#that but not as afraid as i was in april when i had a full on breakdown and canceled it the day before it was set to happen lol

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[redsrooftopprincess]

Damn it.

Okay, one last treat before I try really really hard to set my hyperfocus aside and get some actual work done. 😅

Raphael x Reader

No warnings, just fluff

Raphael leans up against the wall beside the bookcase, attempting to appear casual and failing miserably.

"So, uh, I got a question."

April doesn't look up from the papers spread out across the dining room table.

"Fire away."

The terrapin shifts his weight uncomfortably, "How to you - uh, humans I mean - how do you know... when you're in love?"

This does get April's full attention. She stops working and looks up, narrowing her eyes and scrutinizing her friend. This question seemingly came out of nowhere. Raph looks anywhere but at the very skilled investigative journalist.

Sometimes they asked questions about being human, moreso when they were younger, but this is one topic that had been avoided. No use knowing if it'll never happen, right?

So why now?

But, as she always does in these situations, she tries to answer him as honestly as she can.

"Well..." she starts, trying to think of the best way to describe the emotion, "I guess it feels..."

"All the songs start makin' sense," Casey calls over his shoulder from the couch while he watches a baseball game.

April shrugs and smirks, "I mean he's not wrong... When your in love things just... *matter* more. Especially the little things. That person sort of becomes *your* person. The first person you want to see every day, the first person you want to tell when something amazing happens, the first person you run to when it feels like you're drowning..." She looks fondly over at Casey, chuckling as he swears at the television. Her eyes soften after a moment and return to Raphael.

"And there's this... gravity. It's not even a conscious thing, you just keep coming back to them, no matter how far away you try and get. Once you're in love, you're pretty much doomed," she laughs. "Make sense?"

"Yeah, okay..." He replies. Satisfied, April returns to her work. Raphael glances over at you in the kitchen. You and Mikey were attempting to make cookies from memory, and you were both covered in flour and sugar and laughing your asses off. You've never looked more beautiful.

Raphael sighs quietly "I was afraid you were gonna say that."

"Huh?"

"Nothin'."

...

[mistymisfit]

Hounds of love

Summary: Jason wakes up from a bad dream, lucky for him he's got you to make him feel better. Based on the song Hounds of love by Kate Bush (and that post I made in april)

warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship ,I think it's gender neutral but lmk if I missed anything.

wc: 1,5k

a/n: sorry for the --summarized-- psychoanalysis class lol (this has been in my drafts since april idk why I didn't post sooner)

Jason had always yearned for love, any type of love he could get. Ever since he was a child, afraid and hiding in the dark cold streets of Gotham, he's always wanted to be loved- to be so full of love he wouldn't be able to take it anymore. But he's always been a coward, every time someone would get close enough he'd start fighting it, self-sabotaging as if he subconsciously knew he did not deserve it. His own father, his mom, his stepmother, Bruce, he'd been let down time and time again by the adults in his life supposed to protect him. If they couldn't give him what he wanted, love him, who could?

The dread, or rather the certainty he had over being unlovable shadowed over him, as much as he tried to push it down and pretend he didn't need it. His own biological parents left him, they never wanted him. The very people who were supposed to love him, he was their son. They brought him into this world, it was their responsibility. Then he'd say he didn't even like Bruce to begin with, who cares if he chose to adopt him? Who cared if he looked up to him so dearly once as a child? He had died under his care, Jason had almost everything he wanted and went ahead and ruined it-- all because he was too afraid to accept it, because he was too stubborn. You just had to go after him on your own, he'd blame himself.

Now he keeps having this recurring dream; he's being chased by something in some woods, and he keeps running. He wants to ask for help, he really does but his mouth won't open. Then he gets to a lake, takes his shoes off, throws them in the lake and takes two steps on the water. Some days that does it, he feels like the thing is no longer chasing him. But most days he wakes up before he can feel he's lost the thing chasing him.

Tonight he's holding a wounded fox in his hands, attacked by bigger animals, in the midst of escaping. The poor thing looks at him with kind, almost human, eyes. He feels its little heart pounding fast on its chest, the little animal feels familiar. He knows this fox from somewhere else. How else would it let him hold it? Why else would he stop running, too guilty to leave it alone? He feels ashamed of running away, but he has to. He's too scared to be there, he doesn't know what makes him so afraid to leave the poor animal on its own. None of this was real, there was nothing following him, he's never seen what's after him. So why couldn't he stay with the fox?

This night he wakes up sweating, agitated and with his heart kicking his ribs. He immediately kicks off the covers, and takes off his shirt when he feels the cotton starts to itch and stick to his skin. He knows he should try to calm himself down before he wakes you up, you had to be up in a few hours.

"Jay?" You slur, barely a whisper.

"Sorry my love," He apologizes, looking back to you rubbing your eyes "I'll go sleep on the couch"

"mmm, stay" you hum, still groggy with sleep but a hand of yours reaches out for him "bed's too cold"

He takes your hand in his before cuddling back next to you under the covers, limbs getting tangled together once again. And before he knows it he's got his head on your chest as you wrap your legs around him to keep him close.

"Where'd your shirt go?" You mumble, hands softly going across the expanse of his back.

"You complaining?" He teases to distract you and it works because you shake your head no with blushed cheeks. His hands sneaked under your clothes to hold you in a way that was almost a tradition now. He'd reach for your skin just to feel you there, to make sure you're safe and next to him and you weren't some hallucination he'd made up in his loneliness. If Jason had to he'd die and come again, crawling out of his coffin if it only meant he'd get to hold you like this one more time.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask

"About what?" He hums, too comfortable in your embrace to even be bothered with remembering what he was so stressed about.

"Why you are awake" There's a beat of silence after the sentence has come out of your mouth. The only thing that can be heard is the city's never-sleeping traffic in the distance. He doesn't want to burden you with something as measly as a dream, so what if it made him wake up in a sweat? It made no sense so he had no reason to be upset.

"Had a bad dream, wasn't really a nightmare..." He confesses after the silence." 's stupid go back to sleep"

"It's not stupid, tell me about it"

"Baby" He sighs, hoping he sounds pissed off enough for you to drop the subject.

"What? A dream can be your subconscious trying to get something you can't when you're awake"

"Mine must hate me"

"It doesn't, but it may want something youre not aware of"

"Since when do you know so much about dreams? Nerd" He teases, nuzzling his head to you. Realizing you're just as stubborn as him, he accepts defeat and tells you about his dream, "There's a thing chasing me and I'm running through some woods"

"What's the thing?" You ask

"I don't know" He scoffs, quick to dismiss it.

"Just think about it," You hike your leg higher up his waist and squeeze him closer to you if it was possible. "how did it feel?"

Tangling himself with you to the point where he can't tell where you end is where he feels like he can be vulnerable. Only when it feels like he might just become one with you he can let his guard completely down. So he sighs and takes a moment to do what you ask. He knows damn well what is after him, he's always known.

"Me, I think," He hides his face even further into your chest."my feelings"

You only hum in response, so he asks "Is it hard to love me?"

Now you understand where the dream came from. The moment he connected the thing chasing him with its meaning awoke an insecurity, something he was trying to keep buried down. So you waste no time in your reply.

"Loving someone has never come easier to me"

He finally lifts his head up, big blue eyes swelling up with tears. He looked so helpless but at the same time so full of devotion for you. He's loved, you love him, so it must mean that he can be. If he's deserving of your love, your selfless and pure love, then he's not unlovable. He kisses your jaw, and then your neck hearing a soft sigh of his name coming out of your lips. Knowing he's handed you his own heart in a silver platter, that he is yours to do as you please, Jason can rest at ease that you'd never harm him.

"Why do you ask?" You don't let yourself get distracted by his kisses.

"It's just that-" He sighs, maybe he can be vulnerable one more time with you. So he fights against the need to push you away and tries to find the right words "Don't think anyone's ever felt that with me, ever"

"Jay, your father became a henchman to provide for you," you point out, holding his face with both of your hands "Catherine raised you like her own, and believe it or not Bruce loves you, even if he's too emotionally constipated to show it"

He scoffs at that last part, blinking away the tears brimming his eyes, which, in your opinion, made them look shiny like a tainted glass panel in a church.

"Your older brother, loves you too, he calls me to see how you're doing every other week 'cause you won't answer him" You continue, "So does Alfred"

"Let's go back to sleep, okay?" He stops you; the sudden reality check is much more than what he could process at the moment. He's been so deep into his own thoughts, what he believed to be truth, that he didn't even bother to see it from a different perspective.

"You didn't even tell me what happened in your dream" You insist with a pout.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, I'm sorry I kept you up"

"I'm not" You smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips. A hand cups your cheek, making the kiss longer. You know that if he was on a better mood he would've said something along the lines of it not being a proper kiss. You giggle against his lips, and Jason just wonders how was he ever able to function without you.

[inkblotsinkblots-alt]

My experience with [band]

My experience with [band] and [band]'s management starts in April 2022. I had emailed the band's business email that used to be in their bio in December 2021, and in April 2022 I got a response. I had been asked if I was available within the next couple of weeks to come down to Brighton and do a photo shoot with the band. Management really liked my work, and wanted to work with me. I was asked to provide my rates and any expenses that would incur. I had asked if I would be at least credited for these images on social media (tagged etc ...), and management said that they could not commit to that at that time. This photo shoot did not happen.

I worked with [band] for the first and only time in January 2023 and photographed / videoed their set.

I was completely blindsided by the fact that this could’ve been a huge opportunity for me, and it could change my career completely. When I got the email inviting me to work with the band, I screamed and actually worried my parents for a few minutes. I agreed to terms that I shouldn’t have (not a full written agreement, but various statements in emails). In hindsight I had no clue what some of them meant (and I think the band’s management knew that).

There was no formal contract, only emails. The band would own my photos 'in perpetuity' and when I asked what that meant, they (management) said that 'the band have the freedom to use them however they please'. Making money off of my photos, and putting them on merch that they would then sell out of, was not mentioned. I was under the impression they would only be using the photos on social media as I did not get any clarification, even though I asked for it. I wanted to press for a more detailed answer, but I was afraid that I'd lose the job.

This was never about the money that I'd potentially make from having my photos on merch, it's that I didn't even know it was happening. I was also 'allowed' to upload '3-4' photos to my social media from the gig, even though they were my photos. I was stupid enough to agree with this. Again, I felt as though if I challenged this I would lose the job.

At the end of the show in January 2023 I was promised at least a couple of shows on the upcoming tour, as '[I was] great to work with. Such a pleasure.' I have no evidence that I was offered shows during that tour as it was said to me in person. I was then let down at the beginning of March (after multiple follow up emails) with 'I don't think there is the additional need for your services also' when I asked about discussing the tour. I was devastated.

I was offered photo passes* to subsequent Manchester gigs and I took them as they had no strings attached, and the band would not own my images (that's why you've seen a lot of them on my socials).

I met a bunch of well-known creators, musicians and photographers while working with [band] and they were all so very sweet. Some of which I am still in contact with today, and some I am good friends with. I am very grateful for this.

I fully support Shelby, she is so incredibly brave for talking about her experiences, and it's because of her bravery that I felt confident enough to share my experience - although very different in nature.

I fully believe that [band]’s management wanted to take advantage of fans who wanted to photograph [band]’s gigs. And pay them as little as possible with no consistency in pay between photographers or how many photos they were allowed to post. (This is my own opinion)

I am not the only one that has had a negative experience with [band] and their management as a photographer / creative, but those are not my stories to tell and if they want to comment then they will. Please don't speculate on who these people are or harass them on social media, they have every right to not want to talk about their experiences. Please respect everyone involved.

Massive love, take care of yourselves.

am

(*Photo passes are offered to press photographers and non-touring photographers. They shoot the first three songs from the photo pit and then leave. Either to go into the crowd for the rest of the gig, or leave the gig entirely.)

please do not edit this post or reblog, do not take screenshots and post this on twitter or any other social media platform, thank you.

[holybibly]

Omg 6th of april is my birthday!! It would be fun to have your fic as a present but I'm also very impatient and I'd read your fic right away if you were to post it on monday

Oh, baby, I just couldn't resist making you happy. Something spicy and tasty for my April Bunny.

You had been in this position for a long time—the thick red threads burning through your delicate skin as you hung like a beautiful work of art in the middle of the sumptuous imperial chambers. Creating his own unique erotic pattern of pleasure and pain, the Emperor personally tightened every intricate knot on your body. The line between these sensations was too blurry in your mind for there to be any separation. Behind the tightly closed golden doors of the Emperor's chambers, no one would ever know. You were in his power, belonging to him alone - vulnerable and subservient - just as he wanted you to be.

San was humming softly as he walked around you, examining you from head to toe in the manner of a predator studying his prey. You could feel the weight and hardness of his dark gaze on your naked body, but that wasn't enough for San - he wanted to skin you and get to your very soul, peeling away layer after layer of luxurious, silky flesh. He leaned in closer to you and looked at the nasty, blood-red marks left by the intricately woven threads, the jagged, blackened lines that were digging into your skin. It was a strange act of the power he had over you: This is mine, I say this wordlessly. 

You were in pain, the tight ropes wrapped around your body like the most elaborate and exquisite torture. Yet your heart was pounding in your chest with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. You tried to calm your breathing, afraid of upsetting Emperor San with your behaviour. Otherwise, instead of leaving his chamber as a 'golden' concubine, your corpse would be carried out of here in the morning.

"You are so beautiful..." He whispered as he ran his fingers over your face, his touch fleeting and too light for you to be able to savour it to the full. Nothing could have prepared you for the hard, sharp slap that landed on your bottom, causing a short cry to escape your throat. You trembled. The Emperor had kept you here for so long, toying with you like a cat with a mouse. 

San would dig his nails into your skin, leaving behind rough, possessive scratches that would make you squirm and writhe in your exquisite rope cage. San's moods were always too unpredictable - loving you, hating you, wanting to fuck you one moment, wanting to chop your head off the next. It was a real surprise when you were invited to his chambers tonight, because you could never tell what he wanted. But you knew that word had probably got around - you have a taste for pain. Just like him.

San pulled on one of the many red ropes and lifted you higher into the air, causing your posture to change to a horizontal position. His hand cupped your chin and lifted your head so that you were looking into his eyes. 

He ran his tongue slowly over your plump lower lip, tilting your head to the side in an almost childish motion, as if considering the possibilities of what he wanted to do to you. You sobbed, not knowing how much longer you would be able to endure the Emperor's game.

"Don't move, love." San murmured, the hoarse, guttural sound of his voice vibrating against your skin. He leaned against you again, and this time he kissed you hard on the mouth. The kiss was dirty and wet, but so hot that it made you feel like you were burning up. 

The Emperor's golden silk robe falls to the floor and spreads out at his feet, exposing his chiseled body as San slides his silk trousers down his thighs and pulls out his hard, thick cock; on his massive girth, the veins are clearly visible, as are drops of shiny pre-cum on the swollen head. 

The seductive sight makes you lick your lips and open your mouth to receive the Emperor's cock, but instead of a treat, you get a sharp slap in the face. It stings, but it is worth it for the little sparks of excitement that spread across your flushed skin from the blow.

"You'll have to ask for permission, my love." San snarls, clenching his fingers tightly around your chin. 

"Please, my Emperor. Please..." Your voice trembles, either from the cold air that fills the Emperor's chambers or from the anticipation of pleasure.

San's lips curve into a devilish grin as he strokes the head of his cock over your lips, coating them with a viscous, clear liquid before sliding it into your waiting, warm mouth. He groans quietly as you circle the head of his cock with your tongue, stroking the velvety skin and capturing the bitter pre-cum in your mouth. 

"Good girl..." He purrs as he tangles his fingers in your long, black hair. Your exquisite hairstyle has long since been turned into a disheveled mess. 

San pushes his cock deeper into your mouth until the thick head rests against the back of your throat. You swallow, letting him push deeper. He hisses as he grabs a tighter hold of the strands of your hair and pulls on them a little, making you moan and sending vibrations up and down the length of his cock.

"Do it again, sweetheart." San orders as he pulls your mouth down the length of his massive cock until your nose is pressed against the hot skin of his pubic. You do as you're told and swallow around him again, the walls of your throat clenching delightfully as you try to hold his thick cock captive in your hot throat.

"Fuck." The Emperor's voice is like a big cat's as his hips begin to move—rough and deep thrusts that create a relentless rhythm as he fucks your mouth. 

Tears well up in your eyes, but you dare not fight back, allowing yourself to be used the way the Emperor wants you to be used. 

You were completely helpless as the San continued to ram his wiry cock down your throat. The thick weave of ropes was the only thing holding you still as your body rocked with each powerful thrust of his muscular thighs. His golden skin was glistening with the sweat that was dripping down between the tight muscles of his abs.

The saliva was dripping down the sides of your mouth, along with a large amount of his pre-cum, but it only seemed to excite San even more. You could feel the throbbing of his cock on your tongue as its velvety length slid down with each thrust. Your moans rumbled around him, stimulating him even more. Soon the Emperor came out of your mouth, leaving thick strands of cum on your face, marking you as belonging to him. 

San grinned at the sight of your face covered in the milky goo of his cum. The smile on his face looked almost sinister in the golden flame of the candles. 

San used two fingers to collect a large amount of his cum from your lips and put it in your mouth, smearing it on his tongue as he did so. He watched with pleasure as you eagerly sucked on his fingers in the hope of more. The sharp blade of the knife glinted in the dim light of the room, cutting the red ropes that held you aloft, and your body landed with a thud on the soft feathered bedding of his mattress. The erotic pattern of the ropes still bound your body, so San still had you under his control like a puppet.

The Emperor turned you over and pressed your back against the scarlet silk sheets. Your long hair blew across the fabric like a black fan. Before your body had a chance to relax, a sharp slap came down on your sensitive, wet cunt, causing your entire body to curve in the bloody tangle of threads that were wrapped around you. San laughed loudly and threw his head back, revealing his sweet dimples as jets of fluid squirt from your pussy and flooded the silk sheets beneath you. 

"It's true what they say, isn't it, darling? You like the pain so much that you can come without being touched, just for the sensation of it." He slides two fingers inside your cunt, circling around the sensitive walls, and gives you another sharp slap. The double stimulation sends new streams of fluid spurting out of you. 

You squirm under his caress and try to squeeze your legs together, but the ropes won't let you do it.

In one swift motion, San cuts the rope that is holding your legs together and spreads them wide open, exposing your pink pussy to his hungry gaze. He spits on your cunt, enjoying the way his saliva drips down between your quivering folds and mixes with your juices. 

"Are you as delicious as you look, Jewel?" His mouth presses greedily against your pussy, his tongue sliding between your folds, and his devilishly curved lips sucking enthusiastically on your sensitive clit. San lets out a soft moan as his tongue plunges into your hole, lapping up your juices like a cat hungry for cream. 

You shudder with pleasure, arching your back and pressing your pussy against his face as the Emperor flicks the tip of his tongue along the swollen bundle of nerves. The thought of the Great Emperor San eating your pussy as if it were his only purpose in life would have been unthinkable this morning. But here you are, lying on his luxurious silken bed, surrounded by the gold of his chamber, caressed by his strong hands and skilled tongue. San was an experienced lover who knew how to give his partner the most sophisticated and violent of pleasures. 

"Your Majesty, I feel so good. You feel like heaven. Ah." You were no longer able to hold back the loud moans and pleas that were coming from your throat. You moaned, your legs shaking slightly as San ran his tongue along the long strip from your hole to your clit, before his teeth scratched it as he began to suck again. "Please, my Emperor... nmmm."

Ignoring your whimpering and the way your body was shaking and writhing, San continued to lick your cunt. Insatiable, he sucked, licked, and rubbed his tongue over your quivering, oozing hole, moaning and purring at your taste. 

As soon as San was satisfied enough, he would pull away from your cunt, leaving you to whimper in longing at the loss of his tongue. But the feeling of frustration quickly disappeared as his thick, wiry cock entered you, making you scream with pleasure as he penetrated you at the very base. The feeling of being stretched was searing, San's cock too big for your unprepared cunt, thick throbbing veins rubbing against your tender flesh with every movement. 

You felt so stuffed. So full. It made you feel as if you belonged to your emperor. 

San didn't wait a second before he started the move, right from the start with a hard, fast pace. His strong thighs pressed against yours each time his cock entered you, the large head hitting your cervix with each powerful, deep thrust. The sound of the blows against your skin was an echo through his golden chambers. As he quickened his pace to fuck you even harder, his breathing became heavy and his voice husky and low. 

"You are mine!" San growled as he wrapped his fingers around your throat and squeezed it tightly, effectively cutting off your supply of oxygen. Tears streamed from your eyes, and your vision went dark as you felt yourself fall into a deep abyss of pleasure that was mixed with pain. Every part of your body was on fire, as was your mind. "You belong to me, my love." He loosened his grip on your throat for a few seconds to allow you to breathe, but it was only a moment before his grip tightened again, the gold ring on his finger digging into the back of your neck, leaving a rough crimson trail behind it. 

The Emperor's cock dragged deliciously along the silken walls of your body, causing you to clench around it. You begin to drool, saliva dripping down your chin as San leans down to your face to lick your mouth as his hips begin to fuck you from a different angle, the head of his cock now rubbing deliciously against your G-spot.

Your orgasm rages through you like an all-consuming flame, destroying every conscious part of you and leaving you boneless. You wriggle underneath him, your legs shaking violently as you unconsciously wrap them around his slender, slutty waist. You start to squirt again, copious jets of fluid splashing around San's cock as he continues to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. His pace slows, his thrusts become hard and short, and you come again. This time you feel the emperor's hot, thick cum staining your tender walls white.

San rests his forehead on your shoulder to catch his breath, sweat dripping from his hair onto your skin, before he pulls away from you and slowly pulls his cock out of your used pussy. He stretches out like a big cat before he bends down to give you a deep kiss. 

"You really are a little jewel, darling. I think I'll keep you all to myself." His dark, piercing eyes sparkle with malevolence and seem to be the repository of all human sin. "Let's go take a bath, my love."

San rises from the bed, snaps his fingers, and the servants waiting outside the door immediately begin to prepare a bath for the two of you. You're still a little lost after your orgasm; your body aches, and now the ropes wrapped around you cause more discomfort than pleasure. But you look up at the Emperor with a look of utter adoration and admiration, admiring the way the muscles of his back move under the golden, wet skin. 

"As you wish, my Emperor."

[brynn-lear]

LOCKED AND LOADED [Yandere!Wanderer x Reader]

Prompt: The world is about to end. How will you grieve when you're forced to be with a miserable man until the last second? [Dedicated To: @mixed-kester for the Alone Together Event]

Content Tags: yandere!scaramouche "fluff" oneshot (yes, there are no other parts:]), major persona 3 spoilers but you DON’T need to know the game before reading this since everything is explained, improper use of a S.E.E.S evoker /j, Scaramouche is so normal about you, UNRELIABLE NARRATOR, major character death/s–

V. Acceptance.

"Where the hell are you, (Y/n)?"

Standing near what should have been the front doors of his university was a short man with dark purple hair. He leaned precariously against them, his head tilted upward as if the sickly green moon's ominous pull was nothing to be afraid of. Gekkoukan University's nearby dorms– fraternity and sorority houses included– are not usually this silent. Instead of people, coffins were aligned perpendicular to the ground.

The wanderer glanced at his watch with mild interest. He had been waiting for a while now. Your guest hoisted himself up, circling the ground with the tip of his shoe. The baseline of his attitude had always defaulted to irritability and passive-aggressiveness. The vertically aligned hour-and-minute hands do not placate it. The timing itself makes it worse.

It's December 31st, 2009, 12 AM– the Dark Hour.

With a harsh sneer, he pocketed his hands. You usually have the door to the Velvet Room open to him whenever. What's the big deal? Were you seriously THAT mad at him? Really? He didn't do anything to warrant this "pettiness". He had never known silence as much as this moment.

You should've accounted for the hostility that proceeds on the "off-chance" he did arrive early.

His tone darkened, his bloodied hands gripping his S.E.E.S evoker tightly.

"If you don’t show up, I will cleanse the world of human emotion all by myself"

You shook from afar, afraid of how he wouldn't hesitate to make his threat a reality. He had already taken so much– you were beyond mad at him. You were terrified. Wronged. Abused. You didn't want to step into the light. Much worse, step into his shadow.

The worst thing evil can do is to turn you into one of them.

He clutched the bloodied yellow scarf in his hands tightly.

Why did this happen?

How did things END up like this?

IV. Depression.

You took a deep breath and charged forward.

You don't trust [Wanderer] ever since Ryoji told him about the impending apocalypse.

Seldom do you leave the Velvet Room. You weren't hiding in the Velvet room months before the end of the world was imminent. When April had only reached its fourth day, there was nothing you wanted more than to spend time outside. So ignominiously innocent. You did not know who [Wanderer] was and how much effect he would have on your life at the time. You were just tired of the ongoing stream of uneventfulness.

And now here you are, berating the protagonist in full.

"[Wanderer], why is Ryoji missing?! US ATTENDANTS CAN'T FIND TRACK HIM ANYWHERE!!!"

With a fistful of his university uniform, you yanked him by the collar. Your eyes were livid as you reeled your composure. This wasn't what you had in mind when you were "isekai"d into a video game. Out of any game, why did it have to be Persona 3? And out of anyone that could be a protagonist, why did it have to be HIM?!

You thought this would be a grand affair... Whatever they spun in anime back when your reality existed were pure lies. Where are the scenic views? The mountains? The grasslands? This plane of existence you're forced to sit through for eternity was far from the RPG fantasy people would hope for. No closer you could ever be to paradise.

In fact, this man is threatening to ruin said paradise.

[Wanderer] pulled your hands away forcefully. His glare was not that different from yours. "Why do you care about him so much?"

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it's because his death means forgetting everything?!" You clenched your empty fists. "You know damn well what happens if he dies! You'll lose all the help you can get to stopping the Fall!"

Such a heavy weight on your shoulders but the protagonist doesn't care. This may be a turn-based game– but it wasn't based on you. If it was, you wouldn't be screaming your heart out at him! You wouldn't be an NPC. Hell, you'd probably be a better protagonist than him.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed every stress out of your system.

"Listen—" You rubbed your temple. "You need to start forming bonds. Social links. Support system. Confidants. Whatever you want to call it. You were supposed to have the answer by now as to what life is for."

[Wanderer] remained silent throughout your spiels. His facial expression alone was enough to infer immense disinterest. You were mindlessly doing your job. There will be no tirade or physical aggression that can convince him that you believe in your assertions with full conviction.

"Do you want to see him?"

"Yes! Of course. Knowing you, you're—"

"Tempted to kill him because you think I want the world to end?"

"Obviously."

That's where you're wrong.

A nihilistic man can have other reasons to commit murder.

"But if he's missing, you can forget about him, right?"

"What on earth are you talking about?!"

[Wanderer] turned around. "Meet me later, you know the time."

"I'll show you where Ryoji is."

III. Bargaining.

XX/09/2009

He doesn't recall the time he was brought into this world like you had.

Puppets are malleable. Memories are easy to overwrite when your body is held together by white wood and "khemia". His past evades him.

Maybe it's better this way.

He took you to Chagall Café. Although it was your first time out in a long while, he had no qualms about ignoring your questions. He feigned deafness as you asked about the news, his college life, friends, or anything related to what was happening in 2009. And he even ignored your humble request to buy the cheapest coffee for you. Instead, he bought you a chocolate frappe.

"For Elizabeth's cutest little sibling." He said, sarcastically copying Elizabeth's tone as he sharply handed the drink. "Wouldn't want everyone's darling to get a caffeine addiction."

Thanks, asshat.

Of all his offensive behavior— he really spent more money just to insult you. You shook your head and accepted it. It's the most expensive one on the menu too. What dedication to being a hater. But before you could open your wallet, he shot your payment down.

"Just take it." He smirked. "Look at you, paying me back for treating you poorly. Are you a masochist?"

You immediately shoved your money back in. "You still bought me a free drink, so really, who's the loser here? Prick."

[Wanderer] laughed heartily before he pulled out his battered codal, which had underlined texts for provisions he deemed important. There was a momentary softness in his gaze that disappeared in an instant.

But that's the only conversation he planned on having that evening. He did mention he'll drag you out in his study session so you weren't too shocked by it. Instead, you sat and awkwardly people-watched. The world you came from and this one were identical. You got through your old 2009 just fine— it's just that Tatsumi Port Island was not a real location from your original Japan.

Your memories about the video game Persona aren't very clear since you reincarnated in the game, but the red band [Wanderer] wore on his sleeve affirmed that he is the leader of S.E.E.S. It's nice to know that someone like him has the potential to become a leader.

[Wanderer] appeared wholly immersed in his studies.

…

Maybe he wouldn't notice if you looked around—

…?!

He immediately grabbed your hand. You yelped slightly as you noticed the iron grip he had.

"Where are you going?"

Don't leave him.

He squeezed just a bit more tightly.

"W-What the— I'm just going to the bathroom." You felt a shiver down your spine as you shared his gaze. There's a dull coldness to it you couldn't quite place, as if he had been a witness to injustice, sevenfold.

You quietly sat back down. He still hasn't let go of your hand.

"Good riddance." He muttered.

"If it isn't [Wanderer]!"

You turned around, yanking your hand away.

It's Ryoji.

You stood up, gawking.

"W-Woah, are you okay?" Ryoji asked, hurriedly approaching you. While you were frozen in place, [Wanderer] looked at his empty hand, feeling your warmth escape his fingertips.

G-Good… he's still alive.

You thought [Wanderer] killed him.

[Wanderer] is the wildcard, and that's a terrifying factor to consider. He hasn't shown any interest in humanity. Knowing his past has not increased any hope on your end. Everyone else in his eyes are insignificant insects.

He has the power to end Ryoji.

He has the power to end this world.

Locked and loaded.

Ryoji's eyes softened. "Wait, I think I know a beautiful face like yours from somewhere… You must be [Wanderer]'s attendant, (Y/n), right?"

You blinked.

"Wait, how did you…"

He chuckled, taking and placing a soft kiss on your gloved hands.

"I have my ways." Ryoji winked.

"Don't touch them." [Wanderer] sneered.

Ryoji stood up straight, unfazed by his threatening tone. You took a moment to examine his appearance. He had a lot of white clothing and a big yellow scarf around his neck. Just below his left eye is a mole. On the surface, he appeared quite human, but everyone seated at this table was aware of his true nature.

He is the 13th arcana. The appraiser.

You and [Wanderer] have every right to be wary.

"I'm Ryoji Mochizuki. It's nice to be officially introduced to you, Mx. (Y/n)."

"Ryoji Mochizuki…" You tasted the syllables.

"Oh? Who knew hearing my name from your lips makes it sound so wonderful."

"C-Cut it out, you don't mean that." You said, a little flustered.

[Wanderer]'s gaze fixated on you, stewing in his concoction of envy and misery. His fists were clenched beneath the table, knuckles turning white. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you continued engaging in conversation with Ryoji. His laughter was grating his ears. He couldn't bear the sight of you engaging with another man, especially someone as flirtatious as him.

Ryoji, sensing [Wanderer]'s distress, shot him a casual glance. To top the look, he paired it with a knowing smirk. He made mental notes of the man's clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.

"You seem a little on edge, [Wanderer]. Finals coming up?" He feigned innocence.

"It's December, and I'm not on edge." He scoffed, trying not to make his gritted teeth evident. "Don't you own a calendar? Finals are in March. To think a pea-brain like you managed to transfer to Gekkan…"

"Right, right." Ryoji smiled, closing his eyes. "Then it must be my proposal you're thinking of."

You stiffened; [Wanderer] did not.

"Ryoji—"

"I know, Mx. (Y/n)." He started. "I know you're not too keen on the idea of killing me. My existence is the affirmation of the Fall. None of you— sorry, I forgot (Y/n) is from the Velvet room— I meant none of them will live till Spring… Or perhaps it's more accurate to say they'll forfeit the will to live."

…

"… I-I'm sorry." Ryoji buried his face in his yellow scarf. There's a certain tremble in his voice that truly emphasizes his sorrow. "Just as all living things die, the flow of time cannot be hindered. But there's comfort in killing me. If you do… you won't have to suffer for the coming days."

If [Wanderer] kills Ryoji, Tartarus, the Dark Hour— the burden of everyone's memories will all disappear.

But [Wanderer] can retain his.

He's not originally from this world after all…

However, should he let him live, the rest of S.E.E.S's life will continue until everyone's inevitable demise.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

[Wanderer] rolled his eyes, diverting his eyes back to his notes. "Everyone will die soon, who cares? I've heard your spiel several times already. You need to get more entertaining material."

"[Wanderer]!" You scolded him.

Your eyes widened in disbelief at [Wanderer]'s unwittingly casual jabs at the apocalypse. You wanted to ask him if he was even listening, but the truth will disappoint you. A cold sweat formed on your brow.

Ryoji's smile crooked into a hopeless one.

"You depend on (Y/n) too much."

[Wanderer] froze. "What did you say…?"

"You have a group of people around you, eager to establish a bond— eager to be friends with you. You have met Junpei, Yukari, Mitsuru, Akihiko, Fuuka, and many others– but you don't consider any of them as your friends." Ryoji shook his head. "Instead, you spend your time with just (Y/n). Never anyone else. Just them. To the point that I think it's unhealthy."

"I don't care for humans." He replied immediately.

"You're human too, [Wanderer]." Ryoji shot back. "You're made of blood, bones, and flesh."

[Wanderer] fell silent. What Ryoji said was true, and yet…

"Am I?" He laughed.

The sound was hollow and mechanical. Deprived of genuine mirth. It did not sound forced, yet his eyes were dull.

…

Perhaps he lived as a puppet for so long that the idea of being human has yet to reach him.

Ryoji shifted, uncomfortably glancing between you two. The tension was palpable despite the cafe's peaceful ambiance. Ryoji cleared his throat softly.

"I should leave…" He trailed off, voice slightly wavering. His eyes darted around, scrambling for words to say. "But, um, before I leave, I just want to say again that you need to give it some more thought, [Wanderer]... It's a big deal… Just…"

Ryoji sighed. "Remember to make your choice to spare or kill me by December 31st. I'm glad you're having fun but don't get too distracted with (Y/n). I'll be waiting."

That being said, his footsteps reverberated loudly in the otherwise still room as he turned and headed for the door. He dared to turn back as he grabbed for the doorknob and saw you two sharing a look that he couldn't determine if it was one of contemplation or displeasure. He hurried out and the cafe door shut behind him.

"Happy?" [Wanderer] bitterly asked.

You paused for a moment… then grinned.

"Tsk, what are you laughing at, worm?"

"Nothing, nothing!" You shrugged. "I just thought that for a guy with a stick up his ass, you're cute when you're jealous."

That riled [Wanderer] up in an instant.

You do not know the full extent of his envy's filth.

"I am NOT—" He stopped, realizing how counterproductive it would be. "Whatever. I don't care."

"Uhuh?"

"Shut up and finish your damn chocolate!"

II. Anger.

Before you know it, it's April.

"Seriously, you three, I'm bored as fuck! Can't I just take a stroll outside?" You yelled, waving the heavy persona compendium in the air as your sisters ignored you.

It hasn't been long since you reincarnated, so your right to go outside isn't as liberal. Given the impending threat of an apocalypse, the Velvet Room attendants are especially overprotective.

"(Y/n), dear sibling, watch your mouth! You mustn't let Igor or Nameless hear you speak so vulgarly."

Taking a good look at your new "siblings", you've noticed how almost everyone was present. Margaret sat elegantly on the sofa while Theodore & Elizabeth were doing their best to calm you down. It's almost rare to have all three in one place. The three oldest were busy-bodies who had more eccentric matters they devoted their attention to. Including rapping and dancing, though neither performances are good for your senses.

"If boredom plagues you, then you should try teasing Theodore." Elizabeth yawned. "He's easy pickings."

"Sister!" Theodore pouted. "Shouldn't (Y/n) focus on studying how fusing works? It would be a better use of their time…"

"The day (Y/n)'s new wildcard learns the value of social links might just be the day miserly politicians become generous." Elizabeth shrugged.

You paled, tugging her sleeve. "Oh fuck… Am I screwed?"

She gave you a lopsided smile. "I may be your new sibling but that does not mean I am obliged to resolve your problems, (Y/n). Learn to solve this on your own."

Theodore coughed.

"Please, stop scaring them, sister Elizabeth. It's not their fault this new guest is a cruel arbiter. I fear there will not be a second of groundless joy in store for them…"

"You're not helping me relax either! Motherfucker. Can't you two speak normally?"

"Settle down, all of you."

The four of you stood straight as Igor tilted his chin up. Though you've gotten used to his bloodshot gaze, it had a way of prickling your skin this time around. With his signature smile, he closed his eyes and snapped his fingers.

"Our guest is about to enter."

"W-Wait, RIGHT NOW?!?"

Before you could react, the room transformed into what appeared to be a large elevator. The walls were barred and creaking noises began to subtly make their presence. A floating door materialized, and soon, opened.

Dark purple hair and eyes, short frame, soft face.

"…Hmm?"

You blinked.

"Wait, no way…"

You know him.

Of course, you know him.

"Everyone, meet [Wanderer]."

You decided that you two should reintroduce yourselves and forget that the past ever happened.

For now, you had been gifted with a vital role: being the protagonist's attendant.

According to your Igor, your role is to assist your guest in fusing personas. He had chosen you specifically in advance as you are his "anima/animus figure". Initially, that job was for Elizabeth. However, your beliefs, your intuition, your emotions— they're in perfect tune with [Wanderer]. Igor expects you to facilitate their spiritual and psychological growth and implore them to interact more with others.

Which, based on that alone, sounds like this puppet just hired an unpaid therapist.

"What do you want?"

"Well…"

Since you became [Wanderer]'s attendant, you've started to have thicker skin. He will always make his crankiness known each visit. You're slightly grateful for it, for how else would you know patience otherwise? Though his personality rubs you the wrong way, his strength does have merits you cannot ignore. Even Belladona, the Velvet Room's devout singer, had sung praises for his mettle. There was one line that struck you about her song, something about him being like a puppet with a beating heart unbeknownst to himself…

Which is why you thought you might as well try to see if you could convince him to take you out sometimes.

"What, like a date?" [Wanderer] scoffed then smirked, a light blush on his face. "Are you really that desperate?"

"No, eww—" You rolled your eyes. "I meant it literally. Igor and the others wouldn't let me go outside unless I'm with someone they trust."

He looked away and covered his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly.

"Like a child?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up." You deadpanned, your pride slightly chipped. "Like a child or whatever you want to see it, as long as it gets me out of here. I just want to see the world before it all…"

You paused.

Better not to bring it up. You're not sure if Igor told him yet.

[Wanderer] raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"

You shrugged. "Is money not enough?"

He paused.

…

"You've got to be kidding me— Fine, what else do you want?"

His eyelids lowered, hissing slightly. "Evil expects evil from others, huh? I wasn't trying to think of anything more, but now that I think about it…"

"Oh, great."

"… I can take your request," he pointed at you. "But only if you join me in the library. Anywhere else, especially loud places like clubs, I'll send your ass back."

That's a no-brainer.

"Deal!"

Though you've missed the peculiar sight, [Wanderer] had a small smile on his face as you shook hands. The two of you had become nearly inseparable since then.

Worryingly, he's closer to you than other humans.

The only relationship he needed was with you.

And with what little time this world has left, you hope you could have a last cup of coffee with him…

I. Denial.

Your reality crumbled. What a START.

Your family, friends... all gone. No one was left. You convince yourself you "deserved" this punishment for smoking a life away with dreadful workloads, no matter how untrue it was. When the world burnt down, you were sent into a darkness you had not known before.

The person in charge of your reincarnation process told you that for the next few minutes, you and a selected companion will see your lives flash before your eyes in a void— and it will not necessarily be a comforting sight.

But you woke up relaxed. In an abyss filled with broken mirrors meant to depict your character to pieces, you donned a plain expression. There was not an inch of you that grieved for what was lost. Similarly, you had no care for how you were being transmigrated to another realm. Though you had grown accustomed to this isolation, humanity always struggled with silence. There was ringing on your fingers. When you unclasped your hands, you saw a pointed shard. Curiously, you clenched it. But no matter the tightness of your grip, no blood came out.

Your breath fogged up the glass. You wondered why that Memokeeper told you that you deserve to live on. You thought your life was rather unremarkable.

Makes sense. You thought to yourself. I'd rather pride myself on a boring life with integrity than an ambitious yet fraudulent one.

「Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Was that all your life was...? Then tell me, little (Y/n), why does the mirror in front of you appear distorted?」

And so, you gazed forward. Your reflection stood tall, larger than your life, and it beckoned you to come closer. This "(Y/n) (L/n)" had the opposite of a Cheshire grin- perhaps a caricature- perhaps an accurate depiction. Wearied of yourself and wearied of the sycophantic students around you. How unhappy are you to see yourself as someone like this? Are these the emotions you wish to be preserved? Is this the memory you want your world to be remembered by?

「These memories must be corrupted. Someone must be tampering with them. I do not think you lived a miserable life.」

I can't answer your questions either. But I think that reflection is who I am, because sometimes...

"I wish I had never been born at all."

Your lips were parted, but no sound came out. You resonated with those words, but they did not come from you. The voice was dark, hopeless, and alone.

When you were being sent off, you thought no one was around to greet you. There was another man. He had short hair and purple eyes- an incredibly rare sight in your world. This man seemed to be gazing at his reflection as well. You needn't know how he saw himself. The emptiness in his eyes did not differ from yours. He, too, was masking isolation as independence with an intense fragility. The dread he inflicted upon you was the closest you've ever gotten to facing your own perceived "weakness".

His memories were a mixbag. Some were filled with domestic bliss, but the anger in his heart triumphed more. He had friends but thought himself betrayed. His heart was constructed through a system of evasions, and he was a specialist in self-deception. This man knew little of emotions but had an abundance of it. It's no wonder he refused to sacrifice the artistry of his vengeance against humanity. You can sympathize with how he could not attach himself to those around him. He was burdened with malicious knowledge. Fakes. Lies. Insincerities. A class of his own.

However, he had a sin you cannot empathize with. A trait you can read that you're certain he had never noticed about himself.

He was a sickeningly beautiful man with a peculiar innocence.

He looked like a man who truly did not live in the real world.

This man did not feel real to you. He felt made-up. Fictional. His aura of flawlessness appalled you. Though you shared the same sentiments, you thought him dimensionless.

Yet this is supposedly your first meeting.

「Is it? Where have you seen him before? Can't you remember, dear (Y/n)?」

No. No, I can't.

「... What a shame. Worry no more, little (Y/n). Close your eyes. When you wake up, you will meet your new reality— new realm— new family.」

You nodded and agreed to a higher existence you did not believe in. Unlike others, you were a little bit more incapable of trusting a living soul. But there's no other choice.

Life is ordinarily far from anyone's control in the first place. Why bother fighting? If following can make her fuck off, it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

Wait…

Is that…

Scaramouche?

Before you closed your eyes and accepted your fate, you could've sworn...

He looked at you with a crooked grin.

「Thou art I... And I am thou...

Thou hast established a new bond...

Thou shalt be blessed when creating

Personas of the Universe Arcana..."」

"Hmm. Strange… Is that truly the order of the story?"

A woman stared at you.

Not (Y/n) (L/n).

YOU.

BEHIND.

THE.

SCREEN.

She smiled wryly.

Hate might empower you for a short while, but it comes at the cost of consuming you whole. Should a shard or any surface reflect [Wanderer]'s face, he would understand what he had become. However, it's too late. He had made his choice and stomped away any remorse he could have. When all is said and done, he alone will spread the ashes. He alone will stand. A blank slate.

[Wanderer] spent his life looking for scapegoats and ended up removing his responsibility.

Betrayals?

What a sad, sad puppet.

What a poor excuse to justify an entire apocalypse.

A poor excuse of a man.

"THE ARCANA IS THE MEANS BY WHICH ALL IS REVEALED." She muttered softly. "And you have been reading your story in REVERSE. Perhaps this is the only way this world can attain SALVATION. The chronological order is not a slice of life. You did not have a disagreement and decided to start your relationship over again. Life is far more WICKED."

"Read it again, but from DENIAL to ACCEPTANCE. The proper way to GRIEVE DEATH."

With great reluctance, she took the five cards laid on the table and placed them in an upright position.

"Let's see if you'd rather ACCEPT the truth or live in DENIAL."

Mixed-Kester can now message Wanderer [prior to 12/31/2009]

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLII)

Chapter 42: ‘Love in such a way, as I… love… you.’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some cuteness, some cuteness!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2761

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

If you’re leaving, leave in such a way That no trace of you remains in my soul. If you’re staying, stay in such a way That every corner of my heart Fills and overflows with you… If you love me, love in such a way That I am awed, that, meeting your gaze, For a moment, I vanish from life itself, That I hear no whispers, Distinguish no day from night, Feel warmth in the cold of winter, And coolness in the heat of summer. Love in such a way that my heart Thunders endlessly, and no other smile Can catch my eye as I’m passing by. Love in such a way that I wake up Filled with yearning of seeing you, And when I sleep, it’s only so You will visit me in my dreams. Love in such a way that I lose my mind, Love in such a way that I become drunk… Love in such a way, as I… love… you.

Paruyr Sevak

Andrew was afraid of moving too fast again.

You and Andrew had been dating for almost a year now. You were planning a trip to Galway for your anniversary, you would be staying for two full weeks during the summer. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to have you just for himself, without work, and essays, and students, and colleagues, and family, and friends. It was a little selfish, but you both had busy lives outside your relationship, and he reckoned it would be nice to focus on just the two of you for a few days. You seemed over-excited by the trip as well. It was still several months away, but you were planning already. He had caught you looking up paths for hiking, and sights to see, and restaurants where you could eat.

You were in his bed now, in his old Thin Lizzy t-shirt and your purple pyjama pants, buried under the covers. Your head was still under the blanket, and he smiled at the sight. He could hear you breathing loudly, trying to warm up the bed.

Such a simple gesture, and yet it filled his heart with love. The joy of slipping in a bed warmed by someone else’s body…

He grabbed his book, climbed into bed. You emerged then, shuddering and immediately snuggling close to him, stealing his body heat.

He wrapped an arm around you, bringing you closer.

“It’s so cold tonight! We’re in April, it should be warmer than this!”

“The earth is burning already… let us have a bit of fresh air.”

You pinched his side, unforgiving tonight, and it made him laugh.

“I’m cold,” you complained.

“Do you want one of my hoodies?”

“No… you’re warm.”

“Leave a bit of heat for me though.”

You slipped your hand across his stomach, and then under his t-shirt, bringing your cold fingers to his burning skin. You laughed as he hissed and shifted away.

“You’re so cruel!” he complained while you put your hand back on his chest, on top of his t-shirt.

When you looked at each other, though, there was nothing but love and tenderness in your eyes and in his. He bent down to kiss your forehead, making you close your eyes.

Andrew was afraid of moving too fast again. And yet there you were, in his bed, ready for sleep. You had spent the evening together, had eaten, talked about this trip to Galway, and watched a movie. It was natural for you to stay the night. You hadn’t slept apart in months. Not a single night. It shifted between your place and his but you were always together. Every night he kissed your lips and whispered he loved you before falling asleep, and every morning he opened his eyes to see you.

And he didn’t want it any other way. He wanted this forever, all the time. Every night, every morning.

He wanted to move in with you. He wanted to build a proper home with you, the kind that Sam had always refused with him. But what if you thought it was too soon? What if you didn’t agree? What if you got scared and left him?

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s going on? What’s your busy head thinking?”

You knew him so damn well…

He heaved a sigh.

“I’m just… worrying.”

“About what?”

“Us.”

“Us?”

“I just… I hope… I want…”

He heaved another sigh.

“Never mind…”

“Honey… is there something wrong?”

“No, no… nothing’s wrong. I… I want to ask you something, but I’m afraid you’ll say no.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Is it… a weird fantasy of yours?”

He burst into laughter.

“It’s nothing sexual. And I don’t have ‘weird fantasies’!”

“I don’t know… I could suddenly discover that you have a foot fetish or something…”

“Christ! No, you’re in the clear. I don’t have a foot fetish.”

“Good, I’m reassured. I love you, but I draw the line at you wanting to lick my toes.”

He made a disgusted wince, making both of you laugh for a while, the sound warm and familiar, like home…

You grew more serious again, rubbing soothing circles into his chest.

“What is it, though? That you want to ask me?”

He took a deep breath. It was now or never anyway. God, his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, could you feel that? Could you feel his heart under your fingers? Did you know it was yours anyway?

“I… I was thinking that we could… maybe… like… I would really like to live with you.”

You blinked up at him.

“Like… I’ve been thinking a lot about us moving in together, these past few weeks. I… I would really like that. Would you?”

Your expression was unreadable for a moment, and he thought you would reject him, he really did… just like Sam. He was the fucking problem all along…

But then your lips broke into a toothy, excited grin.

“Yeah… I’d really like that.”

He blinked, trying to gauge whether or not he had misheard you.

“Really?”

His voice was weaker than he meant for it to be, only too revealing of how vulnerable he was right now.

And he both loved and hated it, the way you seemed to read right through him, to know exactly what he was thinking. You reached up for his cheek, said exactly the right thing.

“I want you. I’m not her. I want this, all of it.”

He nodded, trying to blink tears away.

“Good… yeah… that’s grand… like… erm… yeah…”

You leaned up to shush him with your lips.

“I’d really love to live with you,” you went on with a chuckle. “I mean… we kind of already do!”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he nodded with a little laugh of his own.

“Where would you like to live?”

“Erm… I don’t know… not too far from the city, I guess.”

You were silent for a minute or so, he rubbed circles into the small of your back.

“Do you think that one day we’ll buy a house together?”

His heartbeat quickened as he stared into your eyes.

“I don’t know… we’re not there yet, are we?”

“No, no… we’re not. But… like… would you like that one day? To buy a house? Maybe with me? Can you see that happening? In like… a couple of years?”

His heart was stumbling now.

You were seeing that? You, him? A house?

A couple of years?

“Elwood would finally have a garden.”

Elwood? You, him, Elwood? A house? A garden?

A couple of years?

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice made hoarse by emotions. “Yeah… I can see that. I’d love that.”

You nodded, grinning.

“I’d love that too.”

You were both quiet for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s presence.

“God… Andy… we’re going to need so many bookshelves…”

Andrew let out a bright laugh, and you soon joined him.

And he was so happy. So goddamn happy…

“Jon, I swear to God… if you drop this…”

“I won’t.”

“Careful with it!”

“I won’t drop it! Relax, Andy. For God’s sake…”

You chuckled, fondly shaking your head at the two bickering brothers.

“Play nice you two,” you admonished.

Behind you, Raine was carrying a small package in the kitchen.

“Listen to Y/N. Be nice.”

“I am,” they both answered at the same time.

You heard John’s cane echoing down the hall, and indeed, he was soon in the kitchen as well.

“Huh… nobody has asked the only relevant question here,” Siobhán complained. “Where the hell is the beer?”

You all laughed at her, before you fetched in your brand-new fridge for a beer.

“Is that the first thing you put in there?” Alex asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Obviously,” you nodded, making everybody laugh.

You handed everyone a beer, looked around at the work you had accomplished. Everyone was busy with quiet conversations, Andrew with his family, while Siobhán and Alex were catching up, as they had not seen each other since the New Year. You smiled as you looked at them laughing, getting along well, like friends already. You heard Alex arguing that they shouldn’t let so much time pass before they’d talk again, this time around. If you didn’t know Siobhán, you’d have sworn there was a blush tainting her cheeks when she agreed. But then Siobhán turned to you, talked about your flat, about the work left to do and the one already done. All your furniture was in your new home, you now had to settle in properly. There was a rather large kitchen opened on the living room, a bathroom, a bedroom, two smaller rooms that you would turn into your offices. There was a small balcony too, just large enough for a square table and a couple of chairs. Elwood loved it already. He was spying on birds, sitting on the balcony, looking up at their shapes flying off and landing on the electric cables on the other side of the street.

It was simple, but more than large enough for the two of you. It was your home, to both you and Andrew.

You reached for his hand, and he immediately intertwined your fingers together, rubbing your knuckles in a soothing gesture.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad,” John nodded, clearly content.

“It’s a lovely flat you’ve found,” Raine nodded. “And we saw there was a park nearby, as we were driving here this morning!”

“Yeah, it’s just five minutes away. It’ll be perfect for Elwood,” you nodded.

Andrew gave your hand a tender squeeze.

Alex was talking about decorating the living room and everybody listened, except for Andrew. Instead he leant closer to you, bent down to whisper in your ear.

“We’re going to make such happy memories here. I can feel it.”

You grinned up at him.

“I can feel it too, baby.”

And you were both right.

You heaved a dramatic sigh, the pile of essays scattered across your bed. A mess of paper and pencils across the blanket.

You had a headache, you hated your life, you hated university, you hated how comfortable and inviting your pillow was…

A low chuckle made you glare as you looked up at the intruder, who was walking in your bedroom with two cups of tea in his hands, his glasses a little lopsided on his nose, wearing plaid pyjama pants and his old Thin Lizzy t-shirt.

“Someone’s getting frustrated?” he asked in his warm voice, and you couldn’t control your reaction to it. Even after all this time, you still felt the same. It made you feel peaceful, dizzy with warmth and safety.

“I hate grading papers… Why can’t we just… do research, and give classes, but without the tests and the essays and the grading?”

“Because life is hard and highly unfair.”

You stared at him as he handed you a cup of your favourite tea, done exactly the way you liked it. The warmth of the porcelain was spreading across your fingers as quickly as the sight of his smile was warming your heart. You allowed yourself to stare at him for a moment. Smiling, warm and mischievous with his teasing, hazel eyes turned fully green in the tiredness of the night, the beard you longed to feel against your skin colouring his cheeks, and his long, curly brown hair was let loose and free to fall all the way to his shoulders. You settled your gaze fondly on the freckle above his right eye, and the curve of his long eyelashes, on the pink of his lips that you constantly longed to kiss. You held out your hand, and he immediately placed his own in your hold.

And you thought about Frank. About that man you had loved, and thought you always would. How you had almost married him. How you could have missed this moment, how you could have missed loving someone as wonderful as Andrew. How the best things in life are always so fragile, always on the verge of disappearing, or not happening at all…

“You’re alright, love?” Andrew asked with a small tilt of his head, worry making him frown.

“Yeah, just frustrated and tired,” you nodded.

But he narrowed his eyes at you, and you sighed when he read right through you.

“No… there’s something else. What’s bothering you, darling?”

You took a sip of your tea before answering.

“I was just thinking… how easy it would have been for us never to be together. Isn’t that crazy? I can’t imagine my life without you in it now, and we could have never been together.”

He nodded, let go of your hand. And at first, you thought he was moving away, but he merely walked around the bed to his side, pushed the papers you still had to grade further down the bed, and slipped under the covers with you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you easily yielded when he pulled you closer.

“Hmm… a lot of things could have gone wrong,” he slowly nodded. “We could have been put in different offices, you could have accepted that job in Belfast, our crazy plan about our exes could have worked out.”

“Do you regret it sometimes? That you didn’t end up with Samantha?”

He laughed at that, surprising you with the brightness of it.

“Don’t be silly! Of course, I don’t! I’m so much happier with you than I was with her. Nah… I have no regrets. I love you way too much for that.”

You grinned up at him.

“Do you? Regret Frank?”

But you shook your head.

“You make me happier than he ever did,” you answered, burying your face in his chest, and he bent to kiss the top of your head.

He grinned into your hair.

“So… no regrets in moving in with me and everything?”

“Actually… I do have one regret.”

He pulled away just enough to look at you, growing serious again as he frowned with worry.

“You haven’t kissed me since you’ve walked in the room.”

He rolled his eyes at that, mumbling something about you giving him a proper scare, before he would lean in and kiss you, slow and deep at first, a kiss that turned passionate and urgent as his hands moved across your body.

You shifted to get closer to him, knowing where this kiss was heading, and having no intention to stop Andrew when he moved his lips from your mouth to your neck. You lost your hand in his curls, moaning as he softly bit the fragile skin over your pulse…

You were both startled as the pile of graded essays fell to the floor.

“No!”

You rushed to gather them in a new pile, groaning and mumbling under your breath. Meanwhile, Andrew was picking up the rest, and setting them aside by the bed.

“I need to finish this tonight, love,” you admonished, nodding towards the papers he had placed on the ground by his side of the bed.

“It’s almost eleven. No more work.”

“And I thought you were the one who was always working.”

“I’m always writing, not grading essays.”

“Hmm… and yet, I haven’t heard anything in a while.”

He blushed, making you smile fondly at him.

“I have a few poems ready for you, if you want,” he mumbled under his breath, growing shy and making you giggle.

“Oh! I can’t wait to read them, my love.”

He grinned at the earnestness in your answer, but still told you to discard the essays for tonight.

“I have better plans for us, like…” he quipped, wiggling his eyebrows and making you laugh, although you could still feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sight of his tempting stare.

“Oh, really? And how do you suppose you’re gonna convince me to drop my academic duties in favour of sinful activities?”

He grinned, something devilish and awfully charming.

“That’s the easy part, darling,” he spoke with a voice deeper and lower than his usual tone, that made your very soul tremble.

You blinked as he took off his shirt, put away his glasses. You stared at the marble skin, longed to touch it…

You struggled to swallow, and dropped the essays to the floor.

“Alright, okay, I’m convinced. Kiss me…”

He laughed; a grin on the verge of cockiness at his success forming on his lips; still, you let him have his win.

But when you gently held his lower lip between your teeth, he was the one begging for more…

[alilabaroli]

You were supposed to retire. After nine years of living on the outskirts and hoping your past wouldn't catch up to you, you decided to call it quits — your biggest nightmare was proclaimed dead, old faces forgot you, and you were nothing more than folklore by now. But life wouldn't be this easy. Not when a letter from your old tutor arrived, asking for help and raising suspicions, forcing you into your past again.  It's been almost a decade, but you're still Atlas Fyndor. You're still a vision of seers. You're still everything they're afraid of.

Play as a “retired” soldier whose future was taken away, and force your way through court intrigues, messy political matters, and personal vendettas to find your tutor and uncover the mysteries surrounding their disappearance. Prove yourself as a curse or a blessing to the people of Braeles, and see the chance to kill what has been killing you for the past decade.

choose your appearance, sexuality, pronouns, alias, personality and skills;

forge platonic relationships from enemies to foes, gathering enough people to help you with your objectives or to make you the villain;

befriend or romance “one” out of six characters, each one with a unique route and obstacles;

have a bird! A good pet that loves you and clings to you like a child does their mother's skirt;

explore a world full of magic, fantasy, and culture while discovering the mystery behind your tutor's disappearance and your brother's death.

SILVER COMMANDER (the guilt), [they/he], RO., demon.

— There's whispering about the new Head Commander; how their shoulders don't stiff, how their head doesn't bow, and how their cowardice makes him the most deplorable thing in the Army. Regardless, they were chosen by the ruler herself, and no one would dare contest the Queen.

LADY VAMPIRE (the fuel), [she/her], RO., sensitive.

— No person in Braeles wouldn't know about Caroline Dourado's accomplishments. An unfortunate mage who made her way through thick and thin to get where she was. Being under her employee, the rumors weren't entirely far-fetched – Caroline was extremely rude and arrogant. But she was your only way to your objectives.

MADAM DELACORTE (the means), [she/her], RO., human.

— You never thought someone as well-known as Jacqueline Delacorte would require such low-fitting services. As the blossom, the rose, and the charm of Braeles, the deals Jacqueline hid behind her white gloves and flowered fan made you second-guess noble families. But you weren't about to bite the hand that fed you.

FEATHERHANDS (the memory), [he/him], RO., human.

— He glued on you against your will; a laid-back, good-humored thief, Alyk forced his way into your low-profile life until you had no other option but to keep him. It wasn't all in waste, at least – if there's one thing Alyk can do, is to make everything you ask him to. A loyal dog to the end. There's only one way this can go.

EMIR'S HOUND (the blade), [he/him], RO., dragon.

— You may be the worst thing the army could make, but you were never a dog – not like him, not like Terra. And you hate him for it. You hate his loyalty, you hate his fear and you hate the love he swore to have for you. You hate him like it's a religion all by itself; no wonder that still to this day he’s known as Icarus Emir's good dog.

DIAMOND COMMANDER (the mirror), [she/her], RO., obscura.

— As the second in command of the Head Guard, Rhoda Nihiri is a valuable asset to the Crown Circle. She's not to be underestimated, nor cast aside – if her skills aren't enough a reason, then for her connection with Raisa Nihiri, the in-command of the Royal Guard.

DEMO (TBA) | [as of now: I have the Prologue and Chapter 1 half-way through. If everything goes according to plan, I may be able to drop it around march/april.]

reblogs are much appreciated :)

[main tag: 'af:atog']

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

tagged by @butchdiaz and @capseycartwright to do a 2024 fic roundup, muah! thanks <3

apparently i wrote 10 fics and a total of 383,612 words what the fuck asdfghjkl my brain is so rotted

January

baby it's okay if we both end up afraid - 28k, mature, buddie & bathena, cruise ship disaster spec

Buck hadn’t forgotten how cold the ocean is. He hadn’t forgotten the bite of it or how the crest of a wave can feel like the edge of a knife or how the water stings and cuts and carves and settles in the bottom of your lungs and the pit of your stomach like a handful of broken glass. But he had forgotten the water’s weight. He had forgotten how heavy it is as it clings to you and refuses to let go, something he supposes he has in common with this powerful, almost undefeatable force of nature. Letting go has never been something he is good at, in any capacity, in any situation, always clinging clinging clinging like his very life depends on how well he can hold on to all the things that want him to release them. or, buck and bobby battle their past traumas in the middle of a shipwreck. eddie pines in the aftermath. and somehow, for all of them, love endures and overcomes.

February

you fill my head with you - 22k, mature, buddie, drunk confessions

And then everything winded down, their friends decided to turn in and head home. Him and Eddie were the last to leave, and he– He stumbled out of the bar right beside Eddie. He–Oh god, he threw himself all over Eddie. He flirted. He–he told Eddie that– Buck’s hand stills, the toothbrush lying on his tongue with dead weight, uncomfortable and somewhat annoying, but Buck can’t even think about that because he fucking told Eddie that he dreams about them kissing. What the fuck? What the actual, horrible, unholy fuck? Buck has to leave. He needs to find a deep, dark hole to climb inside. Bury himself so that he can never come out. He can never see Eddie again for as long as he lives and that’s such a terrifying, heartbreaking, impossible thought, but that’s the way it has to be. He told Eddie he dreams about them kissing. or, a night of drinking leads to buck confessing his feelings to eddie and they are both very stupid about it

April

the mouth is the thing that craves - 11k, explicit, buddie, cockwarming

Buck’s free hand comes up to Eddie’s face, fingertips brushing over Eddie’s mouth which is hanging open. Eddie isn’t sure when it started doing that but it is and his tongue twitches involuntarily when Buck slips the tips of his first three fingers past the row of Eddie’s bottom teeth. “Oh,” Buck murmurs, like he’s confirmed something to himself. “Yeah. Okay.” There’s no room in Eddie for anything that’s not grateful or warm or good, his heart spreading out wide in his chest, full and fat and working overtime as Buck smiles to himself, all small and lopsided and boyishly charming, and says, “You need something in your mouth, sweetheart? Need to hold me close, don’t you?”

or, eddie loves buck and he really loves buck's cock

June

except everything - 26k, explicit, buddie, fwb/getting high

Like most things with Eddie are, the regular sex is good. Fun. A fucking delight to be honest. Buck may be a bit lovesick and forced to hide needy whines like he is some dog trying not to be too cumbersome so his owner lets him stay, but he’s also more relaxed than he’s ever been, no matter the tension of his heavy love that only grows and grows and grows. It’s fine. Eddie bends Buck over the kitchen table and fucks him until he’s screaming, and it’s fine. Buck rides Eddie until he’s a babbling mess and his fingernails cut into Buck’s hip bones leaving marks Buck will trace later with a wretched wistfulness, and it’s fine. Eddie kisses Buck sweetly, finely, softly, as if that alone is enough, and it’s fine. Buck fingers Eddie until he comes all over himself, the sensation of his heartbeat basically in the palm of Buck’s hand, and it’s fine. It’s all so very fine. Buck is fine. or, buck and eddie become friends with benefits, get high, and confess their love in the stupidest and most endearing way possible.

August

i'm here with the door wide open - 24k, teen & up, buddie, post s6

Eddie eats and showers and puts on clothes. He goes to work, does his job, acts as fine as he can around his friends, attends therapy twice a week, and goes back home. Day after day after day. And it’s so fucking quiet. or, eddie copes with the absence of chris but also the presence of buck

cursed romantics//fataliatic collison - 16k, explicit, andrew blur/sam halse, post ending smut

Andrew just wants. He was afraid he wouldn’t remember how to without Eddie. All of Andrew’s wanting was always so intrinsically tied up in the pathways of Eddie’s veins, seemingly born and cradled in Eddie’s blood, held within him so tightly, Andrew thought it would die right along with him. It didn’t. Oh, how it didn’t. It burns brightly in him for Sam Halse, his want. It flows through him easier than anything, more intoxicating than any drug. or, after the ending of summer sons andrew and sam figure some things out and fuck nasty about it

October

sweet sunbursts of flesh pink magic - 5k, explicit, buddie, magic!buck

Buck’s magic has always been a bit volatile. Jittery. Fluctuating. A touch reckless. Messy and bright and loud. Maddie says that a person’s magic is supposed to match the person themselves, that the form it takes isn’t happenstance or random, that it’s a reflection of your purest self, an extension of your soul that you can manipulate. Safe to say, Buck’s never cared for that assessment. or, buck has magic and eddie gets doused with sex pollen

still the bone remembers, still it wants - 148k, explicit, buddie, s5 eddie & therapy

The thing is, wanting has always been easy. The thing is, wanting has always been so hard. or, eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. buck helps.

November

death wish love - 15k, explicit, buddie, post 8x06

Eddie opening the door, casual and filled with a type of swagger Buck didn’t understand. Pantsless. Thighs on display. Flushed and sweaty in his thin button up. Buck isn’t sure why the memory of that image makes his throat go tight. It didn’t faze him all that much at the time because he had other things on his mind and was sad enough that a true act of divinity probably wouldn’t have gotten a reaction out of him. But now– Well, now Buck looks at Eddie. Bare legs and a hint of his thighs. That dark mark on the back of his right leg peeking out from the hem of his shorts. Hair mussed and a little damp, curling behind his ears. The image of the Eddie in front of him now and the Eddie in front of him last night flicker back and forth on top of each other like some kind of montage or old movie reel. And Buck feels…pink. Caught. Stomach all fizzy and turning. or, after getting dumped by tommy and going to eddie's, buck wakes up the next morning only to be pummeled by his hangover and his attraction to eddie

December

a ghost in my lungs, a ghost in my mouth - 84k, explicit, buddie, eddie and buck can see ghosts

Buck is soaked to the bone. Skin puffy. Neck and chest lacerated by the cruel touch of lightning, as if it’s still contained within him and not eager to let him go. His curls are matted. Eyes charged but also vacant, like he is looking through two planes of reality and can’t focus. Awful. Beautiful. Eddie wants him to go away. Eddie wants him to stay. Eddie wants to shout at him until he wakes up. Eddie wants to forget this horrifying, pale version of his best friend, the man he loves. Eddie wants to touch him, make him real and whole. Buck takes a single step forward and Eddie’s breath collapses in his chest. He thinks Maddie is saying something, his name maybe, but it’s so muffled and distorted, and it doesn’t matter, not when Buck with his sad sad eyes is opening his mouth and saying, “I’m trying.” or, in the aftermath of the lightning strike eddie is haunted by buck's ghost

tagging @spaceprincessem @shitouttabuck @try-set-me-on-fire @lemonzestywrites @chronicowboy @colonoscopys @devirnis @sibylsleaves @absolutelybifurious @spotsandsocks @queerdiazs @shyaudacity @elvensorceress @lonelychicago @bi-buckrights @bigfootsmom @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus and whoever else wants to do this!

[saltydkdan]

When is the fourth part of the jojo iceberg coming out? Last time there was an update all the way back in April, in which you said it'd be a month away, so I'm wondering if there's any new projection for that

Full disclosure, I kept running into weird issues and had to fully re-edit chunks of it. Plus I'm an asshole that over estimates myself. All I can say right now is that I'm currently editing it and trying to get it finished as soon as possible.

I doubt it'd take another month, but I'm afraid I'm going to jinx myself again if I say that with my full chest.

[capseycartwright]

tagged by @livingincolorsagain to do a 2024 fic roundup and i am v late but hope u forgive my tardiness i have been enjoying a new year rot of the highest order. anyway apparently i wrote a whole heap of fic this year and didn't realise it until i made this post.

april

every little thing the sun shows, well it’s worth it 

Buck should – he should be freaking out, right? He’d lived thirty-two years of his life without coming close to kissing another man, and it should be making him freak out that tonight, he did – but Buck felt flooded with the oddest sense of calm he’d ever experienced in his life.

He’d kissed a man.

or - after his kiss with Tommy, Buck goes to Hen.

stay close, little brother

hen and maddie share a quiet moment of pride about their little brother at the buckley-han wedding.

may

all roads lead to eddie diaz

Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.

Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.

or - eddie and tommy have a revelatory conversation about the buck of it all.

july

a sky full of stars

Christopher Diaz had always loved fireworks - the pop, and bang, and the way they would light up the sky with bright colours. His dad didn’t like fireworks though. His dad was afraid of them.

or, even in Texas, Christopher worries about his father spending the Fourth of July alone. So he texts Buck.

can't ignore the crazy visions of me in la

Margarita-drunk Buck ruminates on how beautiful Eddie Diaz is while his best friend is dancing to Chappell Roan. That's what LA pride is for, right?

- or, alternatively: Eddie spends his first pride as an out queer man in a gay club, and Buck is in love with him about it.

october

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins)

Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.

Eddie couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he thought the words. If he couldn’t be a bit silly while having a sexuality crisis in a Catholic church – when could he? 

Christopher leaves for Texas, Eddie goes back to therapy, unearths an emotional lockbox he had been fourteen years old when he buried, and has a lot of thoughts about how Buck is sunshine incarnate. In hindsight, it probably should have been obvious he wasn't straight.

knowing damn well i haven't been touched by you

Buck’s been having a really weird year. Buck died, and he realised he was bisexual, and he got a boyfriend, and Christopher left and went to Texas after he walked in on Eddie kissing his dead mother’s doppelganger, Eddie had grown a depression mustache, and Gerrard was back at the helm of the 118 and Buck felt like he was starring in a Netflix Original about how a perfectly normal, functional, member of society was driven to commit murder.

- or, Buck's got a boyfriend, Eddie comes out and starts dating men, and Buck loses his entire mind, actually.

november

miss me, but let me go

“I have - I’ve carried this grief, for you, for so long, and I know I can’t let it all go, because a part of me is always going to grieve for you,” Eddie paused. “But I can’t feel like this forever, Shannon. I don’t think you’d want me to, either. So - I need to let some of it go. Okay? I need to - I need to be myself now. For me, and for Christopher. I want to be me.”

On November 1, Eddie builds an altar for Shannon and finds a way to let her go.

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star

“Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” 

in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

december

i'll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams)

It was a silly thing, Buck had started, right when Eddie first got to El Paso – we’re looking at the same sky, he’d quipped, on one of their nightly Facetime calls.

Even when they were far apart from each other, they were still able to look up at the same stars, and if they just remembered that, maybe the distance between El Paso, and Los Angeles, wouldn’t feel so cavernous. That’s what Buck had promised him.

simply having a wonderful christmastime (maybe)

Eddie's family were about to arrive for the first Christmas they were hosting in LA as as couple, and, well, Buck felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack so great it would be in the Guinness Book of World Records for the destruction it was liable to cause.

or - the buckley-diazes are hosting christmas for the first time, and buck is freaking out, a little. he has a good reason, he swears.

see the lights, hang the stockings

Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions.

everyone has probably done this already so apologies but tagging @doeeyeseddie @thatbuddie @clusterbuck @hattalove @mellaithwen @sibylsleaves @piningbuddies @eddiebabygirldiaz @hotshotsxyz

[twilightau]

should've been us,♡; L.MH;

about: 0.7k words ― angsty friends to strangers/ missed opportunity this one is from the long forgotten 2021 drafts!

photo: cr. 0_8_0_e

the little led screen announces another post by user onyourm_ark. a photo of mark and his girl 'best' friend hugging each other . You watch with bright smiles. 'late night pizza hunters!' the cheesy caption reads.

from a small distance, your sweet fizzy drink suddenly tastes too sweet as you swallow it down with the lump in your throat. the story your friend was telling you long forgotten as you stare at the couple across the street.

mark's hands linger a little longer on her arm, and you recognize the pattern all over again. his eyes. his smile. the glow. the love.

you still remember the 7th of april; the warmth was slowly embracing the world around you again as you giddily said on the bench in your favorite park. the phone call from a week ago still replaying in your mind like a little broken record.

you: hi markie, what's up?

mark: hi y/n...so...i got a question...are you busy or something?

yYou: hmm not really, just doing some laundry, but what's up?

mark: great. so. um...

you: yeah?

mark: w-would you like to go on a date with me next week?

you: next week?

mark: yeah, wednesday or something?

you: oh...yeah sure! sounds fun

your new sneakers were still fresh without a speck of dirt, while you wore your best blazer to impress your friend. a fluttering feeling in your chest as all your past feelings for him returned in full force at the revelation that they might be reciprocated. it was as if young y/n was finally achieving her dream, just a little older and less expecting than when she had first liked her best friend.

mark came running a shy 20 minutes after the agreed time, apologizing profusely as you waved him off, too much on cloud nine to care. the two of you walked towards a brunch place he recommended and sat down in silence.

that day you went out, as an attempt to let the friendship blossom into something more.

and that was all it was, an attempt. because mark lee had other ideas.

the conversation at the end of that day is still engraved in your memory, as you carry the regrets with you every single day.

"y/n, I need to tell you something," mark started, his fingers fidgeting as he rested his palms on the steering wheel, his eyes trained on the rearview mirror despite you sitting in the passenger seat. you hum in reply, giving him a gentle smile to encourage your best friend to continue.

"i actually liked you." he drops the bomb, your smile barely maintained as you take in the one word that stuck out like a sore thumb. liked?

you stay quiet, not knowing what words will make this situation any better, allowing him to continue. "i think i've liked you ever since we started talking like two summers ago, and yeah... kinda always wanted to ask you out." mark laughed as one of his hands caress the back of his neck, a nervous habit you knew he had. you still haven't said a thing, afraid to make a fool of yourself, because this conversation was going in a direction you didn't anticipate.

"that's pretty much why i asked you out today, to see if perhaps, i still like you." he elaborated after a beat of silence, you nodded.

"but i think we are better off as friends." mark lee said. he had crushed every possibility before they could even form.

"and that is fine, you didn't like me anyway, right?" he tried to lighten the mood, you gathered all your emotions and swallowed them down, turning to look Mark straight in the eye with you best fake smile, a fake smile even he couldn't decipher.

you laughed, "yeah, it's fine." and told your best friend your greatest lie.

the two of you drifted apart after that day, because it was not fine at all. and as much as you promised him you'd be the same for him, you couldn't.

you couldn't when you could have had him, yet something about you stopped him from liking you any further.

now you watch Mark rekindle his feelings, but this time, you were out of that picture.

and it was all because of those little confessions you were afraid to share.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!

After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.

April O'Neil Character Notes

Language Habits:

Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave

Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"

Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"

"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase

Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated

Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"

The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic

Over text uses emoticons

Refers to splinter as "splints"

Refers to the turtles as "the fam"

Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names

Personality:

Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode

Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)

Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness

Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids

Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up

Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away

Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time

Miscellaneous:

Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph

Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from

Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)

Uses the environment in a fight in general

She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet

Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)

Loves laser tag

Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)

"sherlock_corn" is her handle online

Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom

Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards

Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.

I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.

Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.

---

Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3

[peachhcs]

hughes!sister x will smith au ✰

→ samy hughes x will smith

or childhood best friends to lovers

→ moodboard & masterlist

★ ☆ au background + timeline ★ ☆

they're family friends + have known each other since they were babies

they were always close, but they didn't start getting closer until will moved to michigan for his development program in summer of 2021 (also when samy met gabe, ryan, drew, etc.)

the guys don't believe will at first when he tells them he knows samy hughes & beg him to meet her (i assume she's fairly known because of her brothers)

samy and will grow a lot closer during those two years and by her senior year of high school and will's last year of ntdp they realize they may have feelings for one another after playing it off as a brother and sister relationship

will realizes his feelings in october when him and some of the guys see samy off for her senior homecoming

samy realizes her feelings a few months later in april when her and her friends decide to bring the guys to their prom since they don't get that experience

after prom, the two don't see one another for months because will is constantly traveling for hockey that whole summer, but they're still constantly texting and calling

they reunite at the draft in nashville! the entire hughes family is there supporting will

at the draft, samy and will realize that their relationship is changing

the confession doesn't come out until will's draft party that night

they're both nervous and afraid to ruin their friendship, so they deicide to give themselves a grace period where they can go on a few dates and see how it goes and if it goes horrible, nothing is ruined between them

obviously it goes well and they decide to start dating!

→ samy hughes:

samy (samantha) poppy hughes

younger sister to luke, jack, and quinn

she's very close with her brothers and they all have a two year age gap

birthday is january 17th, 2005!

she's 16 when will moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college about to be 19!

she played hockey growing up wanting to be like her brothers and was very good on the ice (still is)

switched to soccer full time sophomore year (10th grade) and now plays at the university of michigan

is roommates with dylan's (fake) younger sister, hannah which is a bit of full circle since luke was roommates with dylan at umich

luke's michigan friends love her and take her under their wing as their own little sister — especially ethan and mark

samy loves going to the yost for every home game as well as watching will's games on her computer whenever bc plays

even though she doesn't play hockey regularly anymore, she still loves the sport and will always have a special place in her heart for it

she becomes one of the best freshman on the soccer team her first year and helps lead the team to the ncaa finals for the first time in awhile. she wins her first national title her 2nd year!

our girl is ridiculously smart with a near 4.0 majoring in political science! will admires her so much how she can balance everything

she's about half a foot shorter than will and she always teased him when they were younger how taller she was before he had his growth spurt

she goes for earthy tones

she's very outgoing + extroverted + loves talking. she can and will talk will's ear off at any given time

will calls her "pretty girl" the most

→ will smith

younger brother to grace

they have a close relationship and will goes to her when he needs relationship advice (he did this a lot when he first realized he liked samy)

birthday is march 17th, 2005!

he's 16 when he moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college

he's been playing hockey since he could walk and would always play with quinn, jack, and luke when they were younger

he's now a forward at boston college and was drafted 4th overall for the san jose sharks

he's roommates with his best friend, gabe perreault

he loved going to samy's soccer games in high school and would always drag the guys with him and now he still loves watching her games online

he fell first and harder (gabe and ryan knew will liked her before will knew himself)

very much golden retriever energy

he's constantly calling and texting samy throughout the day to update her about his life at bc

will's a bit more introverted when it comes to new people he doesn't really know, so samy always does all the talking when they're together and he just enjoys sitting or standing beside her while smiling and nodding along

his clothes are her clothes whenever they're together, especially over the summers when they spend time together with their families

he likes neutral colors and doesn't wear bright ones unless samy picks out clothes for him or she suggests it (literally does whatever she says and the guys always tease him for it)

samy likes calling him "pretty boy" or "willie"

→ quick authors note:

hi! i'm joining the hockey bandwagon and writing my own au :) i know i sort of wrote a lot here, but i've got a lot of lore for these two and a lot of short blurbs written already to start publishing soon. i'm also open to requests for them and any of your own ideas too!! send things in & i hope you guys like this new au. p.s. i'm not an expert in hockey, but i'll try not to get anything wrong when writing, but bare with me :))

[moongazeonastarfillednight]

The Terror: When, How, Where... (PART 3)

See Part 1 (Intro, Episode 1 through 5)

See Part 2 (Episode 6 through 9)

1927 Admiralty Map (My beloved?)

To see the full map to interact with, click this link

List of Locations and approx dates:

Location 1 - David Young's grave (71.22, -96.60) - Sept 5 1846

Location 2 - Ships Position September 1846 (70.25, -98.00) - Sept 12 1846

Location 3 - Ships Position June 1847 (70.15, -98.30) - May 24 to Jun 11 1847

Location 4 & 5 - The Cairn and the Ice Camp (69.66, -98.27) - May 28 1847

Location 6- The Ships in January 1848 (70.055, -98.59) - January 10th- 17th 1848 

Location 7- The Ships in April 1848 (69.88, -98.57) - April 22nd 1848

Location 8 - Fairholmes' Last Resting Place (69.72, -98.35) - April 23rd 1848 

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24) - April 24th-26th  1848 

Location 10 - Netsilik Massacre (69.62, -98.05) - April 25th 1848 

Location 11- Hodgson is found - Mutineers: (69.56, -98.06) - April 27th 1848 

Location 12 - Hodgson is found – Crozier (69.54, -98.14) - April 27th 1848 

Location 13 - Fitzjames Collapses (68.94, -98.79) - June 10th 1848 

Location 14 - Gibson's death (68.860, -98.73)  - June 27th 1848 

Location 15 - Fitzjames' Death (68.78, -98.21) - July 28th 1848 

Location 16 - The NorWest Passage (68.7, -98.06) - July 28th 1848

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74) - August 3rd 

Location 18 – Bridgens' death (68.70, -97.95) - August 10th 

Location 19/21 - Mutineer Camp (68.73, -97.99) - August 3rd 

Location 20 - Crozier Ambushed (68.67, -97.84) - August 10th 

Location 22 - Tulloch Point (68.56, -97.09) - October 5th - (Crozier) - August 30th (Little)

Location 23 - The Library (68.48, -96.58)  - October 9th (Crozier) - September 9th (Little)

Location 24 - Todd island (68.44, -96.29) - October 9th (Crozier) - September 14th (Little)

Location 25 - Starvation Cove (68.24, -96.59) - October 10th (Crozier) - September 28th (Little)

Location 26 - Netsilik Summer Camp (68.66, -95.932) - Silna

Historical and documented locations are in blue

Proposed locations by Franklin Researchers in orange

Proposed locations by yours truly in pink

Historical locations but for which the show took liberties... in red

P.S I couldn’t take my own screenshot from the show so… I had to try and find the best matching image out there this time :(

On With the Show

Episode 10 - We Are Gone

Episode 10 is full of action and, thankfully, will not make me ramble too much until after Silna rescues Crozier. If we generously accept that the previous locations and date I gave are good (or good enough), then we’ll situate the first three quarters of the episode pretty easily.

So, for the end of our tragedy, we start in a place we’ve been before;

 Location 19 - Mutineer’s Camp (68.73, -97.99)

Date: August 16th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 26 min

Twilight -6h 34 min

Sunrise: 3:51 am, Sunset: 9:17 pm

The Episode starts with Hickey “welcoming” Crozier into his camp and we learn a clue about the date. “It’s a Wednesday”, followed, back at Hospital Camp, by Lt. Little who let us know that it has been a day since Crozier was taken by Des Voeux and Co.

So, the first question I have is: Did Des Voeux camp out the night? With what tent and what supply? They did not appear to have dragged anything with them. Perhaps they walked all night but that would have made for a very slow walk, probably, since we established that the Mutineers had camped only 6 miles away from the Hospital Camp and we’ve established previously that a slow pace for walking would be around 2mph.

Let’s address the first point. “It’s a Wednesday”. Well, my friends, I had previously placed Crozier’s being ambushed on August 10th and… that’s a thursday.

Therefore, I need to make a revision to Part 2, I’m afraid… I am not overly worried about this, however. I had based my timeline with very large stroke and I could either adjust that everything happens 2 days earlier that I previously said it would or 5 days later. Considering that the Tuunbaq battle happens during twilight and ends just as the sun is about the rise, and that was a couple of days later, I would be inclined to move everything forward 5 days. This would also give more “nighttime” for Hodgson to annoy Goodsir with his Catholic story… But also, this would explain why LeVesconte was feeling desperate enough to propose abandoning the ill, again. Time is flying by and they’re just… sitting… in that camp…

Therefore! Crozier comes into the Mutineer Camp on August 16th :) and we’re moving the day of Bridgens’ death on August 15th.

August 16th would also become the end for Mr. Goodsir.

And we are BACK at Hospital Camp for Le Vesconte little mutiny and, I have to say, I was so, so proud of Edward Little for trying to do the right thing… in a situation when there are no right decisions...

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74)

Date: August 16th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 26min

Twilight - 6h 34 min

Sunrise: 3:50 am, Sunset: 9:16 pm

From Le Vesconte’s summary of their decision, this is also the day they leave Hospital Camp and, therefore, the day of Jopson’s death :(

Location 21 - Tuunbaq Battle (68.67, -97.84)

Date: August 18th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 07 min

Twilight -6h 53 min

Sunrise: 4:00 am, Sunset: 9:06 pm

This is the next day, August 17th to August 18th (Tuunbaq dies shortly before the sun rises). 

Twilight would start at 9:19 pm but we started the day with a Goodsir breakfast and the question I would like to ask is this:

Did Hickey just wait until like… midnight to get them to start pulling that sledge? It looks like they did not come directly from the camp but from a little bit further away and maybe they chose to come at it from that angle because of the slope… Anyway, I’ll propose that, yes Hickey chose to wait until midnight to make them start pulling, making the battle happen on August 18th!

This would also mean that it would have taken almost 18 hours for Goodsir’s poison to take effect?

We’ll mark the location as the same as the Mutineer’s camp since they are so close to one another.

And now:

Crozier Recovers

 Location 19 - Mutineer’s Camp (68.73, -97.99)

Date: October 2nd 1848

Nighttime - 6h 20 min

Daylight - 10h 56 min

Twilight - 6 h44 min

Sunrise: 6:52 am, Sunset: 5:48 pm

The timeline for an amputation’s recovery are what I’ll need to use to check on when it is that Crozier can walk again.

Let’s start with the stump: I note that when Crozier announces to Silna his intention to try and find his men, the stump doesn’t have any kind of coverings. Meaning it would have been closed or scared well enough to not need it anymore.

(PS Looking for a screenshot of when he wakes up)

As you can imagine I haven’t found a lot of information on the web concerning how long an amputation would take to heal if it was made in the middle of the arctic wilderness with a hunting knife and no modern medical care… But there are some beautiful papers out there about how amputation being so ancient (31 000 years ago) proved that caring for our ill was very much a way of life even back then. Anyway, according to Myhealth.Alberta.ca, a below the knee amputation would take up to 4  to 8 weeks to be able to return to work with modern care… it took Mr. Blanky a measly 2 weeks of recovery before he could walk the half mile between Terror and Erebus after his own amputation and damn, if this is not the proof that Mr. Blanky was the GOAT. 

Mr. Blanky also had the advantage of being cared for by a doctor (although, 19th century Doctor…), which Crozier does not. Based on this, I will accept that it would be reasonable for Crozier, who lives in the same world of superhumans as Thomas Blanky, might have needed the full 4 weeks to recover. At least.

We also know from our analysis of some hair growth for episode 9 that it takes 1 month to grow half an inch of beard. Honestly, I’d say this looks like at least 1 month and a half growth…

Also, to find out the approximate date, Crozier tell us that it’s “too late” to be this far North. No doubt he means that they are most certainly veering into the colder months and that he knows that if they would need to reach the Netsilik winter camp soon. It’s definitely not August anymore.

Finally, we know that the endgame is, I assume, Starvation Cove (See location 25). Starvation Cove, we know, 

I am going a little bit ahead of myself, I know, but I feel this is important to establish the timeline because Starvation Cove is a known location, I do not need to guess where it is. I can already calculate that it is, when taking the probably path the survivors took (based on the 1927 admiralty map), 50 miles away from the Hospital Camp.

We established, at the end of part 2, that the speed they would have gone at would have been about 1 mile per day. Maybe after dropping the desks and so many tents (there was only one boat in Little’s last camp), they could have gained a little bit of speed. Let’s say 1.5 miles per day. This would mean that if they were going at their best pace, they could have reached Starvation Cove in a month.

And, then, they would have had to stop, too exhausted to move on,and they would have known hunger enough to resort to the last ressource…

I also want to point out that there is a fine layer of snow on the tents and the crates when Crozier reaches it. And there is frost on Poor Lt. Little’s face. So, here is the thing about snow: it melts when exposed to the sun at near freezing temperature, if it had fallen on surfaces that will absorb heat. In order for the frost to have remained on Edward’s face and for the barrels to be frost and snow covered (lightly), my canadian nose tells the temperature may have been closer to 23F (-5C)  than at freezing (32F or 0C). Which would be average for the beginning of October (according to timeanddate.com) rather than September.

I think I will accept that even though Blanky, bless his face, recovered from an amputation in 2 weeks, it could have taken Crozier 6 or 7 weeks and based on the time one would need to travel to Starvation Cove (probably 1 week for Crozier and Silna if we account for Crozier’s recovering speed I would like to established at 10 miles per day and also accounting for the fact that he looked MUCH improved by the time they reached Starvation Cove, which requires time) and between 30 to 40 days for Little, this would be the right timeframe for the travel and starvation to occur...

This would date Crozier and Silna’s departure from the Mutineer’s Camp around October 2nd 

And now, Crozier and Silna gets on their way to the next stop:

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74)

Date: October 2nd 1848

Nighttime - 6h 20 min

Daylight - 10h 58 min

Twilight - 6 h42 min

Sunrise: 6:50 am, Sunset: 5:47 pm

The hospital camp being, as established, 6 miles from the Mutineer camps, they would have made it there on the first day. And probably around noon if they had started to walk at first light. Crozier would have been slower than Silna and may have been able to walk only 10 to 15 miles per day. For the first couple of days, I expect that he could have walked closer to 10 miles than 15. I also would like to think that he would have taken the time to bury Jopson, making him the Gladman Point Skeleton (NdLe-16)

Location 22 - Tulloch Point (68.56, -97.09) (Not shown in show)

(Crozier)

Date: October 5th 1848

Nighttime - 6h 44 min

Daylight - 10h 41 min

Twilight - 6 h35 min

Sunrise: 6:54am, Sunset: 5:27 pm

(Lt Little)

Date: August 30th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 15h 22 min

Twilight - 8 h38 min

Sunrise: 4:46 am, Sunset: 8:08 pm

On their way to Starvation Cove, they would have had to cross Douglas Bay, a 3 miles wide little bay near the southern part of KWI.  It’s 26 miles from the Mutineers Camp (Which Crozier departed on October 2nd) and 20 miles from the Hospital Camp (Which Lt. Little departed on August 16th)

At a recovering pace of 10 miles per day for Crozier/Silna, they would have reached Douglas Bay at the end of their 3rd day of walking and I suspect that even though they sitll had some miles in them, they would have started fresh the next morning to cross the bay (Oct 6th).

At an average pace of 1.5 miles a day, Little and Le Vesconte would have reached Douglas Bay in 14 days and probably would have waited until the beginning of the 15th day to cross.

Location 23 - The Library (68.48, -96.58)

(Crozier)

Date: October 9th 1848

Nighttime - 7h 32 min

Daylight - 10h 01 min

Twilight - 6 h 27 min

Sunrise: 7:11 am, Sunset: 5:13 pm

(Lt Little)

Date: september 9th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 14h 00 min

Twilight - 10  h 00 min

Sunrise: 5:19 am, Sunset: 7:19 pm

This is the place where Little and Le Vesconte dropped all the books, what looks to be a desk and 2 side tables? (one would think that they’d have left that behind before Jopson :( )

I think that at this point they are getting much closer to the southernmost point of KWI, Booth Point. For 2 reasons: 1- Crozier seems to have recovered enough to be walking straight and without much difficulty and with enough strength to help pull Silna’s sled and 2- You can see they are close to the strait, like, right next to it. Which means that they would have been making ready to cross, which could be the reason why this is where they abandoned all the non essentials. If Little and Co crossed in mid-september, as the timeline I supposed when discussing Crozier’s recovery would lead me to believe, they would have crossed on thin ice, making it more necessary than ever to lighten the load. And because I started this journey to figure out how to reconcile the show with the locations of where relics were found, I think I would like this to be quite near River Piffer… you know… not too far from where they would have buried Le Vesconte… And we have for location 23 (68.48, -96.58)

I think Le Vesconte and Little would have rushed to cross Douglas Bay as to not be on ice when it is not cold enough yet to assure them it wouldn’t crack under their weight. They would probably have pushed to cross on the same day, making it a whooping 3 miles in one day. This would certainly have exhausted the men, bringing them closer to their demise. They would cross on August 31st, and start again on September 1st for the remaining 10 miles until location 23, probably at a slightly slower pace of 1.25 miles a day and reached the Library on September 9th.

TO BE NOTED: since 2009, the skeleton found and believed to be Le Vesconte by C.F. Halls in 1869 has been reidentified as Harry Goodsir. But! Well! You know!

Location 24 - Todd island (68.44, -96.29) (Not shown in show)

(Crozier)

Date: October 9th 1848

Nighttime - 7h 33 min

Daylight - 10h 01 min

Twilight - 6 h26 min

Sunrise: 7;10 am, Sunset: 5:12 pm

(Lt Little)

Date: September 14th 1848

Nighttime - 1h 22 min

Daylight - 13h 20 min

Twilight - 9 h18 min

Sunrise: 5:37 am, Sunset: 6:57 pm

The Route to Starvation Cove: I am still going to take from the 1927’s admiralty map there and accept that they crossed the Simpson Strait near Todd Island. One of the reason why I would agree with it is because their goal was to get to Back Fish River. Upon reaching Booth Pt, they might have realised that, well, that’s it. That’s the end of KWI. There is no land bridge connecting it to the Adelaide Peninsula. At that point, they had to cross but, before that? Well, they maybe had a chance that they could have kept pulling their sledge on firm ground and not attempt what might have been a frozen strait or a dangerous trek on unstable ice, especially in september. They would have attempted to cross at the nearest point possible from the river they were trying to get to. So, instead of simply crossing at the narrowest part of the Simpson Strait, they kept on going until they were facing Todd Island

Todd Island is 7.5 miles from the Library.

If we say that unloading their boat made the pace easier and back at 1.5 miles per day, then, Little would have reached this point in 5 days on September 14th and Crozier and Silna on the same day as they reached the Library, October 9th.

Location 25 - Starvation Cove (68.24, -96.59)

(Lt Little)

Date: September 28th 1848

Nighttime - 5h 46 min

Daylight - 11h 29 min

Twilight - 6 h45 min

Sunrise: 6:31 am, Sunset: 6:00 pm

(Crozier)

Date: October 10th 1848

Nighttime - 7h 44 min

Daylight - 9h 55 min

Twilight - 6 h21 min

Sunrise: 7;14am, Sunset: 5:09 pm

We know where this is :(

The thing about Starvation cove is that if we accept that Franklin’s men crossed at Todd Island, they would have been going SW when they should have been going SE to reach Back Fish River.

I would like to suggest that upon knowing that they would have to cross a large expense of ice in mid september ( which could have been potentially perilous as the ice was probably made fragile by the summer and it was not cold enough yet to secure the way), they… simply chose to go toward the point of land they could see. Which was this cute little point. From there, they followed its coast until their last stand.

Now, more daunting than anything, this is a monstrous 9 miles to cross. For Lt. Little and his unfortunate companions who I’ve recently reduced to a pace of 1.5 miles a day, this would have meant they needed 6 days to cross at that pace! I think they would have deemed it too dangerous and would have pushed, same as they did for Douglas Bay and made it 2.5 miles a day (crossing in 4 days - Sept 18). Once again, this would have taken from their reserves all their reserves and they would have slowed down to 1.2 miles a day until they reached Starvation cove, 7 miles away from their initial landing on the Adelaide Peninsula. From Todd Island to their last resting place, they would have walked another 10 days. It is September 28th 1848 and they have been hauling the boats for 5 months. They total mileage would have been between 150 and 170 miles with my proposed route from Terror Camp to Starvation cove.

Crozier and Silna would have been able to cross and reach Starvation Cove in a day, reaching it on October 10th, 12 days after Lt. Little and what was left of the crew.

OTHER LOCATIONS

Location 26 - Netsilik Summer Camp (68.66, -95.932)

For this one, I want to believe it is Gjoa Haven.

From Terror Camp, this would have been a 100 miles journey for Silna. If she took her time and made a comfortable 10 miles a day, she would have walked from TC to GH in 10 days or so. 2 weeks. But she probably footed it because it seems like she wanted her people to help, in some capacity, the Frankliners (which prompted the unnamed Netsilik hunter to lecture her on how the white men were disturbing the balance on the island)

Then, from Gjoa Haven to the Mutineer’s camp, it would have been 50 miles. If she had left with the other shaman the day Crozier got ambushed, august 15th (as it seems to be implied by the fact that the scene announcing her travel companion was ready to go being just after Tom Hartnell’s death), she would have made it just in time to save Crozier 3 days later on August 18th by walking 15 to 20 miles a day, which is a moderate pace for a hiker.

So, this coincidence comforts me into thinking that, yes, their summer camp WAS in Gjoa Haven : )

Which is to say, had her journey been continuous, she would have made it to the same destination as the men of Franklin in only 30 days or so...

It took Little 150 days to reach Starvation Cove…

Women are stronger?

Location 27 - Netsilik Winter Camp (???)

I don't even want to attempt this. There are no clues whatsoever as to where they might be. They also deserve a little bit of privacy!

That’s it! That’s the end! We’ve made it, friends! All 10 episodes!

For Part 4, I will attempt to correct the dates I retroactively changed from part 1 to part 2 and then from part 2 to part 3 and package all of this in a neat presentation that would be more digestible than this wall of rambling.

I will take my time to complete part 4 and review everything so I might upload it in a week's time or so, maybe more.

I rushed Part 1 through 3 so that it could get out of my head and you all paid the price for how much rambling there is ;) sorry!

Thank you for reading so far! This was a blast even though I felt like I was losing my mind quite a bit!

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ prompted myself bathena + a kiss to the stomach! fluff / h/c

-

They're lying in bed and Bobby is restless. Athena can feel his discomfort buzzing at her like a mosquito, even though physically, he's actually stayed quite still.

“Bobby,” she murmurs. “You're thinking out loud tonight. Everything alright?”

“It's probably nothing,” he says.

“But it might be something?” She raises an eyebrow, turning ever so slightly from her book, and Bobby sighs.

“I think I'm getting old, Athena.”

“If this is about you starting to notice the grey hairs, I'm afraid I have to inform you that ship has sailed.”

He almost laughs at that, but his eyes are too serious. Athena casts the book aside and shifts against her pillows, turning her whole body toward him to give him her full attention.

“What happened? Tough case?”

“Increasingly. I feel like the universe is throwing high rises at me just to see if my back or my knees will give out first. But no. We were caught in a chemical fire for a minute and it was when we were changing afterwards I noticed – I think I'm starting to get a bit... flabby.”

She almost laughs, and looks up to the sky for strength, because she loves this man but how can he not see he's been setting himself up for this ?

“Compared to whom? Mr Brown Rice Pasta Isn't That Bad, Mr Works Out To Cope, or Mr April 2019?”

He blushes a little at that, feeling foolish, and Athena brushes a hand through his soft hair.

“Baby,” she croons. “You do realise you've surrounded yourself with supermodels? That's just not you, and that's okay.”

He shakes his head.

“Sure, it's been a long time since I was a young – well, Buck,” he acknowledges, “and I've always had a bit more meat on my bones. I know that. It's not that. I just don't remember being this floppy. Feels like I've let myself go.”

“No,” she corrects him with a frown. “Jack Daniels and Percocet is you letting yourself go. This – baby – this is you happy.”

She trails a finger over the crows feet that pull at his eyes. Stress, yes, but laughter too.

“This is you no longer blaming yourself for every damn breath you take,” she reminds him, and her hands move down to the liver spots that are creeping their way over his shoulders, and just barely peeking out of the collar of his pyjama top.

“This is you getting to grow old even though you thought you never would,” she narrates.

Her hands wind down to his hips, and he mumbles uncertainly, and she pinches him there, just a little.

“And this - Bobby, my love - this sweet little muffin top is you, married and comfortable and in love. My silver fox. And you don't see me complaining.”

She lifts the bottom of his shirt and presses a kiss there, right by his belly button. Right where she can feel him - finally, just a little – laugh.