enigmatic, mysterious, self-sacrificial...”. Danny snorts and rolls his eyes, while Jazz squints at ClockWork, “your human form, looks nothing like you actually do...does it?”, groaning as ClockWork actually laughs, “looks a lot like Danny though”. 

 Danny blushes as ClockWork shrugs, “what can I say, I like what I see. Who wouldn’t want to look like the living embodiment of sunlight and star fire”. ClockWork ruffles Danny’s hair as they drop the human disguise, fading away with dramatic sparks and sparkling, Danny can’t help but smirk, “drama queen”. Though rather impressed that ClockWork stays sitting in the chair, ‘sitting down with a ghostly tail isn’t exactly the easiest thing, but it’s not like they weren’t expecting to be sitting’.

 All three regular humans gape, slack-jawed; at the blue-skinned, purple cloaked, and red-eyed ghost. Danny can’t help but snort as ClockWork shifts into their child form. “As I’ve said, I am every age and no age. My natural form constantly and unconsciously changes to reflect this fact”. Danny can’t help but snicker, “makes cuddling a trip, when your other is constantly changing height and size”. 

“So you...can’t control it”, Jazz isn’t sure what else to say right now, they’re literally a toddler right now. ClockWork shrugs before shifting into a teenage form, “I’m hardly aware of the changing, though I can slow it down or speed it up. All things normalised with time”. 

Maddie blinks and leans back, pulled out of her stupor by the pun, looking the teenage ghost over, “does this, age changing, affect your...behaviour? And how does your chest even work?”. ClockWork smirks, flicking open the clock case door-window on their chest, “it does not. My clock reflects the state of time around me. The pendulum swinging to the speed of time, or not at all if time is stopped”, flicking at the neck of the pendulum as it swings back and forth lazily, “the clock face itself is my core”. Closing the clock case window, while Danny sticks his hand under, the now adult, ClockWork’s hood; toying with the hidden blonde locks. Prompting ClockWork to ruffle Danny’s, before smushing Danny’s head into their chest; cloak draping over Danny’s shoulder in the process. 

Jazz can’t help but giggle, muttering into her hand, “okay, that’s adorable”. 

 Danny blushes and huffs at her, while Maddie sighs, “I can’t say I like this, but I guess I can...accept it”, looking into ClockWork’s eyes, and getting startled by them becoming wrinkled and old. Shaking her head, “that’s incredibly disorienting”, sitting back up, “but know this, ghost, if you harm him. Then I don’t care how immortal you are, I will hunt you and I will destroy you”. 

Danny groans loudly, “could we not with the death threats?”. ClockWork pats his head, “nonsense, I would desire nothing different. The feeling is quite mutual after all”, smiling down at Danny, “only difference is, I understand intentionally seeking revenge on your behalf wouldn’t exactly please you”, shrugging, “but if say, someone’s future suddenly started taking all the wrong twists and turns...then who’s to say if it was really my meddling that caused them to get exiled to the void of space”. 

Danny squints up at ClockWork, “that is suspiciously specific...”, trailing off as ClockWork shifts to a toddler again, “...Fun Sized”. 

Jack, on the other hand, is flat-out impressed and likes that this ghost is clearly protective without being flat-out obsessive. Nodding strongly, “I don’t approve of this, but you’re clearly not looking to harm. So...I guess it’s fine”, looking down at Danny, who’s clearly beaming, “still beyond weird and not really okay, especially for a Fenton”. 

Jazz nods, “well look at it this way, Danny isn’t as uninterested in ghost stuff as you thought?”. Maddie glances at her, slightly unimpressed. While Danny snorts, pulling teenage ClockWork’s cloak around himself a bit more, “my interest is friendly and affectionate, not really the same Jazz”. Maddie frowns at Danny, but nods with a sigh, “and I’m guessing you’re pretty set on your feelings and-”, gesturing at ClockWork, “-on this, on them”. 

Danny nods almost aggressively, “yes, mom, ClockWork is my other, my mate”. Jack takes in Danny firm face and intense gaze, before nodding at him, “well that settles it then”. Turning to ClockWork and awkwardly holding out his hand for a handshake, “I guess, welcome to the Fenton family, ClockWork”. 

 Maddie stares at her husband a bit as he shakes hands with a ghost, glaring at ClockWork, “I wouldn’t say you’re part of the family, ghost, but if Danny is as certain as he clearly is, then our home, our family, will allow you in”, muttering to herself, though easily heard by the two ghostly mates, “pretty sure you’d get in any way though”. 

Judging by the mischievous twinklings in the pairs eyes and the smirks, Maddie knows she’s right. She’s pretty well certain this ghost, ClockWork, has been over multiple times. 

 Jazz, blinking a bit and staring at ClockWork’s hand and wrist, lazily resting on the backing of their chair, “what’s with all the watches? You’re practically covered in clock imagery”. Instantly regretting her question and showing it with a groan, as the pair smirk. 

“I’m the time master, everything is time with me. I also have a pocket watch wrapped around my belt. My cloak clasp is a clock gear, my name is a time pun, Jasmine. You should expect as much”. Danny sticks out his tongue at her, but answers his dad’s confused expression, “clocks count time, keep track of it. And time is ClockWork’s job, their work. So they’re a clock that works. ClockWork”. Jazz groans, “you’re awful, both of you”.

Jack shakes his head, amused, at the, clearly mischevious and jokester, ghost. Before gesturing over to the living room, “so movies? I’d say pull out Danny’s baby home videos....but with what I’ve learned of you, that’d be really pointless”. Maddie nods, following Jack to stand in the doorway, watching Danny untangle himself from ClockWork’s purple cloak, “they probably watched him grow up”. 

Maddie gets startled by ClockWork, clearly not expect them to actually comment on what she said, “indeed I did, I knew how important he’d be, especially to me. Of course, I paid more attention to his growing up than most”, ClockWork smiles fondly while Danny just blushes, blushing even more as a child ClockWork sits on his shoulder, ghostly tail lazily wiggling and occasionally tracing along his collar bone. 

Jazz mutters, “again, adorable. Weird, but adorable”. While Maddie shakes her head, “how is that not rather creepy”. Danny just shrugs at her, walking past her to the couch, he’s really got no way to explain why it’s not; it just isn’t. Letting ClockWork float off his shoulder, changing into their teenage form, before sitting on the couch; Danny cuddling into them. Jazz puts herself in between Danny and their parents, obviously playing the role of protective, and overbearing, sister. 

 Jack eventually settles on some sci-fi movie, Maddie eyes ClockWork’s tail as Jack puts in the movie, “why the constant tail? Wouldn’t legs be more comfortable?”. ClockWork gives her a warm smile, “I always have a tail. As Daniel has said, I’m not like other ghosts. I don’t have things other ghosts do, legs are one of those things”. 

“Huh”, with that everyone settles in and watches the movie mostly silently.

Danny, chuckling after a while, “I’m going to guess that it’s a little early to drag everyone to ClockWork’s lair, ain’t it?”, Danny can’t help but tilt his head back and laugh as both his parents speak up at the same time. Mixtures of excitement, worry, and mistrust in their voices. 

“You’ve been to a ghost lair!?!”.

“You went into the ghost zone! Danny! You know how dangerous that is!?!”.

“What’s the air like?!? Does h-they have furniture?!? Is it all green?!?”.

“Were you safe? Please tell me you were at least together the whole time...”.

ClockWork raises their hand, “I might be able to control time and in general be quite content to indulge curiosities, but even I’ve got a limit to my tolerance. Patient as I may be”, frowning slightly before continuing, “this is far more socialising than I get in an entire year, I’m a solitary thing; with nothing but silence for company for most of my existence”. 

Jazz mutters, “once again, that’s kind of awful”. ClockWork shrugs, “it’s my existence, and it will never change. I’m made for it, meant for it; so push aside your pity, it is misplaced”. 

 “Anyway...”, Danny chuckles, rolling his eyes at his long-winded other. Leaning forward and looking to his mom, “it’s perfectly safe, mom. Especially the clocktower citadel, there’s probably no better protected or harder to find places in the whole Zone”, chucking and shaking his head, “you can’t even find the place at all, unless ClockWork here wants you to. Same for getting inside, or finding ClockWork themselves. That’s not even mentioning that the place exists in a different state of time and gets visitors from other timelines”. 

Maddie mutters, “well I guess that’s secure enough”. Danny nods curtly before turning to his, practically bouncing and bursting with curiosity, dad, “yes they’ve got furniture, mostly purple or black though. Lots of gears and bits of clocks, viewing screens and portals to timelines, pasts, presents, and futures”. 

ClockWork chuckles, “at least you’ve learned not to jump through them, without at least asking, now”, ruffling Danny’s hair, “even if you did have to learn that the hard way, like usual”. Danny looks away and makes a show of pouting, “you can’t present someone with the option to time-travel and expect them to not take it, Gears”. ClockWork tilts their head down to look at Danny’s face, “yes well, most folks don’t mess up the past every single time. How you manage that is both endearing and ridiculous”. Tilting their head over to Jazz, “it took a whole year to fix it last time, and all he did was pick up a rock”, turning back to Danny, “out of all the rocks you decide to poke, of all the possibilities, you manage to grab the only one stopping a river from collapsing”. 

Danny just shrugs guiltily while Jack chuckles, “wow, sounds like you’ve dragged Danny-boy on some adventures”, chuckling again, “or more so, he’s dragged you on them”. While Jazz snickers, quietly speaking, “reckless as ever”.

ClockWork easily catches Maddie glaring at them, waving their elderly hand dismissively at her, “I’m aware of all of time, I was fully aware of where and when he was at all times. I also knew what and how he was going to mess things up well beforehand”, shrugging, “but he had lessons to learn, so I let time take its course. We met when he was fourteen, so there was plenty he had yet to learn. As I’ve said-”, patting Danny’s head, “-he likes to learn things the hard way, or weird way”. Danny grunts, “least I’m not boring”. 

 Jack can’t help but chuckle, slapping his knee, “well that’s a Fenton for you!”. Maddie points at them, “you better not have been together when Danny was that young”. 

ClockWork puts up one hand to pacify her, “but of course not, it was by no means the time for this. I was simply a friend and occasional guiding hand”. Danny pokes their cheek, “you and your soft spot for me. Wouldn’t have done all that for anyone else”, smirking mischievously at the teenage ClockWork, “and imagine my surprise when I discovered that soft spot was heart-shaped”. Danny doesn’t even attempt to hide his wider smirk, hearing ClockWork’s steadily ticking clock core tick a bit louder. 

Alt Ending:

“WARNING, GHOSTS DETECTED. ONE FOOT. WARNING, APOCALYPTIC ECTOPLASMIC THREATS WITHIN ONE HUNDRED FEET. ONE IDENTITY KNOWN, DANNY PHANTOM. TYPICAL GHOST POWERS, ICE POWERS, GHOSTLY WAIL, ONE UNKNOWN POWER. POWER LEVEL TWENTY-FIVE. ONE IDENTITY UNKNOWN. POWERS UNKNOWN. POWER LEVEL TWENTY-EIGHT”. 

Danny pales at every word, mentally freaking out a bit, ‘oh, oh no. This is so not how they were supposed to find out. But-but would they shoot? Shoot me? My other? I- what do I even do?’, blinking and scooting closer to Horace protectively, ‘protect, always. Always protect. But, but I don’t want to have to! I shouldn’t have to! Heck! I might need the protection myself!’. Feeling Horace sigh, ‘they knew this would happen...but then why?’. Mentally pausing for only a few seconds, ‘of course, they, they’re looking to protect, protect me...oh god this isn’t going to go well, is it?’. 

Danny easily hears Jazz suck in a breath, while Horace mutters into Danny’s ear, “not every secret can be kept forever, you’ve had enough resets by now to know this. I’m sorry for this, my MoonFlower”. Jazz mutters into the table, “stuff detecting Danny, again?”. 

 Maddie stands, glancing at the device before glaring at the pair and responding, with a strained voice, “no, Jazz. It only detects ghosts”. 

Jack doesn’t know what to do, surely he would have known if his son was overshadowed and he-both of them actually-clearly didn’t appear ghostly. So what was the truth, “Danny?Phantom?”. 

 Horace sighs, their eyes leaving Maddie’s to glance at Danny’s. Conflict clear as day in them, feeling his grip tighten on their dress shirt sleeve; Horace watching him sadly as he does.

Maddie interrupts their slight intimacy, “ghosts, no games. Where’s my son, the real one”. 

Danny sighs, giving Horace a pained smile, eliciting sigh from them as well; but this time it’s laced with resignation and, of all things, determination. 

 Horace turns their head back to the two Fenton parents, both of them are now flicking between glaring at Horace accusingly and at Danny, who’s practically pressed into Horace, hatefully. “Indeed, I did tell you as much”, Horace says through a frown as Danny phases the two of them through their chairs, but, due to their physical closeness, Maddie and Jack can’t tell who did it. Horace wraps their arm protectively around Danny’s shoulder, Danny does the same around Horace’s waist. 

 Jack jerks out of his chair, sending it crashing to the ground; while Maddie goes to aim her gun. Jazz practically jumps out of her seat and slams her hand onto Maddie’s gun, “mom! Stop! Don’t, that’s Danny, the real Danny”, quickly sparing Danny a sympathetic glance, “he always has been”. 

Maddie ignores Jazz and practically growls, “that’s not “Danny” anything, Danny’s no ghost”. Stepping closer to the table, “how do you even look human? How dare you pretend to be our son, our Danny”. Glaring even harder, “and that other thing is almost just as bad”. 

 ‘Well isn’t this just damn peachy. I guess I always was going to have to fling my self into the Zone eventually. Here’s hoping I can do that with getting fully offed’. Clearing his throat, hoping to at least buy time or maybe, just maybe, get them to understand; to not hate him or his other, “I know we’re ghosts. Phantom, yes; but I’m still Danny. I always have been, I’ve never been pretending. Ghost aren’t evil, unfeeling things. I’m your son”, shuffling a bit, “only half ghost though, me. But that shouldn’t matter, none of this should mat-”, Danny gets cut off by Maddie firing her gun off at the floor. 

 Jazz jerks back, startled, unsure if that was just cause of her mom’s extreme grip or if she did that intentionally. Jazz gets her answer as Maddie snaps, “that’s not even possible, ghosts are nothing but liars and evil. Ectoplasmic scum!”, Jack grabs and pulls Jazz to the side as Maddie storms towards the couple. 

‘Oh god, she’s-she’s really going to, going to shoot at me?!? What the hell?!?’, Danny can’t help but curl into Horace’s side like a kicked puppy; tears welling up in his eyes. 

 Maddie snaps again, though not lifting her gun up, “how dare you tell me lies about my son! How dare you come into a hunter’s home and think you can trick us!”, sneering at them, “ectoplasmic filth always thinking so little of humans, but Fenton’s aren’t your usual and we won’t be trick by such filth”. 

Horace then does something Danny’s never seen them do, they snarl; teeth bared and eyes red, full-blown snarling at Maddie, “you’re already believing lies, but the one telling you those lies is yourself. Little Raven Dove deserves better than that”. 

 Horace’s glaring doesn’t falter and their teeth stay bared, as Maddie sneers at them, “enough with the lies, ghost. Things like you have no place in this world, even if half ghosts were possible; a ghost is still a ghost. Half of one is just a bastardised monster”. 

Jazz gapes at Maddie while Horace sighs pitifully at Maddie, giving Jazz a soft apologetic smile before returning to snarling at Maddie, “you mortals always insist on learning things the hard way, but this is a lesson you don’t get to rewrite. Pick your actions carefully”, feeling the slight shaking in Danny’s tightly gripping hands and slight wetness on their shoulder, Horace stands defiant, holding one hand behind their back, and spits their words like venom, “though your ill-chosen words have already failed you”. 

 Jazz tries to pull away from her dad, but his grips firm though he looks at her confused; not understanding why she appears to be crying. Jazz cries out, though her gut tells her words are pointless, “mom! Don’t! Please! Can’t you for once in your life realise your science isn’t perfect! That you could be wrong! Because you’re wrong!”, struggling more, “Danny is strange, yes! But that’s ok! That’s good! He does good! Leave my little brother alone!”. 

 Maddie flinches from her daughters' words, but only looks at the two with more hate, hissing out, “you corrupted her. You messed with my baby girl”. 

Danny nearly whimpers, “no...”. But he can see there’s no arguing with her and Horace knows there’s not, they always knew such. Horace, pushing Danny behind them slightly, feeling Danny’s fingers brush against theirs behind their back; knowing that Danny knows what they intend to do.

 Snapping at Maddie at the feel of Danny’s slight shaky nod, “the only one corrupting anything is you. You were blessed with a celestial child, a son of star fire. One blazing more pure and bright than any sun, yet you refuse, you reject. But I expected as much, I knew as much, I saw as much”. Shaking their head disappointedly, “in another time you may have earned the right to see me, to know me; but not in this one, not this time. You deserve nothing more than to crumble and fall with the sands of time, and you will, times told it so. Horace means time keeper for a reason, I keep times truth and times truth is thus”, frowning sadly at Maddie as she slowly, attempting subtlety, charges up her gun. Catching Jazz’s nearly inaudible whisper, “ClockWork...I...thank you...”. 

Attention squarely back on Maddie, “truth will forever be a mystery to you, you’ll grow old and die; without a son, without a daughter. You will join the Ghost Realm, bitter, lonely and endlessly resentful. You will be rejected there, you will reject yourself; though Snow White, far to fair, will forgive you. You’ll be too far gone and so you’ll join that foolish power-mad space nomad, exiled. But he’ll destroy you, fuelled by his own bitter, lonely, resentment”. 

 Everything is silent for a second, an all too familiar calm before the storm; familiar especially to Danny, one far too used to living in storms and awaiting the next one. Mentally muttering, ‘oh look, another tornado to destroy my whole life’. 

Jazz tries her damnedest to pull away from her father as she watches her mother jerk the gun up, finger on the trigger. Seeing Horace, ClockWork, pulling out their staff seconds faster. Slamming away Maddie’s gun as they spin the staff, creating a portal. Jazz cries even harder and slams her fist on Jack’s chest after she can see Danny disappear safely with his other. An other she knows will protect him and help him heal from this, she doesn’t have to worry about him but she’ll be damned if her “parents” get away with hurting her little brother so. 

The last thing Danny sees of his family is Jazz slamming her second fist into Jack’s chest. Blinking and staggering away from ClockWork a bit, as he sees they’re on a grassy hill; countless stars above and Amity’s city lights in the distance. 

Whipping at his eyes before collapsing back into ClockWork’s satin cloak, “I’m sorry Daniel, my little stargazing Space Boy, but it’s all I could do”, cradling the young halfa they love into their chest, his tear-streaked face pushing harshly into their neck. 

“I know”, comes out quiet and broken; yet ClockWork feels the words echo like a gong and scream beyond any ghostly wail.

End.

[i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships]

A Slice Of My Love. Chapter 8. The One Where I Get Sent Downstairs And Em Gives You One Of The Stupidest Things She's Come Up With.

Hello, my children! If you saw the teaser then you know where this is going. I think writing about Virgil losing his sanity is making me lose mine. Anywho, it’s serious talk time.

Parings: Vilonso/Deathbread. (Oh god that felt weird to write. I’m normally the person who looks at people’s ocs, not the person who makes ocs.)

Tw: Heathers and Be More Chill references, cursing, a slight NSFW mention (if you’ve listened to the song More Than Survive you know what I’m getting at), bomb mention, the death/murder of the fourth wall, and Virgil being insane. (The norm for this book)

Ok here’s a new thing: I’m going to link the four songs that are mentioned/sang/used: 

I Am Damaged (from Heathers tw: explosions, suicide, and suicide mention): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlVxhg-HVCk 

Candy Store (from Heathers): 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQOoTX1Nxx8

More Than Survive (from Be More Chill): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuOrwWdJFEs

Voices In My Head (from Be More Chill): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvpaivDBwQs

(Both Be More Chill songs the original cast recording because I listened to like 6 lines of More Than Survive from the Broadway one and hated it. (Will Connolly is SOOO much better for Jeremy) Look at this!! I’ve only been into this show for two days (on the day of publishing this chapter) and I have incredibly strong opinions already!!! And Heathers is the world premiere cast recording because you can hate me later, I hate the West End version of Heathers. They used the HIGH SCHOOL replacement for Blue!! I can tangent more about how much I hate the West End version of Heathers and the Broadway version of BMC later if you so wish.)

Virgil’s POV

----

“Virgil, could you please go downstairs?” Patton asked me.

Well, good luck to princey. I think we just got Ramen murdered. Oops, I did it again. I played with your- Why are you like this? Why are either of you like this?

I let go of Roman’s hand and begrudgingly went downstairs. I want to know what they were saying. Actually, I think I can find out. 

Em, what are they talking about?

(Now is not the time for you to find out.)

You’re writing this chapter before you write what they’re saying, aren’t you?

(Umm… Maybe!! But I have notes!!!)

Ahh yes, the very “scientific notes” you have that are written in cursive, with the all caps too because you're just extra like that.

“FaLsEhOoD!!!!!!!!!”

I jumped at Logan’s screech. Jesus!! What was that for?

(Dunno, it was funny.)

You know what will be funny? Seeing how you work that into the next chapter.

(Virgil, Virgil, Virgil, I already know how I’m gonna add that to the story. I’m decently smart when I feel like it.)

I can just hear the angry readers. Like I said in chapter 2, there is no fourth wall for this cautionary tale. For my chapters at least. OH!! That’s a funny idea.

(To the tune of I am Damaged)

It is damaged. 

Far to damaged. 

The readers think it’s not beyond repair.

I’ll stick around here.

I won’t make things better.

Cause Em’s beat us fair and square.

Step away from the wall now.

Little further.

I know what this thing will do.

Hope you miss it.

Please don’t kiss it.

I don’t need to know that you worship it.

It won’t trade its life for yours.

(Virgil what are you doing?)

And once it disappears,

(I’m in love with the reference but I’m confused.)

There’ll be a mess down here.

(Why do you have a bomb?)

Say bye to the wall.

Say bye to the wall.

Say bye to the wall.

Say bye to the wall.

(*Snaps fingers* There’s no more wall.)

What the? Why did you take my bomb?

(This is why Roman is JD.)

It would’ve been fine.

(You were planning to throw a bomb at the fourth wall. How would that have ended well?)

Magic!

(Ok. Yeah. We’re done. I’m gonna go now. I’ll still be the present force giving you existence. But I’m done with you. Too much lack of basic intelligence here.)

Well, at least I can have a bomb again.

(Oh yeah! And no more bombs.)

Whatever. 

I was too busy talking with Em to notice Alonso on the counter again. It startled me. But now I had the perfect opportunity to talk to him without getting interrupted.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He’d been staring at me since I came downstairs I think. He got off the counter and walked over to me. “Ehh. Not too long.”

You know what? He’s like really sketchy. We’re gonna question him to the ends of this Earth.

“How did you get here?”

“I just appeared.”

That’s a constructive answer. “No like the first time. I could’ve sworn that it was only me and Pat in the kitchen.”

“Yeah I kinda just appeared then too. Also, sweety stop slouching and your bangs!! Who the hell gave you permission to walk around with your hair like that?”

That’s who he reminded me of. The critic character from Thomas’ last video. I told Roman that the character was too similar to Remy, as the fans have dubbed the sleep character from Thomas’ shorts. Did he listen? No.

The fans didn’t care though. The love the critic. If I’m not mistaken this one discord server has dubbed him “Critic Anton Dice”. (Shout out to all my wonderful friends in the The Kinds Of Minds You’d Only Find In Hell discord server! Y’all are amazing!!!)

Still something else though. I can’t quite place my finger on it and it’s pissing me off.

That something else is why you think he’s hot. Not true. It is true. Remy pisses us off, the critic guy is an ass. It’s that something else. Both of you need to shut up or I’m yeeting myself out a goddamn window!!

That shut them both up.

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck about my hair or posture. And not gonna lie, your ‘appearing’ is kinda creepy.”

He rolled his eyes at me and fixed my bangs. “Ugh! Fine if you won’t fix them yourself I’ll do it.”

He fussed over my hair for quite some time. Once he finished, he finally brought up the ‘just appearing thing’.

“Don’t you just appear?”

I took mild offense to that. See? We don’t think he’s hot. He’s just an ass. The something else is hot. Can you both just stop? The option to yeet me out a window is still on the table. Just saying.

Anyways. I took mild offense to that. “See that’s the thing.” You have no clue how badly I wanted to say ‘with you plastics’. Not the time tho. “I appear in a not creepy way. You just pop up on the counter and don’t make a sound. It’s kinda terrifying.”

He scoffed at me. “Does it look like I care?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyways, do you guys have any coffee?” He asked.

There we go there is the Remy. You’re not wrong. Ya know, it’s kinda nice to have the voices in your head get along for once. SHUT UP!! BESIDES, HE’S STARING!!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET HIM COFFEE!!! GODDAMN!!! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!

I played of the incredibly pissed voices in my head like they were nothing and answered Alonso’s question. “Uhh, yeah we have coffee, but it’s like noon now.”

“Do I look like I care? This bitch needs his Starbucks.”

“We have coffee, not Starbucks.”

“Whatever, I just need caffeine.”

Huh. This guy really is Remy, isn’t he? Yeah, he is. I need coffee too so it’s a win-win.

I walked to the kitchen and started making coffee. While the coffee machine was doing coffee machine things, I was sitting on the counter. Alonso had started looking through the cabinets.

I cocked my head to the side messing up my recently “fixed” bangs.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for sugar. You got any?”

“Yeah. It’s in that cabinet.” I pointed out the one that should have the sugar. I have no clue if it does. He went to the cabinet that I had told him that the sugar should be in and started combing through it.

I stared at the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish. I had subconsciously started to drum my hands on the counter-top. “C-c-c-come on!! C-c-c-come on!! Go! Go! C-c-c-come on!! C-c-c-come on!! Go! Go!”

Ok. You have no right to judge me. I fricken love Be More Chill. I continued with the song. Slowly getting louder. “I’m waiting for my porno to load. My brain is gonna fricken explode.”

The coffee finished. I grabbed two mugs, still singing. Like I said, I fricken love Be More Chill. I’m not gonna sit there and only sing 4 lines of More Than Survive. Also, the next part of the song fits. 

“And now, of course, it’s time to hit the road.” I poured some coffee into the mugs “Which means I’ll be uncomfortable all day, but that really isn’t such a change. If I'm not feeling weird or super strange, my life would be in utter disarray. 'Cause freaking out is my okay.” 

If Jeremy Heere isn’t me than I have no clue what is. “Good morning time to start the day.”

“But it’s noon.”

I jumped at the voice. I may or may not have forgotten that Alsonso was still there. I attempted to recover from the very obvious fact that I’d forgotten about his existence.

“It’s called Be More Chill. Have you ever heard of it?”

He had found the sugar and it was sitting on the table. I brought over the two coffee mugs.

He scoffed. “Of course I’ve heard of Be More Chill!! What rock do you assume I’m living under??”

Extra bitch. You’re not wrong though.

Me, being the idiot I am, actually, I’m not an idiot. This rather creepy man is. You don’t just interrupt someone jamming out to a Be More Chill song like that. 

“So why did you interrupt me?”

He gave me this look of judgment. But judgment and something I couldn’t read. 

What is it with you and not being able to read things today? First the something else and now this?

Yet another way I relate to Jeremy Heere. I could feel myself zoning out again.

“And there are voices in my head. So many voices in my head. And they can yell and hurt like hell, but I know that I'll be fine. I still have voices in my head. Yeah, there are voices in my head. Of the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine!” I had started singing again. “Loudest one is mine! Loudest one is mine!”

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Roman walking downstairs and screaming “C-C-C-COME ON!! C-C-C-COME ON!! LET’S GO!!!”

One thing that y’all need to know about being best fucken friends with Roman: He will randomly start screeching lyrics from random musical theater/Disney songs at random times.

In that moment, I was singing Voices In My Head. This added the idea/impulse (you never know with Roman) to his brain to either join in at some random part or jump in once I had stopped, even if that meant restarting the song. We don’t care.

Yes, we. 

Roman doesn’t give a fuck. 

I don’t have any fucks to give.

Anywho, I joined him. “C-C-C-COME ON!! C-C-C-COME ON!! LET’S GO!!!”

I heard Logan groan behind him. “OH MY GOD!! BOTH OF YOU NEED TO SHUT UP!!!!”

I locked eyes with Roman to make sure that we were in sync for the plan that was forming in our heads.

I stood up. Roman steamed “SHUT UP HEATHER!!!!” I very over dramatically fell on the floor. Roman then began to sing the Candy Store riff. I quickly stood up and sang “TIME FOR YOU TO PROVE YOU’RE NOT A LAME ASS ANYMORE!!!” 

We both came in for the end. “AND STEP INTO MY CANDY STORE!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY!!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY!!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY SOOOORE!!!!!!”

We looked at Patton and Lo-, well, he had gone upstairs again. So we looked at Pat. He looked like he was about to flip his lid. 

I mean, Pat had never been one for Heathers, or BMC, because of the death, murder, sex, cursing, drinking, and drugs/smoking in the shows. It’s sad though!!! All of the good shows are the ones that aren’t 100% kid-friendly!!

I looked back at Roman. We began to laugh hysterically.

I realized that Alonso wasn’t there anymore. Like anywhere. 

But I didn’t care. 

Right now wasn’t about Alonso. 

Right now was about me being a theater geek with my best friend.

----

Y’all can judge me later for all of the BMC and Heathers references!!! Heathers is Virgil’s favorite and then BMC. Fight me.

I would say that this chapter is the longest, but it’s only because of my theater tangent (which is a half a page long on google docs) in the first A/N. (The chapter is 5 pages on Google Docs)

Oof. Umm. I don’t like this chapter very much. Well, not as much as the others. I like it more than other chapters, but I still don’t like it. But not enough dislike to rewrite it.

Also, I failed my own goal. I WANTED to make this chapter post 666 on @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships, but it’s post 695. *Sad author/theater geek/prinxietea trash goblin noises* 

But I guess that this is my birthday present to myself? I’m posting this on chapter on September 22. My birthday is September 23. Ehh. Good enough.

----

Ok, so before this gets really confusing:

This is the main voice inside Virgil’s head.

This is the other voice in Virgil’s head.

This is the two voices together.

(This is me, the author, Em, talking to Virgil, adding a random A/N in the middle of the chapter, or just establishing something like a stage direction almost. Ex. (To the tune of I Am Damaged) in this chapter. The difference between this one and the one above it is the parentheses.)

----

The now almost 13-year-old “author” (that isn't really an author),

                            Em

(P.s with the sign-off and this part, the chapter is now just barely over 5 pages long on google docs. I need to cool it with the A/Ns. No one cares/reads the A/N. Why do I tell you guys this random crap?)

----

Taglist (I need to be informed if you’d like to get added, preferably through DMs or the inbox so I can make sure you get added): @winterswishing-reblogs @just-some-gt-trash @thetomorrowshow @iixclementine @an-existing-leah @elatedgiff

[oc-avalanche]

Lucien | SE LE

Rennare Wilder belongs to me

Lucien belongs to the wonderful @josephrussellauthor

Story below for any who’s interested! <3

Knowledge and Knowing

When Lucien had asked the young halfling to train him, Ren was a bit shocked though honored at the same time. It was a strange thing, Lucien was well versed and seemed more in tuned to the world compared to Ren that at times Ren even felt his own lack or education showing. So as Ren lead Lucien to the Gildergreen, just the two of them, he felt his palms begin to ache with an age old pain.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he began. Rubbing at the gloved skin, his uneven pointed ears twitched in slight agitation. “Compared to your education, mine pales in comparison but I will do the best I can to teach you what I know.”

The imperial gave him a curious gaze. “I’m curious as to what you mean, my friend? Did you not study at the college.”

There was a technicality, a yes followed with a but. Yes, Ren had studied at the college but they only had to teach him how to control his powers which he still struggled to this day. The rest of his education was a torment; that was putting it nicely. For the rest of what he knew, Ren was self taught.

Ren gave his friend an uneasy smile, not wanting to go into detail. “It’s a bit complicated. Though you are correct, I did study at the college but only for a short time.” As much as the young redhead wanted to tell his companion his story, there was a sliver of fear, a pain of rejection. “For the most part, I am self taught in the magic I venture in, my goal as a member of the college is to expand not only upon our knowledge of the dwemer and the ancient nords but also the untapped potential of restoration.”

As Ren spoke, his eyes of speckling gold began to resonate a dim glow, his excitement evident in how he seemed to speak from a distance. Yet, Lucien didn’t seem to mind as the halfling went on with his passion of healing. Instead he listened and took notes. Ren remained unknowing of what was happening, taking in the peace he always felt when going on about the restoration skill.

“It’s so strange, how few healers there are in this world. I hope to one day change that, to do something more than just save the world from Alduin but also provide the ways of mending it.” he finished and upon saying the last word, Ren noticed just how much of a tangent he went on. A dark tinge coated his ochre colored skin. “Sorry, I got carried away, didn’t I?” Lucien just smiled and Ren was thankful for the male’s acceptance. “Here,” Ren took a seat and patted a spot next to him for Lucien. “I’ll show you the beginnings of restoration.”

Lucien followed his motion, eyes filled with intrigue; this was something Ren wasn’t quite used to but deep down he didn’t mind. It was nice to have someone rely on him, to be the one that was leaned upon instead of the other way around.

“The one misconception about the school of restoration is that it is meant for the living, humans and elves specifically, but watch,” as he spoke, Ren began to cast a simple spell on a budding flower. It was slow at first. The bud needing small encouragement from the halfling as he spoke in a language that seemed to be developed by the plants themselves. After a few moments, the plant burst with life. Fireflies rose around them, the petals seemed to glow and the imperial gasp in exasperation.

Lucien had only heard such tails in his stories but he never thought they would come true. “This is fascinating!”

The glee that coated his face made Ren smile. “My mother taught it to me, back when I still remained by her side.” Ceasing the spell, he pulled his gloves off and began to pet the petals with his burnt hand. “The world needs as much healing as we do. Little by little, a heart with good intentions will stitch it together -- that’s what she always told me.”

A calming silence fell over them as Lucien watched his companion gaze upon the flower with sad topaz eyes. Whenever there was a mention of family, Ren always had the look of a blissful pain on his lips. A happiness for those around him that reminded him of his own pain; a pride that others didn’t have to suffer.

Taking a breath, Lucien spoke. “Ren, may I ask you something?” Said man nodded, his eyes still glued to the plant. As the imperial opened his mouth he found himself at a lost for words. So many questions buzzed in his head, the power to know so strong but he couldn’t find himself asking the hard questions. Instead he just wanted to know, “What was she like?”

There was a look of surprise on the redhead’s face then a grin that seemed to brighten the whole are. “She was amazing and beautiful,” he continued on, speaking of his mother with great joy and memory. A few times, Ren even began to shed tears but they were just like the laughs that jumped in his throat: quick and seemless.

There is a knowledge in knowing what you want and in knowing in what you should know and in this moment, Ren was thankful for Lucien’s wisdom. Thankful that he wouldn’t have to go into his past and that his friend was genuinely interested in the characters that made him. It was a gift and one that Ren would repay Lucien for. But for now he remained silently thankful.

___

Okay that really sucked but tadaa!! It’s a bit scattered but I was trying to write 3rd POV but also limit it so I wasn’t always in Lucien’s mind cause I don’t know what he’s thinking. XD

This was an experiment to just do writing on tumblr instead of google docs but yeah, I failed. XD

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam Italia episode 10 reaction

so nice of Alice to ask Eva on a date!

Episode 10

Clip 1 - Eva coming for Martino

I feel it’s so fitting for this marshmallow sweetheart Eva to start off leaving comparatively non-confrontational messages for Martino that only escalate when he doesn’t answer, instead of jumping straight to “ISAK PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE NOW” (RUN BOY RUN)

So Eva and Gio seem to be pretty relaxed and comfortable during this conversation about Martino considering their precarious relationship status - like they actually go somewhere else together and sit down, and there’s not a ton of space between them. His body language is pointed toward her. That’s nice that it’s not awkward, but I don’t know how I feel about it narratively, considering there probably should be some tension?

It makes some sense in that Gio seemed like he still wanted to be with Eva when talking to her at the skate park - he put it more on her shoulders, did she still want to be with him? With Jonas there was that “come find me when you find out” but overall it felt more frayed on his end even if he loved her.

But I loved that awkward goodbye kiss! That little customary gesture that’s suddenly got a lot more weight to it as they’re navigating this in-between stage. They’re kinda still dating but they’re kinda not, you know?

Clip 2 - Silvia and Eva in the bathroom

Note that this clip takes place later than the original version, which was paired with the period blood letter and took place right after the Jonas conversation where he asks who Eva is - Vilde asks her the same thing (theeeeme) and Eva bursts out in frustration at the question later talking to Isak. It was overall a more fraught time for Eva, since it was before her reconciliation with Ingrid and smoothing things over with Iben, was thinking she might have to switch schools and had some tension with her new friends after Vilde turned her past into a group presentation. This scene here happens after almost all of those problems have been smoothed over except for her relationship with Gio (which is less awkward than Eva’s with Jonas) and with Silvia (who apologizes during this clip). With that in mind, it’s more comfortable and less fragile.

It also takes the place of the scene where Vilde puts on a fake happy face in the cafeteria and lies to the girls about being with Pepsi Max.

Awww, it’s really nice that Silvia apologized to Eva. And the comment about how she gets used to people hating her is spot-on. it’s worth noting that this is the second time in a short period that Silvia has botched things with a group of girls, and who knows how many times before that.

But again, where does this leave us in terms of a firm arc for Eva? Once more they’ve cut out the thread/theme of who-is-Eva by not having Silvia ask it. Which I don’t inherently mind but I would like there to be a solid line of her character going from point A to point B, like I want there to be, for lack of a better term, a thesis statement about what this season was really about, since that was a strong point of the original S1. But I feel like we won’t know for sure until that final scene with Giovanni.

The original scene lands the point about Eva’s identity, this scene is more about setting up the group reconciliation with Silvia. 

Clip 3-  Awkwaaaaard

Similar to the first clip of the episode, Eva and Gio’s relationship here feels much less awkward than Eva and Jonas at this stage

Gio intentionally approaches her and makes conversation instead of literally bumping into her as Jonas did to Eva. It’s neutral small talk for the most party, and slight inquiries about Martino, it’s not digging deeper, but it still feels like they’re pretty chill. 

That made the fight seem more out of nowhere, though? Like with Eva and Jonas (and other versions) they were walking this fragile ground where they were being polite, and there was that rush of seeing each other and being like, oh, you make me so happy, but you could also sense how fragile and delicate it was through their body language and expressions and pauses, and so when P-Chris comes around, it’s easy for it to break. With this scene, they feel so comfortable that Gio suddenly shoving Fede didn’t feel right, they were on more stable ground. Like I would’ve bought his appearance suddenly creating the awkwardness between Gio and Eva, and Gio having to excuse himself, but not the 0 to 100 in two seconds here.

It doesn’t help that we didn’t see Gio react until he shoved Fede, like the way it was shot was a little weird. At first I couldn’t tell when Gio saw Fede coming down the hall and if Fede made the comment within earshot of them, since we didn’t get a good reaction shot of Gio to Fede’s presence. Plus having Jonas notice P-Chris and get tense was what prompted the “awkward” comment in the first place. Fede just seems like a shit-stirrer, lol.

Lmao, Edoardo did nothing to break up this fight. He redirected Fede with one hand to keep walking, that was it. On the one hand William gradually descending the stairs to halfheartedly remove Chris from Jonas was the best thing he ever did, but on the other hand, Edoardo not giving a shit at all is funny in itself.

Clip 4 - Not a Meet Cute ... a Start-Over Cute?

Good job, Alice! Federico is not worth the private transportation.

The way they shot this makes it look like the beginning of an Eva/Alice hate-to-love romance, more than any other version of this scene. Right now they have moved past “hate” and are in “tentative friendship” mode.

Lol, so I guess people had some beef with the comment about feminism? I get it, obviously feminism is not about man-hating, probably not the best message to send. But I also thought Alice was clearly making a joke and not being serious about it, so unless there’s some nuance in the wording that doesn’t come through in translation, it didn’t really bother me.

Also, not to go on a personal tangent, but I’m at the point of my life/feminist journey/whatever-you-want-to-call-it where IDGAF about defending feminism against accusations of man-hating, because misogynists will think feminists hate men no matter what you say. You can preface every feminist discussion with 10 paragraphs of clarifying that you don’t hate men and they still won’t care and you’ll just have wasted time and energy coddling anti-feminists that could have been spent on the important issues. For real, don’t bother.

Eva suggesting that the party sounds like a Sapphic shindig and Alice being like “Who said that isn’t the solution?” just ramped up the flirtiness, wowza. Although the line about “sounds like [lesbian night]” was translated a few different ways, using language that was, uhhh, not as neutral as lesbian. I can’t speak to whether it was as offensive in Italian, though.

I forgot, did they say that Alice wrote the message in the bathroom stall? It’s not super important since any gossipy person at school could have written it, but since it substituted for the period blood letter, I’m just curious.

Clip 5 - Party in the streets, puking in the sheets

Is this party taking place on the street? Like are they pre-gaming before they go somewhere? Pre-caking? Street parties seem like a good time.

Lol, Sana is pretty warm and receptive toward inviting Silvia, while Eleonora is like eh, whatever. I feel like Eleonora is the one with the pricklier attitude toward Silvia, which could be interesting to see play out next season since S2 definitely has a focus on that relationship.

“She read it but she didn’t reply” I mean you literally just sent the text five seconds ago, give her a minute.

Making the video for Silvia and asking her to come over is the sweetest thing, damn. Like if I were Silvia, my heart would get so warm. You know, if I wasn’t wasted and two steps from passing out.

So Martino wasn’t invited to this party, he just randomly happened to be in the street hanging out with some pals?

Time for the much-awaited snake roasting scene!

“Did your tits get bigger?” You aren’t fooling anyone, Martino.

Martino’s disappointment at thinking Eva and Gio are back together is super obvious, like he can barely manage to conjure up any fake enthusiasm.

Oh geez. So in the original, Isak lets Eva guess why he ratted her out. There has been a lot of meta and discussion as to whether he wanted Eva to guess the truth, take it off his hands, get it all out. It’s when she guesses that he likes her that he runs with the lie. Here, Martino is the one to say he has feelings for her. He creates the lie. There’s no ambiguity as to whether he wants the truth to come out.

I mean, honestly? I could believe that they changed to the plot to be about Martino having feelings for Eva. I don’t think they will, but I could buy it. Because Martino doesn’t seem like he’s lying, it’s like he’s getting things off his chest. With Isak, he wasn’t being too obvious that he was making stuff up, but on a rewatch you can tell that he’s fabricating this story, especially due to the nuance of Tarjei’s acting. Isak is a liar but he’s not necessarily good at it. He’s human. What he gives is an imitation of swagger and Nice Guy-ism. I don’t get much self-doubt in Martino’s performance.

That’s not to say he’s a bad actor, actually I think he’s one of the better performers on this show, but I did think this conversation was underwhelming compared to the original. There’s such great subtext and especially vulnerability in that scene - they cut out some great moments, such as Eva asking how things were going with his mom before confronting him and us getting to see Isak faking his confidence that everything will work out with his parents. Or Isak saying Eva can’t tell Jonas. Or just the extended explanation of why he did it. 

Plus you can really see Isak squirm as Eva pretends she’s gotten back with Jonas, like she’s playing with her food, and this scene didn’t have that delicious build-up.

Was there a reason why Eleonora couldn’t host Silvia at her place? Like logically I know it’s because they wouldn’t introduce the collective yet, if they’re keeping that, but surely it would be OK to bring Silvia back to a residence with no parents, just two quirky university students? Is Eleonora’s living situation going to be the same?

Sana had a very clear game plan on how to handle the situation, good for her.

Lol, I think this scene inherently loses something without the ironic Christmas music but it was funny to have “I wanna be a bottom feeder” right before Silvia barfs on Sana. Sana’s reactions were pretty good.

When the puking started, I wondered whether they would show Sana without her hijab, and then they did.

OK ... I’m not a Muslim so I don’t want to get too much into this, but:

Sana taking off her headscarf as a mark of her comfort around the girls is a sweet gesture, and from what I understand from reading Muslims’ thoughts, this is OK to do and it’s likely that she wouldn’t get in the bed and fall asleep in her hijab. So that’s fine.

But in a meta sense, I did think oh right ... we’re getting this moment because the actress is not Muslim, and this is a costume for her and she can take it off. Whereas with someone like Iman Meskini, it’s not (according to her personal religious beliefs). There was a few (just a few, not many) comments I saw that were like “Sana’s hair is so pretty, she shouldn’t cover it up” which made me go :/ :/ :/

Eleonora giving Silvia a little kiss on the forehead as they tuck her into bed = awwwww.

“I was just trying to kill Edoardo’s son” uhhhh is that an accurate translation? Because that’s kinda different from “I think I killed William’s baby,” there’s way more intent with the Italian one and it changes how I view Silvia’s opinion on the matter. Like I sort of thought a part of Vilde wanted that baby, for not so great reasons, and that’s why she was insistent with the nurse that she had all the pregnancy symptoms. But you know, maybe not! 

Also, “I tried to kill Edoardo’s son” and the scene ending abruptly with a BAM could be like, a cliffhanger for a crime show if we want to make Skam a much grittier and bleaker show.

General Comments:

I’m wondering about how they’ll handle S3. I think S2 has the potential to be better than the original, but so far the portrayal of Martino has been lacking a lot of that vulnerability that Isak had and the conversation with Eva in this episode reinforced that. Again, I’m not placing the fault on the actor, and obviously we’re just getting started with the character, I just hope they can dig deep into his self-doubt when they come to it.

I’m trying not to get into the debate about this since it’s not my culture, but because I keep seeing comments in the Sana casting debate about the potential lack of Muslim actors in Italy, for comparison:

Islam is the largest non-Christian religion in Norway with about 2.9% of the population officially (about 153,000 people in 2016) and has increased by 26.6% since 2012 (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religion_in_Norway#Islam)

According to the latest Italian official statistics, there are 1.400.000 Muslims in Italy (2.3% of the Italian population), almost one third of Italy's foreign population (250.000 have acquired italian citizenship). (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Islam_in_Italy#Present_day)

Wikipedia, I know, but here’s the Pew Research Center, a very reliable source, putting the 2016 estimate of Muslims in Italy at 4.8% of the population with 2,870,000 Muslims (http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2017/11/29/5-facts-about-the-muslim-population-in-europe/)

I haven’t mentioned this much but the Skam Italia social media team is doing a nice job, some of the texts have been really funny and cute. Shout-out to Martino telling Eva to move to California to work as a waitress in one of those restaurants “where they give you coffee nonstop” because, yeah, that is one good thing you can say about the US. We’re politically a mess but at least our diners will keep your cups overflowing.

I’m not Italian so if I missed some context, feel free to correct me.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

[bleachmymind]

Chance Meetings: Grimmjow x reader

I’m embarrassed at how long it took for me to finish this. Grimm-kitty is one of my favorite Bleach characters for crying out loud.

**Thank you for this request, anon! I ended up using fem!pronouns just out of habit, but I hope you don’t mind! If this bothers you please let me know and I’ll fix it.**

There he goes again. Hat and Clogs just started another tangent rambling on some soul candy or whatever the hell it was that man sold at that old shop of his. The blue haired espada slouched against the wall of the little building, hoping he was at the right angle to get some air to help him cool off. It was hot that particular day. Of course this was the day Kisuke had asked Grimm to help out in front of the shop with those two brats. It never got this hot in Hueco Mundo. The girl held a broom in her tiny hands, quietly sweeping dust off of the porch with a soft glaze in her eyes, and the boy– the one with red hair– sat against the wall as well. He was tossing a baseball up in the air, frown on his face and sweat dripping down his chin. He hadn’t done much. Maybe he kicked a few rocks out of the way, but that wasn’t really his job. Grimmjow had been asked to carry trash bags to the dump, and that was finished at least an hour ago. This Jinta or whatever hadn’t done anything but nag.

 With an annoyed click of his tongue the arrancar pushed away from the wall and made for the shade under the awning over the entrance. It wasn’t even that busy today. Grimmjow stalked grumpily past the entryway door, grumbling to himself, a pout settled on his lips, when a sweet voice perked his ears. It was gentle and soft, pretty. He leaned in the doorway, curious and searching.

 “An excellent choice, (y/n)-san. One of my favorites, personally.“ The blonde shopkeeper cheered, casually fanning himself with a lazy grin on his features. There was someone else beside him, Grimmjow noted. He took another cautious step forward, careful not to step on any of the loose floorboards he may have forgotten to repair last week, and strained his ears to catch a hint of the customers voice. “Ah, what about this? What does this one do?” The voice asked, just as soft. “Oh, that? That’s an older item. It’s meant to keep unwanted spirits away from your home, and if you purchase the package you’ll get a complimentary pocket sized version!”

 Grimmjow watched, curious, as the girl lifted the charm to her eye-level. She studied it, with a furrowed brow and a focused frown on her pink lips. “Oh, maybe next time.” With a slight tilt of her head, the girl placed the charm back in Urahara’s palm. Her hair spilled over her shoulder as she moved. Grimmjow swore he felt his heart speed up. “Thank you, Urahara-san.” Grimmjow blinked and shook his head vigorously. Seriously, this heat must be been getting to him. The female bowed in thanks to the shop owner as she made her way to the door. He, in return, waved his fan with a lazy smile on his face. “Have a nice afternoon, (y/n)-chan~”

That was the last time he saw her for a while. She didn’t come back to Urahara’s shop. Still, she was stuck in Grimmjow’s head like some kind of parasite. Every time he blinked he saw her figure. Every time the door opened, he would hope to see her walk through it. He hated feeling that way. Like his thoughts were being controlled, and by some puny human girl to boot. His mood would become even more sour than usual when he thought about the effect she had on him. That wasn’t fun for anyone involved in the ex-espada’s daily life.

Grimmjow was out in town the day he saw her again.

Urahara asked him to fetch the new deliveries of merchandise for the shop, and he had agreed begrudgingly. The heavy bags felt like nothing on his broad shoulders. They weighed just enough for him to know they were there. He frowned up at the sun that beat down on his skin as sweat rolled down his neck, muttering an irritated curse. Damn heat. Heat makes everything feel ten times harder.

As he trudged down the sidewalk with two bags of pointless items, he caught a flicker of frantic movement in the corner of his eye. He turned, and what he saw made his eyes widen. It was her. That girl from the shop. And she looked nervous, or maybe even afraid? He couldn’t tell from this distance. Then, not far behind her, he saw two hooded figures slinking in the shadows, their gaze locked on her back.

A prickle of unease spread through his chest. The look in their eyes was predatory, something he was all too familiar with from his years spent out in Hueco Mundo’s deserts. With narrowed eyes he started walking again, every so often glancing over to check on the girl and her whereabouts. The woman was frail looking compared to himself. There’s no way she could put up a fight if those guys decided to attack. Lucky for her, Grimmjow was always ready for a fight.

But then, she turned a corner, leaving the arrancar’s line of sight and escaping the creeps following behind her. Grimmjow sighed. The weight on his back and the blistering heat bearing down on his skin is what prompted him to get moving again.

 The rest of the walk home was mostly peaceful, very little dared to interrupt him as he maneuvered through the throngs of people crowding the streets. He would use shunpo, but that girl was still on his mind, and the dudes following her. There was a steady unease building in his chest and because of that, he decided to walk back. Just as he was beginning to regret it, however, a small, soft form crashed into him. The impact was hardly enough to make him stumble, but the person he bumped into was a different story.

They- she, he realized- had fallen onto her behind as soon as their bodies made contact. The girl clutched her head with her eyes shut tight, tutting in discomfort. Grimmjow sneered. “Oi, watch where you’re going, eh?” His voice must have snapped the girl out of her trance because a second after the irritated question left his lips, her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet.

Grimmjow’s eyes widened. It was her. The girl from the shop, the one who was being stalked by those creeps a few moments prior. With a subtle blush rising on her cheeks, the girl looked over her shoulder. She was paranoid, the arrancar guessed. Who wouldn’t be after being stalked for a half an hour? The girl looked over her shoulder, chest heaving and fists held tight against her chest.

 Grimmjow, who was also looking behind the woman’s back, noticed two shadows lurking beside a fruit cart, predatory gaze set on the two of them. Just as he opened his mouth to ask her if she was alright (something he was told to be normally accepted in society) the girl grabbed his shirt in her small hands and tugged him down to her lips. The sudden motion made the arrancar stumble and drop the packages he held over his shoulders.

 The male pulled back slightly, a fierce, bewildered look on his face. Grimmjow was pretty damn sure this wasn’t something a normal, mentally sane person would do out of nowhere unless, of course, it was a dare or whatever. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. The woman shushed him. “Just go with it,” she hissed, pulling him back to her lips. Now, he was also sure that he shouldn’t be doing this, one, because he was told this could be considered public indecency and two, because he’d been thinking about doing this with this same woman for weeks now.

Said woman pulled him back to her lips hurriedly, desperately, almost. Deciding that if she was going to get so into it, he may as well enjoy this, too. With a slight shrug Grimmjow pulled her body close, hugging his arms tightly around her. Part of couldn’t believe this was happening. Scratch that, no part of him could believe it. This was the girl who had been plaguing his mind for weeks.

 He hadn’t felt anything like it in his life. Her lips were warm, soft and sweet all at once, and he couldn’t make himself pull back again. He took careful notice of the weak energies the two men gave off as she kissed him and waited for them to leave. Although, and he hated to admit it, he hoped they’d never leave. He’d been thinking about this woman for days, weeks, and now he was kissing her in the middle of the street. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. All he’d known about her was what she looked like, how sweet and soft her voice was as she spoke.

 When the men left, rolling their eyes and grumbling to one another, Grimmjow gently (at least as gently as he could) poked her side. Her response was jerking away, stumbling, flustered, and breathless. Her eyes met his, wide and shaking, and she immediately started to apologize.

“I’m so sorry! These people have been following me around all day and I couldn’t find anyway to lose them and then I bumped into you and I just kind of jumped on you and I know it was sudden but–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He could still taste her on his lips. The sweet, fruity flavor of her lips stuck with him, fogging up his mind. “I noticed them, too. Really fuckin’ creepy.”

She nodded. She fidgeted on the spot, twiddling her thumbs and doing everything in her power to avoid his gaze. Grimmjow tilted his head back. “What’s your name?” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended, if the jerk of her shoulders was anything to go by, but the girl recovered quickly, straightening her back. “M-my name? It’s (y/n).” Her voice was just as soft as the look in her eyes, he noted. “Grimmjow.” He rasped, narrowing his eyes at her.

(y/n) shook herself back into reality. The flustered, upset frown on her face melted into a smile as she looked him over, clasping her hands behind her back. Now that he was this close, Grimmjow was finally able to get a good look at her. She was even prettier than he first thought, and that smile she gave him was so delicate it made his heart flutter.  “Nice to meet you, Grimmjow.”

And in that moment, he could’ve sworn he was in love.

[seenashwrite]

Hey! I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I'm about to post a one shot, as I was wondering what I put st the top other then how many words and such? I'm just beginning to actually post stories and I want to get things right haha. Sorry if I'm disturbing you or anything!

Oh lovely @spookyphsyco - you have come to the right type-A advice-giver. And you have graciously made this about me, so that I don’t have to. [wink]

Legit apologias if any of what’s below the cut seems patronizing. I’ve tried to inject snark to make it an easier read. I also say sh*t, possibly other blah-blah of a potty-mouthed nature. 

Short version:

Status: Word Count: Category: Rating: Character(s): Pairing(s):Warnings: Author’s Note(s):Overall Summary:

Essentially I put what I like to see, with ever-so-slight, atypical tweaks. Long version/breakdown is after the jump. The ones with stars I think should be exactly where I put them, with the others shuffled however you’d prefer.

* Status:

Complete 

Part ___ of ____

for multi-parts (a.k.a., a mini-series) 

IMO, the ones around 2 or 3 parts; for me, it’s treading on “series” territory after 3

I just stick a ____ after “of” til I’m sure about how many parts

In-Progress 

could stick this after “part __ of ___” thought I find that redundant - this is definitely to be used for series, and which part you’re on should’ve already been noted above, a la “Title: Part __”  

* Word Count:  

I just round up the decimal point if it’s close to/over halfway to the next number, so…. 3,422 could be ”3.4K” or “3.5K”, whatever you like

If you put 3,422 it scares the shit out of people, even though that’ll maybe take 15 minutes to read. Maybe.

* Category: 

A.K.A. - what’s the genre?

The top ones you’ll see are “angst”, “fluff”, “smut”, “crack”, “real person fic/RP/RPF” - confusingly, I also see RPF = “role play fic - advise just type out “real person” and “role play”

I also see “series”, which, whatever - I’d prefer knowing that right off the bat at a glance, hence “status”, that’s up to your pref  

I mostly see Category kick off with either that, or something indicating what’s to come in terms of the life expectancy of your story line, followed with the above genres

Others by life expectancy would/could include:

drabble

imagine

request/”ask”

head canon

Side note: “cannon” = big boom, artillery-style; “canon” is short for canonical, a.k.a. - the official last word on fill-in-the-blank, so for us - the scripts/what we see on the show, Kripke, the writers, the actors, etc.

multi-part

one-shot

alternate universe/AU (which could branch into “AU: Historical”, “AU: Fantasy, “AU: Science Fiction”, etc.)

cross-over

Now, if it’s a cross-over that I want to be a surprise? I don’t mention the title of the movie/book/show If it doesn’t matter? Stick it in the Category (so “Crossover: Brooklyn 99″) plus it’ll also be made clear via the Character(s) category by listing them after the SPN peeps & before the O.C.

I personally don’t use those main five (see above, RE: anal-retentive stubborn mule) as they are too vague for my taste. 

When peeps pass my stuff along or in the rare instances they put me on a rec list, I couldn’t care less when they whip me under one of those or tag it as such, because that’s common parlance that I’m willfully eschewing. I sleep just fine on my fanfic pillow at night.

I use words like “behind-the-scenes canon-compliant”, “mystery”, “introspective”, “melancholia”, “friends-maybe-more”, “family”, “canon-compliant”, “friendship”, “adventure”, “humor”, “parody”, “spoof” - all [IMO] give a clearer idea without spoiling the plot

Special Nash Note regarding a specific pet peeve of mine that you can certainly take or leave, I won’t adore you any less:

Regarding Real Person Fic - the authors who disclaimer the tar out of these Wear. Me. Out. Just own it if you’re gonna do it, no caveats. I more-than-snark/borderline ranted about this here - surprisingly succinctly - should you want to see why

Take home: I find being really specific in your category helps keep your warnings/author’s notes blessedly tight & trimmed, more on that below. 

Rating: 

On this, I essentially use what I see around town, which is “Any”, “Teen & Up” and “18+” - or variations on this.

Nine outta ten, I’m going with “Teen & Up”, because I most always have dense, meaty plots or dry humor that require a fairly well-read person - I’m not being an asshole, it’s for their benefit. They’ll find it boring and/or too complex, it’s not their fault, they just haven’t had enough years on the planet to knock out a lot of books, y’know? 

Character(s): 

I list the not-mines first, and shut it down after maybe three or four, then cap it off with O.C. mention(s)

Sometimes I’ll do a parenthetical - like “Castiel (mentioned)” or “Crowley (briefly)” - because some people hate certain characters but love you or love the plot in general, so if they know someone they don’t like is only gonna be there vaguely, they’ll likely still give it a go

If there’s more - the minor not-yours or minor O.C.s - just put “various” at the end & and move on 

Also nice on multi-parters/series for you to only list the characters that appear in that specific post

I phrase the primary O.C.(s) like: “Female O.C./Reader/You”, something of that ilk.

Negates the need for “Reader Insert” in the categorization, because… well, it’s not how books are arranged online or in stores or in libraries. Perspectives [1st/2nd/3rd] are just that - perspectives - they aren’t genres.

Pairing(s): 

N/A if none, of course

This is one I am completely leaving up to you.

Having said that - dig through other folks’, see what tickles your fancy.

If you dig through mine - I think one I straight up said “Sam x Reader/Female O.C.” because it was an Ask, so the end result was pretty much out there, and on another I put something cheeky like “Endings are better when you don’t know what’s coming.”

And really, aren’t they?  Lookit, I figure if back on your Master Page/Master Post, you’re gonna end up categorizing them by “Angst” with sub-cats a la “Dean x Reader”, etc., may as well blow your wad from the get-go. 

Also remember this is coming from someone who keeps their O.C.s as vague as possible, so that anyone can imagine themselves in the character’s shoes. That’s for reader satisfaction. 

The selfish reason is because I want “Y/N” to die in a horrific fire where it is alive for >65% of the charring. It is so distracting. I’ve now digressed, tangent-style.

Warnings: 

Writing detailed canon? Or an AU that’s cribbing on canon? Whip a little “Spoilers up to Season _″ or what-have-you right out of the gate. 

Otherwise…. okay, biggest over-arching tip:

Things either ARE or they ARE NOT - refrain from going down a huge explanatory road here, a la “Could be considered this, but also could be looked at as that, and there’s sometimes….”

Oh. Sweet. Lord. Bring the chariots & take me now.

There’s a word for this, and it is “dubious”.  

So: “dubious non-consensual situation(s)”; “dubious incestual situation(s)”; etc. 

It’s the formal way of saying “YMMV”, a.k.a. “Your Mileage May Vary”.  I am likely not going to read into the threat of fill-in-the-blank if I’ve not experienced fill-in-the-blank. That’s why it is an “in the eye of the beholder” sort of jam - it’s open to interpretation….

…..but you gotta make sure it is - if Dean and Sam kiss each other with tongue, even once? That is incest. Not dubious. Nope. 

If there’s stuff possibly of concern that you’re not balls-out detailing, the tidy word for that is “allusion”. 

So: “allusion to past sexual trauma”; “allusion to past physical assault”; “allusion to sexual encounters”,etc.

On that last one: again, meaning off-handed comments about rolls-in-the-hay, not anything specific with vivid detailing.

Might want to tack “eventual” in front of these in certain circumstances - more on that in a sec. 

(PS: Writing tip? Shit in the past that made the characters who they are? Leave it there. Allude to it. Unless it is actually happening, no one caaaaaares - we only care about any ripple effects potentially impacting the current story.)

Language - again, things either ARE or they ARE NOT. 

I don’t care if it’s twice or every-other-piece-of-dialogue, or only in a couple of chapters - “mature language” or “coarse language”. Boom. You’re done. Covers cursing and dirty talk and the lot.

Sexy Times - yeah, it may say “smut” under your category/genre, but it doesn’t hurt to toss a clarification or two  

Some folks consider smut “he touched me here” and some folks don’t consider it smut til “he ran his tongue here”. 

I’d go with “graphic sex” or “explicit sex” if you have any wavering on the issue of what to put. But, again: it either is, or it isn’t - if it’s not allusion, then it’s graphic/explicit

Some folks tack on really, really, really specific facets here, where I think a parenthetical would do, and one that covers a gamut, so:

Graphic Sex (anal) this covers digital penetration & toys

Graphic Sex (multiple partners) this covers three-ways and four-ways and… and…. and….

Graphic Sex (kinks) this covers role-playing and toys and voyeurism and… and… and…

Side note: I have noticed that dog-in-heat genre - A/B/O, right? - is listed separately from kinks. Not my jam, so ya got me, I ain’t your gal to consult on this area

I’m not going on - you catch my drift. People who list every type of toy and kink baffle me. Cover the spread, move on, you can always put an asterisk and stick it below the “read more” to be as specific as you like. 

I say this because if a person’s not into “toys” in general? Why on earth would they read on after that warning above.  Also plays into my whole “stories are often better when you don’t know the end” stance. Because they are, dagnabbit. 

Some folks tack on “unprotected sex”, and fine, okay. Would suggest that if you want to add on some sort of advisement of “don’t do that”, “glove up”, “be safe” and what not, you whip an asterisk on there - “unprotected sex*” - and stick it in an Author’s Note post-story, more on those in a sec.

Violence - go with “graphic violence” and “mild-to-moderate violence”

The latter implies TV-level gore/horror, and the former implies movie/cable TV-level. 

If you want, you could quantify it that way - like “show-level violence” or “movie-level violence” (if doing Avengers or Star Trek or whatnot)

Side note: if you’re going for no-holds-barred, Ash Vs. Evil Dead-level action?  Go on & stick “horror” in your category/genre, methinks

Character Death / Major Character Death  

I have never understood this as a warning, seek advisement from someone else on this point. Legit.

That is a major plot point. Why in this world people would want to spoil themselves on major plot points is beyond me. 

Besides, can we stop treating readers like infants? You’ve given an age range/rating. You’ve said there’s violence. You’ve categorized it as angst (or “sorrow” or “mourning” or WHATEVER) and that paints the picture for me, an over-18 adult, one who has heeded the violence and sorrow alerts and has chosen to proceed. YMMV. Nash don’t get it. I’ve gone all tangent-y again. 

Warnings, Part Two - Stories With Two Or More Parts:

So let’s say there’s a kidnap-and-ransom that involves the villain making a threat of raping the captive. But it happens in Chapter Five. 

That “allusion to non-consensual situation” is, of course, told to the reader up front, and here’s the times when you may wanna tack “eventual” on it. 

Then have an “Additional Warnings” or “Chapter Warnings” section on just this chapter post. They chose to read the thing after seeing that broad warning, I know, but it’s still nice to warn them so they aren’t reading it on lunch break at the office or something.

Side note: when doing multi-parters/series, just copy/paste all this stuff on top of each post, then tuck this “extra” note below the overall warning items

Author’s Note(s):   

N/A 

Use this liberally. There should not be a ton to say after you’ve done all that’s above.

The exception here - as in, a “regular appearance” kind of Author’s Note since it doesn’t really fit anywhere else, is an acknowledgment of any editor(s) who may have assisted.

Another to file under “common parlance” - they are called “Beta(s)”/”Beta Reader(s)” around here, even though technically a beta would be someone who’d be your first reader of the final product, post-edit, and pre-publish. [shrugs]

Advise you not wax poetic on their awesomeness - takes up too much space - do your gushing privately, no one cares about your excited feels for that person [sorry-not-sorry] 

Plus it’s kind’ve bizarre - for me, at least - to see effusive praise heaped upon an editor should I read on and find myriad mistakes I’d naturally assume they missed, which brings me to an example of another unneeded note….

…the one post-beta acknowledgment that goes “…so any mistakes below are all mine”.  ????  What, so you had ‘em do all that for you, followed by ignoring the errors they pointed out? Error’s an error. I suspect they mean not altering verbiage or flow or a suggestion of that ilk, but still. Just acknowledge them by their “@” and move on. I digressed.

Regarding challenges - and this is a “Nash Thing” - I advise you don’t put the challenge info here, above the story. 

All it does it lengthen your top note and keep people from the story once they’ve decided to read. I actually went back & re-formatted for this on a lot of my stuff because it made the top part way too long. 

I suggest you put “Author’s Note(s):Post-Story” and lay it out there - the challenge name, whose challenge it is and the prompt. Why?

If you tell readers the prompt - and another “Nash Thing” is that I don’t bold mine - they will subconsciously be on the lookout for it, which takes away the point of the challenge - to seamlessly integrate a random thing

Other “post-story” can be any inspiration you may’ve used - like songs or the details on a cross-over piece. 

For cross-overs, this is a nice place to do a little “Various characters/settings used, verbiage style and minor plot points inspired by Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. 

Plus, you can put links to vid clips or pics of the cast or links to the song or c&p lyrics of the song - whatever. Point is, it doesn’t take up story space so readers can pass it by if they so choose

* Overall Summary: 

My preference is that this is the last thing I see before I start the story, because I’ve seen all the details above, I’m almost sold, and this is what’s going to get me to scroll. Well, initially. First-scroll page-closers are another topic. 

“idk, i’m not good at these/i suck at these/omg these are so hard/i can’t really say”   –  No, no, no, you said plenty. You just told me you write garbage & that I shouldn’t waste my time.

Sometimes these will be a handful of sentences, and I’ve found that when I’m being cheeky on a parody/humorous story, that’s when they tend to be longer - mainly because I’m really trying to drive home that this is not merely “fluff” or “crack”. It’s what I said it was in “Category” - it’s “humor” and/or “parody”. 

Normally: one-to-two short-ish sentences or three quick sentences. 

No really. 

No, really. I don’t care how long the story is. 

Now, the novel-length ones? Maaaaybe a quickie paragraph of, say,4-to-5 brief - BRIEF - sentences for the umbrella. Then - like we were talking about with the chapter specific warnings? - you can delete the “overall” summary or tack on underneath a sentence about the chapter below IF something pertinent should be noted/you’d want to know it if you were the reader.

Am I an asshole if I put examples of mine? Eh. Here you go, and I stuck an example of an atypical A/N below, as well as what my longest looks like. The Mobile Master has pretty much the same descriptors as the story post itself, but none of the rest of this stuff - if the summation grabs ‘em, then they’ll click through for more of the scoop.

A Delicate Desiccation - they’re told about melancholy, but my stories had been out for awhile, so I *did* pop an atypical A/N (because it wasn’t really a warning, per se) on there to tell the regulars that this was a darker piece than they’d be used to; if I told more than I did in that summary - and shit, I give a big ass breadcrumb via the title card, not to mention the wording of the summary - it would wreck the ending.

Top of the World - novel-length, and readers get blips of a summary for each chapter (at least, on AO3, as FFnet doesn’t allow for it). The chapters average 10K. I did not come to play. It’s structured to read like you’re watching a season of behind-the-scenes-canon SPN, I’ve been clear I’m doing it in tandem with the active season(s), so I’m not gonna warn them “SPOILERS!” every chapter. I’m tired. I’m old. My fingers hurt, Spooks. My keyboard’s angry with me.  

Hope this helps! Or at least didn’t give you a headache. You’re ahead of the game already, just by asking the question. I think you rock. And I’m always right about knowing these sorts of things about people.

So sayeth the Nash, so say we all. 

[jakemansbridge-blog]

Practice 1 - Places of the Mind

1 week project on the subject Places of the Mind.

After being shown Mirror in Mind By Seunghee Kim, I really enjoyed the aesthetics, but more so how one preserves themselves. The fun light-hearted manner of Seunghee Kim is really delightfully humorous even though focusing on quite serious topic that of body image, career life and her own self worth. But, the physical and abstract qualities she has illustrated in the work is really interesting and dream-like. 

Mirror in Mind 2014 directed by  Seunghee Kim .

I wanted to focus on a simular idea, that of self image and the mind, but reflecting on how we create those the ideas themselves. How something grows in our mind from abstract to something more tangible to something almost physical, either negative or positive.

Started exploring the properties of “growth of an idea” focusing primarily in music. How music builds, with small motifs or riffs into an orchestral number, or how ideas enter and leave and reappear later on. Two in particular.

Spiritualized - Ladies and Gentlemen We are Floating in Space 1977. - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iB7E1D_3Na4

Is a wonderful example of building narrative from layering of ideas and motifs. Get a complexity of thought, the feeling of some internal discussion, with the overlapping lyrics.

All building towards a crescendo of an almost Disney like imagination with a large choir, then ending on a small melancholic ending. It is more the thought process of a relationship and the imagination of love, rather then the love itself.

Second piece is more a look at music build from an instrumental quality,  El Cid by Leftfield 1999.

Starting from a static crackle and the building and layering of motifs and riffs, lyrics. Then dropping and repeating, you as a listener get pulled into an almost trance like state as the music takes you on this organic journey of sound.

The building of ideas and particularly the soundscape of Leftfield made me think of the flow and movement of lava lamps, how they fluctuate, creating, making shapes and forms, then descending or breaking a part.

This idea, lead me on a slight tangent of lava lamps, how they move fluidly, falling, connecting, creating shapes and abstracts before collapsing and becoming nothing again. (An almost physical representation of thought and ideas possibly)

Video by  Richard Lloyd titled  Lava Lamp Yellow 4+ Hours Of Relaxing Decompress Enjoy See Bonus 16X Speed At 4hrs 6 Min.

Wanted to create this fluid abstraction into something more physical and tangible.

Page of sketch book, wanted abstract shapes forming wanted it to be floaty and moving fluidly, dream like quality.

Main starting image wanted it to be very abstract, lava lamp flow, some aspects of Picasso and kind of tribal artworks.

Self Portrait After Messerschmidt 2009 - http://www.tonybevan.com/Tony_Bevan_Self_Portrait_After_Messerschmidt_PC0913.html

Ispirations Tony Bevan’s self portraits. Very forceful portrait, you can see the strain in the faces, but there’s also something quite peaceful or mindful quality about them, you expect the work to almost float upwards or continue to grow. The stretching of the neck the almost graphic style of the face, pressure to it. 

Another sketch book page, the idea of finding and searching for your self image, creating it then coming to terms or excepting it. LIKED THE IDEA OF CONFRONTATION AT THE END.

Character designs, wanted to keep it really simple, not over complicate it. Keep with the idea of an “idea” of shape, the “idea” of form.

A very rough story board sketch. Wanted to keep the animation very flowly and organic. Plus a small quote from an old notepad I had, thought it fit nicely however wanted a more sympathetic and positive end to the story. 

A rough sketch of a storyboard, also a quote from my old note pad - thought it was kind of the feeling and tone I wanted to go for however with a more sympathetic ending.

Choose not to do a full animatic as I wanted the piece to be flowly and almost without purpose. Very organic!

Saying that had an outline of what the story was to be.

Head - ideas form

They leave the head, swirling and forming on there own.

Creates a circle, then an eye.

Zoom out the eye, is a man, the man is alone in a room.

A giant hand comes down and picks up the man.

The giant hand and man is pulled out of a head, a larger man. Looks at the small man and smiles.

End

Final little sketches, really like the imagery the man putting his hand in his own face. 

Might also go with the reverse colour, white on black, creates a more dream-like quality. 

While working on the animation I found a piece of work by  Daniela Sherer titled Shirley Temple. 

The Shirley Temple by  Daniela Sherer 2014,  - https://vimeo.com/68803061

Wonderful and quite uncomfortable piece of work, a great example of abstract shapes into more tangible forms. It is an exploration of a Mum’s party both from the Mum’s perspective and one from the child’s. Very abstract depictions of memory, as the adults at the party are large heavy blocks and shapes that move around, the transitioning between form and shape, and sound of different objects of the room. The transitioning between the child’s view, to his comfort imagination of the astronaut floating in space (call back), and to his mother’s view. Flowing seemlessly, and often becoming muddled, having to watch it several times to find out which story belongs to whom. A great example of flowing narrative, and flowing animation, to create a piece about childhood, becoming an adult and how your perception of the world changes, it is beautifully sad and tragic.

[jamesharringtoncreativeworks]

As an avid gamer and realist who tries his best to find the medium, I’ve always wondered what the best outfits are for my characters/companions. I honestly try to find the best fit between the practical:

And the not so…

Ahhh… okay, that has been burned into my retinas… For everyone scarred by that, I apologize.

Yeah, for aesthetic reasons, I’m going to to use my Skyrim companion for all further examples. Yes, she’s female… I know I know, ‘typical male gamer, blah blah blah!’

Look, my blog is about MY OPINION on different geek and writing topic. Opinion, not appeasement. If it’s appeasement you’re looking for, I’m sure there’s a liberal arts community college nearby that’ll be happy to cater to you.

Ahem.

Honestly, my overall opinion on the different armor is that everyone has their own imaginations, vices, views of beauty… fetishes… etc. It all fall under fantasy:

fan·ta·sy

ˈfan(t)əsē/

noun

1.

the faculty or activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable.

“his research had moved into the realm of fantasy”

synonyms: imagination, fancy, invention, make-believe; More

In other words, there is no right or wrong when it comes to fantasy. Everyone has their own imagination, everyone is entitled to do as they want in these games, despite what Anita Sarkeesian and her cult following say.

But Jim, don’t you think these skimpy outfits objectify women? I mean that kind of objectification promotes a rape culture and gives women an unrealistic body image.

As opposed to the male armor where the arms are all exposed with muscles that couldn’t possibly be supported by the upper torso? Or what about showing pictures of Chris Hemsworth without his shirt on to a crowd of women on a show typically aimed at the feminist culture?

That’s not the same thing…

Yes it is, and this hypocrisy is why I have ZERO tolerance for 3rd wave feminism. Thus I will not be dealing with those arguments any further in this post. Moving on…

And here I am, pretty much off topic on a tangent. Time to refocus. Skimpy armor… can it be practical? The answer is… it really depends.

One could make the argument that a character that is supposed to be a spy, assassin, or scout should be light on their feet and thus not have a need for heavy armor, which is a fair assessment. However, where is the line?

Please note that I’m speaking on my opinion of realistic practicality in a fantasy universe, if your opinion differs from mine, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments… even if you are completely wrong. ;)

So let’s take a look at my usual companion in Skyrim:

My character, Lia’na, is a takeoff and slight modification (stats, race, textures, etc.) on the character Aranya, by StephieRawx from Nexusmods. So when you first download Aranya, this is the armor she comes in:

It’s… actually not bad for a rogue class warrior. It’s light, kind of gothic in design… yes her legs are fairly bare, but if you’re looking to sneak, that’s probably the best way to do it. So all in all, it seemed like a fairly decent outfit… until you got a closer look at the lower half…

Upon accidentally swimming underneath her during a battle in Windstar, I made a rather… unusual discover. Apparently someone forgot to create underarmor for this getup, because she’s 100% commando. No I will NOT be posting a screenshot.

Now obviously this might not be an issue for some, but in the wintry, Scandinavian-like climates of Skyrim… yeah I don’t know if there’s a female equivalent for shrinkage, but I can’t imagine frozen lady-bits being that much fun.

So again, I wanted an outfit that was appropriate for a rogue and would have been a little more… realistic in terms of the environment. Factoring in that elves tend to have a slightly higher tolerance for cold weather than humans or orcs.

My first outfit replacement choice came to this:

Loose leather pants, an almost pirate esque top and a jacket… Light, but not a lot of protection. Still she’d fit in with the ruffians at each location a little better if she needed to blend in and the outfit definitely screamed rogue. Appropriate or realistic? Eh… maybe in a different climate or pirate adventure. I didn’t stick with it.

Next one up was this one… she dressed in this during the Dawnguard campaign.

Though looking back… it might have been smart to put her in something that protected her neck a little more. Still, this one was definitely pretty good, offering some upper body protection, but not enough to be inhibiting.

Sadly, though I liked that one a lot… It had to change. This is where I currently am:

Decent upper and lower body protection, chain mesh across the chest, gloves, leather padding on the pants… still has a midriff, but it’s passable. Again, not perfect, but not bad either.

So the costume is slightly skimpy around the midsection, but that’s it… To be fair though, I don’t think that this is what people consider all that skimpy or feminist-level objectification… so let’s take a look at a few of the other outfits I’ve seen floating around Nexus…

… … yeah nothing about that screams defensible. The pants look like they could pass, but the top? Some archer would have her heart in seconds.

I see this style over and over in outfits… yeah you’re a warrior trying to be taken seriously, and you’re wearing a thong out in public.

Unless you’re trying to distract your enemy from… something… pretty much anything… what point was I trying to make again?

Ahem!

Yeah I don’t think so.

Um… hmmm… this one isn’t that bad. Though this would more be for a magic wielder than a rogue, and there is STILL the issue of a good archer taking out her heart!

So this one actually isn’t bad, it’s feminine, but not objectifying and it protects everywhere it needs to. My only issue with this is that… SHE’S A ROGUE! This won’t work. I could see her wielding a greatsword, maybe, but two daggers? No!

Anything else?

No, and I’m not even going to bother downloading any of those. Christ, now you’re not even trying!!!

So it looks like the search for cool-looking yet class-appropriate realistically feasible armor is still on. I’m working on my own, but I’ve gotten nowhere with it.

In conclusion, is there a place in the game for skimpy armor? Sure, when it comes to stealth missions, missions where you’re going to get wet, or perhaps a mission where your character is undercover at some kind of brothel or something where they need to attract attention. Otherwise it’s pretty much just fan service.

Now, is there anything wrong with that? No. Again, it’s FANTASY! If you can justify it, or just find it aesthetically pleasing, don’t follow my rules and don’t follow anyone else’s. Go ahead and enjoy it. That’s what fantasy is here for.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

Is Skimpy Armor At All Practical? As an avid gamer and realist who tries his best to find the medium, I've always wondered what the best outfits are for my characters/companions.