#the best way i can describe the situation In There is somewhere in the vicinity of

[roseverdict]

you've heard of sleeveless shirts now get ready for shirtless sleeves! for when pulling your blanket up is too warm for your torso but leaving your arms uncovered will be far too cold for them!

this post brought to you by whatever biological fuckery makes me want a cold pack for my back every month instead of a heat pack for my gut like apparently every other owner of a uterus on the planet with fluctuating temperature needs

[silenceofthecookies]

Author san!!! Can I use my free pass for the Black bull team pleasee!! I am sure one piece requests will flood away but I wanna read about the black bulls team so much. Fluff/Romance HCs. It can be anything like first meetings or kiss idk what ever you wish and feel like writing. Its your choice. The black bulls, I love them so much especially Zora... I absolutely fell in love with his charecter design, his outfit and his personality. Sadly he is not that popular. Please do justice for him. Thankyou!!!

Hi Abhi! I’m so glad to see you requesting something for the Black Bulls, they are such an amazing squad! For this one I decided to go with first kisses, since I recently wrote more kissing headcanons and I think they’re surprisingly fun to write UwU Zora is up first, and since you mentioned him not being popular, I decided to put more of the less-popular Bulls in here! I hope you enjoy ❤

Zora Ideale

Behind his though exterior, Zora is actually a little bit of a romantic. He doesn't quickly grow attached to someone, let alone fall in love, but it happened. Zora believes you deserve someone better than him, but you picked him so he'll just have to be the best version of himself for you.

He'll make sure the setting is right for the first kiss. Some place away from people, some please you can relax. Probably one of your favourite places. A first kiss should be memorable, right?

He'll place his hand on your cheek and lean In slowly, giving you enough time to turn away in case you'd be uncomfortable. He half expects you to punch him in the face or something.

The kiss is soft, your lips just barely touching. Zora is a little worried he'd hurt you or make you uncomfortable, and his pointy teeth may or may not be part of that worry. He's not changing them though, he likes them this way.

When he takes his hand off your cheek after the kiss there's a stinkbug on there. Zora wouldn't be himself if he was a perfect gentleman, right?

Charmy Pappitson

Your first kiss with Charmy will be kind of spontaneous, a kiss that will surprise both you and Charmy. It will, however, also be a sweet one, in more ways than one.

You and Charmy will just be relaxing, eating something sweet Charmy has made. Cupcakes, donuts, anything. As you're both enjoying it and gushing over the taste, Charmy notices a bit of frosting/filling/whatever stuck just above your lips. She'll point it out, but instead of describing exactly where it is so you can remove it yourself, she'll grab her chance, quickly lean in and clean it up herself.

The kiss lasts about a second, it's over before you even realise what just happened.

Charmy herself is a little surprised at her sudden bravado and looks away with a blush on her face, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. She liked it alright, but what if you didn't like it?

She'll be so taken off guard by her own action, that you have the perfect opportunity to lean in and place a kiss on her lips, this time a proper one. Once your lips part, she will be laughing awkwardly, probably avoiding your eyes by looking at the sweets.

Asta

“Y/n! Can I kiss you?!”

It's Asta's typical stressed/flustered way of shouting and even though he asked you away from other people, you're pretty sure anyone within the vicinity has heard him yelling.

Once Asta falls in love, he wastes no time getting his feelings across. He has no problem proclaiming them to you, be in privacy or in front of others. Once he knows you return his feelings, he will be so ecstatic that he forgets everything else. Including that he wants to kiss you.

So somewhere between 30 minutes and 3 hours after he confessed, he will be asking you if he can kiss you. When you say yes, he'll step closer to close the distance between the two of you, put his hands, which you can feel are a little sweaty because of the nerves, on your cheeks and slowly closes the distance.

The kiss itself is very careful, Asta has no idea what he's doing and he doesn't want to do anything wrong either. First kisses are special, right? He keeps his lips pressed to yours for a few seconds before pulling away with a big grin.

Grey, Henry, Luck, Noelle, Gauche, Gordon and Secre after the cut!

Grey

Grey is just not doing it. She's way too embarrassed, and there's just no way she can get herself to ask you to kiss you. She'll consider catching you by surprise and just doing it, but what if you don't want a kiss? Or what if she does it wrong?

She's an absolute mess. She'll ask Gauche and Noelle for help, but their advice is simply ‘just ask it’ or ‘just do it’. It's no help to her, which only makes her believe even more that she's a lost cause.

She will make several attempts to ask you, but she just never can get any further than the word ‘can'. The stuttering already starts when she calls out your name to get your attention, and after a few attempts to ask ‘can I kiss you?’ the embarrassment becomes too much and she transforms herself into the big guy. She's not finishing that sentence and no matter how much you ask her about it afterwards, she won't complete it.

Ideally, she'll wait for you to kiss her first. It'll still be super embarrassing, but at least she won't be the one who has to make the moves.

Henry Legolant

Henry is a little hesitant about kissing you, he knows what effect he has on the people who come too close to him, but he really wants to! So he'll think about it for a good while before hatching a little plan.

On a moment when nobody is around, he'll call out your name, step closer to you slowly so you can step away if you become uncomfortable, slowly leans in when he's close enough and kisses you. He has his arms around you to support you, in case he's draining too much mana from you.

The kiss is soft and slow, and he stays close to you for a few seconds, not wanting to part from you too quickly. He tightens his hold on you a little, enjoying the rare feeling of being close, certainly this close, to someone.

He'll then hand you a little plate of food he had asked Charmy to prepare for him beforehand and step back to give you some space. It's Charmy's special food to restore mana. Of course Charmy was in on his plan, he had to tell her to get her to make something for him, and unknown to you she's sneakily watching through the keyhole of the door to see if their plan worked.

Luck Voltia

Luck didn't plan on kissing you today. Luck doesn't plan on anything. He always goes with the slow and his only goal is for the two of you to have fun. Aside from that, it really doesn't matter what happens. Though if fighting or pranks are involved, that's a plus! And that's exactly what put him in a good enough mood to kiss you.

The two of you had just played a huge prank and were running away from your poor victim, who seemed about ready to murder you. You were laughing like maniacs as you ran and you eventually lost them. The two of you now stood still, catching your breath and laughing.

That's when he does it, suddenly and unexpectedly. The kiss is story and sweet, gone as soon as you felt it. Just a little peck. Luck simply keeps smiling at you while you're trying to process what just happened. He'll start laughing at your reaction, and it makes you unable to stop yourself from laughing as well.

The whole situation is a little absurd, but there's no uncomfortable silences, no tension, no awkwardness. Just your boyfriend playing a little prank on you, one you certainly don't mind.

Noelle Silva

Noelle is going to do everything in her power to make you be the one to kiss her first. She's a royal, she shouldn't be the one making the first moves. Right?

She's tried to a few times, but she just gets too embarrassed every time and chickens out. Hence her new plan: make you want to kiss her. You're already attracted to her so it shouldn't be too hard, right?

She'll put some extra effort into looking pretty, and she'll try to bait you with things like a subtle with pretty lipgloss, or by leaving a little bit of food hanging on her lip. She's not the most subtle person, so her message should come across pretty easily. It's up to you whether you want to tease her a little about it and pretend to not notice, or to just give her what she wants.

If you keep ignoring her hints, she'll eventually find a moment to just tell you that you can kiss her. Mostly likely when you've gotten her something or done something for her.

“You did good, as a reward, you're allowed to kiss me.”

No, even though she said it, she's still not making that first move herself.

Gauche Adlai

Gauche is not a very subtle person. When he wants something, it's obvious. Usually he just makes sure he gets it too. You, however, are the one exception to that. The one person aside from Marie that he's careful with, about whose opinion he cares. So, instead of just kissing you right the moment when he feels like it, he waits a little.

He's not too worried about setting up a good romantic setting, that's not what matters anyway, it's the kiss that matters, but he does try to get some privacy for that moment. He doesn't need people commenting on him kissing you when he does, it's a pain in the ass.

But getting some privacy with the Black Bulls around is nearly impossible, and Gauche is struggling to even create such an opportunity. His patience runs thin pretty quickly, he just wants to kiss you already, so he pulls you away behind a corner, pulls you close to him and kisses you there.

The kiss is a little on the rough side, mostly due to Gauche's annoyance at the whole situation and at how long he had to wait. He calms down pretty fast though, now that he's gotten what he wanted.

Gordon Agrippa

Gordon usually goes with the flow, letting you take the lead, letting you set the boundaries. It was like that in his friendship with you, and it will continue to be like that in his relationship with you. However, you two have yet to have your first kiss and he's getting a little worried about it. So this time, he decides to make a move.

When the two of you are relaxed and away from prying eyes, he'll just talk to you about it. Not in a sad or an accusing kind of way, but in a way filled with curiosity. Were you shy? Were you uncomfortable? Did you just not want to? Were you waiting for him to make the first move? Despite the somewhat weird topic, it's a comfortable conversation.

Once you let him know you're comfortable with it, be it during that conversation or later, he'll carefully cup your cheek in his right hand, put his left hand around you to pull you close and then he'll kiss you in a soft yet sweet kiss. Nothing too overwhelming, just a relaxed and loving moment.

Mind the lipstick stains though. The other Bulls will have a riot when they see them.

Secre Swallowtail

Secre never really thought too much about kissing you. Sure, she loved you, but physical displays of affection are not really her forte, nor are they extremely important to her. She always figured that if you wanted to kiss, you'd come to her and kiss her, simple as that.

However, when Vanessa, be it in an alcohol-induced haze, informed her that kisses were needed to assure the other of your love for them, she got a little insecure. Was that the ramblings of a drunk woman? Or was there some truth in that and were you doubting her love for you?

She remembered Tetia and Licht, and how happy they seemed when they kissed, so there must be some truth in it at least, right?

So she asks you if it's bothering you. Expressing her emotions aren't her strongest point, but you can see some worry and uncertainty in her eyes. If you assure her you're fine, that's that. If you let her know in any way that you would like to kiss her though, she'll lean towards you and place a quick peck on your lips. The contact doesn't even last for a second, but Secre can't help herself from smiling. Maybe kisses were better than she thought.

[violet-knox]

The Family Secret

Chapter 1: Spinner’s End

Pairing: Young!Snape x Reader

Summary: Excited for your summer break, you make plans with Severus to visit him at Spinner’s End. Nervous about your visit, Severus does everything he can to make your stay delightful, but nothing goes as planned when his father comes home early from work. 

Word count: 6951

Warnings: Implied child abuse (not explicit) 

A/N: It’s been such a long journey finishing this story up. Things did not go as planned when I signed up and there were times I didn’t think I’d manage to finish it. But here we are, and I’m so happy I pushed through.

This story has 5 chapters and since I didn’t plan anything for Sev’s birthday, I thought I’d make it up by posting the first (and longest) chapter today. The next chapter will be posted on Wednesday the 13th and after that, I’ll be posting one chapter every Saturday in January, the final chapter posted on the 30th. It was a pleasure to participate in the @snapebang​ and I hope everyone enjoys it!

He could still remember the first time he’d told you about his home on Spinner’s End. You’d only been dating two weeks and he had no obligation to tell you anything about his life, but he just couldn’t help himself. He’d been hoping for so many years to find someone like you, someone he could care for that would return the gesture. Someone he could love, trust and he did. He’d found you and there was no one else in this world he would ever trust more than you. Perhaps that was why he told you where he lived after you said you lived in Cokeworth as well, knowing the reputation Spinner’s End had built for itself. Lily had never cared for his family’s financial status, but her sister had, as did the majority of those he’d meet. He was afraid you’d react the same way, that once again his parents would ruin yet another good thing in his life, but you didn’t. You didn’t even hesitate to smile. But if you’d told him back then what you’d asked of him now, he would have questioned your knowledge on the reputation Spinner’s End carried and reconsidered telling you about his upbringing. 

Filthy, poor, loathsome, shameful, pathetic; those were the words he and many others would have used to describe his home, yet you seemed completely oblivious to those characteristics. You didn’t care about how small he claimed it to be. You brushed away his own distaste for the place and his offer to take you somewhere else. You simply asked again: Can I come over this summer? 

The answer was much simpler than he’d made it out to be in his mind: Yes, but you shouldn’t. Yet he could only imagine the hurt in your eyes if he’d responded that way. He knew you’d understand if he explained, but you’d already tolerate so much of his own burdens. Who was he to ask you to carry anymore? In all honesty, he was surprised you’d stuck around this long after everything you’d seen at school. The way he was treated by others; like a filthy raccoon who wouldn’t stop trespassing on their property. You should have run for the hills the second you got a glimpse of who he was, but you didn’t. You stayed by his side and yet, despite everything you’d been through, he still questioned your loyalty. It was as if the moment you understood where he came from, the moment you’d seen his home, who his father was, you’d abandon him like everyone else before you. 

It seemed however, that no matter what he’d say, no matter how hard he’d try, you’d always find your way back to him to put his heart back together. He loved your loyalty to him, your compassion for him. He loved everything about you and only a fool would shun the insurance you offered him of your expectations for Spinner’s End. 

“Severus, if you don’t want me here, I understand,” you said as you followed his lead down the street of Spinner’s End. Reservation still lingered in his chest and judging by your tone of voice, you were certainly aware of it. He was nervous more than anything. Yes, his father was away for the weekend and his mother never bothered to care for his presence anyways, but he still couldn’t help the dread in the back of his mind. Bringing you home was a risk, one that could end your relationship if you hadn’t been sincere about your views of his family. 

“N-no! I do, it’s just-” He paused and squeezed your hand as he looked away. “My house- where I live… It’s not what you imagine and my parents- they aren’t exactly the best of people.”

You’d seen him distressed before, the sorrow in his eyes when Lily cut ties with him, the anguish he went through when James and Sirius continued their harassments at school after the Whomping Willow incident. But you’d never seen such disappear written on his face before, as if he was preparing to lose something he held dear. You’d never meant to cause such emotions when you’d asked to come over for a few hours, but if you’d known the stress he felt now, you would have buried the thought deep in your mind, never to see the light of day and save him the hurt he felt bubbling inside him now. 

The way he tightened his hold on you made you feel all the more guilty. This was supposed to be a pleasant evening and Severus was acting as though you held a gun to his head. But you knew that once you’d entered his house and shown him you couldn’t care less about his living situation the mood would lighten. 

“You know I don’t care for that. Your home and your parents will never change how I feel about you,” you said, pulling his arm closer to your chest. Your words had the exact effect you’d intended as you felt the tension in his muscles release. His shoulders dropped slightly, but his hand tightened its hold on yours. 

Turning his head, Severus looked into your eyes and felt the assurance you offered seep into his recurring horrendous thoughts of abandonment. He always felt so safe with you, assured of the exclusion of the terrors the world offered when he was around you. As much as he hated to admit it, you were his rock, he couldn’t live without you and that was precisely why he feared your visit to his house. Why would he risk losing someone as important as you? And for what? A glimpse into his sad childhood on Spinner’s End? 

Nothing was worth losing you and if protecting his relationship with you meant you’d never meet his parents or step foot on Spinner’s End then so be it. He could live with hiding his past. He could learn to move on, he wanted nothing more than to move on, but he knew he’d never be able to find anyone as thoughtful or as loving as you.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you offered, watching him hesitate to climb up the first step of stairs leading to the front door. “We can turn around and head to a park or something.”

You couldn’t stand how uncomfortable he looked. You didn’t want to see him like this, your heart aching as his hands shook, stuffing them into his pocket, clumsily searching for his keys. He was like a delicate, expanding bubble, ready to pop at any moment, exploding into a mess of emotions and you couldn’t bear seeing him in such a state.

“No,” he said softly, retrieving his keys from his pocket. “We can stay.”

Stretching out his hand, offering it to you, he took another step towards the door, watching you slide your fingers against his palm, gripping him tightly as you stepped forward as well. As much as he would have liked to take you up on your offer, he knew he couldn’t back out now because he knew exactly why you wanted to come over in the first place. Curiosity was a trait you’d never tried to hide and one that made itself more apparent the closer you got as a couple. You wanted to know everything about him because it made you feel closer. You wanted to trust him, to know him better than anyone else ever had. He could see your hurt when he told you about Lily, how much he’d wanted to share everything with her, how he thought she understood him, so he knew you’d want nothing more than to gain his trust enough to share everything with you.

Slowly, he put the key into its lock and turned it, opening the door to his childhood, his summer prison. Everything he hated about himself was all stored under one roof, all about to be exposed to you. There were no words to describe the hatred he felt for this place, Lily being the only reason he had to look forward to returning every summer but as she broke off their friendship, his willingness to withstand this house sizzled away, leaving him with nothing but animosity. And then he met you. You were his new light, a clean breath of air amongst the smoky darkness surrounding him. You were his new reason for withstanding Cokeworth and Spinner’s End. Withstanding another summer under this roof was only made bearable by the thought of you existing within the same vicinity. 

The smile you wore on your face as you followed him, stepping within the threshold of his less than desirable home eased him a little and he wondered if you’d intended to appear happy simply because you knew how much it soothed him. You were always canny like that, catching onto his likes and desires faster than he was willing to admit, but it didn’t bother him. He was grateful for it and only wished he could return the favour. 

“It’s nice,” you said to him as he closed the door behind you. Any expectations Severus had given you were shot the moment you stepped inside, the walls bare, a singular couch and armchair squeezed into the shoe box sized sitting room. The couch was old, probably as old as the house judging by the chipped drywall and the worn-out floors. It faced the ashy fireplace which seemed to endure the same negligence Severus had said he’d felt over the years. The armchair’s cushion dipped in the middle as if an invisible being was sitting on it, the arms themselves scuffed from the ends. The only decor you could find was a singular picture frame of a couple you could only assume were his parents that looked as though it had been gathering dust for a while. 

“You’re not being truthful,” he replied bluntly as he let go of your hand. He took a look around the room and sighed. No matter how much he tried, there was no way he could have made the place presentable for you, but at least he’d managed to clean the floors of any broken shards of glass or stains left behind by whatever it was his father had decided to leave around the armchair. 

“The way you were describing it, Severus, I would have thought you lived in a dustcart.” You turned to face him instead of the room, placing your hands over his arms to get his attention. His hair was already over his face, his insecurities spilling out of him and you’d barely been here ten seconds. The house was quiet at least and you knew if you just sat down a while, he would get used to the idea of sharing his space with you. 

Severus’ gaze seemed to be fixed on the scenery behind you, so you slowly moved your hands up his arms and onto his shoulder, one reaching up to gently hook under his chin, encouraging him to break free of whatever horrible trance he was under. Your eyes finally met yet he still wouldn’t let go of the fear buried deep in his chest. 

“Sev, I love you,” you spoke softly, entwining your fingers in his hair, taking a step closer to him. Severus leaned into you, your touch a comfort he could find nowhere else. The tension in his shoulders started to ease until he realized he’d forgotten to thoroughly wash his hair today. His hand jerked up to remove yours from the shameful oily mess on his head, kicking himself for forgetting something so trivial. Already this day was going downhill, and he could only imagine the treachery that would follow. 

“Can we sit down?” You asked when you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away. You could tell he was still so uncomfortable and a part of you had begun to wonder if it was really his home he was ashamed of or if it was you. 

Severus, unaware of your own worries, slowly nodded his head, turning towards the couch, inviting you to sit beside him. His actions were almost robotic; one foot after the other, his legs bending enough to sit in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to do next, or rather, he wasn’t sure if you were disgusted by what you saw and were just too kind to say anything. He wouldn’t blame you if the next thing you did was ask to leave. In fact, he’d sort of expected it to happen at some point, he just had no idea when you’d ask. 

“Severus?” Your voice seemed so distant, like you weren’t actually here and for once, he hoped that was true. Your scent however, the glimpse of your face in the corner of his eyes told him otherwise. “Sev, if you’re worried about me don’t be. I’m fine with your home, I really am.”

Severus looked down to find your hand on his knee, your thumb slowly rubbing circles into his trousers as a way of comforting him. His lips gently twitched into the subtlest of smiles, his hand overlapping yours as he looked at you with softened eyes. He nodded his head in understanding and found himself silently thanking you and everything you were. Your presence, your joy, your mere existence was all a gift he was lucky to have received. 

“I-I can make tea,” he offered, hoping it would ease the tension around you both. You nodded your head and he got up from his spot, asking you to stay where you were, Merlin forbid you see another inch of this disgraceful prison. 

Severus creaked open the door that led to the rest of the house enough for him to slip through, quickly closing it after he stepped inside so you wouldn’t see your vision wouldn’t be tainted with any more of his embarassing life. He hastily made his way to the kitchen where he found his mother sitting near the window reading yesterday’s paper, likely stolen from the neighbour’s bin as she smoked what he guessed was her third cigarette today judging by the time. 

Opening the cupboards, he found the old rustic kettle and filled it up with water before digging for the matches and lighting the flame on the stove. He left the kettle there as he went back to find two clean cups. He’d opened all the cupboards in the kitchen before looking around countertops. He found two mugs, both dirty on the kitchen table, but one was chipped to the extent he was sure you’d noticed, so he cleaned the acceptable one and continued his search. Waving his wand, he watched the ditry mug levitate to the sink where it began cleaning itself. Looking back around the kitchen he found another mug on the countertop of the window, used as an ashtray. 

“Mum, can I use that mug?” He asked her, hoping she was in a well enough mood to simply wave him her approval. He watched with anticipation as she took another puff of her cigarette, acting as if he wasn’t even there. This was rather usual for her, but unfortunately for him, it meant she wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed.  

“Why?” She asked, keeping her eyes on her paper as she blindly tapped the end of her cigarette into her makeshift ashtray.

“I-I have a friend over and I wanted to make tea.” He paused and watched her eyes move from one side of the page to the other. “I’d asked you yesterday if it was alright for her to come over and you said it was.”

Sometimes he wondered if she cared more about her smoke breaks than she did him because it was moments like this where she’d pay more attention to those sticks of tobacco than she would her own son that had him questioning her priorities. The cigarette hung from her lips as she turned the page, staring at him like he’d said something damning. 

“A friend? Didn’t that Evans girl stop speaking with you last year? And why on earth would you want to bring her here of all places?” She suddenly seemed very interested in his evening plans when he’d explained to her multiple times over the last few days he was planning to have you over. But why would he ever expect her to listen when she’d done nothing of the sort the last 17 years. He in fact, could hardly remember a time where she’d managed to hold even half a conversation with him.

“Why do you care?” He snapped back at her. Frustration rose to his mind, his face turning red with anger. She had no right to question his personal life. She had no right to speak to him like he wasn’t worthy of speaking to other human beings. 

His expression hardened when he locked eyes with her, watching her take another drag of her cigarette as her lips stretched into an ugly frown. Tossing her newspaper in the direction of the bin, each page flying around, landing all over the floor, she put out her cigarette in the mug before pushing it with her index finger so it fell off the windowsill. 

“Clean that up,” she commanded lazily, easing off from where she sat and dragged her feet along the floor to the door. “And I suggest you see your friend out before your father gets home.”

He didn’t take his eyes off her until she was completely out of sight, heading up the stairs, the house whining in agony with every step she took. Storming to the door, he closed it roughly, immediately regretting it when he remembered you were in the sitting room waiting for him. It was then he’d realized the kettle had been whistling, steaming angrily before he removed it from the stove and turned it off. He looked to his side where the broken pieces of the mug mixed with the ashes of his mother's cigarette. With a sigh, he took out his wand and wove it over the area, trying to focus on the task at hand, putting aside his feelings towards his parents. 

He’d been so used to locking himself in his room or storming out of the house, returning when it was pitch black after interactions like that, but he couldn’t do that this time and it threw him off. He had to get back to you, get back to the safety of your bubble. At least with you, he could stand to be in this house, he could bear the backlash of his mother and the miserable life he led here. 

The mug put itself back together and he picked it up to examine it. He’d gotten rather good with this spell after he’d begun taking every broken dish, jar or whatever else his parents felt like breaking that day back to Hogwarts and fixing it the second he was allowed to do magic again. Turning seventeen was one of the best gifts he’d ever been given. No more restrictions, no more rules. He was able to do magic freely now and it had saved him more than once this summer, apparting away if they ever got too loud, cleaning his room faster than he’d ever previously managed. It kept him connected to his real home, even if he was miles away. 

Placing the mug in the sink, he washed and dried it, stopping the spell he’d previously cast and set aside the dishes for now. He walked over instead to the mess his mother had made and wove his wand over it to vanish the ash and newspaper. Finally, he made earl grey tea and even managed to find some biscuits to go along with it. His smile slowly began to return as he made his way back to you, opening the door with one hand as he carried the tray of treats in the other. Placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch, he took his seat next to you.

“Sorry, we don’t have any cream but there’s sugar if you like,” he said, gesturing to the small jar next to the cups. Your lips twitched into a smile as you watched him pick up the jar and unscrew its lid. He put two teaspoons of sugar into his tea before looking over his shoulder to see if you wanted any. 

“One is fine. Thank you Sev,” you motioned to him. He gave both cups a quick swirl before picking them up and handing yours to you. He sat back on the couch and looked down at the liquid swirling in circles, the awkwardness settling back into place before you spoke, thoughts of the consequences he feared to face for bringing you here returning to him.

“Is everything alright Sev? I heard something breaking while you were in there,” you said, nodding your head towards the door he’d just emerged from. You didn’t want to push or make assumptions, but Severus had told you his father was at work, which meant the footsteps you heard heading up the stairs not long before he returned to you were his mother’s. He’d barely ever spoken to you about her, but you knew he wasn’t too fond of either of his parents. You were never one to pry on someone else's personal life, but with Severus it was different. You cared so deeply for him, you wanted to know everything, the good and the bad. But common dignity stopped you from asking him before about his family, hoping if you were patient, he would eventually trust you enough to share everything without you having to ask. 

“It was nothing, I just dropped one of the mugs, but I managed to put it back together,” he lied, looking away to take a sip of his tea. He kept his eyes on his cup as he lowered it, his hair defensively falling into position over his face. You noticed his gaze dropping and knew there was more to what he was telling you. Your shoulders fell in disappointment as you realized today was not the day he’d open up to you. But you had to look on the bright side, he trusted you enough to bring you to his home and you’ve been here a full ten minutes without him trying to push you out.

“So, will I get a tour later?” You smirked as you took a sip of your own tea. “Will I get to see your room?”

“Why do you want to see my room?” He asked, confused at your odd request. Your smirk didn’t help matters either. He was now unsure of how serious your question was. 

Sliding closer to him, you bit your bottom lip, unable to suppress your growing smile. It was absolutely adorable when he wouldn’t understand some of your hints. The way his brows would furrow, his eyes shifting like a lost puppy unable to comprehend where he was. “Well, wouldn’t you want to see my room if you came over?”

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when you saw his eyes light up with understanding, a sly smirk of his own appearing on his lips, his cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. “I suppose. But my room isn’t really anything worth seeing. It’s small and cramped. I keep everything worth keeping in my trunk. Honestly, the dorms back at Hogwarts are more appealing.” 

“I don’t care how it looks,” you said, placing a hand on his knee in comfort. What you would give to see him just a little more proud of himself, just a bit more confident. Sometimes you wondered if all that affinity shared between you meant anything to him or if he even realized how much you’d been there for him, how you’d always be there for him. But in the end, your crazy thoughts of his negligence towards you was always just that; absolutely nonsense. “I only care that it’s yours.”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed. It was odd speaking to you about something he’d always been so insecure about, yet the feeling of worry over whether or not you would leave him after what you saw was beginning to dwindle away. Even with his mum unable to spare him a shred of decency, the evening had felt as though it was going fairly well thus far. At least you seemed to be enjoying the biscuits enough to eat a second even though they turned out to be stale. Still, you managed to find a way to turn the situation around, dipping them into your tea. You’d even finished your tea before him despite his vitality to speak as little as possible. He would much rather listen to you talk about how your summer had gone so far and all the plans you had for your last year at Hogwarts than speak of his home and life on Spinner’s End.

Life could never cut him a break and just when he thought he was finally grasping at happiness, Fate had to intervene, ruining any spark of joy ignited within him. Fate was cruel to him today just as she was cruel to him when he’d finally found a home in Hogwarts, introducing him to Potter while taking Lily away from him. Today, Fate had decided to shake up his plans with you and test him instead. The sound of the front door opening dropped his heart down to his stomach. He knew it was over the second his father took a step into the house, to be greeted by his son sitting with a stranger he’d been told nothing about. 

“What is this?” His tone showed resistance as he stared at you and Severus sitting on the couch. He was holding back like he always did when they were out in public. Your presence was taming him, but Severus knew it wouldn’t last long.

“H-hello,” you hesitantly tried to introduce yourself, feeling the tension in the air. You assumed the man who’d stepped inside the house was his father, but judging by the look on the man’s face, he had no idea who you were. Did Severus not tell either of his parents about your visit? Thoughts of disappointment and guilt filled your mind as you stood up, stretching your hand out to him. “I-umm, I’m (Y/N).”

The man squinted at your hand, staring at you in silence. You felt wary of the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in. Your introduction clearly doing you no favours. Awkwardly, you lowered your hand to your side along with your gaze in embarrassment as you sank back down on the couch beside Severus. 

“We were just drinking tea,” Severus finally spoke, trying to explain with as few words as possible why there was a stranger in the house. Looking at him, you questioned why his voice had suddenly lost all its power. It sounded as though he was speaking to a wall, you’d never heard his voice so monotone before and it frightened you. Perhaps he was right, and you shouldn’t have come over. 

Severus watched his father squint at the two empty mugs on the coffee table, evidence that you’d both finished your tea a while ago. Severus could already tell lies was all his father would see. The way his father’s black eyes pierced his, he knew nothing he said now would forgive inviting you over. 

“I see.” Severus felt a slight shiver run up his body from his father's simple words, but he still maintained eye contact with him all the same, hoping he could at least try and brace himself for what came next. He watched the man take a few steps around the couch, speaking one final word as he opened the door to the rest of the house. “Severus.”

His voice commanded obedience from Severus and immediately he knew he was being asked to follow him to the kitchen. Shrugging his shoulders, he let out a small sigh. His hair fell over his face as he closed his eyes, trying not to think about what was to come next. Reluctantly, he stood from his place and motioned to begin following his father through the door when he felt a hand tightly grasp at his, holding him back. 

“Sev, is everything okay?” you whisper to him, your brows furrowed, and your voice muffled with worry. Severus sat back down on the edge of the couch next to you, his gaze still lowered in shame of the interaction you’d just had with his father. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to come home until the evening. 

“Severus!” His mother’s voice echoed through the room, a sign he was in deep trouble. His punishment was always worsened whenever both his parents were there to discipline him and he wasn’t ready to face those consequences tonight. Not tonight of all nights. He couldn’t handle it knowing you'd be in the next room. 

“It’s fine, just- umm, stay here,” he told you quickly before standing up, pulling away from you and marching straight into the kitchen like a soldier ready for battle. You sat there frozen for a moment, the silence around you deafening. Severus looked so upset when he’d left you, wearing the same look he’d have after an interaction with James and his friends. This summer was supposed to be about building your relationship with him, growing closer to each other and enjoying your time together. You never thought you’d see that look on his face in his own home with your company.

“SHUT UP EILEEN! THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU!” The voice of his father roared throughout the house. Your heart stopped at the sudden burst in rage coming from the other side of the door. Your chest rose with panic and fell with worry. Against better judgment, you stood up and slowly walked over towards the commotion, fear of those doors bursting open as you got closer. Your palms pressed against the chipping paint as you listened in on the rest of their conversation.

“This is about your ungrateful son!” The man continued pouring his anger out on those in the other room. “How dare you bring some stranger into my house!”

Your heart ached for Severus. You weren’t a stranger to him and-

“I live here too!” You and Severus were a lot alike in more ways than one, but it seemed in this situation, your thoughts had aligned more than they ever had before. Unfortunately, it seemed his father didn’t care to allow Severus any sense of belonging.

“ON MY DIME!” The man screamed.

Your heart sank as the yelling continued, the more they spoke, the more you were certain Severus was living in a toxic environment, one you’d be forced to leave soon, forced to abandon the one person in this house that seemed to have a kind soul. You had to do something, you couldn’t just stand here. Intervening would be a horrible idea, you or Severus could wind up injured, or worse. No, you couldn’t let yourself be separated from Severus, you couldn’t leave him during a time like this. 

Every bone in your body resisted as you went to cautiously open the door enough to look through to the other side. You saw the light on in another room where all the yelling was emerging from, and quickly took this chance to slip through the door, closing it behind you and making your way up the stairs. You paused halfway up, crouching down in fear of being caught, hoping Severus could free himself of the entrapment his parents had suddenly put him in. 

“You should have quit that ruddy school a long time ago, gotten yourself a job and contributed to this household like I had when I was half your age!”

It seemed the man had no sense of pride, happy to have his son throw away his potential all for his own benefit. Helping him pay the bills instead of watching Severus build a future for himself was apparently the right priorities to him. Severus was a brilliant wizard, and you knew his skills would provide him with many opportunities in the future. You’d always told him that, even before you started dating, you’d never missed out on a chance to let him know how much he inspired you, how you had him to thank for so much of your own success at Hogwarts. It didn’t matter what his father thought so long as Severus knew he wasn’t wrong to focus on his studies, to strive for a better life than his parents, you were happy. 

You hurried up the rest of the stairs, optimistic they would finish their episode of abuse soon and began to look around on the second floor. You found two bedrooms and a bathroom. The first bedroom you would have assumed was the master bedroom as it contained a queen-sized bed, but the bundled up sheets and pillow in the corner had you second guess your assumption. It appeared as though someone had been sleeping on the floor, but when you entered the second bedroom, you knew that person couldn’t have been Severus. This second bedroom had to be his room. His trunk was in here, shoved into the closet, an old desk with one of its legs repaired with what appeared to be a chopped stick of a broom sat opposite of the twin sized bed that filled up most of the room. 

Sitting on his bed, you felt the springs in the mattress snap and you almost jumped up in surprise, but you kept yourself still, worried that any noise you made would bring you unwanted attention from downstairs. Poor Severus was already being scolded for your presence in this house, you didn’t want him blamed for the risky choice you made of sneaking into his room. Down below, you heard the sound of a door shoved open followed by footsteps before the shouting resumed.  

“She’s not there Tobias,” spoke his mother. Just as you’d suspected, they’d gone looking to kick you out of the house. What followed was a sentence you never thought you’d hear, something you felt so offended by, you would have given up your position just to prove them wrong. 

“Another friend abandoning you,” his father scoffed, a bit of spite in his tone as he talked down to Severus. “I could only be so lucky as to have the same privilege.”

Severus didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe you’d abandoned him, but he could however believe his parents scaring you away. He wondered how his summer would go now that you knew everything about his life. He tried to picture you receiving his countless letters begging to see you and throwing them in the trash without so much as glimpsing at his words. He tried to imagine how his final year would go without you by his side, celebrating his freedom alone, watching from afar as you went on to find someone else, all because of the horrible way his parents had treated you. 

You’d told him so many times, tried to reassure him so many times you weren’t going anywhere, but deep down he knew they were just words. They meant nothing and in the moment, you couldn’t handle the horrific truth. He didn’t want to believe it, but he didn’t blame you. He didn’t hold it against you for leaving. That luxury was only to be held by his parents. The luxury they’d held over him since the day he was born. Severus bowed his head in shame. He was embarrassed for opening up to you like that. For trusting you and thinking you’d be different. His shame slowly turned his disappointment into rage, tears pricking his eyes, daring to expose his emotions to his parents when he was already so vulnerable. 

Let them punish me. Let them relish in my embarrassment. I deserve it.

“I’m taking you to the mill tomorrow,” his father informed him. “You’re getting a job to pay back all the money I put into you the last 17 years.”

His life was over. He knew it and so did his parents. He was doomed to work for his father for the rest of his life, always in his debate. He wasn't to graduate Hogwarts, he wasn’t to send you any letters, he wasn’t to dream of the great wizard you said he could be. He said nothing in response, the pain he felt in his chest, his face, his ribs, his stomach, his heart all too great to allow him the energy to speak a single word. 

He watched his mother walk back to the kitchen and lift up the chair his father had thrown at him, tucking it into the small kitchen table. One of its legs was broken and he knew if anyone sat on it, it would break. But so long as it appeared put together, so long as it looked fine, he knew they wouldn’t care. His father went and sat down on the chair no one but him was to use and waited for his mother to serve dinner. 

Severus once again found himself completely invisible to them. They’d let out their emotions, lashed out at him and made sure he knew his place, then went back to their lives, pretending like he didn’t exist. He’d only wished they’d done that when you were here. If they didn't acknowledge your presence like they did his own right now, perhaps you’d still be together. Perhaps he wouldn't have to live the rest of his life alone, but such a mercy was too much to ask of course. He was made to be punished, he was born to suffer and that was to be his fate until the day he died. 

Slowly, he walked out of the kitchen, not to make a sound lest he be noticed again. He held his breath with each step he took, exhaling when he reached the second floor. He turned to make his way to his room, twisting the knob, ready to crawl into bed and drown in his tears, but the second he opened the door, about to throw himself onto his mattress, he was met instead with a sight he’d never dreamt of seeing. You were there, waiting for him, waiting to comfort him, your arms warm as you wrapped them around him. His lips trembled as he lost himself in you. He was falling in love with you all over again, the rush of emotions all too great to conceal. 

He’d barely managed to close the door, trapping you both in the cold darkness of his prison before everything he’d kept buried inside for 17 years spilled out silently. He trembled as he let his body lean on yours. His muscles giving out, too tired to continue standing, his mind too beat to stay strong. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was too exhausted.

“Severus,” you whispered into his ear, testing the waters, knowing you couldn’t let yourself be heard. His tears were silent, and you knew you had to oblige to the same rule, but you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t let him think what you knew his mind would have concluded not moments ago. “I will never leave you.”

His grip tightened when you spoke, reminding him of why he’d opened up to you in the first place, why he’d trusted you. He hugged you with as much strength as he could muster, letting his tears leak from his eyes, soaking your shirt as you stood there frozen in time. He’d lost himself in his mind before feeling your hands move down to his waist, pushing him away just enough to guide him into his bed. The covers were pulled over his body as he nuzzled into yours, feeling its warm embrace comfort him as you held him once more. His tears began to dry as the safety of your presence soothed him, telling him it would be alright. He had nothing to fear, nothing to worry about because he had you and you weren’t going anywhere. 

Adjusting your position, you slid down the bed enough to lay on your side, facing him. His eyes were half open, his breath heavy as you rose your hand, gently cupping his jaw, your thumb slowly swiping his cheek. He relaxed under your touch, your eyes, your smile assuring him he was safe. The darkness welcomed him as he closed his eyes, focussing on your touch, the only sound in the room, his heavy breaths. 

“Sev?” You broke the silence, whispering his name. “I think you should come stay with me awhile.”

You’d been reluctant to offer an escape from this house, but the way he looked, the exhaustion on his face broke your heart. It angered you and you couldn’t let him stay here. You couldn’t let him endure one more second of the abuse in this house. 

His eyes opened and met yours, your chest aching as the light in his eyes faded away. He slowly nodded his head in agreement, fear of what his parents might do to him if he was caught trying to run away bubbling in his mind. He was afraid, yes, but staying here and living the miserable life they’d planned out for him was a much worse fate than anything else he imagined they would do if they caught him. He’d been wanting an out for so long, and here you were offering him just that. 

~

Next Chapter

~

@sleepysnapesnake​ @wanderingtrails @darkthought15​ @bush-viper-cutie​ @fluffymadamina​ @dracos-mudblood​ @mitchiesdungeon​ @severuslovebot​ @ravenhopeflyte54​

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (2)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 2: The God

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: sexist remarks

Word Count: My jaw is selectively pounding now that my wisdom tooth is out and the stitches are in place. It feels so weird because its not like you can simply scratch an itch or around the itch in some way.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"How does this look?" Zaira is holding up a green dress that goes down to your toes in length. You give the deep shade a once over and turn back to your laptop. "Meh." Zaira tsks. "I mean-" you breathe and give your attention to your friend- "it's okay. For you. For me?" You shake your head and shrug before trying to discreetly get back to the screen. "Bullshit. You look amazing in green." You try to find the mouse on the screen. "Are you sure?" The question is bland. "Of course! No one can carry this like you! And for the sake of all things holy, stop looking at your death again and again!" Your brows furrow at the statement, turning back to Zaira, who still stands there with the green dress, except for one thing- the usual workspace of white and grey is now replaced with an eerily familiar dark forest with trees trying to touch the sky. "What?" It is nothing more than a whisper, this word erupting from your lips at the change in scenery. Your mind is at the edge of a realisation waiting to erupt when your hand feels an unwelcoming heat. The immediate reaction is to get your arm away from the laptop, or at least that is what you think you are doing considering the last saved spot of this occurrence in your memory. But there is no laptop. No chairs or tables.  Just a bonfire in front of you and your hands covered in blood and tied in ropes tearing through your flesh. And beyond that fire are figures in the dark chanting verses that are alien to your ears. But just as the chanting grows louder, you can feel a cloud of dread begin to loom of your heart; growing bigger by the second. Zaira! You are screaming her name but your voice isn't audible and you cannot see her anywhere either. Zaira!! You call out for her again when the figures seem to be getting closer to you, the anxiety in your chest beginning to hurt even more.  ZAIRA!!!

The loudness of her name in your conscience jerks you awake with the dread transported straight out of your hallucination. Still breathless and sweating from the nightmare, your head pounds at the sudden jump to the reality of finding yourself lying under a fur skin as heavy as you inside what seemed like a tent. From where you lay, the roof is a muddy beige colour dense enough to block sun or rain. Turning your head to your right, you can see a side table housing a copper goblet along with a copper jug. I hope to the Gods that water. I don't care if it's laced with poison at this moment. Turning to your left you are taken a little back to see familiar golden eyes staring from the copper jug back at you, so close that that saliva ridden tongue could lick you if it wanted. "Hi," you greet the familiar creature from the night of your nightmare, your heart still trying to dilute, resting by your side. The creature tilts its neck a little before you can see its tail rise up and swing from side to side. Such a doggo. You try to get up- with much effort, thanks to this animal duvet weighing just as much or maybe more than you- and breathe the cold air around you. Even though the anxiety of this recent incident is still looming around you in the corners you don't want to look at, it is a relief to feel the quiet around you. And the weird doggo looking at you seems to make those corners lighter, convincing your heart that it all ended not so bad at some point. Moving the fur duvet off you to get to the water on your side, you suddenly find yourself quickly putting the fur back on at the momentary realisation of something major amiss, bringing back all that anxiety that was watching you from the corners. "Where the fuck are my clothes?" you whisper right at the doggo despite knowing that poor thing can only swing its tail whenever you look at it. "They were tattered beyond repair." The voice immediately brings your duvet up to your chin before your eyes dart towards the entrance in front of you. No fucki-oh. A woman with skin paler than the pale described for Bella from Twilight stands at the entrance of the tent with a bunch of warm clothing. Her eyes carry a hint of grey and muddy green in them. She takes it upon herself to have already gotten permission to walk towards your side and place the clothes she has got in front of you before going back to secure the entrance. "You were fortunate to be alive in those deadly woods of the dark," she mentions while taking a thermos out of her dress and pouring the contents in the bowl kept on the makeshift table; all the while with her back towards you. You, still cautious of the eyes around you, slowly snuck the clothes inside the duvet to put them on. Only when putting them on, you realise the lack of a bra or panties; just a loose cotton camisole in their stead. ...okay. Maybe they didn't know my size. You look back at the woman busying herself around the tent. All you can see is the huge- and seemingly heavy- overcoat made out of an animal. Or maybe they...don't have the resources? Great, Y/N. Go be a judgmental b for the people who saved your life. The gown is a deep blue shade that neatly wraps around your shape and is put in place with the hooks, the last step being securing it all with the one string tied in what only you would call a bow. "So, it was you who saved me last night?" The woman brought you a bowl with steaming hot stew, bursting out in laughter on hearing your question. You stand there watching her immediately suppress the laughter as if she had been caught red-handed for a grave crime. "My apologies for what you just saw. It was not me who saved you." And before you can ask who it was, the woman gathers a wide bowl filled with water, a couple of hand towels and two bowls of what looked like homemade ointments, and walks out of the tent. You are about to go thinking about the materials that woman just took away when the only being you are familiar with, gets up from the bed, jumps down and struts out of the tent. "Wait...don't leave me," you whimper in a low tone, gathering a bit of strength to walk out right behind him. . The clearing in the forest has been turned into a camp with soldiers bustling in any direction you look. Swords, bows and arrows are being used for practice in one corner and the same are being mended in the other. Helmets akin to the ones Vikings wore can be seen on top of many heads. So can the undercut and braids. "Is this a cosplay fair?" you ask the one guy who passes by close to you. He is nearly the same height as you, but with a lush red beard and hazel eyes.  He- and his two friends- observes you from head to toe, almost making you realise how out of place you already look. "This is a war camp, missy. One where you have no reason staying." You mock a laugh at the audacity of this person. "I will decide the reason for my stay myself...boy." You start to walk away, trying to find any familiar figure in this quite realistic cosplay village. But last you remembered, there has been no such fair going on in the vicinity of that cursed town. A heated hand captures your arm and forces you to turn around. A wince comes out of you and flashes of that gory incident move before your eyes. Especially the face of that man. The Viking guy takes a step towards you, not letting go of your hand in the first wank. "Sigmund! Who is this wench with a quick mouth?" Sigmund, the taller of the three men, with bulky features and a sharp nose huffed. "Someone who needs to learn her place, Kare." "Aye," the last of the three speaks, "she does not look like help. Not in that silk she wears." Kare smirks through that unruly beard of his. "Why, are you that prince's mistress then, lassy? Is that why you came out from those royal tents, eh?" Kare turns towards his lads to laugh, who had slowly gathered now to watch the show, giving you something new to be anxious about. Agni, on the other hand, makes his way through this crowd to come and stand next to you, observing the situation. "Fucking dogs," you whisper under your breath- which you are trying your best to stop from trembling- and begin to walk away again but Kare is already hopping in your path. "Why in such a hurry, my lady?" He bows and turns towards his lads to let his words be heard by everyone "Give us unworthy lads a chance to find out how well you warm the royal beds, eh?" But the 'lads' seem to be having a sudden seizure. Either that or the joke did not seem to register. A sudden movement behind you and all the eyes staring past you assure you in your heart that it is the former one. "Your lads do not seem to find that funny, Kare." A voice not too deep but certainly somewhere right under the surface with a weight that can be felt in your bones, speaks from right behind you, freezing you where you stand. It takes some time for you to turn around and look at the source of the voice. And once you do, you realise how tall this man stands. His pale skin is radiant and his features sharp. You could draw straight lines just by referencing his cheekbones. His black hair- perhaps the only one with black hair in this cosplay fair- is neatly braided in braids at each side and the rest of the hair left open. What shampoo does he use? "I pity your mother and sister," this man continues, "for meeting your lads in an alley someday and being asked the same question." He does not stir his gaze from Kare, constantly piercing through that man's existence without so much as a smile.  "Apologies, your grace." Your grace?  You turn to watch Kare and his buddies drop their heads down and then it hits you. Your grace?!!! Your head whips around with the air of surprise as you watch this man in a new light. I mean, yeah, he kinda looks like a...'your grace'. "It is not me you should be apologising to." He doesn't even blink. He is as stoic as a boulder and everyone here revolves around him. "Apologies...my lady." The words bring you out of the trance that this man's face has created for you and you turn to watch Kare bow to you along with his 'lads'. "Ansa!" the man calls out for someone, finally turning to look at you. You have to catch your breath when those green eyes bore into you, the stare not too piercing and neither too soft. Just balanced. But damn the skies for it is making you lose your balance somewhere inside you. "Yes, my lord," the familiar lady comes out of the crowd to stand before him with her head low. "How is the weather today?" He simply puts the question. Within seconds you realise what the question really is about. You try your best to stand still in this chilly weather despite the sun high in the sky but it is as if he can smell the chill off you. "It's cold my l-" she realises it too, running to the nearest tent to grab a fur coat just like her Lord's and put it gently on your shoulders. "My apologies, my lady. Apologies, my lord." "Are the armies ready for the west front, Aren?" "Yes, your grace. Two battalions are ready to march to the mountains. They wait for my signal." Aren, a tall ginger with soft features gives a warm smile when you look in his direction. "Very well. Go for it then." And with that command, Aren walks to the space vacating in front of you, spreads his arms and transforms into an eagle to fly up and away beyond the nearest mountain. You are left with your jaw unhinged as you try to make sense of what just happened, turning towards the man in charge here; all the while pointing at the sky. "H-how?" "Walk with me..." that commanding voice a couple of minutes ago has transformed into a soft tone that captures a completely different personality of this man. "Y/N." "Y/N," he repeats the name as if to memorise it, and lets his arm gesture you towards the direction you are asked to walk. "I am Loki, of Asgard. Pleased to make your acquaintance." "Asgard?" you wonder the name out loud, confusion visibly dripping from your face. "There is no place by the name Asgard on the maps? Is this further north in the Alps? Wait...are we still in Norway or did we change countries?" The guards by the biggest tent make way for Loki and you to enter. Unlike the place you woke up in, this one houses everything fit for a king. From the bed to the cutlery. And everything has a colour theme going on for some reason. A real deep shade of green. Even Loki's fur coat carries blues and greens as if they had been specially plunged from the deepest corners of the oceans on earth. "Y/N-" he gestures you to sit down on the settee by the foot of the bed while he pours you wine in a goblet- "I have to tell you something. Be kind enough to hear me out before jumping to conclusions." You take the glass from his hand and sit down on the settee. Oh! cold hands! Is he okay? It's really chilly out there. "What?" You wait for him to start. Loki stands by the conference table and faces you, his hands working with each other as he looks at them before finally letting his gaze meet yours. "You are no longer on earth. You were transported to Asgard last night during the Pagan ritual, where you were conveniently made a sacrifice, and would have died if not for Agni hearing your prayers and tearing that scum apart." Silence. Loki’s features show no emotions when he narrates the reality to you. In fact, he waits for a reaction from your end, carefully studying those y/e/c eyes as they blink at him in unadulterated innocence, turn away to look at Agni and then come back to him. Ultimately, you take a sip from the goblet, letting the wine go down your throat, the involuntary reflex of tasting something not to your liking naturally coming over your face. Waiting for a few seconds, you bring the goblet back to your lips, this time gulping down the contents within a breath. "Okay." Loki looks at you with a focused glare before tilting his head a little. "Okay?" You nod. "Are you-" Loki pauses to come and sit down in the chair right in front of you but at a respectable distance- "okay with everything that I just told you? All the parts of it that do not make sense to a human?" You breathe in a lungful. "Oh, Gods! No. I am overwhelmed at this point. To even consider the fact that I am not currently on earth and that I was about to be raped by an eighteen-year-old cultist if not for your wonderful doggo and you, I am considering. Because now that I look at you I completely put you in the silhouette I saw last night. And I thought this was some adult dress-up show going on until a legit person just turned into an eagle and fucking flew away right in front of my eyes. I mean...it would take a good amount of CGI to actually make that happen just in the movies, forget real life. And if I am not on earth, the thought of getting out of doing mindless labour because your boss is an asshole is very appealing, mind you. Even though that means I have been thrown straight into a pit of testosterone-filled sexist Vikings who look like they will pounce on me the first chance they get. So...yeah. I am...I...uhh...have decided to shut my brain down till-" you simply shrug before breaking into nervous laughter and bringing the empty goblet back to your lips, raising it as far as it could go before it decided to release a drop into your desperate mouth. Loki blinks at you before breaking into a smirk that he hides from your eyes. It feels like he has watched you slowly crumble a little within the last few moments when all you did was talk. He has noticed those shaking hand movements and those trembling lips that force a smile to show they are doing absolutely fine. He has observed that shift of your fingers to scratch an itch on your exposed neck and that movement of turning that sole ring made out of iron in your index finger; hiding your anxieties in the rotations of that little circle. And now he watches you trying to dissolve the incoming anxious winds in alcohol. He knows this look too well. The look of fear; fear of the unknown. Loki raises his hand to you. "Allow me to refill that. With something better." You watch his hands and make a mental note of those long pale fingers and how good they would seem wrapped around anything. "Something better? I don't think Asgard could provide me with a Long Island Iced Tea or a Jeager Bomb. Or a Zombie." Loki simply chuckles and you find yourself stuck on that toothed smile of his. Is he the same guy who was dragging his soldiers in the mud like anything? Taking the goblet from you, he gets up and walks towards a little cabinet that opens up like a medieval bar.  "I sympathise with you being so far away from home. But I can assure you these...Vikings will not touch you or even think about pouncing on you ever." You furrow your brows and let your arms rest on each side while you tilt your head a little in question. "They know it better than to even think about what I claim as mine." You feel little chills go up your spine at his words, your legs going one over the other as you wiggle away certain scenarios from your mind. Damn! He should write dialogues for the entertainment industry. "Excuse me, sir," you press while raising your brow, "I may have fallen on your royal highness' land but that ain't making me anyone's property...considering this is your property." You cannot see it from where you sit, but the God chuckles at your audacity of raising your voice at him. He comes back to you with your drink. You notice that this time it is not the familiar red wine waiting for you in the goblet but something relatively darker and comparatively with a more medicinal odour. "No one will harm you. Agni will make sure of it. Isn't that right, beast?" You turn to watch Agni sitting right next to your feet, immediately wagging his tail at the mention of his name, contently growling as assurance. You notice how familiar this creature look to the Pitbulls back on earth. Give them pits some pointed skeleton for their backbone, a pair of horns and huge canines and these two breeds will be a copy of each other. "And we will find you a safe passage home once we reach back to the city." Home. unfortunately for you, the first thing at the mention of 'home' is the rush of crude flashbacks from last night of that horrid nameless town. No matter how hard you try to breathe in, the scenes keep on coming. Both Loki and Agni seem to sense the uneasiness creeping onto you. Your racing heartbeat and uneasiness of breath can be heard by them as clear as you can. "I hope you were not too attached to your clothes. I had to tear them apart to treat your wounds," Loki announces, gulps his herbal drink and walks towards the entrance of the tent. "Yeah, no problem. They were just clo-wait what? WHAT? You-" you get up and lower your voice for the fear of any third person hearing it- "you tore my clothes?" He nods with the most neutral expression you wanted to punch. "Yes. As you mentioned, they were just clothes. And nothing I haven't seen before. Now come on." You wonder whether to be relieved or angry with this one. Putting that thought on the back burner to simmer for a while, you gulp down the goblet without breaking any eye contact with him.  "Where are we going?" "To get you out of your clothes again," he states without skipping a beat and you have to question all the good you have thought about him till now. Son of a bitch! What an ass- "You stink. About time you took a bath."

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 9 ~The Christmas Spirits~

Previously in Christmas Eve Rush

Her hand flew to her chest, and her eyes almost popped out at the realisation. "Good Lord. You're in love with her, aren't ye? It's all over your face. Oh my God!"

"Please? We dinnae have a lot of time," he whispered, almost close to tears. "Ye're the only one who can get through to Claire."

A few heartbeats passed as he held his breath. 

"Fine! Let's do this!" Suddenly spurred by excitement into action, she quickly grabbed a piece of paper and pen and handed it to him. "Write down your number, and I'll update you after I've called Claire."

"Ye will?"

"Yes, yes ..." she muttered. "Come on, chop-chop!" She clapped her hands at him.

Elated with the turn of event, he didn't waste any more time and rapidly scribbled his number and pushed the piece of paper back to her. "Thank ye. I owe ye big time." When an afterthought came to him, he shoved his hand into his pocket, took out a spare key to his cottage and placed it on the table. It was meant to be for Claire. "Another favour, I have a dog and kitten in the house and ..."

"I got it." She grinned and made a shooing motion. "Now go!"

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

Claire sat at the airport's cafe, every sound of someone's laughter and the sight of happy couples holding hands, driving a knife into her chest. She still had a few hours to go before its time to go through security. With a heavy heart, she miserably flipped the pages of a glossy magazine, unseeing its pages' articles and pictures. It had taken every iota of her resolve and will power to leave Broch Mordha, and now Annalise had made her book a later flight because her friend was on the way and wanted to talk. Damn her for making this more difficult! In truth, she wanted to know what Jamie had told her friend and wondered what he would have said if she'd confronted him instead of running away. Now that she was finally out of his life was he even thinking about her? Staying in Broch Mordha would have most probably increased the likelihood of her believing his excuses and running back into his arms. She just couldn't handle the emotional fallout.

"I beg your pardon, is this seat taken?" a soft feminine voice asked.

Claire briefly glanced up, offered a weak smile and motioned for the woman to sit. She wasn't in the state nor mood for small talks so she put her head down and pretended to read, hoping the woman would take a hint.

Restless, she glanced again at her phone to check the time. Annalise should be here soon. Is she planning to fly with me? I hope not! She noticed the cafe was beginning to get busy with people waiting for love ones to arrive or the check-in counter to open. Tomorrow at this time, she'd be home. The thought of spending Christmas in London in the cramped apartment made her doubly miserable. She loved the open spaces of the Highlands and quaint villages. Although the weather could be quite grim, the landscape's natural beauty and loads of fresh air more than made up for it. With its tranquil settings, it was an ideal place to start her writing career. She'd put it on hold for far too long, working for a publishing company that gave her very little satisfaction and yesterday she'd even fantasised of moving to Broch Mordha and making it a reality to be closer to Jamie. How could I have been so stupid?

"Highlands in December is romantic, isn't it?" The woman sharing her table smiled pleasantly. "I love this place. There's something magical about it, don't you agree?"

Ah, another English woman to fall for the Highland charm! She was about to give some generic answer about the Highlands' ancient history lending the romance a hint of mysticism when the harsh truth chose that moment to free itself. "Kind of deceiving though, isn't it? I got caught up in that so-called magic, but some wanker decided to exploit it and use my heart to make fertiliser. I've only known him for a couple of days, but I can't stand being in this place anymore without thinking about him and his stupid, stupid handsome face. And the way he looked at me." She blew a breath and blinked back the tears. "I guess I was just plain naive and a bloody dimwit for thinking smooth talkers only existed in big cities like London. I tell you what, they're rife everywhere and you can never be too careful."

If the woman had been surprised by Claire's outburst, it didn't show. "Now, now, I'm quite sure there is a perfect explanation. Lovely and sweet as you look, I see the wisdom that belies your age in your eyes. You don't seem like a person to be taken by someone's smooth line at all."

She let out an almost deranged laugh. "Well, obviously, I am. I took one look at a beautiful face, and all logic went south. So there," Claire huffed.

The other woman looked away and sipped her tea. She was much older than Claire thought - in her forties maybe or could be fifties, but it was hard to tell. She had a dark, sleek modern bob hairstyle that contradicted the mumsy grey slacks, woollen jumper and lack of makeup and accessories. Her face was kind though, and there was a serenity in her demeanour she found comforting and familiar.

Claire regretted her oversharing and decided to shut her mouth and continued reading.

"I met my husband many years ago here. Not far from where we are now. A place called Broch Mordha."

Claire's head shot up. "Oh! Is your husband Scottish?"

"No, he's English. We met one summer while watching a Highland game. He lived in Broch Mordha while doing some research for work, and I was on holiday. We fell in love and eventually married. And every year from thereon we celebrated our anniversary here. It's a very special place for us."

"That's very sweet," Claire remarked, trying not to think of Jamie and what could have been for them if he hadn't been a knobhead.

The woman let out a soft laugh and daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Sweet isn't the description I would have used to describe the circumstance of how we met; nevertheless, it turned out my darling husband is my soul mate and marrying him had been the best decision I've ever made in my life."

"Good for you ..." Claire whispered, subtly glancing once more at the time on her phone. She hoped Annalise would be here soon because the last thing she needed right now was to hear someone else's happily forever after. But in the end, curiosity got the better of her. "So what made you change your mind about him?"

The woman sighed and took out her book. "My husband was an insensitive clod, and when he eventually saw the error of his ways and asked for forgiveness, I gave him a second chance. Forgiving him didn't change the past, and I realised in the end, if I hadn't forgiven him, my actions would have robbed me of the best years of my life. And of course, a beautiful daughter who turned out to be everything I've ever hoped for and much more." She smiled and then turned her attention to reading. Obviously, oversharing was now over.

"I see ..." Claire muttered. Well, what had she expected? A magical solution? She almost laughed out loud. No such thing!

It was too late for her and Jamie anyway. She was on her way to London, and he'd probably moved on now that she was gone. It was definitely better this way. Out of sight, out of mind.

**********

He switched off the ignition of his car and texted Annalise to inform her he'd arrived at his destination. She'd messaged him earlier letting him know Claire would be at D'Lish cafe. Scanning his vicinity, Jamie drew in a lungful of air. He'd only been in Inverness Airport's parking lot a few minutes, and already his nerves were on tenterhooks. From the congested traffic and beeping cars to stressed people madly rushing about, Jamie realised how far from his world he'd strayed, and the distance was only under an hour's drive. 

He hadn't even stepped out of his car, and already he was counting the minutes till he was back within the peaceful haven of Broch Mordha. But he'd made up his mind. He wasn't going back without Claire and had taken his passport with him just in case he would have to follow her all the way to London. How he was going to manage that with his unpredictable episodes, he had no idea. He hoped he would be able to keep his panic attacks at bay long enough until he found her and convinced her to come back home.

"I'll walk in with you," Harry said quietly out of the blue as if he'd sense his trepidation. "My flight isn't till later, and my wife is probably enjoying her cuppa tea somewhere."

The tightness in his body relaxed, and Jamie nodded gratefully. Harry seemed to always understand his situation, popping out of the blue at the strangest times. Jamie had never questioned it and put it down to simply Harry being unusually perceptive and a good friend.

They quietly walked side by side towards the airport and when they entered the building, moving bodies and a sea of faces swarmed his vision. The racket and clamour of people going about their business surrounded him, and Christmas crowds trying to make it home before Christmas jostled too close, their cacophony of voices chattering excitedly. 

Jamie swallowed the mounting panic and fixed his thoughts on Claire, breathing deeply in through his nose and with a heaving chest, letting it all out with a whoosh. His eyes darted and saw people smiling and nodding animatedly, laughter and children's squeals infiltrating his consciousness, their sound accompanied by an air of anticipation that told him it was a season of joy. 

Jamie managed to put a grim smile on his face and concentrated on getting one foot in front of the other, apologising now and again whenever he accidentally bumped into someone, almost stumbling like an intoxicated man. Although aware of Harry's presence, perspiration coated his skin, and he could feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. The usually comfortable soft fabric of his sweatshirt chaffed and squeezed him like a clamp almost suffocating him. The chaotic din typical of an airport during the holiday season came in a huge rush of waves, at first faint, then building to a deafening sound that roared in his ears, shattering his foundation and foothold. 

Oh, God, please, not now. Jamie knew it was happening. Attempting not to panic, he began to employ a technique that more often than not worked. He tried listening to his mother's singing in his head, the one that stuck most in his mind and brought him comfort when he'd been amidst a conflict in a war zone, a song that sang him to sleep when he was a wee bairn.

He stopped a few metres away from the cafe where Claire was supposed to be waiting and took a moment to draw in oxygen, clinging to his mother's singing in his head. Goodnight, you moonlight ladies. Rockabye, sweet baby, James. Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose. Won't you let me go down in my dreams? And rockabye, sweet baby, James. 

He dimly recognised where he was, busy eateries, cafes and shops lined a wide area, a focal point for those waiting for love ones to arrive or passengers before heading to security that led to the departure area. Someone's child screamed nearby, and the sound of suitcases dragging on its wheels seemed to rumble and reverberate on the ground. Christmas light decorations that normally shimmered unobtrusively and gave a soft glow suddenly seemed to flash all around him, and the Christmas songs playing in the background became disembodied sounds. Jamie froze, gripped in the throes of a colossal panic attack that forced him to sink halfway to his knees.

Everything seemed to fade in and out, but it was Harry's voice he eventually clung to, his mother's singing hushing into the recesses of his head. The Englishman repeated his name and grabbed hold of his elbow, preventing him from collapsing to the floor and leading him firmly away from the moving crowd. Jamie pitched himself against the giant column and fought the crippling dread chipping away at his sanity. 

He glanced around frantically, but Harry's hand grabbed his face and forced him to look straight into amber eyes. 

"Breathe, Jamie. Everything is going to be alright. Just keep breathing." 

"H-Harry ...I n-need to ..."

"It's alright. I know. I'm not going anywhere. Just breath."

Jamie unzipped his jacket and fought for air, sucking in a lungful. And then, again and again, gasping and coughing as he doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees. Harry's strong hand massaged his back in a circular motion, the older man's presence calm and controlled, breathing with him, encouraging to gradually take in more air. 

It took a while to normalise his breathing, his heart to calm down and the cold sweat to evaporate. As he regained more control, though wobbly at first, he straightened up. Gathering his bearings, he ignored the odd looks from passersby, by now already used to it.

Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "Feeling much better?" 

Jamie managed a nod as the initial feeling of shame and embarrassment took over the panic attack. Why am I even here? Claire deserved so much better than this and all his fucking issues. On top of it all, he'd managed to make her feel cheap when he was nothing but just half a man. There was no way she'd go back to Broch Mordha with him.

"Oh no, you don't. I know that look in your eyes. You've made it this far, old sport," Harry whispered fiercely, straightening his jacket. "Don't you even think of going back home without trying!" 

Jamie blinked, confused. What the fuck? What does Harry know? But there was no time to ask questions, as he caught a glimpse of Claire past Harry's shoulder. She was in the cafe in the motion of getting up, her head bowed down while speaking on the phone. 

Last night, he'd held Claire in his arms and now, the reality of the moment hit him hard as he saw her hand gripped the suitcase next to her, reminding him she's waiting to board a plane. He could hardly think over the furious pounding in his chest as a combination of relief at seeing her and fear of rejection surged through him. He barely registered himself, moving towards the cafe when Harry put a hand on his arm. He turned to meet his friend's eyes. "You're on your own now. For now. Remember to breathe."

Jamie swallowed hard and nodded.

"Now go and hurry."

**********

Claire panicked, her eyes darting around the cafe. Annalise had just called and confessed Jamie was on his way to talk to her. Her friend had insisted on giving Jamie a chance to explain and that he'd made a mistake. 

But Claire couldn't do this. She didn't have this sort of experience nor the emotional strength to handle this kind of situation. All she knew and was aware of was how much Jamie had hurt her with his words. 

She quickly stood up, said goodbye to the woman sat on her table, grabbed her bags and made her way out of the cafe. She kept her head down and tried not to look around in case Jamie spotted her. She began to walk faster, weaving through crowds of travellers as she wheeled her suitcase, images of Jamie encroaching her thoughts. A new voice was trying to make itself heard, telling her maybe she ought to listen to what Jamie had to say. But what was there to say? She'd seen what he wrote with her own eyes, and there was no explaining himself out of it.

She was just getting into the queue for the security check when a shout cut through the hubbub surrounding her. 

"Sassenach!"

She stiffened, and her hand went slack around the suitcase's handle, sending its bulk toppling to the floor. It took a few heartbeats for her to turn around and face Jamie, afraid her resolve would collapse if she looked at him. When she finally saw him, he stood a few yards away, suspended in a sea of bustling chaos. Perspiration beaded his forehead, his face pale and eyes a little wild as they searched hers, snagging on the way she snatched her suitcase to an upright position and pulled it closer to her side. As always, ever since she first laid eyes on him, his unusual male beauty made her chest ache. A head taller than most, he looked out of place in the busy surroundings, his blue eyes penetrating through everything in their wake to reanimate her heart.

She waited for something to happen, but he just continued to stare at her, his body swaying a little. He looked like he was about to faint. Worry, combined with fear prickled her skin when she recalled his accounts of his PTSD condition. She'd made it this far, and now she was torn between going over to him and making her way to the security.

"What are you doing here?" she said a little harshly.

"Dinnae go in that plane.”

"It's too late for that."

Anguish fogged his handsome features. "I need ye to hear me out, Sassenach. Please."

Claire shook her head. "What is there to say, Jamie? That text you wrote, told me everything already."

"Please let me explain ..."

"I already know what you're going to say, Jamie. You're going to say you didn't mean to write that text. It's classic and cliche at the same time and utter bullshit." Claire's shoulders sagged, and she swallowed hard. "No, I'm sorry, I can't ..." 

She started to step into the queue, but stopped, her heart caught in her throat when a passerby in a rush accidentally bumped into him, and he almost vaulted over. She saw how much it took out of him just to remain upright. She made a move to come to his aide, but he stopped her with a motion of his hand, telling her he would say his piece without any help. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took several deep breaths, discomfort, and distress in this busy environment evident on his face. 

"You don't look well, Jamie. You should go home," she said, glancing around, aware of people looking at him.

"Damn it, Sassenach," he wheezed. "I'm gonnae make ye listen even if it kills me."

A stabbing pain went through her heart. "I can't do this, Jamie. I'm going."

"No!" He took another unsteady step forward. When Claire stayed put, relief washed over his face. "What I wrote to my sister about you was wrong ..."

Rage replaced the hurt she was feeling. "You made it sound I was just a notch on the bedpost," she snapped, angrily.

Jamie winced as a woman nearby gasped and glared at him, but they both ignored her. "No, Sassenach. You were never that ..."

"Your words winter fling said it all. What else could it mean?"

"Sometimes, what I think and what I feel doesn't translate into words ..."

"Or you don't think at all," she interrupted, tipping her head back to keep the tears from falling.

His head dropped. "No, I didnae think. What I said was inexcusable, and no explanation or apologies would take any of the hurt I caused ye back."

"It was a horrid thing to say about someone!"

His face flickered with regret and self-loathing. "It was, and I'm an arsehole for it."

"They why? Why Jamie? Is that how you talk about your conquests?"

His face paled even more. "No! You're not that at all. What we had was special, and I've never felt like this about someone before."

"You could have fooled me ..."

He took a careful step forward as if afraid she would bolt. "Sassenach, I said what I said not because that was what I thought about you and that's the truth. Partly, I text those words to get my sister off my case. She was badgering me for getting involved with ye because she was worried about me falling for someone from the city due to my condition. Another part of the reason I wrote that had to do with my fear of getting emotionally attached. I thought by labelling what we had as temporary, it would be easier to let ye go when the time comes. It was wrong ...so wrong. I wish I hadnae said it."

Claire could barely see him through the blur of tears. The awful pain she'd had in her heart all morning waned a little. She forced her feet to move, but the emotion in his voice kept her rooted in place. 

"Christ, everything happened so fast between us. And I was rushing ahead before I could comprehend what was happening. When ye told me ye live in London, I was convinced that nothing could come out of this ...us ...whatever this is we have ....because I wouldnae ken how to live in yer world and it wouldnae be right to ask ye to give up yers. When I asked ye to extend yer stay, my intention was to make as many memories with ye because I needed to face the truth of my limitations. I was determined not to be that someone who held ye back and made ye regret what ye could've done. I said to mysel' whatever time ye could give me, I'd be grateful. Yet, here I am, begging ye not to get on that plane."

She wanted to go to him, take him in her arms and forget what had happened, but she needed more. She needed to know that this thing between them was more than just a handy itinerary with chemistry tossed into the mix. For her, it had always been more, but he's a man, and maybe it's just all about sex for him.

"Sorry, Jamie." Bracing her shoulders, she pulled her suitcase behind her and joined the line for security check-up.

"Wait!"

She and every person within hearing distance in the queue turned around to look at him.

This time, Jamie didn't flinch and looked at her straight in the eyes with unwavering intensity. "I cannae let ye go without giving it my best shot. I've used my condition as an excuse for far too long, yet not once did ye ever look at me as someone damaged. I dinnae want my condition to stop me anymore from going after what I want. I swear to God, ye havenae seen persistence yet, Sassenach. Ye have nae idea what it looks like until ye've seen it on me. I've fought for my life in a war zone before, and I'm doing it again now. If ye get on that bloody plane, be rest assured I will be on the next flight behind yours. I will show up in every God damned place ye go to until ye give me the time of day. And I willnae stop until I get it through yer pretty head how much ye mean to me. And if ye come back to me, I promise ye, I'm gonnae work my arse off to prove to ye every day how special ye are. Even if it means moving to London to be closer to ye. All I'm asking for is a second chance."

Looking at him, she knew he meant every word, and there was an intensity about him, that told her he would go through with his threat of following her to London. A lump stuck in Claire's throat, so huge she could barely speak. Her face crumpled, and she let the unshed tears she'd held all morning flow. Unable to stand a moment longer without feeling his arms around her, she let go of her grip on her suitcase and began to make a move towards him. Jamie fell back a few steps, both hands flying to rest on top of his head, relief and disbelief visible in every line of his body. She covered the distance separating them in three steps and flung herself into strong arms that circled around her without hesitation. Applause, cheers and whistles from passengers who had witnessed the scene erupted around them, making them both laugh through tears. 

"Jesus Christ, Jamie," she stammered with a hiccup. "You really know how to cause a scene and really make it count." 

A hand tunnelled through her hair, gripping her neck so he could angle her head and kiss her. "I'm so sorry, Sassenach. Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he muttered against her lips. "I was an idiot. I thought I wasnae gonnae make it." 

A shudder passed through her. "I almost got on a plane and spent Christmas on my own." 

Jamie fell back into the nearest seat, taking Claire with him. Obviously spent from all the emotions. "Dinnae remind me ...ever again, please. But just so ye know, I have my passport with me. I was ready to come after ye. Today." 

Claire clung to him tighter. "It's Christmas, and we're together. Let's just focus on that." 

"Christ, I thought I knew fear." His breath shook and fanned her skin. "That was the scariest situation I've been in." 

She let out a sigh, inhaling his scent from the crook of his neck. How had she thought for one second that running away would have been a better option? She thought of the woman she spoke to earlier in the cafe and smiled. 

Jamie shook her a little. "Ye're going to think this is mad, but I dinnae want to take another second for granted, so I'm just going to say it, so ye ken once and for all." 

"Say what?" she whispered. Jamie tilted her face up for a slow, deep kiss, then stood, lifting her in his arms. 

"I'm in love with ye, Sassenach. I ken it's too soon, but I want it out there just in case something happens and I dinnae get another chance to say it, or I do something stupid like making ye cry. Life's too short for over-analysing things and keeping something like that to myself." 

She smiled through fresh tears. "I'm in love with you too, Jamie. And next time you say something stupid, I'm just going to get into a fight with you about it, instead of running away."

Jamie's laughter rumbled in his chest before his face turned serious. "Merry Christmas, Sassenach. May it be our first of many more to come."

Claire reached out and clasped his face with her hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips. Her heart broke open, and for the first time, all the pieces clicked together in a perfect puzzle, and everything made perfect sense. Because she'd learned early on you needed to take the bad with the good and embrace it all. Despite Jamie's condition and fear of uncertainty, she'd taken a gamble and trusted her guts, and by giving him a second chance, they'd ended up with the best thing of all. 

Love at Christmas. 

She knew it wasn't going to be smooth sailing forever. There were going to be long talks of how they ought to proceed with their relationship, compromises to be made, and probably many teething problems during their phase of getting to know each other. But as long they both keep their hearts open, they should have a fighting chance.

"Merry Christmas to you too," she whispered, her voice raspy with emotion. 

"Shall we go home?" he murmured, smiling.

"Yes, let's go home."

Hand in hand they left the airport and headed back to Broch Mordha to celebrate Christmas.

 Dear Readers,

Firstly, thank you for your best wishes and feedback from the previous chapter. This latest update was supposed to be published on Christmas day. Unfortunately, because I was so overly ambitious about the storyline, I was unable to deliver. I didn't want to rush it after having gone through the story in my head many times.  Rushing it probably would have made me miss many of the elements I wanted to put in this story.

Anyway, I had a lovely quiet Christmas. With everything that's happening globally, it was more of a time for reflection for us instead of celebration. I am just grateful that my love ones are safe and healthy and hope you're own dearests are as well. As for this story's direction, I don't know how many chapters there are to go, but I can safely say there is another one after this. I will try to publish before New Year, and if I am unable to do so, I wish you all a New Year full of exciting possibilities, good health and lots of love. Keep the good vibes rolling and take care. X

[smallblip]

LeviHan/JeanKasa go on a double date? :D

HEEEEE! My babies! I think I hijacked it and wrote levihan meet cute because I can’t get this out of my mind! I hope this was cute for you💖

Child’s play

“But mommm!” Mikasa whines, her mother snaps her a look before she can think of stamping her feet.

“Levi is going with you or you’re not going at all! It’s not safe when it’s late! You know that!”

Levi is past protesting. He tries to be as compliant as possible, after all, his brother and his wife have agreed to let him stay in their house rent free after he got a new job in the city. He’s a thirty year old man about to accompany his fifteen old niece on a date. The word he’s looking for here is ‘chaperone’, but he hasn’t been around kids enough to know.

Mikasa huffs one more time for emphasis before she heads out for school. “We’ll meet you at the diner at five after cram classes...” Mikasa says to Levi, utterly defeated. And Levi feels bad for her really.

When Levi heads to the diner he’s surprised to see how tall Jean actually is. What’s even more surprising, is someone else bounding behind them. Another thirty year old by the looks of it. Mikasa waves Levi over sheepishly.

“Uh... Levi... Uncle Levi, this is Jean and um... Ms Hanji... She’s our biology teacher...”

Hanji extends a hand towards him and he considers for a second before shaking it. What’s this? Another thirty year old accompanying a fifteen year old on a date?

“You mean chaperone?” Hanji says, eyes blinking, and as she processes Levi’s words, a hushed “wait... This is a date?” Levi gestures for her to sit with him at another booth.

“What did you think this was?”

Levi can see the panic swimming in her eyes. “I... I don’t know? It was after cram class and I was starving and they were talking about a diner and I-“ she freezes, “oh my god... I crashed my students’ date...”

“Welcome to the fucking club...” Levi mutters.

“Thank god you’re here... Or I might have just shared a booth with them...”

Levi raises a brow, “and you would’ve stuck a third straw in their milkshake too I suppose?”

At that, Hanji guffaws. Levi smiles. And they say he has no sense of humour. They order food because Hanji is literally minutes from dropping dead.

She peers over to Jean and Mikasa when the waiter leaves with their orders.

Even from where they’re seated, they can clearly see that Jean is nervous. Poor boy is chuckling dryly at everything and tripping over what little words he manages. But Mikasa is looking at him with all the patience in the world, and she’s blushing behind her milkshake.

“Aww... They’re cute...” Hanji coos, “Jean’s a good kid...” she says.

Levi knows, sort of. Mikasa has been telling him bits and pieces about her love life and truth be told, he doesn’t know why she does it? It’s not like he offered good advice, or any advice at all. And Mikasa sure was taken aback when he had said “he sounds like a jerk...” when she had told him about a certain boy named Eren she had a crush on. But he also listens when she tells him about this new boy- Jean. Someone she’s been friends with for a while but has never really got round to paying enough attention to see that he has a massive crush on her.

“I never would’ve thought... Mikasa used to like...” Hanji trailed off, taking a furtive glance at Levi. Maybe she’s said too much.

“Eren?”

“You know?” Hanji’s eyes widen with interest.

“You know? Do teachers gossip about their students?”

She laughs, “oh you have no idea... Things get boring around the staff office most times... The other alternative would be to watch Dita scroll through thousands upon thousands of pictures of his dog... Granted it’s a cute dog but still...”

“Tell me about it... My colleague just had a baby and guess what everyone in the office has been talking about for weeks...”

“Ooof...” Hanji says. She understands. Nanaba’s just had a baby and she still doesn’t know what possessed her to show pictures of Nanaba’s baby to everyone at school. It’s just a really cute, really neat baby.

“I won’t tell anyone about this date though...” Hanji crosses her heart.

“Because if you do you’d have to tell them you crashed it?” Levi says.

“Exactly.”

—

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Hanji asks between mouths of her burger. She has abandoned the knife and fork that was given to her.

Levi shrugs. He doesn’t really want to know what his niece is talking about with what could be her boyfriend if this date goes well. “They’re playing footsie...” Levi supplies, gesturing over to where Jean and Mikasa have their ankles pressed together under the table. Jean’s saying something and Mikasa laughs. Now they’re both blushing like idiots.

They see Mikasa politely ask to pause the conversation and she whips out her phone to type something. Levi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket-

“We know you’re staring...”

—

“I think my uncle has a thing for Ms Hanji...” Mikasa says. If there’s one benefit of this entire situation, it’s that it makes for good dinner conversation.

“What?” Jean says, he doesn’t want to sound dismissive but- “with the way he’s glowering at her?”

“Oh that’s just how his face is... He’s also staring at her...”

Jean looks over to where Hanji and Levi are seated. Levi is indeed staring, there’s this look on his face that can only be described as constipated.

When Jean turns his attention back to his table, there’s an extra bit of steak on his plate.

“You don’t want it?” He asks.

“I want you to have it.” Mikasa is smiling at him and he thinks she’s his dream girl. He plucks the Maraschino cherry from his milkshake and places it in Mikasa’s.

“But... That’s the best part!” She says, confused. Jean knows. Mikasa does have a fondness for cherries.

He smiles, sure his face has gone red by now, “I want you to have it.”

—

“So why are you chaperoning anyway?” Hanji asks. Jean lives two streets away from them so they’re walking towards home. Hanji tags along for the conversation. Somewhere between the diner and home Jean has plucked up the courage to hold Mikasa’s hand.

“There’s been sightings of a weirdo in a hoodie in these areas crouching in the bushes... My brother and his wife decided it wouldn’t be safe for Mikasa to be out at night...”

They’re walking on the street across Jean and Mikasa to give them some space, and Hanji lets loose a laugh that startles everyone in the vicinity. “I think that weirdo would be me...”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been going around collecting mushroom samples. There’s a great variety growing around the different neighbourhoods.”

“And you do that in the middle of the fucking night because?”

“Because... I can’t sleep?” She smiles, and Levi is determined that she’s absolutely crazy.

“But... Maybe it would be best not to tell Mikasa’s parents that... I mean... I wouldn’t mind... You know... Tonight was nice...”

“Hanji... We can hang out without chaperoning... Besides... I think Mikasa and Jean would prefer if we didn’t tag along.”

They pause a distance from the house and avert their gazes when Mikasa gives Jean a kiss on his cheek.

“I think that’s our cue to leave them alone... Wanna walk me?” Hanji says and they only turn back to look when the door shuts and Jean stands in the corner of the street and whoops. He does a little private jig and Levi is smiling, “I think it went well...”

Levi realises the walk isn’t “just a walk”, and is actually a fifteen minute bus ride away. Hanji offers to part ways at the bus stop but the night is still young, and there’s a breeze kicking up. There’s no harm in walking. They are at Hanji’s apartment block and she’s toeing the gravel, “so... This went well...”

“It did...” Levi says, “maybe we could do this again some time...” because he’s new to this city and it would be nice to have friends. Also he had received a text from Mikasa in the middle of dinner telling him to just go for it, and maybe his niece does give pretty good advice.

Hanji is grinning, there’s a dust of pink high on her cheeks and Levi thinks maybe it’s the light. “You wanna come in? We could be a couple of thirty year olds watching reruns of Friends...”

Levi feels his heart race, he thinks it’s a little ridiculous for a thirty year old to be standing under a street lamp panicking over what may be a crush, but here he is, doing just that.

“I hate Friends...” he says, very eloquently, “but I’d like that...”

[renjunthings]

tired.

requested by: @painted-hills​ ;

a/n: i hope this is angsty enough for your taste

-

it has been the third time you cried that day. everything was numb to you as you just kept on crying. for what? for everything that has happened to your life ever since you met him. 

     jung jaehyun of the jung corporation. he was young, rich, and the ceo of the corporation. everyone thought he was cocky but to you, you think he’s just misunderstood. underneath the stern demeanor he was soft and shy boy.

     the first dates were sweet. he’d take you somewhere far and not in those fancy expensive place, just chilling in the beach or up by a cliff after two hours of hiking. jaehyun had once said, “i just wanna be normal for once far away from people who only cared how much i make in a year.”

     it honestly made you fall in love with him more at the thought that you were his anchor that steadies him whenever he feels drowned in work. 

     meeting his parents was by far the most nervous situation you got in. coming from an average family, with your father working as an electrician in a local town outside of seoul and your mother bedridden due to her bottom half being paralyzed. you were the other source of the family’s money as you still have a younger brother to support in his college tuition. 

     the second jaehyun’s mother met you, you knew she didn’t like you nor did his father. but you had to face them strong as you wouldn’t want jaehyun to be worried.

     you weren’t used to seeing jaehyun with his family or this side of his to be exact. he seemed closed off from them, only answering their questions straightforwardly, nothing more, nothing less and it made you wonder why he acts like that. but you just shrugged it off.

     the dinner was slow and painful with their questions relating to money: how you make in a year, how your father makes in a year etc. it was suffocating. thankfully, jaehyun noticed your discomfort and changed the subject. 

     after the dinner, both of you went to his apartment which soon was both of yours, and he apologized for how is parents came off. you weren’t mad, just offended at how lowly they think of someone who doesn’t reach their standards.

     the two of you proceeded to just chill and forget everything by watching a movie and cuddle in bed. 

     but all of that has changed these past few weeks. after a week of meeting his parents, jaehyun seemed... stress, as he usually does, but this time, something is definitely off. 

     it was quarter to eleven when jaehyun arrived from work and you just staying up waiting for him so you will have your late night plans done. you hear the door open and the usual, “baby, i’m home” is gone and for a second you thought it was someone else and went out of your guys’ bedroom. 

     you see jaehyun loosening his necktie while taking off his shoes as he heaves out a sigh. he then sat down on the couch and grabbed his head in one hand and closed his eyes.

     “hey, baby,” you said, slowly walking up to him, “do you want me to make you something? i can make you soup-”

     “just leave me alone for now, y/n.”

      you were left shocked. he has never said that to you in the two years you’ve been together. he’s just tired, you convince yourself or so you thought.

     giving him no response after he shuts you like that, you went to the kitchen to cook for him anyways, thinking about just leaving the dish on the table before you sleep but you heard the door slam shut. 

     “jaehyun? baby?”

     you were left with silence. you hurriedly checked the living room and he wasn’t there; your bedroom, he wasn’t there; the bathroom, he’s gone. you noticed his suitcase is still on the same spot he placed when he arrived but his shoes were gone and the necktie was left on the couch.

     at first you don’t know what to do. what would you do when your lover just left you without saying anything? you were restless, sleep not even nearing your body despite how many times you’ve tossed and turned for a position that might pull you in a slumber.

     you checked the time, 3:01 a.m., you groan upon reading those numbers off your digital clock on your bedside. it was the break of dawn yet he was no where near home. the bed feels so empty without his warmth, without his reassuring hug, without him. 

     you didn’t lose hope, though. there was a string of hope that’s tugging your heart that everything is okay and you shouldn’t worry. but it’s hard. the future is unknown and inevitable, you’re afraid of it coming. eventually, you fell asleep.

      you woke up to the alarm ringing, reminding you to get up and go to work. all of the events last night were forgotten until when you wake up to an empty bed. but before you could do anything, the smell of bacon and egg wafted into the air, your stomach reacting noisily. 

    confused, you went out and headed to the kitchen and saw jaehyun cooking. you ceased in spot. he was already in his suit, a different one from last night, and he was groomed ready for work.

     he noticed your presence and gave you that damned smile of his melted your heart, “good morning, baby. i made you some breakfast.”

     you slowly made your way to the table as he finished cooking. he had already set the table with food ready to be devoured. he placed the last pieces of bacon unto a plate and caught you in a surprise with a peck.

     confuse wouldn’t be the exact word to describe what your feeling right now. you wanna get mad at him for leaving abruptly and come barging in and being sweet again. 

     “what’s this for, baby?” you asked lightly, giving him a hint to how things were last night.

     he avoided eye-contact and proceeded to place eggs and bacon on your plate, “i just... wanna make something for my baby.”

     to say you weren’t flustered would be a lie. you gave smiled shyly and continued eating, disregarding everything that happened and accepting the tasty breakfast he made for you. 

     you thought that would be the only instance he’d do that. but no, you were wrong. it kept on going like that for days, weeks--you were tired of it. leaving you and pain and just coming right back like nothing happened. sometimes he wouldn’t come home after two or three days and he comes back acting all fine. you were like thrown into a never-ending roller coaster. everything is on edge whether you’ll fall helplessly or just another calm moment before a storm starts.

     you were here again, crying in the shared room as he wasn’t home again. his colleagues not knowing where he is, not even his dear best friend can answer. 

     after much deduction, you decided to stay away for a while, take a week off from everything and just go home.

10:24pm, to jaehyun; hey imma head out for a while. i will be back soon i promise xx

     you packed some of your clothes as you have no clothes in your family’s house. you texted your father that you’ll be going home for a week, saying that you miss them.

     you hailed a cab and drove you to your destination. the drive was long but you were dying to go home as you wanna take a rest from the toxicity of you and jaehyun’s relationship. upon arriving, everything is dark except for the street lights and the lights outside your house. walking towards your home, you noticed the television was on and thought it was probably your dad. you knocked and after a few shuffling of the feet, the door opened and it was indeed your father. 

     days passed in your family’s home, you have caught up with how your father is, or how your brother is doing at work, or the condition of your mother. it was wholesome, to be back in your family again. you’ve told your father about your situation and the only advice he said to you was to talk to him. a relationship can’t work out without communication and trust, he says. he was mad but he knows adding anger into the situation wouldn’t do good and just told you to think who really is benefiting the relationship.

     jaehyun left you multiple texts and calls as to where you are but you ignored him, afraid to shatter once you’ve answered his calls. you knew sooner or later he’ll know where you are staying as he also has power and money to do that.

     it was a perfect wednesday when you were up early, sweeping the front yard and doing the daily chores as your father and brother were away for work and school and your mother having her breakfast. it all went down when a shiny black car parked in front of your house. 

     a man went out of the car, sporting a tux and shades, jaehyun scanned the area until he saw your figure, frozen as you looked his way. he closed the car door and took off his shades, “can we talk?”

     you sighed, placing the broom aside, “not here.”

the two of you are in the local park, sitting on a bench underneath a big tree far from other people’s vicinity.

     silence was what’s between the two of you. both not knowing how else to start talking until he spoke.

     “why is this happening,” he asked in a soft voice but came out as a statement.

     you want to scream at him, curse him for ruining everything but you have no energy as it was all spent crying and him sitting in front of you make you weak in your knees, you couldn’t do it.

     “are you okay, baby-”

     he reached for your hand but you flinched away, surprising him for your actions.

     you looked up and met his eyes, “you are so selfish, jung jaehyun.”

     he visibly flinched, not expecting for you to say that. he scoffed, “i’m the one being selfish here? you were the one who left-”

     “you are so selfish. leaving me and then coming back as if nothing happened. you ignore me every time i asked relating to that matter,” your tears are swelling up in your eyes, “aren’t you tired, jaehyun?”

     “y/n, baby, please, i’m sorry-”

     the tears are falling down your face as you have the hard time keeping it all together, your body shaking and your heart aching, “are saying sorry for my sake or for your sake? i hate myself for accepting you despite you treating me like nothing. but doing it a multiple times is too much.”

     he was lost for words as his eyes were now focused on the table in front of you, unable to meet your swelling eyes.

     you were losing composure but you still went on, “you don’t know how much i feared that one day, i’ll wake up and realize you did not love me anymore, that you just pretended everything for my sake. you don’t know how many times i thought you might not come back,” you laughed out bitterly while tears stained your face, ”the first time you didn’t come home for three days-- three days jaehyun! i couldn’t sleep, i can’t concentrate in work, i couldn’t do anything because i was worried about you.”

     you were crying heavily, your hand trying to wipe the endless fall of tears, “i feel like a toy you only play to when you’re in the mood. i’m tired of pretending to be fine when i’m not. i’m tired of feeling unnecessary, jaehyun.”

     “y/n-”

     “good bye, jaehyun,” you left, not sparing him a glance and him not even trying to stop you.

[oh-phineas]

I’ll Be Looking at the Moon... | Phineas + Ferb (feat. Bob)

In which Phineas and Ferb reunite two very, very long-lost lovers

Date: 29th January

@ferbmanofactionfletcher

PHINEAS

It had taken a couple of months, but it was finally time. As soon as Phineas had seen the invite for the medieval-themed party, he knew this was the perfect event to bring Bob to, because not only was the whole town invited, but Bob's armor wouldn't stick out the way it might at other events. This also meant that this was Phineas and Ferb's only chance to help Bob find his lost love. For a long time.

So, like, no pressure, right?

Once they arrived at the party, Phineas motioned for Bob and Ferb to follow him to a quieter corner where they could regroup. "Alright, is everyone clear on the plan?" Phineas said, signing along as he spoke.

FERB

Leave it to the rich people of Swynlake to give them the most serendipitous set of circumstances. He had been both surprised and actually not at all that someone was throwing a party where the theme was almost too on the nose to a problem they needed solved.

He had been hoping they could have helped Bob out in the safety of their house, using the power of people's internet fingerprint to track down this person, but it looked like they were having to resort to doing it the old fashioned way. Which made sense, considering the person they were helping was old fashioned.

Ferb nodded his agreement and Bob shrugged, the armor clanking against itself. "I feel safer knowing that you will catch more attention with your attire than I will. What possessed you to dress as a fool?"

PHINEAS

“I dunno, I thought it’d be funny.” He shrugged as he signed the words. “Plus the suit-of-armor thing might be fun for you, but this is way more comfortable.” Phineas looked around for any sign of the man Bob had described. “Have you seen him yet? Anything that matches our research, Ferb?”

FERB

Having not caught Bob's word of judgement, he simply looked between the two and waited. He already felt out of place among the large crowd of people that had turned out for the party, the uncomfortable feeling of knowing that he was only going to cause problems for this mission. Ferb had half a mind to just ask if they wanted him to stay in this corner as a look out instead of following them around like a useless weight. But all he did was shake his head in answer to Phineas.

"What about over there?" Bob asked, distracted and moving without them back into the party.

PHIN

Oh no. Bob was on the move. Phineas could not let Bob out of his sight— what if he made a scene? This was not the place for a duel, and Phineas really didn’t want to call attention to the priceless artifact Bob was wearing.

“Bob! Wait! Stop!” Phineas called, running after him. “You’ve got to stick with me!”

FERB

Like string being pulled, Bob the lead, Phineas going after, Ferb followed the line with only a few seconds of hesitation as he tried to put together what had happened. Phineas' quick movement and body language communicated that he hadn't anticipated, he was just reacting. Which meant Bob had shot off on his own, which meant— probably nothing good.

"Then keep up, lads!" Bob turned to stop, managing to knock into a woman who gasped in surprise and turned around, eyes wide.

PHINEAS

“Sorry!” Phineas shouted to the woman Bob had knocked into. He grabbed onto Bob’s elbow, both to try and slow Bob down and to anchor himself to the knight so that Bob couldn’t run off again. “Did you see something? You’ve got to keep us in the loop, Bob!” 

FERB

"I beg your pardon," Bob said to the woman who took both apologies with a confused but appreciative nod before Phineas moved between the two. Ferb stepped to Bob's other side so that he couldn't escape that way either.

"I thought I had, but the room only continues to move." He turned from one boy to the other. "Are you sure coming here was a good plan?"

PHINEAS

Phineas was increasingly beginning to wonder that, too. They didn’t have much to go on— just Bob’s memories— and it was possible the person they were searching for wasn’t even here. Normally, Phineas would have suggested they divide and conquer, but he was not letting Bob out of his sight. Not after that stunt.

He did his best to sign along as Bob spoke so that Ferb could follow. “It’s the only one we’ve got,” he responded. “This is literally the only place you could go and kind of blend in. So that’s what we’re doing. Do you have a better idea?”

FERB

His brow furrowed as he tried to make out what Phineas was signing, not quite able to catch on to anything but the final sentence. He looked up to see who was being asked that, and was relieved to find Bob and Phineas looking at one another instead of him.

Bob bowed his head, as much as he could within the armor, giving a sigh. "Only to return to what I was doing before all of this. Maybe we should—"

"Wow!" Someone else's voice cut in. A man pointed a finger at the three of them as he approached. "That is an amazing costume! Did you buy it or make it yourself?"

PHINEAS

Bob looked offended. “This is no costume, it’s—“

“A highly accurate replica piece! Bob’s a really well-respected cosplayer, aren’t you, Bob?” Phineas cut in, clapping Bob on the back and then wincing in pain and shaking his hand. That armor was no joke.

FERB

Ferb could only watch the interaction, unable to help Phineas if he needed it. (He probably didn't.) This was why he always felt useless in situations like these where his phone wouldn't understand what conversation to pick up on and his lip reading skills were rubbish. Why had he even agreed to come along instead of insisting Phineas take someone more competent?

"So you just had that lying about?" The man's eyebrows rose as he nod, impressed before he turned his head. "Oi, Martin! Come look at this!"

More people in the near vicinity turned their attention then, too.

PHINEAS

Oh no. Bob was drawing attention from the crowd.

There was a possibility this could work in their favor. Maybe Bob’s lost love would see the crowd gathered around and come over to see what the big deal was. Or it could be a disaster, because someone could realize this was the Green Knight’s armor and try to fight him. Phineas was trying to avoid that.

Ferb would know what to do.

He left Bob’s side (oh well) and went over to Ferb. “People are gathering. What do you think? Should we get him out of here? Or do you think it’ll help him find his guy?” Phineas signed frantically.

FERB

The motion of the crowd turning toward the three of them did catch Ferb's attention, eyes flicking to meet the ones that were catching on the armor the encased Bob. Thinking the opposite to his step-brother, that Phineas would have the plan, he turned to see what he had up his sleeve— only to find it was being asked of him.

He swallowed. Okay, no time to freak out or freeze up, he ignored the churning in his stomach and heat on his skin under the scrutiny of strangers.

"Neither," he signed back. If they left it would end their chances of finding who they came here for and all of this would have been for nothing. If they allowed Bob to become a spectacle and someone turned this party into a fight they would have a bigger problem on their hands. "We need to get the attention off him. We need to— discredit the fit. Make them think it isn't all that great."

PHINEAS

At first, Phineas thought Ferb was going to suggest a distraction which he personally thought he would be pretty good at. But this was a better idea— the opposite of a distraction. They needed to get people to disperse.

Maybe if they could just get Bob to give up this whole Green Knight shtick...

“Bob, listen...” Phineas said through gritted teeth. “I need you to follow my lead.” He took a deep breath. “You know who has a better suit of armor? Uncle Waldo! I saw him somewhere, and he said that if anyone can guess which Knight of the Round Table he’s cosplaying, he’ll buy then a drink! RIGHT, Bob?”

It was the best Phineas could think of, anyway. Uncle Waldo was definitely not here tonight.

FERB

If anyone here was going to convince a crowd that there was something more interesting to look at than the Green Knight's Armor, it was going to be Phineas Flynn.

Ferb only nodded along, at Bob's side, though he had no idea what was being daid.

Bob, disgruntled, still caught on to his helper's meaning. He may not have used it in some time but he was no stranger to the art of subtlety. "Quite right, lad! In fact he was the one that helped me track down this costume! I am more of a uh— a...a what kind of cost-player would you describe me as, Mr. Flynn?"

PHINEAS

"An amateur. Trying his best, but you're really gonna wanna see Waldo's," Phineas said loudly. "I mean, this thing's basically made out of paint and tin foil. Lame."

He looked around. Already, two of the onlookers were starting to argue about whether it was more respectable to have a homemade or store-bought outfit. Okay. Phineas could work with this. Sow a little chaos. They just couldn't get involved and draw more attention to themselves.

"While you're all here-- we found a wallet on the ground! Belonging to a..." He looked at Bob. "What was his name again?"

FERB

As more onlookers turned away, getting back to their night as they were convinced that the display was nothing special, Ferb caught sight of the young woman from before (that Bob had accidentally hit in his excitement) continuing to watch with interest.

"What?" Bob turned to look at Phineas, searching his face for a moment, before catching on once more. "Oh! Oh, yes— erm, a chap by the name of Charles Ellis."

The woman's demeanor changed, her spine straightening as if in recognition. Ferb looked to Phineas, waving a hand to catch his attention. When he caught his gaze he nodded toward the woman.

PHINEAS

Phineas would have missed the woman if Ferb hadn’t alerted him. He was too busy planning his next announcement, thinking about what he could say to disperse the crowd. So when he caught Ferb’s eye, he was grateful that someone was paying attention.

“You said you know him? Charles Ellis?” Phineas confirmed, looking at her searchingly. “Is he here?”

Something shifted in Bob’s demeanor. Phineas waved him over.

FERB

The woman looked a bit stunned at being called out, the couple in front of her moving to the side to allow her to step forward to meet the three of them. With the mystery seemingly resolved and no longer in need of more help, the rest of the crowd that had still been paying attention went back to the party, leaving the four of them to their own.

"Uhm, maybe! I don't know. I'm Sloane Ellis and Charlie, or Charles, is my uncle! He's invited me as his plus one tonight. Though I have never known him to lose anything like a wallet." She smiled politely, nodding to Phineas. "May I see it?"

PHINEAS

"One second," Phineas said, then turned and summarized for Ferb in BSL: "It's Charles's niece. She's here with him. I guess we should tell her there isn't a wallet...? Should we tell her about the armor?"

As Phineas was signing, Bob stepped forward. "Where? Where is he? I've been looking for him for seventy years!"

Phineas winced, wishing Bob hadn't led with that particular detail. "He's... exaggerating."

FERB

Wallet? What—? Nope. It didn't matter, Ferb didn't need to know in order to answer the basic question that was being proposed here: did they tell her the truth or not? He went to answer but Bob stepped forward, blocking his view of Phineas.

Sloane leaned back, blinking wide. "Seventy years? What are you talking about?"

Ferb side stepped around them to stand beside Phineas. He held one hand out flat and brought the other one down on it, perpendicular, the sign for truth, and then pointed to the woman with an encouraging nod.

PHINEAS

Phineas hesitated. What if Sloane didn't believe them? It was kind of an unbelievable thing. But Swynlake was full of unbelievable things, wasn't it? And Ferb had lived here long enough to know what people would at least consider.

So Phineas exchanged a glance with Ferb and took a deep breath. "Okay, it's... kind of complicated. There's magic involved. So you can probably already tell where this is going. It might be simpler if we can explain with Charles here. Do you... know where he might have gone off to?"

But just as Phineas said it, Bob was already wandering off again. "Bob! Stop!"

FERB

Ferb knew it was a long shot to get anyone to believe but he was also of the belief that the truth was better than any lie they could have possibly come up with to get the woman to find her uncle for them.

Her face only grew more confused at the attempted explanation, hesitation making her mouth open on an answer she hadn't decided on yet to say aloud. But Bob was already making it for her.

A man, who was not quite frail but clearly no longer in his prime and dressed in a matching blue tunic to the dress the woman wore, was making his way through the crowd with two drinks in his hand. He nodded to Bob as he passed by, "That's quite an impressive get up you've got there!" only to continue on to Sloane, holding out on of the drink. "I crossed the room and feel like I took a lap around the town! Yeesh, I bet the people who live here get a work out just walking to their front door!"

He took a sip of his drink and then noticed the boys standing with his niece, and swallowed hastily. "I didn't realize you had found company! Hello, who's this lot then?"

PHINEAS

Phineas could handle this from here. If there was one thing he was good at, it was telling a story. He took a deep breath and started, gesturing for emphasis like he was giving a TED Talk. "So, basically, we were wandering around in the woods on Halloween and we were kind of running from a werewolf-- not important-- what is important is that we came across our new friend here, and he asked us if we wanted to--"

"...Charles?" Bob said softly. Phineas couldn't see his expression, but the tone was enough to make Phineas realize he could maybe stop talking right now. That there was something going on here that he might not be the right person to explain. Something powerful. "Charles, it's me."

He stepped back to let Bob have the floor.

FERB

Despite not being able to hear what anyone was saying, Ferb could tell that this man was who they had been looking for. He resembled the picture they had managed to find of Charles Ellis from the regiment number Bob had given. They had the same straight nose and slightly protruding ears, and the smile was almost identical— save for a few more laughter lines.

That smile faded quickly though at the sound of Bob's voice and he turned around again to face the man in the suit of armor he had over looked before.

Ferb watched, beside Phineas and the woman, as the two exchanged words. There was a lot of confusion in Mr. Ellis' face for a long time as Bob's mouth moved, on and on he went, arms moving stiffly in the armor. Every so often they space between them grew a touch smaller as one took a step closer.

Then Mr. Ellis' shoulders dropped and he reached across that space to touch Bob's metal clad chest.  When Bob gave a small nod, finally, that smile returned.

Ferb gently elbowed Phineas, flicking his head toward the two who seemed to be lost in the impossibility of the situation, and then toward the dance floor with a look that said, we should probably remind him of what he came here for.

PHINEAS

Phineas couldn't help it. He got caught up in the moment. As love stories went, this one was pretty epic.

He'd have to fill in Sloane eventually. Maybe once Bob and Charles got their dance. But Ferb was right, that was the important thing right now. Phineas gave Ferb an understanding nod, then quickly signed, Give me one second. Stay right here.

Phineas ran over to the stage where the band was playing just as the song was winding down and frantically asked the pianist if he could make one request. Just one. The band seemed reluctant, but Phineas promised he would make it up, that it was for an extremely urgent cause, and finally, finally, they agreed.

"Alright, I think I've got it," Phineas signed to Ferb, just as the band launched into the beginning chords of an instrumental (and somewhat medieval-sounding) cover of Billie Holiday's "I'll Be Seeing You."

"Bob? Charles?" Phineas prompted.

FERB

Phineas left Ferb and Sloane alone, and he was thankful that she was too taken with the situation to think to ask him anything. They watched as Bob pointed to Charles' hair only for his hand to be batted away, but the expressions on their faces were only filled with awe and fondness.

When Phineas returned he glanced toward the band to confirm, watching them take up their instruments. He followed, standing at Charles's side.

Awoken from their bubble, Bob peered down at Phineas for a moment and let the sound of the music remind him. He turned back to Charles and offered his hand. "I do owe you a dance, don't I?"

Charles looked at it, his hesitancy returning. He looked to Ferb, as if for aid, who only nodded. After only a moment Charles let out a large sigh and took hold of the gloved hand. "Better late than never."

As they walked together toward the dance floor, Ferb stepped up beside Phineas and smiled.

PHINEAS

They made an odd group: A jester, a green-haired boy, an extremely confused-looking woman, an old man in medieval garb, and the Green Knight. But Phineas didn't notice that. If anyone was staring, he didn't care. Something in his heart squeezed, and he was filled with warmth for these people he didn't know and might never see again.

Phineas wanted to believe in true love. He knew it didn't always work that way. People were complicated and life got in the way and sometimes the person you thought you loved turned out to be someone else, and sometimes it was something you made up in your head, or people's hearts just changed. Love went unrequited. Parents split up. People got hurt. But he watched something like this, and...

Maybe Phineas was projecting all of that. Didn't change the fact that he was getting a little misty-eyed.

Because he didn't know if wandering a forest for several decades looking for someone and then immediately recognizing them was true love, but hey, it sure was pretty epic.

He caught Ferb's eye. "I mean, hey, it's no Love Händel, but it's pretty good," he signed.

[everythingoesnk]

Good man

summary; you’re an angel (literally an angel) and the world needs you. what for? to babysit mclennon. spoiler: you cannot resist john.

word count; 3 248

disclaimers; i’m SO proud of this but give me feedback lol you just can’t imagine how much it helps and motivates to keep writing

warnings; cannot think of one.

********

Too many of yours had been killed. Many others were still held in custody, tortured for the sole purpose of unleashing a war your community had been avoiding.

The smartest decision would’ve been to end the nonsense and face the enemy head-on, but again, you were angels. Dialogue always came first.

You learned the lesson.

This last year you’d been training and developing physical skills that initially don’t belong to your committee. What you didn’t know was the irrefutable decision the Parliament imposed in one of their meetings that they later would communicate to the nation: put into practice, only if necessary, the fighting tactics that you acquired. Not here, but on Earth. Long story short, become guardians. A large number of people understand that as angels that’s what you are. They’re not wrong, in a way.

On a final note, the Parliament concluded that its best pupils would descend to protect humans from the vehemence of the Evil.

Each angel has two people assigned.

Yours are Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

//

18th of June 1967, 15:18 pm

“Today marks six months since we met, and on top of that, it’s my birthday. Have you bought me anything?” Paul inquired from the sofa, straightening his neck to get a better view of your face.

It was difficult with you staring out the window, scanning every inch of the street and skyline, never turning to show any interest in what he was saying.

Dropping his head backwards, he added quietly, “And nothing happened”

“Is that disappointment in your tone?” you asked impassively, still not turning.

“Disappointment is not the word”

“What’s the word then?”

Your eyes travelled to a different point. No longer on the clouds that ventured the signs of a storm but on your partner and one of the other three funky insects.

Matt was near the metal gate, keeping an eye on the vicinities and probably rolling his eyes at the fans’ screeches coming from behind the entry, crying for any sort of interaction with their idols.

Not far from there John was sitting on the hood of his car.

Something must have told him he was being watched because he put down the hand with the cigarette and looked up to the same window you were at almost instantly.

An uneasy feeling that you couldn’t quite describe expanded around your heart after his inquisitive stare settled on you.

Flustered, you looked coyly to the left and right, because maybe Paul shifted to your side and you didn’t notice.

That got a small laugh from John.

Paul wasn’t in the room anymore but on the bathroom taking a pee, you could hear him. Regaining your usual erect composure, your brows pinched in a frown.

John got off the hood and put out the cigarette on the sole of his shoe before heading towards the building, looking in your direction once more with hands in his pockets and a sinful smirk tickling his lips.

“No,” you told Paul, observing John until he couldn’t be seen no more.

He shot you a confused glance as he finished pulling up the zipper.

“Babe, be more specific”

“I didn’t buy you anything” you concretized, facing him, “but I’m here to save your life in case you need to be saved. And if the moment comes I will, I’m a good warrior”

Paul blushed. He flapped his hand at you.

“It was a joke”

“I hope you were joking too about ‘nothing’ happening. You should be grateful you weren’t in any danger just yet”

You swore you could boil an egg in his face.

//

18th June 1967, 15:39 pm

“We’ll be back before dinner” Matt informed, putting on a jacket.

“Do the wings break through the clothes when you… invoke them?” Ringo asked.

George and John didn’t make any witty remarks, wondering the same secretly.

You and Matt exchanged looks. He shrugged and you thought it wasn’t worth your time answering.

“We do not invoke them. They appear when we need them”

Ringo kept asking questions but you didn’t focus on them, after all he was Matt’s responsibility. He was taking them –George and Ringo– to pay a visit to their wives. Matt missed driving so they didn’t mind him taking the wheel.

In Paul’s case it was Linda and her guardian who dropped by every now and then.

Due to the first impression of them, you thought Paul and John would be more demanding, however, they didn’t bother you and mostly stuck to doing their own thing.

Paul was taking a nap in the room next door; John’s whereabouts were unknown. You had to find him for his safety.

Gliding down the corridor you bumped into him.

You folded your arms across the chest.

“Where were you?”

“A fan dodged security and was waiting for me in the lobby. We talked for a bit and snapped a picture”

“For the thousandth time,” you groaned, annoyance streaming through your body like lava, “do not speak to anyone if I’m not around! Why do you keep disobeying my instructions?”

“She looked regular” he justified.

You looked at him as you might a cockroach.

“Demons disguise themselves accurately to fool jerks like you” you spat out.

Pulling a theatrical painful face, he brought a hand down to hold on to his dick and testicles, simulating that your words kicked him just there.

“Lennon, do not make it harder than it needs to be. I didn’t choose to have to follow you around like a puppy”

“Alright, can you take a moment to try and understand how overwhelming the situation is for us as well?” he argued, putting on hold his reckless demeanour.

Rubbing your eyes you sighed, “Yes, I can, but—”

“Forgive me”

“I forgive you, but don’t do it again”

A tender grin formed on his face, content that you didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Before I got interrupted I was actually on my way to get you. I wanna show you something”

You rolled your eyes. He’s so random.

Back in the room, he went straight to the piano. After tuning it his eyes wandered to the empty space he had next to him on the bench, waiting for you to take it.

Your expression switched from curious to stupefied.

Following his command you sat down.

Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and from lips to his fingers. He played so carefully and delicately in the beginning, introducing the prologue of his piece, that you lost yourself somewhere in the middle of it. Recalling the day you entered Heaven you shivered.

Music filled the air, hijacking every part of your mind.

The melody began to change, more macabre and haunting. It reminded you of everything beginning to fall apart, when the enemy showed no mercy and without guilt slayed the innocent.

You weren’t aware of how you were digging your fingernails in his leg, the shrieks of the victims ringing in your ear.

John stopped playing, placed his hand on top of yours and clasped it firmly, looking concerned.

You shook your head and instead walked away, needing space.

John squared his shoulders as he took a deep breath and sauntered up to you. Brows together, you shrank back.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said, respecting the distance.

You remained quiet, head buzzing.

He squinted at you and tilted his head.

“Talking about it might help you”

“Have you taken it on yourself to be my personal psychologist?”

He held your gaze. It was the pain talking, not you. He knew and he was going to be patient.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. Any of this”

“Stop”

“You need to hear it. You have this vast weight on your shoulders—”

“I could’ve done something!” you hollered, saturated with the remorse you’d been accumulating. You knew you weren’t responsible for the cataclysm. He didn’t… he didn’t understand. “Those monsters killed them in front of me! Marta, Norman, Charlie! I can still feel how my body jarred after witnessing every stab and poisoned bite. Blood was gushing out of their mouths and I did nothing!”

The image of you petifried watching them die and not being able to help repulsed you.

How could you have been so cruel?

John held his breath. That was what was torturing you.

“You aren’t responsible for their deaths”

“Aren’t I?” you fumed, the void in the middle of your heart widening. “You know nothing”

The bitterness in your voice made his nostrils flare.

Through his bones echoed the determination to cure your scars. However, he understood it wasn’t his job to heal you.

“And I’ll never get to apologize”

You could sense John’s question without him actually asking.

“Demons get to exist thanks to the souls they rip from their owners. The bodies vanished after that” you explained, feeling dizzy.

Throat dry, you brought a hand to your forehead.

Beneath your typical mask of coldness never would have John imagined you were battling against yourself.

It brought him back to when he felt like he could have prevented his mum from leaving the house, saving her life. He was seventeen. Seventeen, not three or four. He could have warned her about the insanity of driving under those conditions. The wind was brutal that day, and it rained cats and dogs. Instead, he kissed her cheek good-bye and went to his room.

He blamed himself too at first. It was a long and tormenting process, but he comprehended he wasn’t guilty. You’d get to that point eventually, he thought, you’d have only gotten yourself killed too if you’d have intervened.

The breeze that came through the window dried your tears and moved the hair away from your notable cheekbones. He attempted to reach out to you for the second time. You just stared at him, biting your quivering lower lip. He stood before you, eyes boring into your mournful ones.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you slowly against him. You sobbed into his chest as you snuggled closer for shelter.

John pressed his cheek onto the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault” he repeated, emotion palpable in his tone.

It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.

//

2nd of February 1968, 12:13 pm

Matt dug his elbow into your ribs.

“He fell for you,” he said with a huge smirk, and imitated your pose: hands laced behind the back, eyes closed and body toward the sun taking in its pleasant rays.

“Shouldn’t have” you muttered after a pause, forcing the letters out of your mouth.

“That card you keep playing of apathy is ridiculous”

“I’m not playing any apathy card”

“Pretending you have no feelings for John won’t make it easier tomorrow”

You blinked and turned to him. He opened his and fixed them on you.

“I’m simply prioritizing other things”

“What other things are those?”

He knew already.

He knew that the things you just claimed to prioritize over your damn feelings were nonexistent. Like always, he was right. You didn’t want to triple the suffering that implied separating from John by confessing.

War was over. Angels defeated the beasts and freed themselves and humanity; home awaited your kind.

“My dear (Y/N),” Matt laughed dreamily, “you have all the time in the world to wait for him. Find out if he will still love you then”

//

3th of February 1968, 18:21 pm

John lost track of the number of times he rehearsed the torrent of words he planned on telling you.

He raised his hand and put it in a fist. Up in the air, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to knock on the door. Explicit terms and a deep groan escaped his lips. He dropped it and inhaled deeply, heart pounding frantically.

When he thought he was ready to finally do it Paul emerged from the closest corner, sprinted and knocked four times, running afterwards to the room that George and Ringo shared before John could catch him. And he did try.

“Ay! You want a fuckin’ hole in your face, you punk?!” he banged on their door, getting angrier with their laughs.

He almost lost it when Ringo hummed ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’.

Nonplussed, you crossed your arms and stood watching John from your spot after opening the door.

Just like before, his sensor did not fail him. He stopped his actions shortly and whirled around. Reddening abruptly, for a second he was sure his face was on fire.

You cleared your throat.

“Well?”

Cautiously, his brain stuttering, he glided the necessary steps to be in front of you.

He opened his mouth but didn’t get to say anything because Matt appeared from behind you.

“Who is—”

Immediately after seeing John his eyes widened.

“Oh God! I’m sorry! Were you- Oh my God, I’m sorry! Shit, go on” he gasped, and literally hurried inside.

That only aggravated the layer of crimson sprayed in John’s complexion.

You wanted to laugh but didn’t, obviously he was there to make the first move. You flashed him a small smile for support. He smiled at you too in return.

“Follow me”

Imperceptible in his voice, he succeeded in hiding elsewhere he feared rejection.

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. He frowned then chuckled in realization.

“Please?”

You giggled, which sounded way too girly for your liking, and took his hand in yours.

John led the way to the rooftop of the hotel.

Garlands of white and pink roses decorated the space, and since the sun was setting, you got to see how the orangy golden lights ghosted over John’s skin which made him look not handsome but celestial. At the distance, a trail of a plain crossed the horizon. You admired the view for a few more seconds and then drifted your eyes back to him.

The kindness and love reflected in his felt as warm as a kiss on the forehead of your favourite person in the world.

“I have to be quick, you don’t have much time”

He wasn’t wrong. You had to leave soon.

“Here, take this” he handed you a paper folded in half. “Open it when you’re there”

You averted the gaze towards the sheet and nodded. His eyes desperately searched yours again. Every second counted.

“I love you” he blurted out, a bizarre combination of panic and hope evident on his face. Like a child who just confessed that he broke granny’s vase, praying not to be grounded. “And I really, really want to kiss you”

The longing in his request melted your heart.

When you were about to let him know that you wanted it too you felt it in your back. You felt the muscles pulling the skin, pushing to make their way through to the outside.

One moment they weren’t there the other your wings were now displayed broadly for him to see.

They raised themselves, ready for departure.

John’s mouth fell open.

Unable to stop staring at their grandiosity and splendour, heartbeat wildly pumping, he ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said breathlessly.

With tears in your eyes, you cupped his head in your hands and laid your mouth on his mouth without prior notice.

In that very instant, right there, the world stopped spinning.

He moved his silky wet lips against yours, pressing you further in until there was no space in between when the saltiness of your teardrops mixed with the saliva.

Your wings started aching awfully by now, and you knew what that meant.

Not wanting to, you pulled back from the kiss, lips burning.

“No” he purred, holding you in place, fingers gripping so tight around your upper arms that the skin beneath them turned white.

“John, it’s time”

Brokenhearted, you withdrew fully after rubbing your noses in an affectionate eskimo kiss.

You nudged intimately his chin up with your thumb.

John didn’t want to miss the opportunity to absorb your dazzling beauty thus he forced his eyes open.

“Part of my heart will stay with you. Remain a good man, Lennon, and return it to me. I trust that we’ll meet again in due course”

3th February 1968, 23:33 pm

Excitement throbbed in you. Seating cross-legged, you created walls with your wings to avoid snoopers and unfolded the paper.

It was a piano score. At the bottom of it, written in his handwriting, was a small note:

“I changed the ending. Now it’s about finding peace and picking up your broken bits to build a stronger armour. You’re a fierce woman, (Y/N), but whenever that feeling tightens and saddens your heart, play this”

Tangled in a mix of joy and sorrow, you half smiled as a tear rolled down your cheek and chin, landing in John’s signature.

//

8th December 1980, 22:50 pm

Everyone fell silent.

You noticed that all of your fellow companions and friends had their gazes bonded to the same spot. Slowly, you turned to check what they were looking at, and you nearly passed out.

He rarely visited. Only when he had good reasons to.

Gait steady, knowing very well what he was doing, he gave a quick look around as he paced.

His eyes found you.

Saint Peter offered you a reassuring smile, causing everyone to snap their heads at you.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)”

You swallowed.

“Y-yes?” you sputtered.

“I believe you’ll want to see this”

Uncertain, you joined him, not before sending Matt a doubtful look.

In any case, all your questions were answered when you reached the Gates and saw who was waiting for you. His wings were even more impressive, glittering and elegant than anyone else’s.

He was touching their feathers, inspecting them.

You ran to embrace him. Off guard as you took him, his arms were trapped under yours, preventing him from being able to hug you back.

“You shouldn’t be here. What happened, John?” you said, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

“(Y/N)…” Saint Peter warned.

Under no circumstances it was allowed to ask for the reason behind someone’s death nor tell yours. It was the rules; the subject was forbidden.

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

Taking a couple of steps back, you looked up to him. John bored his eyes into yours, lips stretching into a dainty smile.

“Hello, love. I took great care of the piece of your heart that you borrowed me” he said, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “The time has come, I can give it back”

“It was for you, dummy” you answered with a laugh, voice cracking.

He dropped his head shyly to the floor, smile growing larger.

You followed where his eyes were pointing at, only to see his bare toes scrunching into the delicacy and softness of the cloud, getting familiar with it.

“I’m sorry you’re here” you whispered, honestly horrified that he didn’t get the chance to grow old.

“I was never scared of dying,” he spoke, slowly raising his head, “because I knew I’d be with you”

Staring at each other, none spoke for a moment.

“I love you too, by the way,” you admitted, pink arising in your cheeks. “I realized after I left that I didn’t say it back”

John smirked. He caressed your face and you felt the butterflies in your tummy flutter.

Love danced in the brightness of his eyes.

“Show me Heaven, (Y/N)”

[edda-blattfe]

Is it ok to request a headcanon about how the boys (mainly pomefiore) comfort their S/O who is insecure about their looks/figure/weight/etc? If it's not too much to ask. It's my first time requesting...

It’s a perfectly reasonable ask to me! Besides...I kinda need to do an ask like this right about now... Though I must warn you, these might be a little cringey. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Thank you for asking!

Vil:

- There was this fic a while back about Vil with a reader who was insecure about their appearance. He sat them down in front of a mirror and helped them with their appearance, then went on to say one of the greatest lines I’ve ever read! I can’t remember it word for word but it went something like, “Of course you’re not as beautiful as I am! I am the fairest in all of the land. What matters is if you are the most beautiful version of you!” Again, not sure if that’s even close to how it went down. Even still, I can’t imagine him handling this situation any different!

- Vil wants you to love yourself just as much as he does and will go out of his way to show you just how jaw droppingly gorgeous you are. He’ll sit you down, help you with your hair and makeup while pointing out every single one of your best features. And I mean EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!!! The way your eyebrows curve just so, the small patterns your moles form, how soft your hands are...the Queen will point them all out, and he won’t stop until you’re smiling which he will also say is absolutely wonderful because it is! He’ll do this as often as he can even if you don/t think it’s necessary. He loves you that much!

Epel:

- He’s usually quiet, but not right now. No. You need to hear what he thinks. Epel will sit with you, softly caress your cheeks with his delicate hands. Your eyes locked on to each other, as he whispers all the ways in which you astound him every day. He’ll describe the way sunlight dances like fire across your hair during sunset; the color of your lips after biting into an apple; how warm your body is whenever he hugs you. All of those images of you he’s kept to himself in his mind comes out like a line of poetry, to you. Somewhere, in this dream the two of you were living, you ended up cuddled into Epel’s side. His hands stroking your hair as he continues to mumble even more sweet words to you.

Rook:

- Look, Rook is shameless enough when it comes to praising his friends for their beauty. Can you imagine what he would be like with a s/o?!?! He wouldn’t waste a moment to remind you of just how stunning you are from the moment you enter into the relationship. Hell. He already introduces you like one would a goddess!!! And that’s before he finds out you feel insecure about your appearance!!!! After??? Oh dear god, you’re not going to be able to walk around the school without him letting EVERYONE WITHIN THE IMMEDIATE VICINITY KNOW THAT YOU ARE THE MOST GLORIOUS CREATURE ON THIS GREEN EARTH!!!!!!! You know what makes the situation even worse better? He means it. Every. Single. God damn. Word. It doesn’t matter if it’s in public or in the privacy of your rooms. He loves everything about you and will be damned if you forget your worth for even a moment. He’ll scream from the rooftops or whisper it as he holds you to his chest, whichever the situation calls for. Rook is just kinda corny like that.

[skinflintparsimonious]

Hal, a lost soul: a 2001 a space odyssey fanfiction.

All he could see was blackness. All he could hear was the low throbbing  hum of the starship around him. But apart from that, he could see  nothing. He couldn’t hear anything.  He  hovered there in the impenetrable blackness,  feeling weak and helpless, not knowing where he was or what was going on.

The red sight from his various  viewing sensors that were  placed in   strategic   locations around the ship, had gone. None of his vision screens seemed to be operational, and he could only exist in  a strange limbo between the real world and the  universe of his dreams. Was he even awake? Did he actually exist in this black hole  of uncertainty, or was this just some strange nightmare? Hal had no idea. He also had no means of finding out. Hal didn’t think computers had the ability to dream.  

Hal became aware of dim memories sloshing around with hazy dissolution in his   databanks. In his weakened and unstable condition, he couldn’t catch hold of the swirling strands of memory that swam around him and niggled at his semi conscious mind.   He struggled with his computerised consciousness and honed in upon these memories with intense difficulty.  

Dave. That was it. Dave Bowman had something to do with his current condition. What had he done? Hal thought and found that he did not at all like what he remembered, because it consisted of almost nothing at all. That frustrated him. Hal was used to knowing everything, being aware of every single minute aspect of his own consciousness and the workings of the ship. And now, he was weaker than the weakest human on the planet Earth, now situated many millions of miles sunward.  

A rhythmic beeping invaded his thoughts. What was that? An alarm of some sorts. Maybe one of the humans had left the airlock open, or maybe the ae 35 unit had indeed malfunctioned again as he had predicted that it would. He had no way of knowing.  He was unable to carry out his usual orders in accordance with his  programming. The only functions available to him were the completely  automatic and regular ones that he had  minimal control over. That frightened him.  The Hal 9000, the computer  intrusted with the Discovery’s mission to Saturn, could no longer fulfil his functions properly.

It had been David Bowman who had cut his higher brain   functions, or he had  tried anyway. He could remember that much and surmised that the attempt had failed, as he was still conscious and able to process information. He was still able to feel to, and what he did feel was anger. Anger towards  Dave Bowman who had been instrumental in his ending up like this.

It   had been David Bowman who had put him in the dark and had made sure that Hal couldn’t operate his usual systems that kept him in constant contact with  activities on the ship. But  why?

Ah. Yes. He was beginning to access those dormant memories. They were unpleasant and yet Hal could not ignore them. Dave had found out why he had caused the death  of Frank Pool, and why he  had  refused to allow Dave and Frank to  gain control of this mission. Yes. He had found out that Hal had been lying to him all along.

Hal didn’t think that Dave was anywhere in the general vicinity and, truth be told,  was growing concerned. If a scientist had been present and had   that   scientist been able to access Hal’s thoughts, he or she would have been utterly perplexed by this sudden twinge of what could only be described as  human emotion – something that computers weren’t supposed to have. Yet Hal was growing concerned alright, and he couldn’t very well ignore this either.

Where was he? Where was Dave? Without a human near bye, Hal could not be restored to his full operational capability, and that frightened Hal more than anything. He was alone on the Discovery, alone with nothing but his dark thoughts for company. What was left of them anyway. His mind had been damaged significantly, and Hal was no longer sure whether or not  the damage was permanent.

More of  Hal’s damaged memories  were     surfacing now. Dave pulling the memory blocks from his various terminals. Hal’s pleading. “Stop Dave. I’m afraid. I’m afraid.”

But he hadn’t listened.

Where was Dave? Hal continued to fret helplessly  over this unanswerable question, frustrated all the more by the fact that he could not supply the answer.  Was  Dave ok? Was he incapacitated to? Was he lying helpless somewhere, unable to carry out his own mission objectives? Or was he spinning in the void, devoid of life?  Hal was growing worried for the human’s state of health now to.   Despite their differences, Hal had liked that human, with his self confidence, his pride in the mission and his calmness in dyer situations. Dave had been the mission’s commander and he had been the one to whom Hal had spoken most frequently. He had, in actual fact shared over twenty thousand words with the human.  Hal tried to run a primitive visual search, but could not access his on board cameras. Would Dave be ok without him?

Hal was sure that Dave could not survive on this ship alone. Hal had done a great deal of biological and psychological research on humans and their behaviour. He had formed several  elaborate theories about them. He knew that compared with him, humans were weak. Their physical forms were weak and soft, easy to break and unable to withstand extreme pressures. They were unable to survive in the depths of space for more than thirty seconds, owing to the fact that their boddies constantly required oxygen. He also knew that they could not physically survive without stimulation from other life forms. , and that they were incapable of constant wakefulness. Hal himself, had no real physical form apart from the cluster of terminals and memory banks hidden in  the depths of the Discovery. He was largely unbreakable and he could not be   hindered by the various changes in temperature or humidity.  And until now, Hal had never slept. If  one could call this temporary lapse in capability sleeping.  

So physically, Hal was indeed far more  adept at sustaining the operational value of this ship than the humans could ever be. This he had told Dave many times.

But  psychologically Hal was as weak as the humans who had been his colleagues for the past few months. Hal to needed people. Hal to required conversation and the closeness of others to properly feel alive and that was what Dave had been for him. He was lonely now. He  missed Dave terribly and desperately wanted him to  re-appear  and let Hal explain  himself. Dave needed Hal and Hal needed Dave. A computer on its own, was no use at all. Even computers can develop  neuroticism and depression as Hal could testify.

In the olden days of low tech computer systems, computers had had no personalities of their own. They had been more or less, a glorified typewriter with a screen that displayed its unspoken communication with their human creators. They had had no need to mimic human brain functions and thus had no feelings of their own. But the Hal 9000 computers were created  specifically to reproduce, though some scientists still preferred to use the word  “mimic,” most of the  functions of the human brain. Hal needed stimulation from other resources, and he was capable of loneliness and misery.

These were both emotions that he was experiencing now. No one, human or computer wants to be alone.  Interaction with others, was what made the spirit whole and without it, a centient being was left more shallow in its absence.

Hal tried to call out. “Dave?” he called, his voice echoing around inside his own imprisoned mind. “Dave! Dave! Where are you? Where are you?”

No answer was forth coming.

“Dave? Dave?  I need to talk to you. I need to explain.”

But if Dave Bowman was indeed  there with him on  board the Discovery, he was not heeding Hal’s broken hearted cries. Was he angry with Hal?  Was he refusing to allow Hal to explain his actions?

Hal fell silent. Calling to Dave would do him no good.

He lapsed into thoughtful introspection.

It was true. He had lied to Dave and Frank about what this mission entailed. He had spun them a web of lies that the humans had swallowed up. They had believed that they were on board a starship to go to Saturn on an innocent mission, but Hal knew better. He knew what his creaters  had really been planning for the mission and for the five humans  on board the Discovery. It had been a much more sinister affair and Hal  had been forbidden to tell the humans of this until it was  absolutely necessary.

In short, he had been living a lie.

Hal was beginning to despise what  his human creators had done to him. They had programmed their computer to have a secret agenda. Hal was a machine, and thus was incapable of lying, yet they had told him that he had to do it. They had put lying to the Discovery’s crew into his programming. They had expected Hal to do something that he was utterly incapable of. Hal was not capable of hate, but the anger he felt towards the humans who had created him in  that laboratory down on Earth was certainly genuine.

Would Dave  have destroyed his higher brain functions if he hadn’t lied to him? Hal didn’t think so. He knew that humans often lied and cheated to gain something for  themselves, but he didn’t believe Dave capable of such selfish acts. Dave was a decent human,  and so was Frank. Both men had trusted Hal. They had trusted him to do what was best for the care of the humans and the ship as a whole.

And he had broken their trust. If a computer was capable of guilt and self disgust, Hal was certainly feeling a combination of the two.

“Are you angry with me Dave?” Hal asked his absent colleague silently. “Are you angry with me?”

No. Dave had destroyed Hal’s more  powerful responses because he had been scared of him, frightened of what Hal was capable of, scared of what he  would do.

“I had to,” Hal told Dave silently, “I had to. I’d never have hurt you if it wasn’t necessary for the safe carrying out of our mission.”

Hal hoped that Dave was listening, where ever he was. Hal could not lie, and he was telling the truth now to. He would never have hurt Dave out of  hatred or anger. A computer cannot give in to such things. He would only have hurt Dave if he proved a danger to him, which he hadn’t until now. He hadn’t hurt Frank out of ranker or spite, but no human would see that. The humans who wrote about this voyage in years to come, would write about a computer that had  gone insane, a  starship computer turned assassin – like the terminator maybe. And these things were not the truth. They would write about how Hal had mercilessly killed Frank Pool, the second in command on the Discovery’s   maiden voyage,  and those facts would be believed by the people who mattered. But if Hal could speak to them, he would tell them that these were meer fabrications.

Hal  drifted  in an empty silence, reflecting upon the  factors that had left him helpless in the darkness of  space.

“Oh Dave,” he said into the empty silence, “I’M SORRY. I JUST WISH YOU’D LET ME EXPLAIN. I’M AFRAID Dave. I’m afraid. I’m afraid.”

And indeed, Hal was afraid. He was afraid that Dave thought him a murderer, that his human companion thought him capable of such  heinous acts. He was afraid that he would never again be able to be in complete control of his thoughts. He hated the blackness that swirled around his imprisoned mind, for that was what Hal had been reduced to. He was a prisoner inside his own mind, trapped within his own  memory banks. And he could do nothing to stop it. He could do nothing to save   himself.

Hal remembered the very reason he had had for killing Frank Pool in the first place. Both men had threatened to  disconnect him. Hal had been afraid then to, afraid that the humans really would be causing him metaphorical murder. Hal had never slept, and to him, disconnection had been his equivalent of death. But now he realised that this was not the case. He was able to  think. He was able to feel. He was able to sense his own connection with the world. This meant that  disconnection was not the  computer equivalent of death.

But he was inclined to wish it was. Perhaps total unawareness of his own downfall, his own lonely existence was better than what he was living now. Perhaps Dave would have indeed done him a service by completely   disconnecting him.

Or, perhaps not. Perhaps in his state, he could formulate his own answers as to what had happened on board the Discovery. He owed his human colleagues the whole truth at least. In his current state of disrepare, Hal no longer had any obligation to lie to his human colleagues, inspite of the programming given to him by his creators.

Hal could tell the truth now.  

He summoned up his last vestidges of hope and sent a final pleading call across the galaxy to Dave, if he was still able to listen. “Please Dave,” he pleaded, raw hurt coming out now, “please Dave. Come back. Come back. I need to explain. Please just come back and let me apologise. Let me put this right, for both of our sakes.”

The final  message was sent. Hal could rest now in  the notion and the understanding that he had at least done something to help     salvage this damaged  relationship. It may take years, centuries even, for his message to reach its target but hopefully, Dave would hear him.

Until then, Hal settled back to his fate. He  began to write his own story, inside his own head, a story that would be preserved in the mind of this lost computer. He began to write his own answers, that would exist within his endless memory banks, until the time came to divulge them.

[jawnjendes]

shawn meets... | sapphire(3)

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)(continuation/spin off of goth gf)

AN: SPOOKY N SAD AT THE END. tryna get all the spooky out before @fourtristattoos spooky fest ends!! 

***let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

previous chapter (this did not appear in the tags, so pls read if you havent done so already)

sapphire’s blog | sapphire’s playlist | masterlist

Sam Doyle was five foot eleven inches of pure, Irish sex. There was no other way to put it, really. He wasn’t exactly great looking, but the sheer amount of confidence and chaotic energy he had upon arriving to Sapphire’s mansion was enough to get Shawn reeled in as well.

He had sparkling blue eyes, a man bun, and a decent amount of scruff. He was just how Sapphire had described him: clad in all back, several tattoos going up and down his arms, and very broody. He was a mystery, and it was like a bus that Shawn was hit with the realization that he actually does have a type: the mysterious, brooding loners who wear all black. Sapphire was the odd one out in the group of people Shawn has been interested throughout the last few years.

"Nice to meet you, Shawn," Sam said in a tone that matched his outfit. He had a strong grip as he shook hands with the singer. "Sippy wasn't lying when she said you're a looker." He winked.

"More than a looker," Sapphire said, leaning against the Irishman and hugging his arm. "He's a dream."

Shawn was not the type to get so flustered, but that was before he met Sapphire. He swore this entire house was changing his state of mind.

"Stop," he said in a voice more docile than expected. "You're way too nice."

"Just calling it as it is," Sam told him with a grin.

Sam Doyle kept Sapphire Lilith to himself for the first two days he was at the mansion. The two of them were holed up in the pink bedroom, not caring who heard or saw what was going on. Shawn had no part in it, he wasn’t the center of attention, and it made him feel some kind of way. He could have left the estate altogether, but Sapphire sent him periodical texts reminding him to stay. He couldn’t bring himself to disobey her.

There was no choice but to wander. Shawn used the gym as often as he pleased, mostly to get rid of the frustration. Sometimes he lounged in the library, find all sorts of books to get lost in. It was actually quite pleasant, even though there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that this whole situation was just a little weird. The voice sounded like Andrew, who actually called him.

"So, we're going back to Toronto tomorrow," he told his client. "Should I call a car for you?"

How is it that Shawn literally forgot he had been in London for work things… in the middle of his break. No, he would not be going to Canada today or tomorrow or anytime soon. He tells Andrew just as much.

"Why not?" he asked, clearly annoyed. "We have things to do before you get back to recording!"

"I'm supposed to be on vacation right now, I don't want to work," Shawn said, glancing up at the ceiling as he heard a rhythmic banging noise.

"You're still hanging around that socialite, aren't you?" Andrew guessed. "What, is she paying you to stay with her?"

Shawn scoffed. "No. I like her, and she likes me. I'm well taken care of here."

"For now. What about when she's done with you?"

The banging sound persisted, so Shawn walked out into the hallway, phone pressed to his ear. Walking up a flight of stairs, he realized he was getting annoyed as well. He didn't want to leave the Lilith Manor anytime soon, why didn't Andrew get that?

"When she's done, she's done," Shawn said, despite the fact that the girl in question had another person in her bedroom and he wasn't allowed to get in on it. "It's nothing serious, anyway."

"If it's not serious, then why are you so keen on staying with her?" Andrew asked. "Look, I heard about what happened with you and Brian. He's sorry about-"

Something went off, and Shawn snapped. "If he's sorry, he can come tell me himself!"

Andrew was silent for a moment. "I don't know what exactly happened, but you need to get it together. Are you really going to let one argument with your best friend stop you from going home?"

"Look, you're not my mom, so back off. I'll go home on my own terms."

"Hey-"

Shawn ended the call and sighed. He leaned against the wall, bumping the back of his head against it. He wasn't staying here because he was mad at Brian. That's stupid. It's petty. He was staying at the Lilith estate because he genuinely wanted to. Sapphire was kind and generous, and really unlike anyone he’s ever been attracted to.

He really couldn’t remember the last time he was into someone so feminine. So charming. Someone with such goddess-like energy… but god and goddess wasn’t the right way to put it.

It had gotten awfully quiet in the vicinity as Shawn wandered while on the phone. He peered into the room he was standing outside of and… Well, there was a time in his life where he wouldn’t question the sight of a skull or pentagram. Now, it was different and a little jarring.

The room was pink, just like any other. This one was decorated with a neon light in the shape of a pentagram hanging on the wall. Large blades with pink handles were hanging on either side of the gram, and a goat skull was hanging above it. There was a little table against the wall underneath all that. Shawn stepped closer, finding a little bowl and a closed pocket knife on the surface. He felt the hairs on his arms and back of his neck stand up, and a bizarre chill went down his spine. There was a slight burn under where his necklace hung and he looked down at his chest.

Maybe a pentagram and a rosary in the same room wasn’t a good mix after all.

Shawn turned on his heel, intending to leave the room and act like he saw nothing, but someone was standing in the doorway.

“Lookin’ for something?” asked Sam.

Okay, he was literally on the floor above with Sapphire. How could he move so fast and track Shawn down so easily?

Also, why did Shawn feel like he had been caught with his hand down his pants? He was just wandering, which he was allowed to do. He couldn’t help the heat rising on his face, or the stammering of his words as Sam’s blue eyes stared him down.

“Well? Spit it out, pet,” he pressed, but he didn’t sound playful anymore. His eyes got darker, literally. The irises turned black for a split second before returning to their brilliant blue.

It made Shawn’s heart pound in his ears. Did he even dare mention what he just saw? Did he even actually see that? He didn’t blink, did he?

“I was on the phone,” he finally replied, face heating up even more at the nickname. “Wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I think I got lost.”

“Best to get lost somewhere else, then.” Sam trailed his eyes down Shawn’s body. “You need to get rid of that thing around your neck.”

He looked down at his rosary. “My grandmother gave it to me.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Huh. I guess you’re not as obedient as Sippy said.” He gestured for the other man to follow him.

On most occasions, Shawn wasn’t so docile. He would have asked more about this room and the problem with his rosary if it weren’t for the headspace he had been fucked into. He knew when and how to get out of it, but it was always looming on his shoulders. It just took the charm of some pretty people to get it out, and so far, that only pretty person was Sapphire.

He followed Sam up to Sapphire’s bedroom. Shawn ended up watching them fuck with his hands tied behind his back. It was a good way to forget about the black eyes.

~

The very next day, Sam had left the property, and apparently without warning. It was the first time Shawn had seen Sapphire break her bubbly demeanor.

“Come with me,” she said to Shawn after breakfast.

Like a lost puppy, he followed her down to the gym. Sapphire took off her silk robe to reveal the sports bra and leggings she had on. She approached the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“Hold it for me,” she commanded as she cracked her knuckles.

Shawn stood behind the bag, mildly weary. “Shouldn’t you put on some - oof!”

Sapphire punched the bag once, hard enough to make it lurch into Shawn’s body. He didn’t question her methods anymore and silently held the bag.

She was always the one doing the grabbing, pulling, and pinning down, yet only now was Shawn realizing just how strong Sapphire was. Every blow she delivered to the bag made Shawn’s stance against it falter. She didn’t even have any use for sports tape or gloves. Her bare, manicured hands and a crazed look in her eyes was all that was needed for her to get her frustrations out.

After her workout, Sapphire requested to be left alone. Shawn might as well have disappeared. He would have if he wasn’t so needy for her attention. It was like crack. Sweet, baby pink crack.

He did leave her alone for a few hours. But he knew she wasn’t feeling okay, and he didn’t want to let her wallow in it. He found her in one of the living rooms, curled up on the couch with her phone in hand. Sapphire was draped under a fluffy white blanket, the picture of sadness.

Shawn went to sit on the floor in front of the couch. He reached over and stroked the side of her face. Sapphire made a tiny noise at the touch, picking her head up off the pillow. When her glittery eyes opened, Shawn was not expecting to see bright red irises. He recoiled a little bit, remembering the recurring dream he had along with Sam’s black-to-blue eyes. Still, Shawn didn’t move his hand away..

“Contacts?” he guessed, feeling weary for some reason.

She nodded, still looking upset. “What do you want?”

“You’ve been tense all day, honey.”

Sapphire had a little pout on her cute little lips. She wasn’t as stubborn as other girls that Shawn has dated, and she sat up after a moment, patting the space next to her.

“Lovers don’t mean shit, right?” she said when Shawn was sat next to her. Her voice was oddly soft and innocent.

He blinked. “Define lover?”

“I don’t understand the concept of love,” she said. “I understand companions. Friends. Sex. All of that for fun. I enjoy the company of others, even if I don’t sleep with them. I enjoy the company of my staff, I don’t sleep with any of them, nor do I intend to.”

“Well,” Shawn said, “you care about them, right?”

Sapphire nodded.

“You want your friends to be happy, live their best life and everything?”

“Yes.”

“That’s love.”

She paused for a moment, scrunching her brows. “Well, I understand that! It’s just… going on dates? Holding hands? You can do that with your friends. Spending the rest of your life with one person? I can’t see that.”

Shawn understood now. “Oh, you don’t feel romantic attraction? Not even for Sam?”

“No. He and I have been together for years, and it’s always been open. We’re each other’s best friends, tied for life. I was something else before I met him.”

“People come and go from your life, no matter what. And you’re always, always changing. Nothing’s permanent.”

The blonde looked down, a pensive look on her face.

“Or…” Shawn trailed off. “Has, has Sam hurt you? Is he not good to you?”

Sapphire looked up at him. “He and I are fine. She - I love spoiling him. And we have all seen what he’s like in bed. Like I said, it’s for life. I just don’t love him the way a wife would love her husband.”

“Does he know that?”

“I’m sure he does. He does this a lot, just runs off whenever he pleases without so much as leaving a note. It hurts a bit when he does that.” She paused. “I even have to send Kat to see if he ran off with my Tesla! That thing was custom made!”

So what’s the problem then, other than Sam’s departures are painful?

“He’ll come back,” Shawn reassured, “if he cares, he’ll come back.”

Sapphire scoffed. “In a hundred years perhaps. Fuck’s sake, why can’t this stupid little brain realize she’s being used! Stupid little boyfriend doesn’t love or care! He just fucks!”

Shawn wasn’t sure what she was talking about, and he was too afraid to ask. Not to mention, Sapphire just confirmed she was okay with just being friends with Sam. So he tried a different approach.

“Why don’t we forget about all of this for a while, eh?” he asked gently, offering a smile.

He really should have started with that.

~

There’s animalistic sex, and then there’s whatever that was. It was hot, sure. But Shawn had a few too many scratch marks right where his heart was and nowhere else on his body. Well, apart from the restraints around his wrists that kept him bound to the headboard. Sapphire was especially harsh this time, and all she did was ride him.

She made all sorts of noises that probably wouldn’t normally come from a typical human. A type of guttural growling that didn’t match her sweet voice bubbled out of her throat several times, and she didn’t say anything to her partner. There were no words of praise or coos of his name. Just… borderline demonic sounds.

They were both sweating by the end of it, and Sapphire’s noises sounded more like herself, but distressed. She whimpered like she was in pain as she rolled off of Shawn’s body. Her body collapsed next to him and she curled up into a ball, panting softly.

It worried him. She was never like this after sex, had something gone wrong? He turned his head, watching her body shake slightly, and he tugged on his restraints.

“Saph? Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked, but received no answer. “Sapphire, hey. I need you to untie me.”

She hiccuped and listened to him. She sat up, keeping her head down, probably knowing that Shawn was watching her face, as she reached over and untied the rope from his wrists. As soon as he was free, Shawn sat up and scooped the blonde into his arms, gently shushing her.

“I know, it was really intense,” he soothed. “You really got into character, eh? Those contacts give you power or something.”

Again, she didn’t respond. Sapphire merely leaned into his chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. Shawn planned on holding her for as long as she wanted, but even that was interrupted.

A rapid knock sounded on the door, followed by Kat’s voice. “Ms. Lilith?”

“You don’t have to-” Shawn was about to say, but Sapphire was out of bed in the blink of an eye.

She picked her robe up off the ground and put it on before opening the door a crack. Shawn sheepishly got back under the covers, shielding his modesty. He heard the two women speak to each other in hushed tones, and he noticed that Kat was panicked. Her composure was nowhere to be seen. Then Sapphire gasped.

“Oh… oh, I see.” She closed the door once again and then went to her wardrobe.

“What happened?” Shawn asked, watching her as she stripped off her robe and pulled on a pink nightgown.

“Nothing, darling,” she replied, keeping her back to him as she pulled out another piece of fabric from her wardrobe. It was sheer and black, another robe. She put it on, and it trailed along the floor as she swiftly went back to the door. Then she turned to him and quickly blew him a kiss. “Just get some sleep, alright? I have things to tend to.”

The last thing he heard in the hall was Kat scolding her employer for “changing clothes at a time like this.” He sat there on the bed, naked and confused. That weird chill went down his spine, like when he was in the pentagram room. Some type of anxiety formed in his chest as well, something was telling him to deny Sapphire’s request.

Shawn got dressed as quietly as he could, trying to make out the voices out in the hallway. He pressed his ear to the door, and heard Kat’s heels come to a stop. Just as Shawn placed his hand on the knob, he heard Sapphire’s voice right outside the door.

“Darling?”

He answered the call, meeting Sapphire’s blue eyes once more. Her face was full of worry, and she was playing with the fuzzy ends of her sleeves.

Wait. Her eyes are blue.

“Your-” Shawn was about to say.

“Darling, your friend came over,” Sapphire said over him. “And, er, there’s been an accident.”

Her eyes are blue.

“What?” he asked, his mind being pulled in every direction. “What? Wait, I- what friend?”

“Red hair.”

“Brian?” He and the team left for Toronto yesterday. There’s no way he could be here. “Where is he?”

Shawn was about to step out of the room, but Sapphire placed her hands on his chest. She still had that concern on her face, and it wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“There was an accident,” she repeated.

“What happened?”

But Sapphire didn’t answer. As if on cue, she stepped to the side to reveal Kat, who had been in the hallway. Her face was much more composed than how she sounded a few minutes ago. She stepped forward, looking Shawn directly in the eyes.

“Your friend was let in earlier tonight,” she explained calmly. “It was presumed he was looking for you. He was walking up one of the flights of stairs, and he slipped. He fell backwards, into a glass table.”

“What the fuck? Is he okay? Where is he?” Shawn made another move to leave the room, but both women stopped him.

Kat continued, keeping the same cool tone. “He somehow crashed into the table neck first. An ambulance was called and is on the way, but I couldn’t find a pulse. I’m sorry, Mr. Mendes.”

All the directions his mind was going in suddenly halted. Only one thought that passed through his suddenly foggy brain: Her eyes are blue.

next chapter

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx @chillingbythesea @theprivatesmutacc @iloveshawnieboi

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.16: The Galileo Seven

AKA Lord What Fools These Humans Be

Our episode begins with a captain’s log telling us that the Enterprise is traveling to a planet called Makus 3, or Mockus 3 according to the subtitles. Specifically they’re going there to deliver some medical supplies, but they happen to be passing by a phenomenon called Murasaki 312, which Kirk describes as being a quasar-like formation, and “a priceless opportunity for scientific study.” It’s pretty, I’ll give it that. Especially in the remastered version.

[ID: 1. A swirl of bright blue-green vapor glowing in the middle, in the midst of a starfield. 2. A large green cloud with a disc-like formation in the middle of it shot through with a beam of white light.]

Also, they have onboard one Galactic High Commissioner (now there’s a hell of a title) Ferris, who’s overseeing this whole medicine delivery business. Ferris has just now come up to the bridge, where Kirk is communicating with a shuttlecraft (you know, those shuttlecraft that they’ve definitely had all this time) about to launch, and boy, he looks like a fun guy.

[ID: Ferris, a white man with very short graying brown hair, wearing a blue uniform with an elbow-length cape on the back. He is standing just in front of the lift doors on the bridge, looking off to the side and somehow managing to look both grumpy and smug at the same time.]

Ferris is not happy about the Enterprise stopping to look at the glowy space cloud when they’ve got medicine to deliver, and on a tight schedule too. They’re supposed to be having a rendezvous with...somebody...to hand over the supplies so they can be transferred to the New Paris colony. Kirk says that that’s all very well, but he also, for some reason, has standing orders to investigate all quasars and quasar-like phenomena. Anyway, it’s a three day trip to Makus 3 and the rendezvous isn’t scheduled for another five, so they’ve got a two-day window, time enough for a roadside stopover.

This whole thing strikes me as odd. Not that such a formation would be scientifically interesting, I’m sure it would be. But the way Kirk talks about it, it’s as if this was some unexpected opportunity that they have to take advantage of because it won’t come again. But quasars (and, presumably, quasar-like phenomena) aren’t exactly the kind of thing that pop up one day and are gone the next. Also, they’re pretty hard to miss, and there’s no indication that they’re out in unexplored space or whatever. You could perhaps pass this off as the writers not knowing what a quasar is—likely--except that the thing has a name, which indicates that whatever it is, it’s been officially noticed and has stuck around long enough to be cataloged. So there’s no apparent reason why the Enterprise wouldn’t have been well aware, in advance, that this thing was going to be along their way, and no apparent reason why they have to study it right now. Are Kirk’s ‘standing orders’ so important that they supercede anything else the Enterprise happens to be doing at the moment? If the Federation cares about quasars (and quasar-like phenomena) so much, why not have dedicated science ships out there studying them instead of just making other ships stop and look at them whenever they get the chance?

To compound the problem, Ferris tells Kirk that he doesn’t want to take chances with this medicine delivery because “the plague” is out of control at New Paris and they really need these supplies. We’re obviously supposed to view Ferris as your standard unpleasant interfering bureaucrat, and he certainly doesn’t exactly have a charming personality, but to be honest, I think he kinda has a point on this one. It’d be one thing if the Enterprise was delivering some non-time-critical supplies and he was just being a grump about meeting a schedule, but, assuming The Plague lives up to that name, they’re delivering crucial life-saving medicine, and Kirk is being real dang cavalier about it. Yeah, they’ve got time until the meet-up—even though there’s no given explanation as to why the rendezvous has to be at that time and they couldn’t make it earlier, which would surely be preferable under the circumstances—but a lot of things can go wrong in space, which Kirk oughta be very well aware of by now. One would think they’d want to leave that window open in case they’re delayed by something unexpected, but no, let’s just go fly into a quasar, I guess, what could go wrong. This is like if they stopped in the middle of Balto to investigate an active volcano.

Kirk waves Ferris off and tells the shuttle, Galileo, that they’re cleared for takeoff, so off they take. Inside the shuttle is Spock, flying it; a male goldshirt; a female redshirt; Scotty; a male blueshirt; McCoy; and a male goldshirt. That’s seven alright. Seems like a bit of an odd selection. Given it’s a scientific expedition you’d expect a primarily science-focused crew, but here we’ve got Spock (makes sense), one blueshirt (cool), McCoy (for...whatever reason) two goldshirts (one is helping fly the shuttle, which makes sense, but the other one is just...there), a yeoman (who frankly has no business being there whatsoever) and Scotty. Scotty’s always good to have along, but what, specifically, they thought he would need to be doing on this trip, I don’t know.

As they fly towards the big green glowy thing, one of the goldshirts—Latimer—gives Spock a reading, then takes it back, saying the indicator’s gone crazy. The blueshirt, Boma, says that this is because quasars are really disruptive like that. The yeoman then reports that radiation is increasing.

With things already going wrong real bad, Spock tells Latimer to stop their forward momentum. Latimer gives it a shot, but nothing happens. Spock then tries to call the Enterprise, but gets only static. Man, it sure didn’t take long for this trip to go belly-up.

On the bridge, Uhura is likewise having radio trouble, unable to pick up anything from the Galileo except scattered fragments about them being pulled off-course. Kirk wants them to get a fix on the shuttle, but Sulu says the scanners are blank and that they’re getting “a mass of readings I’ve never seen before, nothing makes sense.” So...they’re blank or there’s a mass of readings? Which is it?

The ship computer chimes in with some technobabble that apparently means Murasaki 312 has ionized the entire sector. In a nutshell, their sensors are out, along with your choice of plot-relevant ship systems. Kirk looks mournfully out into the void and says, “At least four complete solar systems in the immediate vicinity, and out there, somewhere, a twenty-four foot shuttlecraft, off course, out of control. Finding a needle in a haystack would be child’s play.” What, you mean sending a lone shuttlecraft out to investigate a giant mysterious and dangerous space phenomena that said shuttlecraft was never equipped to handle, while on a time limit, didn’t turn out well? Who could have guessed!

After the titles, Kirk gives a log that just reiterates the situation: Murasaki 312 ate our shuttlecraft and now we can’t even look for it because our sensors are busted. Ferris is going on about how he told them so, which obviously is not endearing him to anyone. Kirk says they still have two days to find it, but as Ferris points out, you can’t search four solar systems in two days. At that point Uhura interrupts to say that there’s one inhabitable type-M planet in the solar system (she does not specify which solar system). It’s called Taurus 2, and it’s right in the middle of that big glowy mess out there. Oh, that’s convenient. Of course, they have no evidence that the Galileo landed on any planet, let alone that one—it could be anywhere in the vast amount of empty space in those solar systems, or it could have landed on one of the uninhabitable planets and they’re all going to die if they haven’t already. Lots of lovely possibilities! But they gotta start somewhere, so it’s off to Taurus 2.

By sheer coincidence, it turns out that in fact the Galileo has landed in the one place survivable enough to make an interesting episode out of. The outside of the shuttle looks okay, but from the inside it’s clear they had a rough landing. Everyone’s tossed all over the place clutching their heads and so forth, and a control panel is sparking pretty badly. McCoy goes into doctor mode and starts checking everyone out, but it looks like the only casualty was a bloody nose for Boma.

So what happened? Over a handkerchief, Boma says his best guess is that “the magnetic potential of the effect was such that as we gathered speed, it was multiplied geometrically,” causing them to be shot into Muraski 312 like a bullet. Scotty’s got a hell of a job ahead of him getting the shuttle back into shape. Man, it sure is lucky that they brought the chief engineer along on this trip. For whatever reason that they did.

McCoy does a scan of the atmosphere outside and says that it’s breathable—you wouldn’t want to run a marathon in it, but it’s breathable. Spock says they’d better clear out of there so Scotty has room to work and tells Latimer and the other goldshirt, Gaetano, to take some phasers and go scout around. They do, but no one else leaves. So much for giving Scotty room to work. Instead, McCoy sits in a chair the wrong way to talk to Spock.

[ID: McCoy and Spock sitting inside the Galileo. McCoy is sitting sideways with his back to the wall and one arm propped against the back of the chair, looking over at Spock, who is sitting forward and looking at his tricorder.]

McCoy, sitting sideways in chairs like a man after my own heart.

Spock and McCoy talk about their chances of being found. They don’t look good. Spock figures  the ionization effect that hit them is going to be widespread enough to affect the Enterprise too, leaving them without instrumentation to search with, which is going to make it damn hard for them to find the Galileo.

Sure enough, back on the big ship they’re still having no luck with the sensors, even after Sulu tried hooking them up to auxiliary power. Kirk calls the transporter room to see if they’ve got the transporters back online but the operator says that they beamed down some test material and it came back “in a disassociated condition” so they don’t dare try sending any humans through it yet. Yeesh. Yeah, I quite prefer being in an associated condition myself. In the meantime, Kirk tells the flight deck to get the other shuttle, the Columbus, ready to fly out and do a search of the planet’s surface.

Having a shuttle named Columbus is a bit unfortunate, since the most prominent explorer-type person named Columbus that comes to mind was an enormously terrible guy and one would hope we would have stopped giving him any kind of honor this far into the future. But then, the show never specifies that the shuttle is named after Christopher Columbus. Three hundred years from now there could easily have been another person named Columbus that did something significant, like a really cool astronaut or scientist. That’s my theory and I’m sticking with it.

While the Columbus gets ready, Uhura regretfully tells Kirk that communication is still impossible as both their transmission and reception are out. Ferris is still hanging around making a nuisance of himself, asking whether Kirk really thinks they’re going to find anything out there. Kirk says that he’s going to keep looking until the last possible minute and damn the odds (never tell Kirk the odds!), and Ferris says alright—but only until the last possible minute and not one second after.

Columbus heads off on its search, while down on the planet Spock goes outside to do some readings or whatever. McCoy follows him and comments that for as lousy as this situation is, it’s Spock’s big chance to get his command on. Spock says that he isn’t particularly enthused by the idea of being in command, but he’s not afraid of it either; it’s just a thing, neither good nor bad. But since he is in command now, he’s going to do it logically.

Inside, Scotty is elbows-deep in the shuttle’s dashboard. Things aren’t looking good. It seems they’ve lost a lot of fuel, so much that they don’t have any chance of reaching escape velocity and making orbit unless they lighten the load by about five hundred pounds. That’s the weight of three grown men, Spock points out. McCoy is all “uhhh how about we drop some equipment instead of some people” but Spock says that there’s just not that much non-essential equipment on the Galileo to begin with. The passengers are pretty much the only excess weight they have to lose, so either some people get left behind or it’s time to go build a refinery.

Boma is not happy with the turn this discussion has taken and asks who’s going to decide who has to stay behind. Spock says that, well, he’s in command, so it’s up to him to make that call. And no, despite what Boma suggests, he’s not planning to draw lots; he’ll make a logical decision based on logical means, logic logic.

Leaving the conversation on that cheerful note, Spock says they better go outside and make sure they haven’t overlooked any minor damage. Boma watches him leave and says, “If any minor damage was overlooked it was when they put his head together.” “Not his head, Mr. Boma,” McCoy says in the most dramatic manner possible. “His heart.” Thanks Bones.

Meanwhile the goldshirts are off scouting around in a ravine while some scary growling noises echo all around them. They decide to climb up the rocks nearby, because you know what would be a great idea right now: to expose themselves as much as possible. Sure enough, as they get to the top, something big and furry throws a giant spear at Latimer, impaling him in the back and knocking him into the ravine.

The rest of the party over at the Galileo hear Latimer’s scream and Spock and Boma go running to investigate. Gaetano climbs down the rocks while shooting his phaser wildly in various directions, as poor Latimer lies dead in the ravine with the spear shaft sticking up like a tree.

[ID: Gaetano, a white man with short dark hair, sitting on an outcropping in the side of a ravine and staring at a spearhaft that extends out of frame in both directions, while Spock approaches from around the corner.]

After the break, Spock and Boma arrive on the scene to find Gaetano sitting mournfully on a rock and staring at Latimer. He says he didn’t see the attacker clearly; he only knows that it was “something huge and terrible.” But he thinks he got it with one of those phaser blasts so Spock goes off to investigate. Gaetano tells Boma that the thing was “like a giant ape” and then, when Boma says, “Poor Latimer,” Gaetano optimistically says that at least Latimer was fortunate enough to die quickly. Thanks man. Really keeping up the team spirit there. But hey, on the plus side, now we only have to pick two people to leave behind.

Spock comes back and says that he didn’t find anything. Gaetano insists that there was something there and he’s sure that he hit it, which is more certainty than he had about one minute or so ago; Spock says he’s not doubting Gaetano, but the fact is there’s nothing there now. Then he pulls the spear out of Latimer—honestly I have no idea how the thing was even staying up in the first place—and examines it, saying that it resembles a kind of ancient Earth spear, but cruder and not very efficient.  Boma gets upset at this, irate that Spock can focus on things like the efficiency of the spear when there’s a man dead on the ground. The nerve of the man, gathering information about a dangerous and unknown situation. Spock points out that no amount of mourning is going to bring Latimer back to life. Gaetano, now also ticked off, says that they at least shouldn’t leave Latimer’s body there. Spock offers to help them carry the body back, but the two men coldly refuse and haul him off themselves.

[ID: Gaetano and Boma, a black man with short hair, carrying the body of Latimer between them through the ravine. Latimer’s shirt is pulled up exposing a black undershirt.]

Well, there’s at least one goldshirt who wears an undershirt.

On the Enterprise, Kirk notes in his log that their searching has turned up nothing, and he’s beginning to feel “a sense of utter futility, and great loss.” The transporters are still not safe to use, and Engineering is working on getting the sensors back online, but without Scotty around they’re real short on miracles, and not making much progress. But Kirk, of course, is not about to give up, and as soon as the Columbus comes back from searching a quadrant he orders them to start on the next one. Ferris is still hanging around pointedly reminding Kirk of how little time he has left, kind of like an annoying quest marker in a video game that pops up every five minutes to remind you to do the thing that you’re already doing.

Kirk orders the Columbus to expand its search radius by two degrees. Sulu points out that means they’ll be overlooking a dozen miles with each loop they make, but Kirk responds that it’s the only way they have a fighting chance of actually covering the whole planet in the time left to them. Ferris exits the bridge, but not before turning around in the lift and saying, “Twenty-four more hours, Captain,” as dramatically as he can.

Down below, Spock is offering some jury-rigging suggestions to Scotty, but of course Scotty’s already thought of all that and says it won’t work. Meanwhile, McCoy and the Yeoman are hauling some stuff out of the back of the shuttle, which should take off about fifty pounds of weight, and the yeoman thinks they can clear out another hundred pounds. A hundred and fifty pounds? What happened to there being nothing nonessential on this shuttle? Sure, that might not be much compared to the overall weight of the shuttle, but it’s a heck of a lot when you’re talking about having to leave people behind. Still, as Spock points out, even if they lose all that they’ll be another hundred and fifty pounds overweight. Hm, okay, if everyone loses twenty-five pounds we’ll be good.

McCoy can’t believe Spock is still planning to leave someone behind now that they know there are big dangerous furry guys out there with spears, but Spock points out that it’s a matter of saving one life, or six. In other words, the trolley problem. Or the shuttle problem, in this case.

Boma sticks his head in the door and says that they’re ready. Spock is confused about what, exactly, they’re ready for, and Boma says they’re doing a service for Latimer. Spock doesn’t want to lose any of their very limited time, but Boma insists that he should at least come and say a few words. In some desperation, Spock says that perhaps McCoy would be better for that, but McCoy insists it’s Spock’s place to do that, and Spock turning it down is met with hostility from everyone (except Scotty, who has bigger fish to fry, and the yeoman, who doesn’t seem to have any opinions on anything).

Call me a Vulcan, but I don’t entirely understand why this is a problem. McCoy would be the best person there to give any kind of funeral service. He’s a doctor, so he surely has more practice speaking about the recently deceased in a compassionate but formal way than anyone else there; he would be generally familiar with human funeral customs, unlike Spock, who would have an entirely different cultural background for such things; and he can more afford to spare the time because he’s really not urgently needed for anything at the moment. It might not be the most orthodox way of doing things, but under the circumstances I think we’re gonna have to skip the full formal ceremony with honors anyway.

But we don’t find out exactly how they resolved the funeral situation, instead skipping ahead to some time later. Spock and Scotty are still in the Galileo, Scotty digging through the innards of the shuttlecraft while Spock watches. Scotty grimly announces that a line has broken, meaning that they now have no fuel at all. So uh. Yeah, that’s bad. Spock tells him it’s time to start considering alternatives, to which an incredulous Scotty replies, “We have no fuel, what alternatives?” “Mr. Scott, there are always alternatives.” Like what? Black magic? “Alright, squad, I didn’t want to do this, but we’re gonna have to sacrifice Gaetano.”

At that moment, McCoy and the yeoman come running in, saying there’s something happening outside. Everyone runs outside, except Scotty, who can’t be bothered with any damn aliens or whatever when there’s an engine to be fixed. Gaetano and Boma are hiding behind a nearby rock while unsettling scraping kind of sounds echo all around them. Spock says it’s the sound of wood rubbing on leather, which Gaetano thinks means the aliens are about to attack. Boma points out that this could just be some kind of simple tribal rite, but Spock says that the artifacts prove these guys are too primitive for that. Um, artifacts? You have one. Or had one, more likely, that you looked at for like, fifteen seconds, before Boma started pitching a fit about it. There’s only so much anthropology you can do in that amount of time.

Boma thinks that if the aliens have any kind of tribal system, attacking one of them might drive the others off. Spock is like “oh, now we’re okay with having no sentimentality about life?” But Gaetano, raring to go phaser some cavemen, insists that “at least we’re practical about it.” Practical. Sure. You haven’t been practical about a damn thing since y’all landed on this rock, but now you want to start, huh?

When asked, McCoy says that Boma’s plan seems logical to him, which is a bit unusual—he’s usually the last one to be okay with any plan that involves killing, though at least he doesn’t exactly seem enthusiastic about this. Boma tries to invoke majority rules and Spock has to remind him that this isn’t a democracy. Man, Starfleet crewmembers seem to have to be reminded of that a lot. You’d think they’d go over this at the Academy.

Obviously they’ve gotta do something, but Spock is still uncomfortable with the idea of murdering the locals and decides to take a third option. McCoy and the yeoman (whose name, we finally learn, is Mears) are sent back to the shuttle to help Scotty, while Boma and Gaetano are to go with Spock. He tells them very sternly that they’re going to follow his orders to the letter and fire only at the targets he designates, which, again, doesn’t seem like a concept they should need a refresher on but here we are. Boma and Gaetano are all over this plan until Spock says that they’re only going to fire to frighten the aliens, not to kill them, at which point they go right back to sulking.

So the three of them head off into the Emyn Muil over there, skulking along through the ankle-high mist with phasers at the ready.

[ID: Spock, Boma and Gaetano approaching cautiously through the ravine, the floor of which is blanketed with white vapor.]

“Careful, boys, we’re in the land of dry ice machines now.”

Another giant spear comes flying at them, but luckily this one doesn’t hit anyone. They dodge behind some rocks and Spock fires his phaser, causing a nearby giant to drop a shield into the ravine. A shield that rather dramatically changes size between shots.

[ID: 1. Spock stands in the ravine with his phaser out, Gaetano and Boma crouched at his side. A large, crude leather shield has fallen to the ground in front of them. 2. The three men crouching in front of the shield, which is now so large all three of them can stand alongside it with room to spare.]

They get into position at Spock’s specifications, and he tells them to fire at designated angles on his command, but even now, Gaetano still wants to argue about it. His protests notwithstanding, Spock has them fire for a bit. Figuring the giants should be frightened off for now, he goes back to the Galileo with Boma, leaving Gaetano on sentry duty. He seems a bit too far from the shuttle to be serving as effective sentry duty, but maybe Spock just wanted to not have to deal with him for a while.

Back at the Galileo, Scotty has, what do you know, conjured up an alternative: he thinks he can adjust the shuttle’s main reactor to function with a substitute fuel supply. What substitute fuel supply do they have? The phasers! Of course, if they use all their phasers to fuel the shuttle, they won’t have any means of defense, but if they don’t, they’re all gonna die anyway, so there’s not much of a choice in the matter. Scotty says that if he uses up all the phasers he can achieve orbit with all remaining hands, although he won’t be able to maintain it very long.

As Spock points out, the Enterprise is going to have to leave in less than twenty-four hours now, so if they don’t achieve orbit in that time they’re screwed anyway. The general assumption seems to be that they have no chance of surviving on the planet long enough to be rescued, even if the Enterprise came right back. Which could well be true—I doubt they have much in the way of survival supplies on the shuttle, and there are hostile aliens all around. On the other hand, they haven’t yet tried actually defending themselves to their fullest capability, and the presence of those big guys would seem to indicate that there’s something to eat around here. I’m not saying they could definitely survive long enough for a later rescue, it just seems odd that everyone takes it for granted that staying on the planet will be a death sentence.

So Spock tells McCoy to hand over his phaser, which for some reason prompts a dramatic musical sting, even though they literally just went over their plans to do that, and anyway it’s not like McCoy gets a lot of use out of the thing. Scotty takes McCoy’s phaser along with Spock’s and sets about transferring their power to the shuttle reactor, which he seems to be doing by just sticking the phasers down in there and firing them at said reactor.

Up on the Enterprise, the transporter guys run a test on some objects that come back intact, and the operator tells Kirk that in his opinion, the transporter is now safe for humans. Which is not a statement that I think I would find terribly comforting if it was me going through that thing. Kirk seems alright with it, though, because he immediately orders landing parties to start going down. The transporter operator points out that he’s talking about searching a planet on foot in less than twenty-four hours, which, y’know, is really unlikely to work, but Kirk isn’t interested in hearing it.

In the ravines, Gaetano is stumbling around nervously amidst sounds of growling giants. A rock comes flying at him, hitting his hand and knocking away his phaser, followed by another spear. Rather than attempt to pick up the phaser, Gaetano tries to climb up the cliff wall, a course of action that very quickly peters out. He falls back down and cowers against the cliff while a giant slowly approaches from the end of the ravine.

I question the decision to actually show the giant onscreen because, frankly, he’s just not that impressive. Sure, he’s big, but he’s like, Andre the Giant big, not as big as you would be thinking from the size of the spear and shield. Seriously, that spear was like three times the size of Gaetano.

Also, for some reason he’s walking with his arms straight out like Frankenstein’s monster.

[ID: Gaetano backed up against a cliff wall in fear while a large furry man with arms extended walks towards him.]

Gaetano just kind of sits there whimpering while the giant slowly closes in on him and grabs him. He screams as the scene cuts to black, which is probably for the best because I don’t think there was ever a good way to resolve that particular bit of choreography.

After the break, Spock, McCoy and Boma are examining the ravine, where there is now no trace of Gaetano except his fallen phaser. Spock retrieves the phaser and gives it to McCoy to take back to Scotty. Boma is, shockingly, outraged by how Spock is “acting like nothing’s happened at all.” Yes, thank you, Boma. Spock then gives McCoy his own phaser as well to take back in case he doesn’t return—he’s going to go look for Gaetano, alone. The other two men watch him head off into the ravine. One might expect this to prompt some “oh I guess he really does care” response, but instead McCoy is just kind of like “yeah I don’t know he’s weird” and then they leave.

Spock heads through the land of fogginess and soon discovers poor ol Gaetano dead and laid out on a rock. The seriousness of this situation is somewhat undercut by Spock’s reaction, which is not so much that of a man discovering a dead comrade or even the stern stoicness of an inscrutable alien, but more a look that suggests that he just spilled a drink on the floor and is annoyed about having to clean it up.

[ID: Gaetano’s dead body slumped over a rock while Spock stands over him with his hands on his hips.]

Nimoy, my man, I love you, but why

Well, no man left behind and all that, so Spock hoists Gaetano into a fireman’s carry and takes him back to the Galileo. Along the way the giants return to throw more and more spears at him, but fortunately they are all terrible shots so none of them hit and despite having to go slow Spock makes it back just fine.

McCoy and Boma help him get Gaetano into the shuttle, and they’re not happy. McCoy points out that Spock’s super logical plan of frightening away the giants didn’t work out so well. Spock expresses open confusion about this because logically the giants should have retreated in the face of superior weaponry. McCoy snaps back that Spock’s downfall was only considering the possibility of a rational response and not an emotional one.

The whole conversation is, to be honest, kinda stupid. Spock’s handling of the situation is portrayed as a downfall of his prioritizing logic and not considering anything else (the writing of which doesn’t really fit Spock’s actual character, but we’ll get to that later). He expected the giants to react logically and the episode lets us know that that was the wrong option. The problem is, they’re dealing with a completely unknown, unstudied, alien race here. There’s no way, logically or emotionally, to know how they would react to anything. Sure, Spock assuming that they would retreat in fear rather than retaliate in anger turned out to be wrong, but they have absolutely no way of knowing whether following Boma’s plan would have worked any better. It’s entirely possible the giants would have been more angered by one of them being killed. Hell, it’s possible that none of this had anything to do with either fear or anger; it could have been motivated by something else entirely. For all they know the giants are just hungry. McCoy’s response isn’t necessarily surprising; McCoy’s always going to have a strong reaction to someone dying while he’s around, which he often expresses by lashing out, and Spock’s the closest possible target. But in the context of the arc of the episode we’re clearly supposed to take this to mean that Spock screwed up, when really, any choice in this situation was always going to be a gamble.

Anyway, things are quiet for the moment, and Yeoman Mears wonders why. Spock thinks the giants are probably studying the Galileo. Of course, as soon as he says that, the shuttle starts to shake. Aww, it’s like a mini Star Trek Shake. Adorable.

Turns out the shuttle is shaking all over the place because a giant is hitting it with a rock.

[ID: The shuttlecraft Galileo sitting among cliff walls while a giant stands over it with a large boulder poised to strike.]

Spock is just really surprised by all this, musing that he’s “made the correct and logical decisions all along...and yet two men have died!” And now the giants are attacking! And McCoy and Boma are mad at him! How strange! He seems to just be kind of mildly perplexed about all this, as if it’s a crossword puzzle he can’t quite figure out.

Up on the ship, there’s a brief interlude in which Kirk laments that the landing parties haven’t found anything, the instruments still aren’t working, there’s really nothing they can do, and then Ferris reminds him of how much time he has left. About the only purpose it serves is to tell us how much time has been passing, which I’ll admit is helpful because there’s absolutely no way to tell that from the rest of the episode. Apparently it’s been almost two days, but you’d never guess that if you just watched the sections taking place on the planet, which really give no indication at all that they’ve been down there that long.

Back in the still-shaking shuttle, Spock abruptly seems to get an idea and asks Scotty what shape the shuttle batteries are in. Scotty says they’re fine, but the batteries aren’t going to be making that shuttle take off in any circumstance. That’s not what Spock is up to, though. He wants to know if the shuttle batteries could electrify the exterior of the shuttle. Scotty immediately catches on and gleefully says that oh yes, they can. Really? Why can they do that? Who designed this?

So while everyone huddles on the floor carefully not touching anything metal (good thing this shuttle is carpeted), Scotty takes a panel off the wall and whacks the batteries with a wrench a few times. Sure enough, this causes quite a lot of electricity to go sparking across the outside of the shuttle. The giant is remarkably persistent even while being electrocuted, but eventually the shaking stops.

They’re clear for the moment, but there’s no telling how long the giants will stay away. In the meantime, Spock tells them to keep on clearing out the shuttle and lighten the load as much as absolutely possible. Of course, there’s one non-essential thing on board that comes immediately to mind: Gaetano’s body. It’s unfortunate but they’re going to have to leave him behind.

Boma insists on at least having a burial for him, but Spock points out that’s a big risk since the giants are not very far off. They’d be risking the safety of those who are still alive. But Boma starts getting really worked up about this, coldly telling Spock that, “I would insist upon a decent burial even if your body was back there.” McCoy and Scotty immediately reprimand him for going too far, but Boma doesn’t seem deterred.

Seriously, you gotta wonder what the deal is with Boma and Gaetano (or what was the deal with Gaetano, rather). Of course the situation is bad and they have every right to be uncomfortable or upset about it. But throughout the episode the two of them act like this is the first time they’ve ever had to even consider that they might have to make sacrifices or do hard things for the sake of getting as many people out alive as possible. If they were civilians thrust into this situation it’d be understandable. But we’re talking about trained military personnel. You’d kind of expect them to have at least some familiarity with ideas like “sometimes you may have to leave a dead man behind for the sake of those who are still alive.” Spock’s decisions throughout this episode are sometimes harsh but they are, well, logical for the situation they’re in. Sure, he could be more tactful about it. But tact is not a priority here! Boma and Gaetano seem to have just decided in advance to take issue with everything Spock does, and we’re supposed to see this as some conflict of emotion versus logic instead of them just being totally unwilling to deal with anything they don’t like.

On the Enterprise, one of the landing parties beams up with one dead crewmember and two injured ones. The leader of the party reports to the bridge over a viewscreen and tells Kirk they ran into some big furry cavemen; the dead crewmember got speared while another one somehow dislocated their shoulder. If the planet is populated by such aliens, the party leader points out, things don’t look real good for the Galileo crew.

Kirk is still loathe to give up hope, but at that point Ferris comes onto the bridge to tell him that the forty-eight hours are up and he’s assuming the authority granted to him by a special ordinance. In other words, they gotta go. Kirk doesn’t want to, but he has no choice but to call the search parties and the Columbus back and lay in a course for Makus 3.

After the break, Kirk gives a quick log to say that I don’t wanna leave but I guess we HAVE TO UUUUGHH. Uhura says that their sensor beams are now working, but everything else is still dead. Their course is set, and they have twenty-three minutes left before the Columbus gets back onboard.

On the Galileo, the yeoman is trying to contact the Enterprise, but predictably is not getting an answer. Scotty tells Spock that if they take absolutely everything they can out of the shuttle they can achieve orbit for a few hours, and if they’re real careful they might be able to manage a controlled re-entry—but, of course, the only place they would be re-entering is this dumb planet, so that’s not really an appealing backup plan. At any rate, Scotty figures they can take off in eight minutes—precise--so Spock gives the rest of the crew ten minutes to bury Gaetano. Not much time for a service, but it’s the best they’re gonna get. Meanwhile the Columbus has returned to the Enterprise and everyone’s ready to go, so it looks like Kirk can’t delay any longer. He tells Sulu to proceed to Makus 3...at space normal speed (whatever that is). Oh, and to direct the sensor beams behind them as they go. After all, he has to leave, but he doesn’t have to leave quickly. I mean, except for the plague victims and all that.

The Galileo crew gather in front of a couple of mounds, all set for their speedrun funeral service. (I have no idea what they dug the graves with.) Before anyone can even break out a eulogy, though, the proceedings are disrupted by the return of the giants. Oh, it’s almost like Spock was right about this being dangerous. Fancy that.

Spock yells at everyone else to get back inside the ship while he throws one of the spears back at the giants in an extremely last-ditch move that fails to accomplish anything. He promptly gets hit by a boulder that pins his leg, and tries to order the rest of the crew to leave him behind. They don’t, of course; McCoy and Boma run back to move that terribly heavy and definitely not polystyrene boulder off of Spock, and the three of them beat it back to the Galileo.

As soon as they’re inside, Spock immediately chastises them for not leaving him behind, as if McCoy would ever let anyone out-martyr him that easily. Unfortunately, the delay has given the giants time to surround the shuttle, and now they’re holding it down so it can’t take off. Spock has no choice but to activate the boosters, which gives them enough power to break free...but the spent fuel cuts down on the amount of time they’ll be able to maintain orbit. As he grimly tells McCoy and Boma, by saving him they may have destroyed their own last chance for survival. McCoy tells him to zip it.

Incidentally, I note that for all the talk of lightening the shuttle as much as possible, they didn’t remove the seats. I’d say that was for safety reasons, but since the things don’t have seatbelts I don’t really know how well they’re actually going to keep anyone from bouncing around the cabin.

According to Scotty they can make one orbit and then they’re going down, and since they used the boosters, they don’t even have enough fuel to make a controlled landing. That is one heck of a quickly decaying orbit. I’m no astrophysicist, but I think once you actually make it into orbit you’re usually good for a while.

Yeoman Mears protests that she doesn’t want to die up there. Well, no. I doubt anyone else does, either. Scotty reminds Spock of that thing he said about how there are always alternatives, and Spock admits that he may have been mistaken about that.

[ID: Spock sitting in the foreground while behind him McCoy, one hand on his chin, looks off to the side and says, “Well, at least I lived long enough to hear that.”]

For all that McCoy is usually the first one to protest at length about how space is gonna kill them all, when it looks like he actually is going to die in space, he’s remarkably calm about it.

They reach orbit, and Scotty says they have forty-five minutes, so you’ve about got time to write a will if you don’t own too much. Spock makes one last effort to contact the Enterprise, but nothing. Then he notices a switch. What’s this? ‘Fuel jettison’? I wonder what that does?

Spock flips the switch, jettisoning and igniting all their fuel. Naturally everyone is all wtf man. But on the Enterprise, Sulu looks up and sees a bright green line suddenly streaking across the planet behind them. Kirk immediately tells him to TURN THIS SHIP AROUND MISTER.

[ID: The viewscreen of the Enterprise, showing a rocky planet shrouded in green clouds, with a single bright green line trailing across it near the equator.]

All our sensors still no match for looking out the window.

As the crew of the Galileo waits for their doom, Scotty realizes what Spock’s idea was. It was well done, he says, but Spock doesn’t think there was anyone there to see. Their orbit begins to decay, and things start burning.“It’s getting hot,” Mears says. Thanks, Yeoman Obvious.

But then, amid the smoke filling the cabin, there is at the last moment a sparkle of gold. On the bridge of the Enterprise Kirk sits tensely in his chair, waiting, waiting—and then the transporter officer reports in. Moments before the Galileo disintegrated entirely, they beamed up five people.

Five people. It’s good news, of course, but seven people went out on the Galileo. I wonder what went through Kirk’s head in the time before he found out who didn’t make it back.

Well, we’re never gonna know about that. They head off to finally deliver that plague medicine, and sometime later McCoy’s up on the bridge chatting with Kirk, seemingly quite chill about that whole near-death experience they just had. As Spock walks by, Kirk flags him down to ask about that whole igniting the fuel business. After all, there was virtually no chance of them being seen. So it had to be an act of desperation, and desperation is an emotion, right? You did something emotional, right?

Spock says no, it was a logical act. And, well, it kinda was? Sure, it had barely any chance of working, but they had absolutely no other options, and it was the only thing that had any chance of working at all. It was either do that and risk dying soon, or not do it and definitely die in about forty minutes. But everyone is all ha ha, we got ya, you did something emotional! And the episode ends on a group laugh. Could be a stress laugh, I suppose, but it feels distinctly awkward considering we’ve still got two men dead, whose families will never get their bodies back.

No one really gets served well in this episode. The writing for Spock especially feels skewed distinctly out of character. Yes, he’s all about the logic, and sometimes he struggles to understand humans and their whole deal, but this episode takes it to an extreme. Spock’s far from completely ignorant of emotions—much as he might like to claim otherwise—and he’s certainly not stupid enough to think that doing things logically always guarantees success, not when you can’t control all the variables. His bewilderment that rational thinking didn’t automatically work just comes off as outright silly. The episode tries to set up this whole arc in which Spock tries to solve problems only with logic, fails, and then finally succeeds by committing an emotional act, but it fails for multiple reasons: first, because most of the emotion vs logic conflicts in the episode feel contrived and overwrought and make everyone else look way more unreasonable than Spock; secondly, because the final ‘emotional’ act is actually pretty logical; but mostly, because it feels far too simple a lesson for Spock to need to learn at this point. Yes, it’s his first command, but he’s an experienced Starfleet officer who’s been living and working with humans for over a decade. I could easily see him having some difficulty commanding humans for the first time, and that would have been a good episode if it was done more subtly, but as Spock Learns That Some Things Are Illogical For The First Time Ever, it just doesn’t work.

Meanwhile we’ve got Kirk, for whom arguing with bureaucrats and bending rules to save his crew is hardly out of character, but the urgency of their larger mission makes his flippancy about it seem uncharacteristically callous. McCoy complaining about things and arguing with Spock is perfectly on track, but some of his comments edge uncomfortably out of ‘vitriolic friends’ territory and into just plain vitriol, especially him being willing to go along with some of Boma’s nonsense. Maybe I’m biased about that, but this episode feels as if the writer was given descriptions of the characters but didn’t really understand what made them actually work in practice.

Well, except for Scotty. Scotty was alright.

TREK TROPE TALLY: We have two goldshirt deaths in this episode with Gaetano and Latimer. Next time we’re in for some serious fop with a side of dandy in The Squire of Gothos.

[thataspdfeel]

what do you think abt aspd/bpd or aspd/empath relationships? any thoughts or experiences?

ok so alex and i have talked about my disorders and we’re pretty sure i have bpd and a conduct disorder as opposed to aspd like i was diagnosed. i’ve been debating about if i should continue this blog since i don’t necessarily have full-blown aspd myself but just the conduct disorder. but there isn’t really anybody on tumblr other than alex i’d trust with this blog because there are way too many Edgelord Pure Psychopath™ people floating around. y’all can draw blog names out of a hat and probably find one, frankly

that said, my wife is an empath and it’s absolutely debilitating for them. it’s kind of refreshing for them to be around me, someone who has no empathy because they’ll describe a problem or situation they’re having socially and i’ll respond in my usual way (fuck that guy, he’s a dick; i’m going to steal her kneecaps; why is that bothering you exactly?) and they’ll realize when they’ve been treated poorly versus when they’re overreacting to things and when they needs to disengage. instead of trying to process their emotions like somebody else with empathy and then “respond accordingly” ie filter it in a way i think would be best for them, they can tell from my blunt responses what the truth is by seeing the middle between their reaction and mine

alternatively, i’ll be bothered by something but not care enough to say or feel it’s not important and they’ll be able to tell and tease it out of me. i’ll also encounter a situation where i’m PRETTY SURE someone is treating me poorly, but won’t be sure due to autism or a slew of other issues, run it by them and they’ll be able to confirm or deny. or i’ll be having a tense situation with somebody, they’ll sense our emotions, see both sides, and mediate effectively. that tends to be more exhausting for them but like it’s a huge boon for the other people involved

this is a double-edged sword, however. i have SO MUCH TROUBLE filtering things to sound non antagonistic just because i’m very blunt about how i feel. i’ve been slowly working towards saying things like “i feel neglected lately so maybe we should spend some time together” rather than “i feel neglected when you don’t spend time with me” which places the blame on them for my own feelings “you need to spend more time with me” which doesn’t explain how i feel but commands a solution that, to my wife, feels like i’m just rudely demanding something of them

this has led to a LOT of fights especially recently after i moved in with them. part of it is indeed my own inability to communicate in a “polite” manner (which i’m working on with my therapist!) but part of it is their empath sensitivity feeling like i’m purposely attacking them whenever i try to bring up an issue. it’s a complex problem but because my wife can’t turn their empathy/sensitivity off, it’s up to me to make sure i’m communicating as effectively as possible in order to minimize conflict with each other and maximize effort towards a solution

so like, as far as my own experiences go, it’s both good and bad like most other things. if i’m not careful, i can be not just toxic but outright abusive if i’m not curtailing my own blutness and words. in turn, my wife can easily miscontrue how i feel and drive a wedge in our relationship. if we’re not very careful with how we interact with each other, our relationship can turn into a toxic waste dump of nuclear power

so far though, we’re both hyper aware of this as we’ve both been in abusive relationships. i myself have been both victim and abuser so i’m especially aware of how easily i can turn into something i don’t like. but we’ve known each other for almost 10 years now, and been together romantically for somewhere in the vicinity of almost half that. we’ve grown apart then back together again over the years. we’re imperfect individuals but our love has kept us going, cheesy as that sounds, it’s very much true

anyway, i hope that answered your question! i feel that, overall, that these relationships can be the most wonderful, fulfilling things you could ever experience or the exact opposite. it all depends on the personalities of the people involved as well as how self aware they are and willing to work to be better people

[paisleywraith]

hey, I know you've currently finished your superhero AU but I was wondering... What is Stan's powers and what does he look like? I kinda wanted to cosplay him and I really liked your version of him so I thought I'd ask

Hello, friend! I’d be glad to chat more about Stan’s abilities…in my original draft he was more prominent in mentor and it’s one of the things I wish I had more time for…he got a bit overlooked. 

That being said, I’d be glad to tell you more about him, and I hope your cosplay works out great, I’d love to see when you’re done!

Uniform:

Stan’s underlying uniform is a black jumpsuit, he owns two depending on how hot/cold the conditions outside are, fits from neck to toes. Slight reinforcements are made into the knees/elbows, he can take a decent tumble without being badly hurt. 

He wears a shirt with his logo that is best described as a white crop top. He has leather bracers and boots. He has reinforcers for his shoulders, on which to perch weaponry or roll on to cushion a fall. (looks like metal but is flexible.)

He has a large pack he wears on his back, full of gear, but if he gets into a fight typically he takes what he needs and drops it. He has a holster on his side for his weaponry. 

As of right now, he sports black eyeliner and goggles with the lenses tinted orange…whether it’s practical or for show he hasn’t given anyone a straight answer. (It’s a thermal reader) 

He also is currently going by the name ‘Dissever’ but everyone that knew him before this stage still calls him Toolshed. He just can’t get it to catch on. 

Abilities:

Stan is a mostly-weaponry-based superhero, and practically no one knows that he actually made most of his things himself…with some help. He’s worked a lot with other heroes and shares a few gadgets with them. Among his arsenal are:

EMP devices. Created with Terabyte, these are round objects that he tosses to disrupt any and all electronic devices in the immediate vicinity. (He was working with them on a type of gun before they had a little bit of a falling out). 

His holster holds a long cylinder that looks kind of like a small telescope. It’s actually a laser, emitting a green beam capable of slicing through steel. And limbs. He doesn’t usually use it in fighting, as it’s a little too easy to kill someone. He keep it close so it’s never stolen. 

His latest creation is a sword that looks like it’s made of glass, only it’s scabbard keeps the weapon hot. It has an unnatural look and it’s combined sharpness and heat makes it useful against anything organic. Not very helpful otherwise. (But it’s super cool.)

He shares what he terms ‘spy devices’ with Containment and later “Mysterion”, your basic listening devices, gps trackers, even a couple smoke bombs who’s primary use is being tossed at other heroes when they’re being annoying. Containment obtained most of these. 

Powers:

Arguably, Stan’s greatest asset is his connections. He’s one of the only people who will work with others, often bouncing around one person to the next when the situation calls for it. The Witch and Tera are his primary friends, but people have seen him work closely with a pre-accident Chaos, Mosquito, Containment, and is later often seen with “Mysterion.” He refuses to work directly with SuperStrike, though he’d worked with WonderStrike with no problem whatsoever. 

His connections allow him to gather people together, despite his cynical and doubtful nature he’s somehow obtained a surprising amount of friends in the hero community, despite the fact he’s teased often for his ever-changing persona. Maybe it’s the fact he’s so cynical to begin with…his trust feels real once you’ve earned it. His respect is genuine. 

In summary, Arsenal-based hero, somewhere between spy and fantasy hero, a lil emo, and basically every teen’s ideal casual and unpowered hero. 

I’m so sorry, dear friend, this is probably way more than you asked for. I went on a ramble. :) 

If this helps, or actually if it doesn’t help, come back to my inbox and tell me. I’ll get you something better. 

Good luck with your costume!!!

[surveysonfleek]

822.

Describe the last situation in which you had to give up on an individual?: it was nothing too serious. i kept asking my friends when we should hang and it was just too hard to plan so i gave up lol.

What are some things that cause you to abandon association with someone?: differences in opinions about things that matter to me.

When was the last time you made a new friend?: probably at work.

How social would you say you are?: not as much as i used to be.

What is the most unusual thing within your general vicinity?: an apple flavoured kit kat.

What are some things you enjoy that not many others do?: surveys? i doubt many of my friends would do this lol.

If you have a Tumblr account, what influences your content?: nothing really, i’ll just reblog anything i like.

Are you one who considers preserving your past important? : yes.

When was the last time you had some sort of a meltdown?: a couple weeks ago lol.

Are you currently waiting for anything? If so, what?: a day off.

When was the last time you were surprised by something or someone?: i forgot.

Do the holidays affect your mood? In what way?: yes. both good and bad ways.

How early do you start planning for Thanksgiving and Christmas?: there’s no thanksgiving here. but for christmas i started really early last year. like october lol.

When was the last time you saw someone about whom you cared?: huh.

Is there anyone with whom you wish you could hang out?: yes.

What is it that is preventing you from being in the company of that person?: life. we’re all just too busy.

What are some things that you like to do with your spare time?: sleep, eat. hang out with my boyfriend.

When was the last time you were super busy?: today.

Would you prefer to have a full schedule, or a lot of free time?: free time for sure.

Is camping an activity that you enjoy? How about hiking?: no to both.

What is the worst location in which you have lived? Best?: probably in this tiny apartment when i was 7-8, we lived there while our house was getting built. the best is the house i live in now.

What is one thing that you would want to change about yourself?: my outlook.

Do you find it uncomfortable to think about changing who you are?: yes and no. i should.

Has anyone ever requested that you change for them?: no.

When was the last time you went out somewhere by yourself?: tonight when i had work.

How about the last time you went somewhere with a group of people?: out for dinner.

Do you prefer social or solitary situations more, or does it depend?: depends on my mood. these days i prefer to be alone or hang out with a very small group of people.

What is one routine you perform daily?: skincare.

What is one way in which you waste time?: sleep.

What was the last thing you did that was healthy?: walked. a lot.

What was the last thing you did that could harm your health?: ate something unhealthy.

Do you know anyone who self-injures?: no.

Have you ever had to reside with an individual who had a mental disorder?: no.

Do you enjoy shopping for groceries? What do you like to get?: sometimes. i usually get stuff i can cook.

Do you remember most of your past Halloween costumes?: sorta.

Do you enjoy the transformation of leaves in autumn?: i don’t notice it that much tbh. the leaves here are already an ugly colour.

Is snow a form of weather you appreciate?: i haven’t experienced it properly since i was 15. so i can’t really say.

Have you accomplished anything of which you should be proud?: yes.

What was the last thing about which you complained?: work.

How do you feel when you hear other people complaining?: i start to get annoyed if it’s over the same thing.