#sign one elias and let the other one free... thank god we will have like a million more eliases lined up for the future

[stromer]

my favorite thing about the canucks organization is when you hear a rumor that seems totally, balls off the wall, absurd and impossible... you just know that it WILL be happening. that's a prommy.

[theoreticalli]

tma and unreliable narration

you know in thinking so much about melanie and jon and helen and jon (and to an extent georgie and basira and martin too) I just keep coming back to how good an example of unreliable narration tma is (spoilers thru 160 and for 187, as well as a link to a post abt the finale).

because jon is our pov character, right? for the vast majority of the series, outside of statements, everything we experience is implied to be through his perspective. we start out with him and him alone, we return to him again and again-- alone in the tunnels, alone in America, alone after the Unknowing, alone as the apocalypse swirls around him. we let him entrust us, an unseen confidante, with things he won’t tell anyone else. we are intimately familiar with his experiences and his personality, and we see every little moment of development he goes through. we spend so much time with him.

but jon... is wrong sometimes. like, objectively, we know that. his paranoia spiral in s2 is the first major indicator that this character, who is functionally our narrator, is not objective. he makes decisions based on prior experiences and the information he has and assumptions from both, like we all do. it’s just good character building! it makes him feel more real if he’s wrong sometimes, if he has flaws and blind spots!

and sometimes he is wrong. the most signposted and indisputable moment is the web table, when he just straight-up puts the clues together and comes to the wrong conclusion, or when he spends a whole season being suspicious of tim and martin (and elias) when not!sasha’s right there. basically, He Is Not Immune To Propaganda

so that’s our sign that this is not the kind of character who is always or even usually Objectively right or in the right. he’s not frequently outright wrong, either, but his view of things is always limited, and the other characters are carefully placed to be foils to his perspective, to highlight things he isn’t thinking about or illustrate contrasts or just other opinions. again, It’s Good Character Building! it’s smart writing to have all your characters exist first and foremost as bundles of principles and priorities informed by certain key backstory events, because then you can rely on that to figure out how they’ll react to any given situation, and personalities and quirks tend to fall into place from there. my brain is not moving on the frequency to illustrate exactly what all these foils are right now but I’m sure there’s other posts about that so moving on

most of jon’s conflicts with his allies are not because either of them are wrong, but because they each have distinct and conflicting perspectives. and there’s some posts I see that just... frustrate me because they only take into consideration the context for jon’s actions, and don’t extend the same analysis to any other characters involved. there’s no thought put into why georgie might feel the need to draw the boundaries she does, why melanie goes off on jon at the specific times she does, or god forbid when either of them try to reconcile with him at various points. jon is sympathetic to us as the audience in his shoes, but the actions he takes don’t always have positive effects on those around him in the same way that other people severely hurt him without really meaning to. really, my first reaction to posts like these is always to want to just point out 5 different moments of context that show that most of jon’s allies are never being malicious to him because they’re bad people, or heartless. they have their reasons, and are not being cruel for cruelty’s sake like many of the avatars. they aren’t required to agree with him to still be taken in good faith.

(I have a post about this wrt the end of s5 that I’ll link here to make this stay mostly spoiler free so feel free to go read that but anyways)

and there’s also the things jon directly says about other characters, which again, should not always be taken at face value! and this bit is partly a personal grievance with the way helen’s arc ended, so ymmv, but I think that leaving the exact nature of the distortion (esp how it meshes with its host of sorts) more vague is much more effective in terms of her function in the story. so to my interpretation, even though jon says a lot of things about what the distortion is, that doesn’t necessarily mean any of them are entirely accurate! that’s a point helen made repeatedly, and her role as a foil is to make it clear that the truth is never one thing, no matter how the eye likes to pretend it can find objective reality. she wiggles her way out of the liar’s paradox because reality is complicated, and there are many statements that lie in that grey area between true and false while still sounding very sure. so even though jon states a lot of things in a very certain tone, that doesn’t mean any of them reflect the nature of the distortion any more than anything helen said before. it’s just one more piece of information to put together with everything we’ve seen about the character’s words and actions up to that point and come to our own conclusion!

to me, that’s a much more fun and interesting way of engaging with this story than only looking at things through jon’s pov and taking the things he says without a grain of salt, and I think jonny’s done a really good job of having a lot of characters with specific traits and clear histories that pretty consistently inform how they engage with any given situation. of course, there’s a lot of characters and a lot of extrapolations one can make, especially for more minor or intentionally mysterious characters, so there’s no one right way of understanding a given person. but it’s fun to mess around with, to discover new bits that you’d forgotten about that inform your interpretations, to fill in the gaps.

that’s all no I will not shut up about melanie king if you read this far thank you so much you have my affection and pls reblog w your thoughts!! xoxo

[smallmediumproblems]

The first sign that Jon’s plan was working was the sunlight. It was thin, cloudy, London sunlight, but it was the second-most beautiful thing he’d seen in his entire life. He let it wash over him along with the sounds of the city. The passing cars and babble of tourists and, god, just the sound of people being happy. The second sign was that he had no idea what day it was. He reached for the information from something beyond himself, but it was like trying to flex wings that he didn’t have. He was blissfully alone in his head. The Eye was gone. As he glanced down at himself, he found that the rest of the fear had gone with it. The scar on his hand rested stubbornly on the surface of his skin and went no deeper. The rest were the same.

The third sign was that he was able to hail a cab from Hilltop Road to Millbank. He didn’t think he could handle being underground just yet, and it gave him an excuse to have a conversation. Any conversation. Yes, he did live in London. From Kilbride, is that so? He’d spent his honeymoon up North (sort of), lovely place. Spectacular cows. He was here on business, actually, since he supposed he didn’t work where he was going anymore. Damned glad to be free of the place. Why, yes, Jon thought so too- a job was really all about the people. The people had always been good.

The Magnus Institute was as squat and imposing as he remembered it. Perhaps it was Jon’s imagination, but it looked smaller than when he’d last seen it. The shadows clung a little closer, shying away from his flimsy sunlight. He could almost hear Tim and Sasha arguing inside, could picture the way they smiled and laughed at each other. Martin would be…

No. No, he couldn’t think about that, that was a sacrifice he had already decided to make. It’s not like Martin would know, anyway.

“Sir?” Rosie’s voice stopped him from heading straight down to the Archives. He pulled to a halt, taking a second to bask in the normalcy of it. “Can I help you?”

“Err, yes,” he stammered, “Hello. I’m- I’m here to see the Archivist?”

“He’s got a visitor right now, but...” Rosie informed him. She glanced down towards the stairwell, and returned her attention to Jon with a sympathetic half-smile. “You’re here for a statement? Why don’t you wait downstairs. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

It had been too much to hope that Gertrude was still alive. Apparently, it had been too much to hope for Sasha to be her successor, either. Tim, maybe? He’d been marked by the Stranger, something Elias would surely have noticed and took advantage of. He thanked Rosie, and as he made his way downstairs, a very different argument than what he’d been expecting drifted up through the walls.

“...got time for this. I don’t know how to make that any more clear. I don’t care.”

“That’s just what I love about our conversations.”

The doors were closed. All except for his own at the end of the hall. Tentatively, Jon knocked on Tim’s office door. No answer. Then Sasha. Then Martin. Nothing. Even the break room was silent.

“Look, even if I didn’t think you were a waste of my time, I’m already spoken for. What you’re talking about just isn’t possible. Not after what happened.”

“Can you really know that?”

Jon rounded the corner to see Martin sitting at his desk, just in time to hear him let out a laugh that was far too sharp and far too dark.

“Knowing’s what I do,” said Martin Blackwood, the Archivist. “That, and babysitting, since you’re still-”

Martin’s eyes lit up very abruptly, and he leaned around Peter Lukas to look at Jon. “Jonathan! Come in, we were just finishing up.”

There was a moment of vertigo as Jon realized that Martin didn’t actually recognize him. He just Knew him. He felt an uncomfortable pressure at the back of his neck, as though something had grabbed hold of him to keep him from struggling.

Martin’s attention flickered briefly back to Peter, the stark annoyance returning to his voice. “Leave. I’d tell you to come back later, but honestly, don’t.”

“Same time tomorrow, then,” said Peter. He nodded cheerfully at Jon on his way out, and Martin rounded the desk to greet him.

“Here for a statement?” Martin asked eagerly. “Please, sit down, I’ll get you some tea.”

Jon nodded and collapsed faintly into the guest chair. Martin had apparently moved the entire tea station into his office, and opened a storage cabinet in the corner to reveal an electric kettle next to a mismatched selection of boxes and loose paper packets. Without so much as a look backwards, he began making a cup exactly the way Jon liked it, as well as one for himself. He even used Jon's favorite cat mug. Jon wondered if Martin Knew he liked it specifically because it was the one Martin always used to bring him.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Martin said idly. “Office politics, you know. Doesn’t even work here, and he thinks he can waltz right in and give me more stuff to do.”

“I can imagine,” said Jon. “Isn’t there anyone else to help you?”

Martin laughed again, that light little chirp that he reserved for when something was wrong and he didn’t want to talk about it. “Just me. I’ve got some assistants, somewhere, but they’re kept nice and busy.”

He turned to face Jon as he spoke, and the effect was perhaps less reassuring than he’d intended. For the first time in years, Jon was reminded that Martin's demeanor was the only thing stopping him from being intimidating as well as just very big. He looked older than he should have been. Jon had never seen him loom before, but he was proving to be quite good at it. There was a scar across his left jaw, two parallel lines that could have been from claws. His smile was, inexplicably, the same as ever, which almost made the whole picture worse. It was still more beautiful than the sunlight outside. His eyes went startlingly glassy for a moment, and he looked surprised at something.

“Wow. You’ve got quite a story, haven’t you?” he commented.

“I’m much more interested in yours,” said Jon. Martin sighed.

“Of course you are,” he said. “What is it this time... You know, I can't get a clear look at you, that's funny. Are you from the Spiral? You don’t reeeeally strike me as the spidery type.”

“No, I’m- I’m human,” said Jon. “I’m not here for the Archivist, Martin. I came to find you.”

Martin’s smile withered away into an almost childish dissatisfaction. He didn't tense up, or seem particularly more ready to deal with any impending danger. It was with an uneasy sinking feeling that Jon understood this was because his guard had been raised the whole time. Jon had been a threat from the moment he walked in the door. Martin was just sure he could deal with whatever that threat was.

“Cool," he said tersely, "Love it when strangers know who I am. Let's start from the top. Who exactly are you?"

"I'm Jon. Jonathan Sims," Jon answered, his whole being laid out precisely by the question. He could not help but feel a little thrill of joy at not being anything else. "I suppose I’m not anybody. I’m from a different world, one that I, ah… Kind of mucked up. I came here because I thought it would be better off without me."

Martin frowned.

He smiled.

He laughed, and it was as cold and terrible as before.

"Alright," he said. "That’s, um. Total nonsense. First things first-"

Martin turned to retrieve the tea and slid Jon's cup across the table to him. He even gave him a coaster.

"We're going to play a game," Martin said pleasantly. "Here's how it goes: I'm going to pop your head open like an advent calendar, and if I don't like what I find, I get to eat all the little chocolates inside. Now might be a good time to leave if that doesn't sound like a fun game to you."

"And abandon my tea?" Jon said, aghast. Martin lifted his cup, and they clinked glasses. From the look in Martin's eyes, they might as well have been crossing swords.

"Alright then!" said Martin. "Let's have that statement, Mr Jonathan Sims who isn’t anybody. The very first one. About how you worked here."

And with that, the whole world fell away, an excruciating practice in focus and captivity. Jon had expected it to feel like being in a spotlight. Perhaps like performing to a massive, leering audience. This was more personal. This was an exam that he'd spent his whole life studying for and not absorbed a single piece of worthwhile information towards. An essay prompt that he was brimming with words to answer, but could never have enough time to do it justice.

"Well, I was the Archivist," he started, taking a sip of his tea. "I was good at it. Not at first, of course. I wasn't a good anything, at first. I had some assistants who tolerated me. There was Sasha. And Tim. And you. I managed to ruin everything almost immediately, for everyone. I let Sasha die. Didn't even notice when it happened. Then, I brought Tim with me on a dangerous mission, knowing he would die too, which he did. I made your life hell, and the moment things started to change for the better, I left you.

"All while I was ruining people's lives, I continued to be a good Archivist. And an Archivist is only good for one thing. I brought ruin to everything around me one final time. An irrevocable ruin. So deep and terrible that reality shifted in the image of my abject failure. Then, when I could no longer stand to live in that world, I left you one last time. I removed myself - and my failure - from reality. And now, I'm here."

There was a heavy creak as Martin leaned back against his tea cabinet. He had looked calm, almost comfortable until that moment, and Jon remembered the way that statements tended to bottle up your emotions until they were finished if you weren't careful. Martin’s face had gone pale. At what in particular, Jon couldn't begin to guess. He could feel very keenly what Martin had seen - the litany of horrors that Jon had committed against the world, culminating in one final terror that never ceased and had no bounds. He couldn’t know what it meant to Martin, though. There was a haze growing around his memories of the apocalypse, like a nightmare his body was trying to wash away.

"You came back," Martin finished for him.

"I suppose I did," said Jon. "Martin, what happened to everyone?"

"Gone," Martin said faintly. He removed himself from the cabinet and came forward to lean on his chair instead. "They're all… dead, Jon, why did… it's just me. It's been me for so long."

That couldn’t be right. Jon was the reason they died, they should have been just fine without him.

"What about Melanie? Daisy, or Basira?" he insisted, "Or Helen, is Helen still here?"

"Helen’s gone," said Martin, "Died in the accident with Sasha. Michael left after that, too. I wasn’t supposed to be the Archivist, you know? Everyone knew that. Sasha’s the one who took over for Gertrude. After Tim got replaced by that… thing, she just… She didn't come back from the circus. I think she knew better. When Elias offered me the job, I thought- I couldn't stop thinking, if I say no, if he gets someone else, am I going to have to watch them die, too?"

"Martin, I'm so sorry," was all Jon could think to say. "I thought I could save them. If I'd just left well enough alone, if I hadn't been there, I thought that would be enough. This was my fault, all of it was meant to go away without me. I was just trying to fix what I’d done."

“And what did you do to me, huh?” asked Martin. “You said you killed everyone else.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Tell me what you did,” asked the Archivist.

“I loved you,” said Jon.

Again, he was unraveled for examination. It spared him the messy process of having to examine his feelings, but it meant that Martin was forced to go through it instead. Martin took a deep breath in and out, as though struggling to press back some reaction. Whatever he’d been through in Jon’s absence, it let him keep his expressions startlingly neutral.

“And what do you mean to do now?” he pressed.

“I suppose I’ll still love you,” said Jon. “And hope that that’s enough.”

Martin got very quiet. He started to say something, and stopped short. Thought of something better to say, then decided against that one as well. Jon momentarily wished that he could get inside his head one last time.

“What else do you do?” he finally asked.

“Mostly, I make extremely reckless decisions,” Jon admitted.

Martin considered this.

“I can work with that,” he decided, “You’re kind of from the future, right?”

“That’s not-”

“What can you tell me about the Fears?” Martin cut him off. There was a gleam in his eye that Jon recognized as the first inkling of a plan. It made Jon’s heart melt.

“Um, right. So, you’ve got Smirke’s fourteen, that’s obvious.”

“Obviously.”

“Did you talk to Leitner?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Ugh. I haven’t seen him since he cleared out that Hunter last year. He still won’t come out of the tunnels, he’s convinced Elias is going to lop his head off.”

“He’s alive?” Jon exclaimed.

“I mean, I guess,” said Martin, not sounding too worried. “Seemed like he had things sorted.”

“He wasn’t far off the mark about Elias,” Jon said nervously.

“Yeeeah, I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Martin. “I keep him locked in a storage closet.”

This was so far outside the realm of Jon’s imagination that he actually took a moment to picture it. It was a pleasant moment.

“...and that works?” he asked.

“Sort of,” Martin shrugged. “I throw him an evil artifact once and a while to keep him busy. Took him ages to get out of that haunted coffin thing.”

“God, you’re amazing,” Jon muttered under his breath, “Err, what about Gerry?”

“How d’you think I got this?” said Martin, tracing a knuckle over the claw mark that tugged at his smug little half-smile.

Jon got the distinct feeling that they were competing at something. More importantly, Martin seemed to be winning. The tea was abandoned, pouring the last of its warmth uselessly into the air. There was a tension between them that Jon hadn’t felt since the first time they’d met. The rules for that interaction were impersonal, neutral and only tenuously agreed-upon, full of boundaries that needed pushing and limits to test. Technically speaking, they were meeting for the first time again, which meant that the same rules applied here. That memory forced a realization into Jon’s head with all the grace and delicacy of a burning freight train.

Martin wasn’t trying to beat him at anything. He was trying to impress him.

“C’mon, future guy,” said Martin, with an impatience that was clearly feigned. “Give me something useful.”

“You never mentioned what happened to Melanie,” Jon shot back.

“Melanie King,” Martin mulled over, “She came in with a statement, then she dragged Sasha off to India looking for ghosts. Sasha came back with a bullet hole in her back. Melanie joined a podcast.”

“Thank god,” Jon breathed a sigh of relief.

“Um, no?” said Martin, eyes wide. “Sasha got shot.”

“No, but- But Melanie’s fine,” Jon explained. “Honestly, I’ll take what I can get, at this point.”

Martin smirked. “Keep going.”

“Daisy and Basira.”

“They are a pair of law officers,” Martin said contemplatively, drawing the information from thin air. Jon noticed that he tilted his head up slightly whenever he Beheld something, craning his neck to get a better look. He wondered if he’d had any sort of tells like that. Martin could probably tell him. “One of whom just got probation for murdering someone. Again. Is that supposed to mean something?”

“I suppose not,” said Jon, “And you know about the rituals?”

“No, Jon, I don’t know about the rituals I’ve lost most of my friends to trying to stop in the past year,” said Martin.

“Do you know they don’t work?”

This gave Martin pause.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“I mean, they don’t work,” Jon repeated. “The rituals are doomed to fail. It’s impossible to bring any one fear into the world on its own.”

“Which means that… I haven’t lost everyone trying to stop the end of the world.” Martin’s voice had started to shake. “I’ve lost everyone for… absolutely nothing.”

“There’s something else,” Jon said sharply. This was a crisis that did need dealing with, but not here or now. “One of them does work, one that you’re in a uniquely good position to stop. Your own.”

Martin pulled out the meaning of this remarkably quickly. That, or he just pulled the answer from Jon’s head. “The Archivist is a ritual,” he proposed.

“Exactly,” said Jon. “Your role is to collect the fears. All of them. They can’t be brought in one at a time, but all at once is a different matter.”

“So, no Archivist, no ritual?” Martin said quietly.

“No!” Jon cried, “That’s what I tried to do. Didn’t exactly work out. I think there’s always an Archivist. All we can do is postpone it. Gertrude did the best she could, but she didn’t tell anyone who could have carried on for her.”

“And then she died,” said Martin.

“Yes, but she also lived,” said Jon. “Right now, I think that’s the best possible thing you can do.”

“Let’s- Let me just unpack this, so you know how insane this sounds,” said Martin. “This guy I’ve never met before - who apparently loves me literally more than sunlight, don’t think I didn’t catch that - waltzes in and tells me that the solution to all my problems is just living my best life.”

Jon smiled, finally breaking the tension to take a sip of tea. “In all fairness, the sun does rather pale in comparison to you.”

Martin laughed again. This time it had just a hint of the warmth that Jon longed to see in him.

“Well. You promised you’d find me when you came back,” said Martin. “How’s that working out for you?”

Jon nearly choked on his drink. He had in fact been trying not to think about the last time he’d seen the other Martin - his Martin, who stood through the end of the world with him. He’d been trying to think of everything except the last words they’d said to each other, the last time they’d touched, the last time they would see each other again.

“You remember?” he spluttered.

“I know,” Martin corrected him, although he seemed unsure himself. “That’s different from remembering. It didn’t happen to me. It happened to someone else, who was me, who… And, and I don’t… I mean, I could. Couldn’t I?”

“Martin, I can’t read minds anymore,” Jon reminded him.

“I don’t love you,” Martin insisted. This seemed to distress him more than anything he’d pulled from Jon’s mind. “Not like he did. I don’t know how. You came all this way, and I’ve got no idea how to be the person you came looking for.”

“I know,” Jon said warmly. “I didn’t come here expecting you to. I came back to keep my promise. And I came back to help however I could.”

Martin nodded. “D’you think we could start with that whole ‘living’ thing?”

“I can’t say I’m the best at it,” said Jon, “But for you, I’ll try.”

[lunartearrose]

Timsasha pleas (you know who this is)

OH HECK YES listen the moment u said timsasha i IMMEDDIATELY knew what i wanted to do so like. prepare for incoming angst and an alt timeline!

read it on ao3 here!

it got super long but also here it is under the cut!

Squish squish squish. 

Tim did his best to ignore the disgusting sounds of worm death under his feet as he ran to find a safe place. The best thing he could find for defense in case of more worm infested zombies was a flag pole with a rather sharp end - a fairly poor excuse for a weapon, but he figured it could at least leave a gross, corruption-ridden fleshbag confused enough for him to run more. And dear god, he hopes not to run into Jane again…

Before he knows it, he sees a sign dangling over a door up ahead, reading “Artifact storage.”

‘Oh that’s just great.’ Tim thought. It was the last place he’d ever want to hide in, but nonetheless he ran right in.

 It seems the worms weren’t daring enough to come in, but he heard someone walking deeper in the corridors of cursed objects. Steeling his nerves, and keeping that flagpole handy, Tim walks further into the cramped darkness. He kept careful eyes on his surroundings, keeping his eyes on everything he could, while avoiding brushing up against the things that sit in this space. He wonders what made it tough to hear what was ahead… was it the echo?

“I see you!” a familiar voice echoes around him, sounding close. 

He’d know her anywhere. It was Sasha. He picks up the pace, not caring what his weapon of poor choice brushes up against, just wanting to see a familiar face in this madness.

“I see you.” a… voice calls. It felt familiar. But it felt so wrong.

He rounds the corner as a struggle begins. The sight before him was nothing short of a nightmare to look at. Whatever was happening instantly caused a migraine to look at - but something deep inside him refused to let him shut his eyes. He felt like whatever this was had simply been another monster attacking, and he knew Sasha was in trouble. Between the bright, pulsing colors and hands gripping the person in front of him - no - people in front of him? There were two. But one of them was Sasha. He was so sure. They were fighting… and he had to act fast-

“SASHA!” Tim calls out for his trusted friend.

“Tim!” two voices call out, one a bit delayed. The image of both the struggling people flickers and ripples, as if reality just couldn’t handle the two existing at once.

But he saw what he needed to see. One figure’s reality seemed to twitch, spasming into elongated limbs and crooked features covered in frayed cobwebs. Tim didn’t need to think twice, and ran forward, plunging the sharp end into the figure that did the awful twitching. The sound it made was like that of plunging it both into a body and a foam square, strange but sickening all the same, as he shouldn’t have been able to just pierce it like that. The creature takes its hands off Sasha, whom he was now a hundred percent sure was her, and grips the end of that flagpole. 

“A brave one, aren’t you?” the warbling voice growls at him, now unsure of who’s form it wants to take. Who’s life does it wish to steal now?

Tim gives the pole one last quick thrust before abandoning it and picking up his injured friend. With Sasha in his arms, he runs like hell as the half finished monster gives chase, howling with laughter

“C’mon! That really hurt, you know! If you drop her then I might just spare you!” it shouts at him. 

“Fuck off!” Tim retaliates, and suddenly he feels like he’s losing his breath as the monster repeats his words and catches up dramatically.

“Such a coward! Always running away!” they mock, but it’s too late. 

Wise to the trick, Tim doesn’t respond, forcing himself to run faster. He’s aching, feeling the scrape of sharp claws that almost caught up, but he keeps going. This isn’t just his life at stake...

Tim doesn’t dare to look back, praying to reach a door, not even bothering to note the out of place yellow of the door he busted through. He ran, and ran, and ran, his surroundings a blur, until the adrenaline finally begins to ebb. His running slowed, his legs shook, heart pounding as he does his best not to fall, placing Sasha’s unconscious body on the shifting floor. He wasn’t sure if the need to cough or vomit was worse.

The entity that so kindly let them in and let the monster lose itself watches on, wondering what Tim will notice first. The answer soon comes as he looks over the girl he was carrying, a girl the distortion knew had a name. Once. They watch as Tim swears and fusses over the scratches on her chest, trying to use whatever he had on hand to slow the bleeding, noting the especially strange wound over one of her eyes, that traveled down her cheek and into her hair, still looking as if it were a glitch in reality itself. 

“Sasha! Sasha, stay with me, please…” Tim says to her.

And soon, with enough shaking and pleading, this Sasha girl opened her eyes. She struggled to sit, and Tim helps her, keeping the pressure on her chest wound. 

“Tim…” she mutters softly, “I…”

“Thank god, you’re awake… how do you feel?” he asks.

“Pain…” she answers softly, “Please… get help…” 

“Right, of course.” he says, finally taking a good look around him, “We’ll- ...oh.” 

This gets a chuckle out of the distortion avatar. The two look back at him, and Sasha whines in fear while Tim scooches away from him as fast as possible, not letting go of his dear friend for even a moment.

“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” Tim says.

Michael humms for a moment. “Well… you dragged in a fine meal a little while ago. I suppose I can let you leave just this once…”

“Great! How do we leave?” Tim says, suddenly finding the strength to stand whilst holding Sasha.

“Just keep walking.” Michael replies, pointing in another direction, “You’ll find an exit eventually.”

“Thanks dude. Would love to stay and chat but we need a hospital.” Tim says, running off the way he was told to go.

Once again, Michael simply chuckles to himself, and walks off to find out if the Archivist was faring any better.

…

Tim and Sasha were let out at the front of the institute, where police and ambulances had arrived. Sasha had to be taken to the hospital, and Tim never left her side. Thankfully, her vitals were still intact and all she needed was some stitches and something to help the pain. As for the strange wound over her right eye, it was certainly addressed, but the doctors soon found messing with it both caused Sasha pain and caused strange, unfavorable things to happen. The best they could do is give her an eye patch, and let it rest. Only when she could stay awake would Tim allow them to treat the scratch on his back. He didn’t want to leave her side, and she really didn’t want to be left alone. 

Once Tim was patched, he sat back down in the chair pulled up by Sasha’s hospital bed. “How you feeling?” he asks her.

“I’m feeling like an idiot for yelling ‘I see you’ at a monster, for one thing. Other than that, I’m at least not hurting too badly. How about you?” Sasha replies.

“I feel the very same way for not looking where I was running. I really thought we were dead in that moment…” Tim answers.

“Yeah. I thought that too… but we’re safe now, at least.” Sasha says.

She quietly reaches for Tim’s hand and holds it. Tim gives her hand a gentle squeeze in response, watching as she glances out the nearby window.

“I… really thought that was it for me, when that thing grabbed me. I’m glad you came around when you did.” She says.

“I’m glad, too. Really, I don’t know what I’d do if you ended up dead…” Tim replies.

“What was going through your head?” Sasha asks.

“A lot! It was confusing for a while, I don’t know exactly what I was looking at, but… definitely in the end, if that other guy hadn’t let you out at least, I was just afraid we’d never get to see each other again. And really couldn’t handle that thought. I think a lot of what drove me was keeping you alive.” Tim replies.

There was a bit of a pause. She squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back in turn. It was a bit difficult to have the right words to say to something like that.

“I think we both need a vacation after that mess.” Sasha says. 

“I agree. I think everyone’s going to need a break after hell broke loose…” Tim replies.

“Yeah… you think we could go somewhere together?” Sasha asks.

“...Like as a group of assistants or…?”

“No. Just you and I. I could use a really long one, and like hell I’ll take it alone with the week I’ve been having.”

The idea of a vacation with Sasha really made Tim happy. He couldn’t ask for anything better than that, and he honestly didn’t want to leave Sasha’s side either. Even if they got to escape that hell dimension, there was no guarantee that the entity of bullshit squiggles didn’t let the monster out too. 

“I’d be glad to join you, Sasha. Let’s hope Elias gives us a nice, long break.” Tim says.

Sasha nods. “Let’s hope.”

After that, they fell into another little moment of silence. Sasha listened to the little commercial playing on the tv, eye wandering around the room. Each time someone walked by outside the door, she couldn’t help but feel a bit tense. She tried to take her mind off that unease, focusing on the tv, and the warmth of Tim’s hand. She’s fond of how he’s always there for her, especially now.

“Hey Sasha?” Tim says.

“Yeah?” She replies.

“I… I think I want to tell you something.” 

“Alright then. What is it?”

“Well… this whole experience made me think-”

Unfortunately, Tim doesn’t get to finish his sentence. A Nurse opened the door, explaining that someone was looking for Tim. Tim sighs, and tells her to send them in here. The Nurse nods, and soon after she leaves, Martin enters.

“Hey Tim! I was looking all over for- o-oh.” Martin says.

Tim gives a short wave with his free hand, and so does Sasha. He asks, “What’s the matter?”

“I didn’t realize you were visiting someone, that’s what!” Martin replies, then glances over at Sasha and says, “I’m sorry for barging in, ma’am…” 

Sasha snickers. “Ma’am?”

Tim scoffs, “You don’t need to be so formal with Sasha, Martin. We’re all coworkers here.” 

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize. N-nice to meet you, Sasha! Um, what department do you work in?” Martin asks.

Now, it’s very apparent that something’s wrong. Both Tim and Sasha are now starting to get very worried.

“You’re joking, right?” Tim says.

“Martin we work in the same department! The three of us are Jon’s assistants!” Sasha says.

“What? Thats- no, that’s impossible!” Martin says, clearly confused, “It’s only ever been the two of us helping Jon out, just Tim and I. Elias is still searching for a third…” 

“That’s not true, though! Don’t you remember Jon’s birthday? We brought him a cake, scared the hell out of him? Martin, you have to be joking…” Sasha says.

“No, I- I’m sure I’d remember if you were there… you guys arent joking, are you?” Martin says.

“Look, I have proof she works with us!” Tim says, taking his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll find a picture of the four of us, I know I took one recently.” 

But try as he might, after several painful minutes of searching his phone, he came up empty. Determined to be right, because hell, maybe that monster just screwed with the memory of those in the institute, Tim marches over to the nurse and asks if she can get ahold of Sasha’s medical records. If there’s anything you can’t argue with, it’s records.

But according to their records, Sasha James didn’t exist.

The only one who ever knew she existed was Tim.

[kalgalen]

31 jm

I started this before this week’s ep but boy did it give me more fodder

Tell me a nice memory.

Cutting off a part of himself was never going to be easy.

It’s not literal, this time, but it isn’t any less painful. He’s attempting to destroy that which brought him back to life once before, and the process feels like dying all over again - but slowly, this time, as shreds of himself are torn away by the cruel talons of a god that doesn’t give anything for free. The Powers don’t look kindly on the ones who chose to reject them, especially when they’ve embraced them so thoroughly in the past. The Eye will take and take until it’s got everything it has ever given him back, and does not care if everything that’s left once the Archivist is gone is an empty shell.

It’s a choice Jon had to make, though, after the world had not ended. He couldn’t justify keeping his status, after everything they’ve been through; the monster wasn’t needed anymore. Perhaps dying would have been simpler then - and he’d tasted the same thing in Melanie’s thoughts and side glances: we should just kill him.

But Martin had caught it too, and he had taken a sidestep closer to Jon, and glared at Melanie with such ferocious protectiveness Jon had felt his knees weaken.

And so he’s giving up on the monstrous part of himself. It feels like painstakingly picking shards of glass out of an old wound, like rooting out ivy from the old tree it’s keeping together. They’ve locked him in Elias’s old office; it isn’t the most agreeable place to spend his days and nights in, but it’s got a couch that’s comfortable enough, and the others can check on him regularly. They bring him food, as well as books to keep him distracted, but it’s like being offered vegetable scraps when what he craves is a five-courses meal. 

Daisy and Basira visit quite often, together or on their own, for mindless chatter - or companionable silence, as they each settle with a book and read quietly for a few hours. Melanie doesn’t come unless she’s on meal duty, and he supposes he should be grateful she agrees to do that at all. She seems to be warming up to him, though; he doubts she’ll ever go as far as calling him a friend, but she sticks around for a bit, once, and tells him Georgie has been asking about him.

“And… what did you tell her?” he had tentatively asked, voice rough with disuse. Melanie had shrugged.

“I said you were trying.”

Which is probably the most charitable way to describe his situation. There’s not much he can actually do to help with the withdrawal process; he can only hold for dear life when the deprivation hits him badly, and hope he won’t wake up outside of the Institute with several more victims on his conscience - and in his dreams.

The nightmares have never been a fun part of his night, but now, as he loses the favor of the Beholding, they are even less so. He stops being a silent witnesses, living instead through the terrors that happened to other people. Buried, hunted, haunted; he wakes up choking on a scream more than once, spending the rest of the night with all the lights turned on and his back to the wall.

He feels lonely. No one asks how he’s doing in that fight against himself; the memory of the things he’s done is still too raw for them to pity him the way they would a human being. It’s unfair, and it hurts, and he hopes he can earn their forgiveness some day; in the meantime, he can only pretend he does not care when they find him huddled in a corner after a particularly bad attack, skin marred with bloody grooves and cheeks still wet with tears.

Jon misses Martin.

Martin visits a couple of times a week, mostly to bring him food, sometimes to tell him news from the outside. Jon shouldn’t miss him; but even if they’ve won, even now that the distance isn’t necessary anymore, he can’t help but feel like Martin’s avoiding him. He’s avoiding his gaze, for sure - though Jon can’t blame him for this. Martin talks about the weather as if it’s the prelude for something bigger and more important, but then tells Jon to have a good day and disappears. Their meetings are a frustrating ballet of silent apologies and unsaid confessions.

Jon misses Martin.

He knows Martin is fighting battles on his own. On some days - the bad ones, when his Sight is particularly strong - he can still catch glimpses of the fog stuck to the sole of Martin’s shoes, or the gossamer threads of silk caught between his fingers - or the inhuman spark in his eyes, hungry and curious, mirroring Jon’s own. And it feels - silly, and counterproductive, to avoid addressing their common struggle as an attempt to normalcy. What they save in shared awkwardness they suffer in private anguish.

This is no way to heal.

When Jon finally decides to break the ice, it’s more out of necessity than thanks to a spark of bravery. He’s not been having a good day; the Archives are calling to him, promising knowledge and power and relief, and he’s backed himself into a corner of the couch, frowning deeply at the book in his hands. He’s been reading the same paragraph over and over again, unable to focus on the lines; he hungers for more than empty words.

He jumps when the key turns in the lock, but slightly relaxes when Martin slips through, holding a tray.

“Hey,” Martin says, careful.

“Hi,” answers Jon. He closes the book, not bothering to hold it at the right page, and watches as Martin deposit the tray on Elias’ desk.

Martin shuffles in place, uncomfortable but unwilling to leave so soon; Jon finds himself smiling - longing.

“So. How was your…day?” Martin asks, putting on an interested face.

Jon chuckles, makes a show to think about it for a second.

“Oh, you know. Been doing some light reading, mostly? Not much else to do around.”

Martin winces. “Right.” He doesn’t let the short answer stop him, though. “Is it any good?”

Jon looks down on the ornate leather cover. He’s actually not even sure what it is about at all. He shrugs.

“Hard to tell. Did you know there still are two different letters from Adelard Dekker down in the Archives?”

Martin’s optimistic attitude doesn’t withstand this particular blow; he sighs, leans his hip against the desk as he crosses his arms. He’s deadly serious, suddenly, and Jon is reminded once again of how much he’s changed.

“You know you can’t ever see those, right?”

Jon slumps, feeling like a chided child.

“Right. Of course, I know. But I also know they’re here, and I want -” He cuts himself with a frustrated sign. He knows he has to take responsibility for his actions, but the yearning that lives in his chest isn’t his. Not entirely. “It wants to know, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and I swear I’ve been trying -”

The last few words are lost as he chokes on a sob. He swallows hard, tries to blink frustrated tears from his eyes as he looks away. He feels pitiful - the miserable shell of a man, about to crumple on itself if he doesn’t find anything else to fill him soon.

The couch dips when Martin sits next to him, and it takes all of Jon’s frayed will not to shuffle closer to his heat, both metaphorical and literal.

On his lap, Martin’s fingers are fiddling with the fabric of his pants; his hesitation is almost palpable in the silence of the office. Jon can taste his decisiveness on his tongue a split second before he speaks up:

“Alright, come here.”

Jon looks at him, bewildered. Martin has opened his arms for a hug and is staring at him expectantly, resolution in the slope of his eyebrow but apprehension in the set of his mouth. It takes a beat more for Jon to understand what he means, and that he means it, and then he’s closing the distance between them and letting himself being wrapped in an embrace that instantly loosen the knot in his throat.

It occurs to him he’s never hugged Martin before. Slowly, his movements jerky and unsure, he raises his arms - closes them around Martin’s middle and lets his face fall into the crook of Martin’s neck, breathing in deeply.

“You - are you alright, Jon?” Martin asks after a moment. “Or rather, is there anything I can do to help?”

One of his hands has started rubbing soothingly the back of Jon’s head, and with each scrape of fingers in his hair his mind strays further from the hunger in his chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he mumbles into Martin’s collar.

“I’ll - I can stay with you for a bit. Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Martin hums and keeps petting him, and the tension Jon has been feeling for so long starts to fade. He closes his eyes.

“Do you mind if we - This isn’t the best position,” Martin says, half-pulling away. Jon is confused until he understands what Martin in trying to do. They rearrange themselves until they’re sitting side by side, Jon’s head on Martin’s shoulder, Martin’s fingers still running through Jon’s hair.

“Not that I’m complaining about what we’re doing right now,” Martin chuckles, “but is there anything else I can do?”

“I -” Jon hesitates. There’s an idea forming in his mind, something that might satisfy his hunger without having him giving up on his control. A parody of a statement, something for himself instead of for the Eye. He licks his lips, but in nervousness more that anticipation. “I don’t think I know you well yet, and I think it’s a shame, because we - because I, uh,” missed you love you want you to stay here with me for as long as possible, “care about you, you know? So I was thinking - can you tell me about yourself?”

Martin blinks at him in surprise, then squints.

“This isn’t - like, Beholding-related, right? Because you know I can’t do that.”

“No! Not at all. I just - I truly want to know you. What brings you joy. What makes you happy. That sort of thing. Tell me - tell me a nice memory.”

“A reverse-statement, huh?” Martin smiles, and Jon thinks the sight alone might be enough to bring him back to humanity. “Okay, I can do that. Give me a second.”

Martin thinks for a bit, and Jon closes his eyes again, letting himself enjoy the scrapping of nails against his scalp. When Martin starts speaking again, he is Jon’s only focus.

“So there was that one time, when my dad was still around…”

[writtingrose]

Gym Time

Gym Time

SUMMARY; Drew x Reader x Elias; Reader has been watching them in the gym for weeks. She doesn’t think they’ve noticed, but when they corner her in an empty gym, she learns she’s wrong.

WARNING; Smut. Breeding kink, maybe? Face slapping, ONCE

REQUESTED BY; My self. Discussed with Melissa and Crystal

IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE END

WORD COUNT; 1,834

She couldn’t help but notice then each time they’d been in that week. Always either coming in early or late at night and she couldn’t help but be thankful she happened to be there. Each of them standing over six feet, hair past their shoulders, and bodies to die for; yeah. It was days like that she thanked the stars she owned her own gym.

When she came out of the locker room on Friday, she wasn’t shocked to already see them lifting weights. She couldn’t help but sneak glances as she made her way towards the front desk. With it being just after six am, they were the only three there; meaning she could just watch them for a minute. As she leaned against the counter, she couldn’t help but bite her lip as she watched them. Their muscles straining as they focused on the reps. She licked her lips as she fidgeted a little, trying to get some relief between her legs.

Drew’s eyes didn’t move much but he watched her through the mirror, a slow smirk spreading across his face. They hadn’t said much to her, but they noticed every time her eyes traveled over them. He had really thought she would have made a move by now, or at least say something, but she kept he distance. Preferring, instead, to lust after them from a far. All that changed today, though.

Y/N hummed to herself as she wiped a few pieces of equipment down towards the back. She didn’t hear weights, so she assumed the two had left, giving her a moment to catch her breathe. She found herself leaning back against the bench, her mind wondering to all the possibilities of she would just talk to them. Her hand drifted down over her stomach, slipping into the waist life of her leggings to her core. A small gasp leaves her lip as she presses her thumb to her clit.

Drew and Elias quietly move to stand on both sides of her, cocks tenting in their pants. Y/N whimpered slightly; her eyes screwed shut as she curled a finger into her tight heat. Elias had to bite back a groan as he cupped his crotch, squeezing gently. Drew looked down at him, giving the okay to touch her, let her know they were there.

“Are you enjoyin’ yourself lass?” Drew leaned down to nip her ear, a deep chuckle sounding as she jumps.

Y/N scrambled to pull her hand out of her pants as she looked between them.

“I-I thought you had left.” She swallowed noticeably and tried to get up, Drew’s large hand pushing her back down. “It had gone quiet.”

“You see, darling,” Elias smirks. “Drew here had the idea to make it seem like we’d left. She what ya did before we made our move.”

“Damn good think we did too.” Drew chuckles. “I knew you’d been cheeking us out lass, but this was unexpected.”

She blushes and licks her lips. “I was just-“

“We know what you were doing.” Elias smirks and pulls her up to him, their lips meeting harshly.

Drew chuckles, coming up behind her as he grabs her hips. He ground himself against her, hand sliding into her leggings just as hers had been.

“Tell me, lass, were you thinking of us?” He licks his lips and kisses her neck. “We know you’ve been watching us when we come in, fidgeting but always keeping your distance.”

She pulls away from Elias’ mouth and nods shyly. “I was too shy to say anything to you both.”

He chuckles and wraps one hand in her hand as the other stroked her clit lazily.

“So, you lay back on the equipment and touch you’re self like a whore?” He growls and nibbles her ear.

Y/N gasped as she looked up at him, half disgusted, half turned on. No one had ever talked to her like that before and she didn’t know if she should slap him or drop to her knees. Luckily for her though, they choose for her.

Elias pushes his shorts to the ground, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. She looked between them and the direction of the door, nervous as she licked her lips; hand coming to wrap around his swollen cock.

“Don’t worry lass,” Drew smirks against her neck, gently pinching her clit between his thumb and forefinger. “We locked the door and flipped the sign for you. No one is going to disturb us.”

He gently guided her head towards Elias’ cock, a calloused finger slipping into her soaking entrance. Y/N moans as she opens her mouth. Taking the engorged tip in, she swirls her tongue around, the salty precum coating her mouth. She savours the taste for a second before opening her mouth wider, taking his cock in further. Elias groans as he replaces Drew’s hand with his, the Scotsman moving to his knees in front of her.

Drew gently worked her leggings down and tossed them to the side before pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. Y/N moaned around Elias as he groaned, hand tightening in her hair.

“I think our little whore likes that Drew.” He slowly thrusts into her mouth. “Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Y/N nods slightly as she brings her hand up to cup his balls, fondling them as presses his cock to the back of her throat. Drew looks up at her, watching, growling, before he suddenly sucks her lips into his mouth. Y/N squeals around Elias’ cock as her hips jerk off the bench. Drew smirks, his tongue flicking against her clit quickly as his hands curl around her waist, holding her to his mouth.

“Her fucking mouth is heaven.” Elias groans as he holds her head, thrusting into it roughly. “You’ve got to let her suck you’re cock man.”

Drew licks his lips, finger coming to curl deep inside her, against her gspot.

“Aye, I will. First I’m going to stretch this tight little cunt.”

Y/N arches and bucks, pussy pulsing as her eyes water.

“I think she likes the idea of that.” Drew thrusts his finger faster, finger continuing to assault that magic spot. “Ye want my cock in ye? Fucking you until I fill you with my cum?”

Y/N whined and jerked against him, desperate for more friction. Drew didn’t let her move as he pulled his hand free; sucking her juices off.

“She tastes fantastic mate.” He chuckles and works his shorts down, staking to hover over her. “Even better than we thought she would.”

“I bet she’s going to feel even better.” Elias groans as he licks his lips, his cock jerking against her tongue. “I’m going to cum down her pretty little throat. Make her swallow my cum.”

Drew smirks as he smacks his cock against her clit, earning a moan from her.

“She’ll take it and fucking love it.”

He smirks and holds her hips, lining himself up with her pussy before thrusting him. His balls slapped against her ass as he bottomed out, head throat back as he hissed and curses beneath his breathe.

“Son of a bitch!” His names dug into thighs, leaving angry red marks but he didn’t care.

Elias grunts as she cries out around his cock, cum shooting straight into her throat as he gives a few, last, shallow thrusts. Y/N quickly swallows it all, eyes screwed shut as her pussy stretches to accommodate Drew’s impressive mass. Elias pulls his still half hard cock out of her mouth, falling to his knees to suck on her breast. Y/N gasps and squeals, lifting her head to watch both men as they pleasured her.

 “F-Fuck Drew,” She licks her lips. “Fells like you’re gonna split me in half.”

“Aye lass,” Drew lifts her hips as he thrusts into her, keeping the same punishing pace as he does. “Gonna destroy you for any other cock but ours.”

Y/N bucks, her hand pulling on Elias’ hair as he nips and sucks her breasts, fondling each in turn.

“I think she likes that Drew.” He pinches a nipple before sucking it. “Think she likes the idea of being out little cum slut.”

She nods rapidly, pussy convulsing around Drew as he pounds into her, sweat rolling down their bodies.

“Yes! Yes, I love it daddy!”

Drew lets out a roar as he presses on her clit, thumb moving faster. “Better cum then, whore. Coat my cock and then I’ll fill you with what you want.”

Y/N whined as she tugged against Elias’ hair, back arching off the bench as she threw her head back. Drew hisses as she clenched around him, pussy flooding with warmth as her orgasm ripped through her. Y/N let out a shrill cry, eyes rolling back as her body shook.

“Awe, God, please!” She begged, unsure exactly what she was asking for.

Drew grit his teeth as he thrust deeper, stilling as his cock pulsed and he filled her with rope are rope of thick cum. His body slumped against hers, Elias moving to sit back on the floor, all three of them out of breath.

A few long, quite moments passed before anyone moves. Drew was the first, standing and smirking as their mixed cum dripped from her pussy onto the bench. He grabbed his clothes and pulled them back on, motioning at Elias to do the same.

“You are a dirty whore aren’t ya?” He chucks and runs a hand through his hair as Elias dresses. “Letting two strangers fuck you on a bench in the gym.”

He leans down to press a rough kiss to her lips, callouses hands squeezing her breasts as he pulls away.

“We have to get.” He nods his head towards the door as Elias starts that way. “But if you fancy going again and think that tight cunt can handle two cocks back to back, we left our hotel and room on your counter. Eight pm. Don’t fucking be later slut.”

He slaps her cheek lightly as he too turns and heads for the exit. Neither of them spoke another word and Y/N couldn’t help but watch them; completely god smacked. Had they just fucked her and left? She quickly got up and grabbed her leggings, pulling them back up her legs before she fixed her tank top. Deciding to leave the cleaning for a moment she rushed over to the counter, seeing they had indeed left the name of a hotel, room number, and nothing else.

A million thoughts ran through her head as she locked the door, deciding to close the gym for the rest of the day, and all of them centered around what had transgressed. The more she thought, the more the idea of going to that room seemed absurd, but also thrilling. She couldn’t help but clench her pussy, almost as if she could still feel their cocks in her, as the day went by. Maybe, maybe she would show up at their room that night.

Yello lovelies,

Update loves! So, my laptop is from Buddys Home Furnishings and we must make payments on it. Unfortunately, my boyfriend and I have broken up and the laptop is in his name. He was going to just let it go back but I asked if I could make payments on it. Currently though, its going to be tough. I don’t go back to work until school starts back and even then, it’s hard to pay all the bills when you’re use to having a third income. So, the laptop may have to go back unless I can figure out a way to make extra money. I will keep you all updated though.

As always, much love,

Rose xx

THIRST CREW: @biforbecky2belts @theworldofotps @sophiewolfheart-blog @finnsauroraborealis @the-beastslayers-queen @theeblueehazee @mox-made-me-do-it @sassyspacedust @xprincessofthefallenangels @sassymox @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @new-zealand-chic @sjwrites22 @baroncorbinsfairytale @xxghostnappaxx @sp0ck136 @reigns-rollins-ambrose @demonqueen29 @pleasantlyshamelesswizard

[fromtheboundlesssea]

Beautiful Ghosts Chapter 3

Celia II

Celia stood before the girls who would serve under her and be her companions and confidants. All daughters of noblemen seeking to better align themselves with the new Baratheon dynasty.

There was Janna Tyrell. She knew she must be more cautious around the rose, knowing full well the thorns they had. Her brother and family had fought on the side of the Targaryens. It was smart of them to send the youngest girl, someone who was not fully needed in their family and no doubt hoped to form a connection to Celia on the basis of being the youngest daughter. She was a known gossip. Celia vaguely remembered the woman in court when the mad king was in power. Men seemed willing to say anything as they got distracted by her well-endowed form. She was not to be fully trusted.

Allyria Dayne was like her sister in appearance, but all the brightness of Ashara was gone and Celia had a very good idea as to why that was. Celia had held the girl privately and allowed her to cry. Her oldest brother had sent her to serve under Celia, but she knew the girl wished to go home soon, not caring for the cesspool that had led to the death of her brother and sister, with Celia’s good brother being the one to kill Arthur. After Celia settled in, she would send Allyria back to Dorne under some excuse and let the girl be free of this place.

There was, of course, Lysa. She wasn’t truly a court lady under Celia, she was the wife of the king’s Hand and would be treated thusly. However, Celia was the only person Lysa knew at court. She had no doubt her older sister would find herself otherwise occupied elsewhere and of little actual use.

The last was Cersei Lannister. Celia had met her briefly when Lord Tywin brought her and her brothers to Riverrun to see if a betrothal between Ser Jaime and Lysa would happen. It did not, but of course there was no bad blood between them. The only anger Celia had towards the Lannister family was aimed at Lord Tywin himself. He had set the Mountain upon Princess Elia and the children. For that, she would find no ally in the man. However, Cersei has no control over her father’s actions just as Celia had none on hers. Celia enjoyed Ser Jaime’s presence, the two of them having formed a strange sort of friendship in their time in King’s Landing prior. Surely she and his twin might strike a similar friendship.

There were a few others, but Celia did not know their names.

“The maidenvault will always be open to you and the other ladies of court,” she said kindly. “I hope we shall all be good friends and support one another as our fathers, brothers, or husbands help rebuild Westeros in this new era.” The ladies curtsied their reply. “I suppose all that’s left to do is sew and gossip?”

Lady Janna smiled and they all sat and got to work.

They got to sewing and gossiping, Lysa doing as she did and sharing the most humiliating stories she possibly could about Celia. While there were few and far between, Celia knew most would take such stories with a grain of salt since they were from a rather biased source.

“It is an honor to see you again, your grace,” Lady Cersei said. “We were but children when last we saw one another.”

Celia smiled. “Yes, we’ve grown quite a bit, have we not?”

“Thank the gods for it,” Lady Cersei replied kindly. “My brother spoke fondly of you when he had been able to write. You were a good friend to him.”

Celia nodded. “He was a good friend to me as well. I was happy when I learned he would not be punished for killing the Mad King. I have no doubt your brother did what he had to do.”

The Lannister woman smiled kindly.

“I am in need of a kingsguard to be my main guard. I had thought perhaps I would ask my husband if Ser Jaime would be a good fit. Would your brother be happy with such a placement or would he prefer to serve the king?”

“I believe my brother will be happy wherever he is placed, but it might show a sign of good faith that the Lannisters are shown to be trusted enough to protect the queen. It might paint my brother in a more favorable light.”

Celia nodded. “I shall take that into consideration.”

“I do believe we shall be great friends, your grace,” Lady Cersei said.

Celia smiled. “I believe we just might.”

Continue on Ao3

[wizardessheart-sideb]

The latest episode of the podcast is out! Although all the eps have built-in subtitles, I’ll now be sharing the videos with a transcription under the cut in case people live in areas where internet providers are pieces of shit.

HELLO Hello everyone, welcome to Royal Magic Academy Radio, a podcast about Wizardess Heart. I’m your host, Mari. It’s our 10th episode YAY!!!! Our next big milestone!!! It seems fitting we’re having a milestone when we’ve got a lot of cool stuff to discuss, so let’s get on with the show!

GAMING NEWS We got two new events this week. I was RIGHT, the next guy for the stories re-release event was Yukiya. The event’s called YukiyAmore and it’s a romance point slot. The stories being re-released are The Love Holiday, Flirting Time with Him, Flirting Time with Him and After, Heart-Pounding Moment in Bed, His Sweet n' Spicy Special Lesson, His Devilishly Sugary Kiss, and "Our Hands Stuck!" It’s running until June 8. The login bonus event, Detective Rex, also started. It’s going on until July 25 and the final prize is a CG so yay! That’s exciting. We also got a very interesting birthday event. Instead of a spin-off, we have a Randy-themed collection event! It’s called The Greatest Surprise -Randy’s Birthday- and I think it’s pretty cute! In addition to stories, we’re also getting CGs, one you can get with stars and the other is a ranking prize. But anyway, it’s going on until June 16, just as a heads up. 

SPECULATION So, we’re definitely going to be getting the CG part of YukiyAmore fairly soon. And if we’re still going in order of sequels, after YukiyAmore, we should be getting Vincent. However, I’m not really sure if we will. Vincent’s fallen from the most popular list and with the Happy Party Trainwreck his sequel was, I don’t know if Solmare’s gonna let him have a re-release event so soon. I mean, I def think he’ll get one, but considering he’s not as loved as he used to be, I dunno if he’ll be next, even though if we’re going by sequel line-up, he should be. Also while we’re on the subject of the re-releases, since the story line-up is the same for Yukiya and Klaus, I’m going to guess we aren’t going to get reruns of The Love Holiday, Flirting Time With Him, Heart-Pounding Moment in Bed, His Sweet n’ Spicy Special Lesson, His Devilishly Sugary Kiss, or “Our Hands Stuck!” because we’re getting the content through the rerelease events.Then, of course, Rex’s login bonus is a pretty strong hint that his route will be next. And now we have the biggest speculative piece of them all: Randy’s birthday event. Amelia’s birthday event back in late October was a collection event, but I have to say, I don’t think any of us were expecting a love option to get one of these. To be honest, I’m wondering if this is more or less a test from Solmare to gauge how we’d feel about birthday collection events for other dudes. Randy’s the fandom darling and if we approve of this kind of birthday event for a favorite, then it more or less indicates we’d be down for this for other dudes. Or maybe even multiple. After all, Ninja Shadow does their birthday events where multiple dudes are featured. Maybe we’ll get that for Wizardess. However, this event has stirred up the fandom a bit. 

WIZCOURSE You can’t have a Randy event without having wizcourse. I honest to God wish I were exaggerating, but it seems like every single time something with Randy happens, the fandom explodes. It happened with Bubbly Candy Randy, it happened with his sequel, and it’s happening now. So let’s chat. The fandom seems pretty mixed on this event. The main complaints boil down to:

Randy wasn’t given a spin-off like Klaus, Yukiya, and Elias. It’s even more unfair considering Klaus got a rerun AND a new spin-off.

One of Randy’s CGs is a ranking prize.

With the event stories, Randy essentially has to share his birthday with 6 other guys.

The items are ugly. Wig.

People who are content with the event generally agree on the following:

Randy’s getting a whole event to himself, and not many guys have gotten a collection event to themselves. Only Caesar had this. Nox didn’t play a huge part, or a part at all in some stories in Nightmare - The Phantom Thief, so that doesn’t count.

It’s something still pretty new, and people like the collection event format because it’s cheaper than a spin-off would have been or you know. They just like collection events.

They like the outfits and the aesthetic.

In my opinion, I’m totally fine with Randy getting a birthday collection event. I think the aesthetic is pretty good and I think it’s really cool Randy’s getting an event like this. Last time we had a Randy-themed event that wasn’t a route or sequel, it was a gold medal slot and a lot of people were angry because you had to whale to get those. To be honest, I think the collection event is great in part because it makes his birthday a lot more accessible. It’s true that you can buy stars, but for the most part, we’re getting a birthday for free. We don’t have to whale, we don’t have to use up all our Lune, or keys, or story tickets. I’ve gotten up to Azusa’s story in the event and they all balance the two guys well. No one is overshadowed. Randy isn’t overshadowed. Not to mention, as I said before, I think they might be testing us with this event and maybe in the future do this sort of thing for other guys. But I understand being upset because there’s no spin-off. Randy’s fans are incredibly passionate about him and I’m sure this feels like a blow to the head for them. And overall, as much as I love the idea of birthday collection events for love options, there’s really no way for anybody to win. If they did this with Klaus, the fandom would be outraged because Klaus gets a LOT of content. But with Randy, it’s a bummer he didn’t get a spin-off and if I’m being 100% honest, some of Randy’s fans have super high standards and always get upset when those lofty standards aren’t met. It’s not every Randy fan, of course, but let’s be real, when people are upset they get loud, and loud people are the most visible in fandoms, so even if it’s not the majority of Randy fans, it ultimately looks like it is. And of course, that sends the message to Solmare that we don’t like these events and no other dude is gonna have a chance at a birthday event like this. Although tbh, the only dudes I think could pull the collection event off are Yukiya and maybe Hiro, since they’re very beloved. But Yukiya’s birthday passed and Hiro’s isn't until like. November? Either way, this whole situation is hella messy and it sucks. We should all be happy and celebrating Randy’s birthday together, but this event’s unfortunately really stirred the pot.

DARLING OF THE MONTH But onto something happier: Darling of the Month! To be honest, I was very conflicted on who to make this month’s darling. Originally, I had planned for someone else, but then a week ago I remembered it’s Pride Month. And then once I remembered that, I had to decide between Amelia or Scarlett and that was an incredibly hard choice. But after a lot of thought, I’ve decided on one. So, this month’s Darling of the Month is Amelia Nile!

Amelia is just. Absolute bae. She’s so sweet and kind, and is honestly the best friend we all deserve. She’s funny, helpful, and so so so so generous. Amelia is honestly one of my favorite characters in Wizardess and I’m so happy our LGBT rep in the game is with such a wonderful person. Congratulations Amelia, you absolute Bicon.

CONCLUSION I knew I was gonna have a lot to talk about today, but this ended up being more than I originally anticipated. This was honestly an interesting week in the fandom, but hopefully next week, things quiet down. Let’s all just take a deep breath and keep moving forward. Next week, I’ll be coming back with a theory and I’ll be talking about Amelia’s spin-offs, since she doesn’t have a route for me to review. Thank you to everyone listening for reaching this milestone with me! I’ve been so busy that I haven’t been able to put anything special together for this and our past milestone, but I’m planning to do a special episode for our 15th episode. I’m still working on the details for that, though, so stay tuned for it. And that’ll do it for us this week! This is Mari, signing off.

[shcgc]

the local police department and all its interrogation rooms weren’t exactly a brand new sight for shego to experience, the letter inquiring her attendance for a quick interview basically capable of being given to her during one of her other many visits instead of bothering the mail. she wouldn’t have cared. in fact, she didn’t care. dressed in all black ( just in case it wasn’t obvious enough that this was practically the funeral of her usually free day ) and in the extra respect-lacking gesture of still wearing her sunglasses even inside, she had walked into the room with a light-footedness as if it was her home — where she could be right now, laying in a bubble bath with a flute of champagne and not a single care in the world, and yet she was here instead, sitting across a detective who considered him important for what? having a missing person case in a town as small as sunnyside: what. a. hero.

one. is this the first time you’ve been called to the precinct? do you have a criminal record?

an expressively heavy sigh pushed past shego’s lips at the bland simplicity of the question, a sharp steel smile – full of purposefully obvious fakeness – stretching across her lips. “ is this your first time at the precinct? or is this supposed lack of research an attempt to being the first catch question? “ another sigh and her hand lifted to pull her shades off her face, green eyes giving the detective a once over. it seemed she would stay here a little longer. “ as i am sure you know, i do have a criminal record. in fact, it is not singular !! i have one in eleven different countries with several different verdicts. kidnapping and / or whatever you expect happened to winnipeg? is not one of them. “

two. where were you during the evening of ms. winnipeg sanders’ disappearance? specifically between the hours of 8 and 11 pm?

“ what day was it again? “ boredom was lacing the tone of her voice as her hand waved rather carelessly in the air; skipping apparently through her own thoughts in an attempt to reach the unimportant corners of her mind. “ sunday, was it? saturday? the twenty-third? right. “ the suggestion of an eye-roll did not fail to express her indefinite lack of interest for the matter. “ that night i must have been in the laboratory. it’s a yet non-public project. by contract i am not allowed to talk about it, i am sure you will understand i have to honour my right to remain silent in this case. “

three. can you describe what you were doing immediately before that?

“ i had to run a few errands in preparation for said project. did you know the walter elias university includes an astonishing chemical lab? in a small tribute to mother nature, we actually combined our orders for the chemical transport !! there was a mishap, unfortunately, and i must’ve spent several hours checking the new supply and preparing the transport between their lab and ours. i have nothing to hide– “ which wasn’t quite the truth, but as it seemed a much bigger crime had taken place, any of hers regarding this manner were practically insignificant, weren’t they? “ –therefore i’ll spare you the research: they’re supplies of hydrogen peroxide and potassium persulfate — ingredients for bleach, as i am not sure you would know, for cosmetic purposes. however, that is genuinely all i can reveal of the matter without overstepping the company’s restrictions. “

four. can anyone confirm your whereabouts at this time?

“ of course !! “ there was no hesitation to her answer ( as so far, to none had been ) and the combination of a sugary sweet smile and her never lacking confidence merely confirmed her words. “ the doctor, i am sure, would be more than willing to share my working schedule and confirm any and all of my statements !! as the– “ and it took all and any of her willpower, not to include the ever mocking drakken sound, “ –boss, he might be more inclined to talk about what his employee swore secrecy to. the name is drew theodore p. lipsky – that’s l - i - p - s - k - y !! additionally, i should be on the university’s security cameras the hours before the doctor picked me up. you are more than welcome to check for yourself !! “

five. how well did you know ms. winnipeg sanders?

for possibly the first time just then, shego’s interest peaked, her back straightening ever so slightly and eyes narrowing at the pessimistic choice of words. " did know? “ she repeated, head tilting curiously to the side, “ does it mean you already assume the worst? “ her shoulders leaned back, hitting the back of the uncomfortable chair in a seemingly flabbergasted manner. in reality, shego considered the information to be quite interesting — not because she cared as much about the end of the story – or, to be frank, the beginning, the protagonist or even the mystery around the antagonist – but because there was the potential for something evil. “ i would consider her an acquaintance, but one that’s held in good memory. i knew of her and i knew enough to know she’s been if not the eyes, at least, the ears of sunnyside. “

six. did you and ms. winnipeg sanders ever have beef, or a quarrel? have there been moments where you wished – even if it were just in the heat of the moment – to inflict harm on her?

“ well... “ the single word was stretched out; obviously contemplating whether the situation was even worth mentioning. however, by the mere chance of witnesses, let alone the record of actual confrontations shego had gotten into, she figured it was perhaps better to hear it from her than anyone else. “ it's barely to be considered a quarrel, it’s hardly a dissension really. i would call it a misunderstanding which simply required a firm reminder of where right and wrong lies. “ shego shrugged, sharpness beginning to edge on her features as she thought back to the one time. “ i mean, she told me to go a little easier on kim !! said the colour green didn’t suit me if it came from jealousy. can you believe that? ME?! being jealous of kimberly ann possible?! in what world?!  — i obviously couldn’t leave that unremarked. “

seven. what was your reaction when you heard about the news?

“ i suppose i– “ she trailed off, head beginning to shake ever so slowly as she seemed to think back to it and understand how foolish she had been. “ i must’ve thought the same as everyone else? i had seen the ‘ closed ‘ sign in the shop windows and believed her to have gone on vacation. everyone goes on vacation sometimes, right? to think something already happened to her by that time? “ she swallowed, a perfectly manicured hand lifting to sympathetically rest on top of her heart. “ it’s a daunting thought !! “ in reality? shego couldn’t have cared any less, not about the closing of a sugary sweet bakery and certainly not about the woman who disappeared with it. for all she cared? winnie could stay wherever she was now, dead or alive. “ i am sorry, i– “ shego’s hand lifted a little further, fingers pressing gently against her nose as if to hide the emotional shaking of her breath, “ i just– i hadn’t considered this before. “

eight. when was the last time you saw ms. winnipeg sanders? did you notice anything different about her?

" i barely knew her. i would never be able say whether she acted unusual. “ her shoulders lifted into the indication of a shrug and then sunk once more, lower than they had been before, as though suddenly burdened with the lack of information she had for the police — and wasn’t she truly? how much more fun would she have well knowing of the truth, leading the investigation into the wrong direction and allow herself a little bit of fun, where they – with their nit-picking laws and strictly left vague orders – had ruined hers one too many times. how much joy would she find in seeing the three oh so professional experts run into one dead end at a time — and honestly, who was going to stop her from it?

nine. do you know anyone who may have had any problems with her ? do you know anyone who may have had it out for her?

" i mean, who would ever..? “ another gentle shake of her head, silently speaking of the impossibility of someone having it out for winnie, and for a mere moment the rhetorical question had once more dipped into the truth. seriously, who would? she’d always liked to think she knew the so called villains of the town, but she couldn’t imagine anyone bothering to go after a woman as bland as winnipeg. and if shego couldn’t realistically imagine one of the bad guys doing it, who of the better ones could she frame? kim would be obvious enough, and no matter how much she wanted to re-pay the strain and annoyance her brother had put upon her, it would seem rather suspicious considering their family’s background. it needed to be someone else; just random enough she had no reason to blame them. “ actually !! there is one. have you ever heard of the name santorini? “

ten. have you noticed anything peculiar since the disappearance? anything special you think is worth mentioning?

" it’s about the youngling in their flower shop !! i don’t believe i ever caught the name — i am allergic, you see. “ admittedly, to anyone who knew her it might seem she was simply quick to get sick of most people, but in this case she did, matter of fact, mean the flowers. “ but i never forget a face, and i know it was him !! he was near the bakery, playing with fire and what seemed like self-built explosives..? i would never want to accuse someone of arson, but– “ she sighed heavily, anxiously, empathetically, her gaze which had previously fallen into her lap, lifting up again to meet the detectives’, “ –but for winnie’s sake? it’s a terrifying thought; but... maybe he has told her just a little, you know, too much one day and needed to correct his mistake..? he must’ve been interrupted – thank god !! – before he could perform his plan. “ — much unlike her, who would leave the station with a sardonic smile on her face. maybe people would finally understand NOT to disturb shego wobakoff on her vacation !!

[secretagentfangirl]

Mine

A/N: Thank you for all the feedback so far, it’s really encouraging 😭😭😭 Crystal is getting ready for her debut but she’s thrown for a loop yet again.

OC: Crystal Rivera

Pairings: OC/Baron Corbin, OC/Elias

Rating: T for now

Word Count: 796

(Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3)

Chapter 4:

To get me ready for my main roster debut, Hunter and Stephanie decided to have me be a part of the inaugural Wrestlemania Women’s Battle Royal. Then, the very next day, I would officially be part of the Raw roster. I won’t win this match, of course. But it will give a general idea what the fans think of me when I debut.

As I wandered around backstage, I could feel the butterflies I usually get before a match. But this time they’re way worse. This is the beginning of my future and my nerves have me feeling frazzled. What if the fans don’t react to me? That’s the stamp of doom. Even if they react well to me, it might not be a good sign for my future. Too many NXT call ups get lost in the mix.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of a guitar being strummed. A squeak definitely must have escaped my lips because I heard a man’s deep, smooth chuckle. I knew exactly who it was, even though he was leaving NXT as I was making my way up.

“Hey there, omega. Didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

My jaw dropped. Then the sounds of him tuning his guitar continued. I walked around the corner and stared at him, unable to speak.

“Is there a problem, sweetheart?” He didn’t look up at me.

“Um...It’s just...You called me ‘omega’.”

He kept fiddling with his guitar but he still didn’t look up. “That I did.”

“It’s just that... Look, I haven’t presented yet. I’m only 24. So you can’t know that.”

Finally he looked up. “You’re looking at a beta with one of the best noses in all of the god damn country. I can sniff out anyone before they present. My nose is so good it got me in my pack. Alpha needed a good nose to help with all sorts of things. He knew he wouldn’t come across another beta at my level. I’m his second in command. Turns out it was a blessing, look at my career now. I’m at the top and all the ladies wanna walk with Elias. Scratch that. EVERYONE wants to walk with Elias.”

I remained speechless. I can’t be an omega. That’s murder on my career. I can be turned into a breeder, there’s enough horror stories about that. I’ll be pounced on by alphas everywhere if I go into a heat unmated. And this asshole is just there bragging about his stupid nose. Fuck him.

Fear and rage started rising in me. My fist suddenly hurt. Then the other started to hurt, too.

Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a shout before two hands grabbed my arms. I started struggling.

The hands let me go for a split second. Before I could even process that I was let go there were arms wrapped around me, restraining my arms. I felt like I was being pulled down. Legs wrapped around me and it was suddenly hard to move. Then there was the sound of a voice softly humming in my ear. I felt myself still trying to get myself free. Then all of a sudden I started coming to my senses and started to relax. The voice continued to hum.

Once I stopped struggling, the voice spoke up. “Look, I’m sorry. I overwhelmed you. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

“How would you know, beta?” I cringed. It sounded harsher than I intended, but I felt too tired and defeated to even apologize.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Look. I’m gonna propose something a little wild to you.” He let me go and I slowly turned around to look at him.

“You remind me of someone I knew. She didn’t like the idea of being an omega either. Let me help you. I can make your transition to an omega a hell of a lot smoother. And my pack will help too. No questions asked. Take some time, think about it, and when you make up your mind... let me know.”

Somehow... I trusted him. I looked at him a little bit longer, taking in all of his features. He’s big but he actually looks like a bit of a softy. Was it his eyes? They seem kind and genuine. Maybe it’s that stupid floral kimono thing he’s got on. It looks like it came straight out of my mom’s closet. He’s got a momma bear vibe with that thing. It’s gotta be that.

I nodded.

The corner of his mouth twitched like he was going to smile at me. Then he quickly rose, turned to pick up his guitar and left without another word. Or another glance back.

Tag list:

@xfirespritex @sonjashuterbugjohnson @sixdegreesofsamson @team-elias @unicornsandgliiitter @finish-her @belsoleleann @we-work-hard

Tagging because I want your opinion (and if you don’t appreciate this let me know and I will take you off immediately, no hard feelings at all):

@littledeadrottinghood

[highbuttonsports]

Made in China: Calgary Flames Past year & Future.

Made in China. We see it on everything. Don’t worry, I’m not going to bore you with the whole buy local, support home thing. Made in China had a different meaning for the Calgary Flames this year. The start of a new year, a new season, a new journey to the Stanley Cup. Anyone who has played hockey before knows that heading out on a road trip is the best time to get to know the boys, bond and hang out. Although the travel was gruelling, it was setting up to be a good start. The Flames were beginning the year with some fresh faces in the lineup this year thanks to some work by GM Brad Treliving. The additions of Noah Hanafin on the blue line, Elias Lindholm and Derek Ryan up front. Free agent signings of Austin Czarnik and James Neal, the summer sun wasn’t the only thing that was bright in Calgary. All these new faces mixed with this early road trip things were looking up after a lacklustre season in 2017-2018. 

Fast forward to October, and the dreaded home and home with the Canucks is on the docket to begin the year again. The Flames got off to a decent start at the beginning of the year. Nothing that would of gave anyone the assumption the team was going to have a record year. The talk around the town was the same as usual. Win some games, lose some games, let’s see what this team can do. Goaltending this, forwards that, nobody was happy about all the pieces together. Talk radio was riding Mike Smith’s lacklustre starts, James Neal was bouncing up and down the lineup, it was a typical October in Calgary. I remember watching a game early on against Colorado when David Rittich absolutely stood on his head and the Flames won 3-2 in OT. I said to myself at that point, and although still early, this is going to be a fun year. Boy, was I right, to an extent. October was very mediocre for the Flames, basically winning a game, losing a game, winning a game, losing a game. October 25th, 2019 was the true turning point to the season, and you can ask everyone in the city, on the team, in the media about that game. I remember sitting up high in the 200’s, hands in my face sitting there saying WTF is this. What are we watching. Why did we just pay money to be here. Thank god the Saddledome beer is like gold, because it was needed by all. An absolute thrashing from the Penguins, 9-1. The only upside, James Neal scored, one of his 7 goals on the year. You don’t hear the term rock bottom thrown around a lot, but in those post game scrums it was used more than once. It was the low of lows. I think everyone in that dressing room used that thrashing as motivation, and if you look at the season totals after that game you can see it definitely struck a nerve. The Flames started rolling. A 9-6 win over the Blue Jackets in an absolute gong show of a game, a 7-2 win over the Blues, 7-2 over the Knights, 6-3 over the Jets. It goes on and on. Night in and night out the Saddledome started to fill up even more, get louder. The buzz was finally hitting this city like you’d expect any NHL city to do night in night out. Obviously there was still many speed bumps, many obstacles and many questions to be answered throughout the year, but one thing that was for sure, is this team was for real. 

The real test was still yet to come, they still had the Christmas break and the All-Star break to get through. You know how easily that can cool off a hot team. Unfortunately it cooled the Flames off for a little bit. The true trying time was after the All-Star break followed by the mandatory 5 days off. Sure it was great for some ailing bodies, some lingering injuries, but I bet if you asked most guys in that dressing room they would of fathomed to keep going. Why stop now. You know when you get in that groove, and then all of a sudden you fall out of it. For most of us average folk how hard is it to get back into that grove. I can’t imagine the pressures of the NHL and being at peak performance all the time and hitting this lull. The Flames had a hell of a schedule coming up in February with multiple trips out east, back west, back east and then home. Let’s sum February up with this. 17 days on the road, finishing with a record of 8-3-2. That’s pretty impressive. Can you imagine travelling for 17 days straight, competing at the highest level of your profession night in an night out, and surviving like that. *Insert applause here*. The home stretch to the end of the year was now upon us, and the Flames were battling night in and night out. 

St. Patricks Day, the ol’ luck of the Irish. The Flames were in. Playoff bound, here we go. As I mentioned earlier the city was buzzing for a good portion of the year, but now, the C of Red was alive. The city was taking it to the next level. We know our Flames were going to be hosting a Stanley Cup playoff game. We knew the city was going to be jumping behind the team as support whether it was the bandwagon or not. Do you know how cool it is to be in a city where everyone cares about the same thing for once. Political views out the window, life views out the window, nobody cares who you are, where you come from, we are all Flames. How cool is that? Calgary ended the year with home ice, and drew Nathan Mackinnon and his Colorado Avalanche in the first round. Playoffs, everyone knows it can go either way. It doesn’t matter where one team finished, who clinched when. It’s a new season. You can look at Colorado in a sense they clinched so late, they had to play at such a high level late that they could roll right into the playoffs with the hot hand. But hey, Calgary has had some guys get some much needed rest, they’ll be fresh, maybe they have the upper hand. Calgary opened with a win in game one, and everyone was satisfied. This is what was expected. What wasn’t expected is what happened in the next 4 games. Game 2, Saturday night live in Calgary. The city was insane. The rink was insane. It was a lot of run, and hey! We got overtime on a Saturday night. Anything can happen, and who finishes it but my hometown boy Nate. A pure snipe. What could you do. 1-1 heading down to Denver. I can go on and on about the rest of the series, but everyone knows how that ended up. Colorado absolutely dominated. They skated circles around Calgary. I was in the building for the final game in Calgary, game 5. A couple of jerseys were thrown on the ice late, and the building was silent. I don’t think anyone in that building had any thoughts running through their head. Sure there was frustration, but we all know you can’t think clearly during times like that. The season came to an abrupt end. Treliving described it perfectly, “It’s like running a 100M dash in a 80M gym”.

 Everyone was in shock. There were so many questions, so many frustrations. Where do you begin? Everyone new this was stepping up to be a special year. Many thought it was our time. Such is hockey, such is playoffs, such is life. I can go on and on about where I thought it went wrong, what I wasn’t happy with, but realistically we just have to move forward. There were a lot of good things to come out of this year. Rasmus Andersson showed that he can play top pair minutes and stick there. Noah Hanafin and Travis Hamonic put them selves up as one of the top D pairs in the NHL. Jusso Valimaki although hindered by injury most of the year showed he can hang with the big boys as a 19 year old. Elias Lindholm, Johnny Gaudreau had career years. Mike Smith and David Rittich played the 1A, 1B tandem to a near perfect T. Although goalie questions came up all year long, Mike Smith showed he belonged in the playoffs. Sam Bennett was an absolute beast and truly found his own this year. Garnett Hathaway was probably one of the best penalty killers in the NHL this year. Let’s stick to the positives, and leave the negatives aside. We can build off both, but having a positive outlook on the negatives can go a lot further than tearing someone down. There were a lot of great things this year, a lot of experiences had that I truly think this can be built off of. Calgary can do it again, they will do it again. Looking into the future, there are many great pieces sitting in the cupboards. There were a few prospects like Dillon Dube had signs of a full time NHLer when he was called upon this year. Alan Quine played only 14 games with the big club this year, but showed that he can be a reliable speedy third or fourth line player.  Although a few questions will be raised, and a busy off-season will be had. Brad Treliving reiterated that “there will be changes”. One can only begin to guess what changes will be made, but lots of rumours are floating around. Calgary qualified Matthew Tkachuk, David Rittich and Sam Bennet, all who are going to be key pieces moving into the coming pieces. Andrew Mangiapane was also qualified, and he turned out to be a firecracker out there this year splitting time between the third and fourth line. This goes to show you the depth that these scouts go to to find guys that can hang at this level after almost being counted out just based on draft position alone. The biggest question mark is who will be tending the pipes next year. Part of the puzzle has been all but decided, but that is one cupboard that is missing a few solid pieces. 

I’ll leave you with one lasting thought until next time. Buckets. What the hell does this guy mean about buckets. Well let me explain. Buckets was a term that was used when describing last year. We had guys in this bucket, and guys in that bucket. One bucket was half full with guys that wanted it, the other bucket was full of passengers. Let’s up that size of bucket so everyone wants to be in it no matter how tight, and everybody is driving.  The everlasting Flame from the C of Red is definitely shining a little brighter.

-Mike Murrant

[isisisak]

Under the cut there is FINALLY the answer to that promt-ask about Isak and Mikael meeting for the first time (if some of the stuff that went down back at bakka was indeed romantic) .. enjoy! 

Sooo I have been vomiting my thoughts about this in my chat with my bestie Max ( @noorasevas​ ) and we came up with the following backstory to the whole Mikael deal (bc I am atm not sure that what went down really was romantic but I change my mind about this with every convincing theory I read so … yay me for being constant in my opinion):

Even was best friends with Yousef and Mikael in Bakka. He was together with Sonja but they weren’t doing so great. Even figured out that he is bi bc he started to form a crush on one of his best friends, Mikael. Bc he and Mikael grew up together and have always shared everything with one another Even some day tells him (maybe a bit of liquid courage is involved, maybe not).

Mikael, who does not intent to be mean or hurt Even nevertheless rejects him quite harshly. Bc he was just young, overwhelmed and well, basically just skdjskdjskdsdj went down in his head. After this Even gets in a very bad spiral of self doubt and self loathing which also is one reason he turns back to Sonja.

(Somewhere down the line, while Even was in the middle of an episode, he told her what happened. Which is also why Sonja knows about Even being bisexual and why she doesn’t seem so surprised when she learns about Isak).

When things calmed down, Even doesn’t want the confrontation anymore and everything feels awkward and he’s hurting.

So, he tries his best to avoid Mikael. Not liking the way this lifelong friendship ended, Mikael tried to apologised both in person and via texts.

But Even (which we know isn’t the “let’s confront this head on” kind of person but rather goes over the situation over and over in his head until he is convinced that he does those people a favor with staying away.

(This was also why he was so patient and understanding with Isak, bc he took a long while to stop with the self loathing and start to accept himself, bc his parents and Sonja were supportive but the initial reaction to the first person he told was so ugly – even if not intentionally so)  

[And also: most people show Isak going full on confrontational or protective/jealous and even if he (IN MY OPINION) would also feel that in a way, he would mostly not act on those. Bc he is a very in-his-head person.]

Ok the setting is that mysterious karaoke bar. *crowd goes uuuuuuh*

The light is red hued and the music is loud, so whoever sings isn’t heard that clearly. Thank god for that, because right now Magnus is smashing (read: slashing) one very cheesy song for Vilde, who stands in the front row, telling everyone who tries to shuffles past her

“That’s my boyfriend!”

The tables are positioned along the wall, with little benches on one side and on the other side there are chairs facing the inner part of the bar so people can turn around and look at whoever is murdering the next song.

Isak is sitting on one of those benches, head resting against the wall behind him (he may or may not be a bit tipsy right now) and his side is pressed against Even. Even who is in a deep discussion on song lyrics with Jonas and Mahdi right now, making Isak roll his already closed eyes.

He hasn’t really slept that great the past couple of nights. This whole deal with that chemistry test, plus some stuff with his father and then on top of it all the #HvemErMikael mess has been a lot. He really should talk to Even about it, but Even had blocked his attempts so far and Isak had filed every bit of information he got along the way neatly in a drawer in his head.

What he knew so far:

- Mikael had been Even’s best friend

- There also was another best friend

- There has been a falling out between all three of them which meant:

- there was no contact / but Even sometimes receives messages where his face falls and Isak often can’t bring himself to ask about them

- There were some feelings involved but he wasn’t quite sure who had them for whom and what happened

- Even assured him he never had anything with Mikael (and yet there was a pause before he said that or a look for a split second)

Isak trusts Even and believes him, but he’s also convinced that he doesn’t have very important parts of the story.

His thoughts are interrupted by Jonas who loudly says, “Alright! So, proof it then! You two go and then me and Isak will do that one,” pointing at some song on the list they can choose from. Isak’s eyes snap open.

Ok, so he might have told the other boys that he was the master of Karaoke. And he and Jonas might have been trash talking to the other boys about how good they’d do. Well…shit. This seems to be somehow connected to that, doesn’t it?

Before he can protest about anything that just happened, Even gives him a cheek kiss.

“I’ll dedicate this one to you, baby” he says with soft voice and his eyes crinkling up. He was close before and now he is just deliciously closer.

Isak just melts a bit at the proximity and moves his head from side to side to initiate some nose nuzzling. Even kisses him, on his mouth this time and sneaks an arm around Isak’s middle.

“Halla, Baby. Did you zone out there for a while?” Even asks, speaking so low that it is only for his ears.

Their faces are still close, close, close. Foreheads touching. Isak frowns, looking down his nose at Even, almost going crossed eyed from him being so near.

“Nei?” he huffs indignantly. “Of course not?” which only makes Even chuckle and peck him again. Once, twice, three times.

Hands in Even’s hair he’s pulling him closer because….. well because, and continues to deepen the kiss. How there are still a ton of butterflies in his stomach after it’s been almost half a year, he sure doesn’t know. Why even call it butterflies? It would be way more accurate to call it a fist, that clenches his inner organs and- When Even touches his tongue with his, he stops to think about that. He stops to think, period.

One hand still on Isak’s hip Even puts the other hand on Isak’s jaw, long fingers reaching into his hair that curls at the back of his neck. Following his bottom lip with his thumb and flicking their noses when Isak tilts his head all the way to the side.

“Woah there! Let Tongak rest for tonight, man. We need to go! Our song is next!” Comes Mahdi’s impatient voice and he seems shakes Even’s shoulder mildly, judging from the way their kiss was broken. Isak glares at him over Even’s shoulder, who just pecks him one last time and then moves to go with Mahdi.

“Wait! What song is it?”

But they are already on their way. Isak turns to Jonas who tips on the card and Isak scans the name.

“Hva faen?! Vilde gets that cheesy love song and all I get is Love the way you lie from Rihanna and freaking Eminem?”

Isak scrunches his face up in disbelieve and throws both hands up, looking at his grinning best friend.

“It was the only one where one part was rap and one part was sung.” Jonas shrugs “And to be fair, your boy’s default setting is cheese so this is a nice change.”

Which earned him another eyeroll when the song starts and he concentrates on those two ridiculous boys trying to rap/sing and making a dramatic show of two lovers on stage.

The song ends (way too soon, seeing his boyfriend on stage, even in that awful way, was something) and Even and Mahdi go off stage and signal that they’ll make a bar run. Good. He feels The Sober™ coming.

Talking about staying drunk, a slightly tumbling Eva is walking in their direction, waving enthusiastically when she sees Isak and Jonas. She has Vilde, Magnus and three other guys in tow.

Isak isn’t paying much attention to the other guys at first, until, when all sat down, he looks up at the one sitting right in front of him and fy faen.

His whole mind goes blank. The voices of the others get muffled while he can’t stop staring at  the boy in front of him. Mikael. His mind begins to work again, or at least isn’t completely blank anymore, but just a repetition of Mikael, Mikael, Mikael.

Vilde’s high voice points at all of the new boys, listing their Names. “Those are, Elias, Adam and Mikael. Elias is Sana’s brother!” she says excitedly. Isak finally manages to tear his eyes away from Mikael and flicks them to the others.

None of the others show any signs of distress - and why would they? But how is it possible the rug has not been pulled out under the others too, while Isak is basically free falling here?

He isn’t really following the conversation, until Magnus’ suddenly lets out a high pitched “What?? You guys went to Bakka and are 97?? So sick! My best friend went there!! Do you guys know Even?” The expression on the face of Sana’s brother reminds Isak of movies where the frame freezes, the record scratches and a voice over going “you probably wonder how I found myself in this situation”.

Before he has time to read Mikael’s face a drunk Eva exclaims “Oh! Fy faen! Shit, I totally forgot about that!! That’s so true! Do you??”

This was directed at the guys with a wild gesture, spilling some of her drink over their shoes. Seemingly thankful for the distraction, Elias and the boy who’s name Isak has already forgotten busy themselves with that, while Vilde joins in and says, “Oh, I never even thought of that! You must know Even, then! This” pointing at him. Oh, no, nei, Vilde, nei! “is Even’s boyfriend!”

The one without the name is the first to move after that. He nods awkwardly in Isak’s direction, whose insides have gone cold. Isak manages to make a gesture which could be interpreted as a nod (if one was kind) and after that his eyes move to Mikael.

The other boy had obviously been staring at him, because he now  looks at the table with a  guilty look. Mikael looks like a trapped animal and Isak knows the feeling.

Isak feels a sudden wave of sympathy for Mikael. Sympathy isn’t the only feeling that is swirling around in Isak’s stomach, though. He feels doubt, the ever present doubt of am I good enough? He has gotten better at not indulging those feelings in the last months, but they just came back full force, sucker punching him in the gut. He feels jealous, which makes him feel like an idiot, because this really shouldn’t be about him.

He feels pissed, because even though he has no real clue what went down, he knows that whatever happened it hurt Even, and he would march into battle if that means his boy never hurt one day of his life again.

The whole whirlwind of emotions was combined with an ongoing AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH in his head. So, naturally, he turns his head to Jonas, his haven, his safe place, his best friend who he hoped would pick up on the situation. Which he does. With his iconic brows knitted and lifting one shoulder, Jonas is asking him what the hell is going on without saying a word. Meanwhile Vilde, Eva and Magnus have taken on talking again, about what, Isak couldn’t say.  

He should get up. He should go and warn Even. He wouldn’t want him to walk into this as unprepared as he just was. Because when he is this thrown by it, he can only imagine what it’ll do to Even.

Just when he wants to stand up and ask Magnus to move, so he could get out of that booth, Mikael speaks. To him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The voice of the other boy is surprisingly soft when he asks “Is Even here?”. So, ok. He can’t leave now, can he? His gaze flicks to Jonas again. His best friend looks at the bar, or the general direction of it and lifts his brows. Then he gets up and without anyone really noticing – guess why – he leaves.

Hopefully Isak understands that correctly, and Jonas is going to go find Even. He’s glad the others seem very much caught in conversation and it weirdly feels like a one-on-one situation, even though there are five other people besides them sitting at the table.

Before he answers he coughs, twice, buying himself some time, trying to settle down a bit.

“Uuh, ja,” he answers, nodding once. Because he can’t say no, even though he doesn’t yet know what the boy in front of him will do in this information. When he looks at Mikael straight on – how he found that courage, he will never know – he sees the dark eyes of the boy widen. Is he shocked? Scared? Hopeful?

Isak really can’t read the expression that takes over Mikael’s face. He nods. Isak mirrors the nod. So they sit there, oddly similar and strangely connected in this unfamiliar territory.

Suddenly Mikael speaks again, way softer than what Isak should be able to hear over Eskild’s version of Toxic that’s going on in the back.

“How is he?” When he says this he looks lost, and also… guilty? Isak’s chest clenches. Yes, he doesn’t know what this guy means to Even or what went down between them, but at the same time Isak can’t quite get himself to dislike that boy with the seemingly ongoing pout.

Isak puts his tongue between his lips and squints his eyes a bit, looking down at the empty beer in front of him. He decides to answer that with “He’s great” and tries to plaster a confident smile on his face and adds “We just moved in together!”

Because fuck it, yes, he doesn’t need to prove anything to that guy and he doesn’t dislike him and he’s not jealous, but he also just wants to make his territory clear. So, when Mikael doesn’t react in a confrontational manner, but rather looks like he deflates with a relieved sigh, something in Isak melts.

Because the other boy obviously really cares. Cares that Even is ok. Cares that Even has Isak in his life and that they seem to be solid (they are, but moving in together does bring the image of a stable relationship across a bit more).

Without even consciously registering it he warms up to Mikael. So, when their eyes meet again, Isak smiles. Maybe warmer than he should, since he still doesn’t know what happened, but it just happens.

He makes to stand up and says “I’ll go look for him.” Leaving the I’ll see if he wants to see/talk to you hanging between them in the air. Mikael’s whole face morphs into this really hopeful, and bright, still a little timid and nervous smile. He nods, following Isak’s movement as he shoves himself out of the bench over Magnus and quietly says “Thank you.”

So, so he got that, huh?

[dbtrilogy2]

Strike One(16)

Carlton

I won't up early this morning to make my family breakfast. Believe it or not I'm trying here. Having both my girls upset with me is stressful plus my own son schooling me was a bit of a wake up sign.

"And the kiss up begins." Elias walks in. "Waffles huh good choice."

"Have you always been this much of a smart ass?" I put Rebecca plate on the tray with the cup of coffee and bowl of sliced pears.

"Yeah but you wouldn't know that." He smirked pouring himself a cup of juice.

"Look I get you upset or whatever but I'm still you father don't disrespect me boy."

Me being away is doing more than just having my family miss me. I'm starting to feel like a step dad. When all this album stuff is over they see it all was worth it. The long hours and all!

Before I start my way to my wife and I room my princess came down.

"Your here?"

"Yeah I live here don't I?" I pinch her cheek. Usually she would smile and blush.

"I don't know I thought you moved into your office." She walked by me.

"Ok you both need to cool it. I get it you don't like me working but I bet you do like your phones and clothes and living in this house. Someone has to pay for all of that stuff it doesn't just come for free!"

"Dad please don't try to make us look like over spoiled kids. You gave us most of this stuff we didn't ask for it." Amanda says picking at her food. "If it means you won't miss another of my shows you can have my phone and iPad....I just want my daddy back."

She pouts getting up walking off. Elias went after her leaving me alone. Taking the tray of food I go into our room seeing a empty bed.

"Yes I can meet you at my shop and we'll just work from there." Rebecca came out the closet putting on a watch. Seeing me and the food she ends the call. "What's this?"

"Breakfast. I wanted us to all eat together but the kids are in a mood." I say watching her sit in front of her make up stand thing.

"That happens when you abandon your kids for some island hoe."

"Rebecca-"

"Don't worry I'm not starting anything just stating a fact. I gotta leave but thanks for the thought...don't forget Julian first game is tonight everyone is going."

"Ok but uh I was thinking after all this album stuff is done we can go on some kind of family trip maybe Disney world or something. I wanna show you guys the benefit of all the long hours and me being absent to a few things."

"Sure Carlton I'll see you later."

She came kissing my head then strutting out. Her outfit was a little more over the top than usual but I'm sure she just wanted to look good.

Today I'm going with Robin to her first radio interview and a shoot for her album. It's all in the finale stages so soon we'll be presenting a track list to the record heads for their approval.

By the time I was leaving out I was home alone. I lock up the house and hop in my car heading for the address set in my GPS. While waiting in front of the house I sat on my Instagram. I come across a picture of my wife from this morning. I haven't really paid much attention to her post like I usually do.

@BuymyBrand:#morningthoughts people aren't like clothes you can't change them whenever you want that change has to be in them don't miss out on your own blessings being so worked up in helping someone who doesn't want that help

"Morning sunshine." She got in smiling at me. "I'm so excited for today."

"Good I'm excited for you. So today is your first radio interview then the photo shoot for the new comers magazine. After we get the ok from the label they'll get some more singles out put you on a promo tour so this is good practice." I pull off towards the radio station direction.

"Thanks for coming with me I'm shitting bricks right now! Oh and thanks to for picking me up my car should be done by tomorrow."

"It's cool."

We rode in silence for a while until reaching the station. Once inside were taken to a room where the DJ and his co host are waiting. The show will be going on live.

"Hey thanks so much for coming in today. Your song with drake is a killer we play it all the time."

Robin blushed. "All praise really goes to this guy here he made that happen and has been personally helping me become something big." She looked back smiling at me.

"Yeah I've been hearing good things about this man here!" Me and the DJ go back to the middle school days. We were science lab partners. "How you been man?"

"Pretty good just been working my ass off."

The show started and was going smooth. They asked her about how she got started what her style is what brought her to Atlanta. This simple up coming artist questions. But then it took a slight turn when the co host started question her about us.

"I know Carlton is the producer for your up coming album but it seems you guys spend more than a lot of time together."

"Well yeah Carlton is like a mentor to me he's been teaching me about the business. He's taken me under his wing in a way."

"Mmhm and how does his wife feel about all this or do you just not care and only worry about you?"

"I wouldn't know when we are together it's just about us the outside world doesn't matter. If she had a problem I'm sure he would say something."

No no no no no no.

"It's not my fault if he rather work with me than be at home with his wife. I'm not forcing him we just enjoy out late nights together."

I'm so fucked.

The co host looked back at me shaking her head. "Late nights? You don't think it might look wrong how your so comfortable keeping a husband from his family. Any self respecting woman I know doesn't spend most of her time with married men. Rather he's not stopping it you should have some respect not only yourself but for his wife right? How would you feel if you were in her shoes?"

"I guess yeah but it's clear she's not doing something right and it's keeping him out. If anything someone needs to be telling her how to keep her husband home." She laughed looking back at me. "And if it were me being that I know how to keep my man happy this wouldn't be happening."

I signal to cut the interview and walk out. This bitch is about to get us both killed! I can't blame anyone but myself for that anyway.

"Hey why did you run out like that?" Robin came out looking worried.

"Really...what the hell was that!?"

"An interview you didn't think it went good?" She acting clueless right now.

"No you basically called out my wife that shit was way beyond unnecessary."

"She asked me a question and I answered!"

"That has to be the dumbest thing you've done. I told you before we even got here not to answer question like that ones that are clearly are a win for the host but a lose for you. What makes you think you have any right to speak on me and my wife?"

"Oh cry me a fucking river that bitch does nothing but stress you out just because she knows I can take you away in a heart beat. It's not my fault I'm more enjoyable to be around."

"Don't speak on my wife ever again you not about to take anybody a god damn place and if you call her out her name again you'll be dealing with me."

This bitch is crazy. Through the rest of the day between the photo shoot and car rides I said nothing to her. There nothing to say really. I had to stop by my office since I left my laptop.

"Carlton would you stop ignoring me. You are blowing this way bigger than it is." Robin followed me to my office.

"You cloned my wife on live radio...am I suppose to just let that go?" I unlock my door walking in the room.

"So what it's not like she's gonna do anything about it."

"You are so wrong to think that." My oh so beautiful smart and understanding wife smiled walking in sitting.

"Hey baby." I sat kissing her cheek.

"Hi...Robin I wanna talk to you."

Mona

Jumping out my sleep I squint at my door. I thought I heard someone call me but-

"Mona get up!" Mom came busting in my room.

"Ma I'm sleep why you gotta come up in here with all that." I whine laying back down.

"Because I'm telling you to get up."

"It's Sunday mommy let me sleep."

"No I need you and Stanley to watch the twins today. Their both already up and we about to leave."

After she left I went back under my warm comforter. As I'm getting back into my deep sleep a cold wind hits me.

"What the hell!?"

"Curse at me again I dare you." Dad looked at me blank. "I know your mother told you to get up. If I come back in here and you not up imma pull you out the bed myself." He left leaving my door open.

Smacking my teeth I get up stomping and slam my door. It wasn't on purpose per say but hey. As I'm heading in my bathroom my bedroom door flies open scaring the shit out of me.

"You lost your mind slamming my door like that!?"

"It was on accident!"

This is why I prefer to deal with mom she's more laid back and not as crazy as daddy. He is not afraid to get at us while mom would rather give a look and send us to our room or something. I know I get away with a lot with mom and try not to take advantage of that.

He looked at clenching his jaw. "Keep the damn door open and hurry up."

I shower and get dressed in something lazy. I could hear the twins already.

"Morning." Stanley smiled flipping her pancake. "I made oatmeal for them so can you feed one and I'll get the other."

I sigh picking up a bowl sitting in front of Morgan. "Open up runt." She smiled dropping her mouth.

"So what did you do last night."

"Nothing much. How was the celebration dinner?"

"Well it turned into something else for me and Julian. He called it a practice date."

"Oh ok grown self."

I think Julian and Stanley would be the cutest couple. She deserves that boyfriend privilege. Gifts for no reason being showered with compliments and kisses. Oh and can't forget that tingling feeling of your special someone calling you baby. It's simple but from the right person sounds like the greatest thing ever.

That's how things were when Sam and I were together. I remember the first time we kissed. It was at the junior high summer dance. We snuck off to the empty hallway. He put my back to the wall looked deep in my eyes giving my stomach butterflies. That was the best night of my life. I thought we would last for years honestly but sometime after we got to high school I didn't feel the spark anymore. Shawn gives me that spark and this rush feeling.

"We ate at this pizza place it was just us and the people that worked there. It was really nice." I noticed her blush. "After we got ice cream then he dropped me off."

"Did he kiss you?"

"No we decided to save that. I think I'm starting to really like him...it's kind of scary."

"Awwwww."

Laughing we finish feeding the girls. We cleaned them up and decided to walk to the park. We ran around the small playground until they found their own little friends. Sitting on a bench I pull out my phone.

Danger💉♥️:baby where u at I wanna see you

Me:the park around my neighborhood but don't be to noticeable I'm with my sisters

Danger💉♥️:yea yea I do what I want girl

"I saw you sneaking in last night."

"What?"

"Around one I got up to get some water and I heard something in your room and peaked. I saw you climb through the window. Why did you lie to me?"

Sighing I lock my phone. "Because what I do is my business. If you knew I wasn't actually home-"

"I wanted to see if you would lie to me." She looked at me sad. "All I'm trying to do is protect you Mona please...this can only end wrong."

"I don't need to be protected I'm not a child! Shawn makes me happy why isn't that enough!"

"Because this whole relationship is illegal! You are fourteen a minor in the eyes of the law if anyone gets wind of this Shawn is going to prison. How can you be with someone investing so much of your time and emotions knowing at any moment the could be taken away from you!?"

"You should be asking yourself that honey."

I didn't want to do this I really didn't. Stanley and I are closer than blood sisters. But she's over stepping her place and clearly I need to push her back.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and Julian...I'm sure the adoption people frown on in family relationships with kids they send into families."

She pouts looking at me shaking her head. "You know I'm even in a relationship with him."

"And yet you two just went on a date?"

"So that's how far your willing to go with this?"

"All I'm saying is you rat me out I rat you out and we both lose something important. Me a boyfriend and you a family."

It may have been a little harsh on my end....ok it was really harsh but she should've stayed out my business.

"Fine Mona you won I'll back off...for good."

As my phone vibrates in my hand she walked off with the diaper backpack calling the girls. Seeing his text I smiled looking around until I spot his car.

"Hey sexy get on in here." Shawn bites his lip as I slide in his car. "Where you wanna go?"

"Where you want baby."

Nodding he pressed on his gas making the car roar. As he's pulling up to the park exit Stanley walks across with the twins in the double stroller.

"Isn't that your sister? Damn she got ass."

"Shawn what the hell I'm right here you dick!" I shove him as he chuckled.

"Man be quiet. She got more ass than you."

"Seriously Shawn shut up that's my sister I'm your girlfriend that's some disrespectful shit!"

"Who told you that Mona I have a girlfriend already."

[pamphletstoinspire]

The Church's Year - FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT (LAETARE)

The Introit of this day's Mass, which begins with the word Laetare, is as follows:

INTROIT Rejoice, O Jerusalem, and come together all you that love her; rejoice with joy you that have been in sorrow: that you may exult, and be filled from the breasts of your consolation. (Isai: LXVI. 10. 11.) I rejoiced at the things that were said to me: We shall go into the house of the Lord. (Ps. CXXI. 1.) Glory be to the Father, etc.

COLLECT Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, that we who justly suffer for our deeds may be relieved by the consolation of Thy grace. Through etc.

EPISTLE (Gat. IV. 22-31.) Brethren, it is written that Abraham had two sons; the one by a bond-woman and the other by a free-woman. But he who was of the bond-woman was born according to the flesh; but he of the free-woman was by promise: which things are said by an allegory. For these are the two testaments. The one from Mount Sina, engendering unto bondage, which is Agar: for Sina is a mountain in Arabia, which hath affinity to that Jerusalem which now is, and is in bondage with her children. But that Jerusalem which is above is free, which is our mother. For it is written: Rejoice, thou barren that bearest not: break forth and cry, thou that travailest not; for many are the children of the desolate, more than of her that hath a husband. Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of promise. But as then he that was born according to the flesh persecuted him that was after the spirit, so also it is now. But what saith the scripture? Cast out the bond-woman and her son: for the son of the bond-woman shall not be heir with the son of the free-woman. So, then, brethren, we are not the children of the bond-woman, but of the free: by the freedom wherewith Christ hath made us free.

EXPLANATION It was the common custom, in the days of the patriarchs, for a man to have more than one wife. This was permitted by God, partly because they and their descendants would hardly have been satisfied with one marriage, (Matt. XIX. 8.) partly because bigamy was a means of promoting the increase of the people of Israel, typical of the future increase of the children of God. Thus Abraham had two wives, who had each a son; of these Ismael was born to Abraham from his bond-woman Agar, in the natural way; the other, Isaac, the son of the free wife Sara, was born in a supernatural manner according to the promise, (Gen. XVIII. 11. 14. ) that she by the grace of God, although aged, would give birth to a son. These two women with their sons were types, as St. Paul says, of the two Testaments: Agar the bond-woman typified the Old, Sara, the free-woman, the New Testament; the son of Agar, the Jews, the son of Sara, the Christians; for the Jews, like Ismael, are descendants of Abraham by natural descent, but the Christians, like Isaac, by grace. The Old Testament gave birth only to servants; for the Jews obeyed the commandments of God through fear of punishment, and in hope of temporal reward; the New Testament, the Jerusalem from above, that is, the Christian Church, gives birth to children who willingly and through love obey the commandments of God. Although the Christian Church, the New Jerusalem, chosen from heathenism, was in the beginning barren, as was Sara, she gives birth, by the grace of God and through His apostles, to more children than the Jewish Church, which was so long the Church of God, that is, more were converted to Christianity from the Gentiles than from the Jews. The latter even hated and persecuted the Christians, as did Ismael his brother Isaac. For their hardness of heart they were cast out by God, like Agar and her son; that is, after the destruction of Jerusalem the Jews were dispersed to all parts of the world. Let us, therefore, give thanks to God, that through Jesus we have become the free children of our heavenly Father, who through love fulfil His holy will by which we shall be saved.

ASPIRATION Give me the grace, O Jesus, that by prayer and fasting, and patience in all adversities and persecutions, I may be made less unworthy of Thy passion; that I may not, one day, be cast out by Thee, but become worthy of Thy divine promise and Thy eternal consolation in the heavenly Jerusalem.

GOSPEL (John VI. 1-15.) At that time, Jesus went over the sea of Galilee, which is that of Tiberias; and a great multitude followed him, because they saw the miracles which he did on them that were diseased. Jesus therefore went up into a mountain, and there he sat with his disciples. Now the pasch, the festival day of the Jews, was near at hand. When Jesus therefore had lifted up his eyes, and seen that a very great multitude cometh to him, he said to Philip: Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat? And this he said to try him; for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered: Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one may take a little. One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, saith to him: There is a boy here that hath five barley loaves and two fishes: but what are these among so many? Then Jesus said: Make the men sit down. Now there was much grass in the place. The men therefore sat down, in number about five thousand. And Jesus took the loaves; and when he had given thanks, he distributed to them that were set down: in like manner also of the fishes, as much as they would. And when they were filled, he said to his disciples: Gather up the fragments that remain, lest they be lost. They gathered up, therefore, and filled twelve baskets with the fragments of the five barley loaves, which remained over and above to them that had eaten. Now those men, when they had seen what a miracle Jesus had done, said: This is of a truth the prophet that is to come into the world. Jesus therefore when he knew that they would come to take him by force, and make him king, fled again into the mountain himself alone.

Why did Christ try St. Philip?

To test his faith and confidence; to instruct us that before seeking supernatural means, we should first look for natural ways of providing; that the miracle of the multiplying of the loaves should be more marvellous to the people from having seen there was no provision; and that we may learn to trust in God, who is a helper in due time in tribulation. (Ps. IX. 10.)

What signs did Christ make use of in this miracle, and why?

According to St. Matthew (XIV. 19.) He lifted up His eyes to heaven, by which He showed that all good gifts come from above; He gave thanks, thus teaching us to give thanks to God for all His blessings. "The table," says St. Chrysostom, "that is approached and is left with prayer will never know want, but the more richly yield its gifts." He blessed the bread showing us that the divine blessing increases all things.

Why did Christ require them to gather up the fragments that were left?

That they should not be wasted or destroyed; that the greatness of the miracle should be made evident by the quantity of the fragments; and that we might learn to honor the gifts of God, even the most insignificant, and if we do not ourselves need them, give them to the poor.

Why did Christ, after this miracle, flee from the people?

Because after this miracle the people recognized in him the Messiah, and would have made Him king. He wished to teach us to flee from praise and honor, and in all our actions seek not our own, but God's glory.

CONSOLATION IN POVERTY

This gospel gives the account of Christ providing for those who followed and listened to Him, which is indeed consoling for the poor. God from the beginning of the world has always cared for His own. For the aid and comfort of His chosen people in time of famine God sent Joseph, the son of the Patriarch Jacob, in advance into Egypt: (Gen. XLV. 5.) for forty years He fed the children of Israel in the desert with bread from heaven; (Deut. VIII. 2. 3.) He fed the Prophet Elias by a raven; (III Kings VII. 6.) and thought of Daniel in the lions' den. (Dan. XIV. 37.) In the New Testament God shows His merciful care for His own, because in great need He fed them marvelously through angels, men, and even animals, as we frequently see in the lives of the saints. Truly has David said: God forsakes not the just, I have been young, and am now old: and I have not seen the just forsaken, nor his seed seeking bread, (PS. XXXVI. 25.) that is, one who sincerely serves Him, and seeks before all the kingdom of God and His Justice, as Christ commands. (Luke XII. 31.) Strive to be a faithful child, and you will have God for your father, and with King David you can cast your care upon the Lord, and He will sustain you. You must not think it is enough to pray and trust in God, He demands that you should use your strength to receive help, for if any man will not work, neither let him eat. (II Thess. III. 10.)

ASPIRATION In Thy omnipotence and goodness, O my God, I put my trust, firmly believing that if I fear Thee, serve Thee faithfully, and avoid evil, I shall not be abandoned in poverty, but receive many good things. Amen.

INSTRUCTION ON PREPARATION FOR EASTER

Now the Pasch the festival day of the Jews, was near at hand. (John VI. 4.)

If we would sing a joyful Alleluia with the Church on the festival of Easter, we must fulfill her desire, and prepare ourselves to celebrate it worthily. Therefore, we should shun improper, clamorous meetings, and retire often to pray in solitude, especially to meditate on the bitter sufferings of our Saviour, for when man is alone, God speaks to his heart. (Osee. II. 14.) We should carefully examine our conscience, and consider how we stand before God, for upon this day shall be the expiation for you, and the cleansing from all your sins: you shall be cleansed before the Lord; for it is a Sabbath of rest, and you shall afflict your souls, that is, by fasting, watching, and praying. (Lev. XVI. 30-31.) From this Sunday until Easter we should fast more strictly, give more alms to the poor if we are able, or if poor ourselves, bear our poverty more patiently, offering it to Christ in union with His poverty, His hunger, thirst, etc. ; we should make a sincere and contrite confession, and purify our heart from the old leaven of iniquity, that we may keep the Easter meal with Christ in the unleavened bread of purity and truth. (I Cor. V. 7. 8.) For this end we should incite ourselves to holy desires, rise from sin, which is the death of the soul.