#the first opener Sophie Powers was really cool i really liked them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

webbedphantom · 10 months ago

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He didn't need to worry. He'd been through some crazy things, but never anything like that.

... Not yet, anyway-

"Oh, he'll definitely be enough!" Aaron chimed in, clear excitement on his mask.

"The world we're going to isn't even in the 2100's, so even though worlds with super people tend to be far more advanced than worlds without them, it shouldn't be an issue for him."

Man, just the idea of working with a sentient AI was making him all giddy. Sure, he'd already met one, even if poor Sophie was trapped in Futaba's armor systems, but that didn't make this any less cool.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the other's apology. Is this what it was like for everyone else when he argued with Arsène?

"It is pretty handy... Though, it kinda freaked me out at first. Before I accepted Arsène, I didn't have any control over it. So one minute I'm enjoying my lunch and talking with Ryuji, the next I'm having a minor panic attack after seeing that my legs were just gone-"

Yep, even the small amount of darkness beneath the table was enough to activate that power. And the rest of his abilities had been similarly disorienting.

He marveled a bit at his explanation of Shinigami. It was very different from the Personas he knew, though he supposed that it made sense. It's not like the Metaverse was the only supernatural thing in existence.

"Well, either way, let's hope that your little friend can't set off their danger senses from whatever ethereal plane he calls home."

He didn't think that he could, though it's not like he knew how it all worked, both the creature in question, as well as the sixth sense they were trying to avoid.

"Don't worry! I've made something similar in the past." He remarked proudly. "Though this particular iteration is going to need some chemistry knowledge. Thankfully, I happen to know a certain student council president who's an expert in the field~"

He was so lucky to have such smart friends. Between his engineering skills, Makoto's chemical know how, and Futaba's computer science wizardry, there was almost nothing they couldn't make together. Sure, it wouldn't be too fancy, he was limited on parts, not to mention his budget for said parts, but it'd get the job done.

"Awesome! See ya next week then!"

With that, he headed over to the window by his bed, lifting it open and preparing to swing away.

"Oh, and feel free to hang around here for a bit if you want. Just be sure to take your glasses off if you head downstairs. I don't really wear mine anymore, so it might raise some suspicion for anyone not in the know."

Granted, Sojiro and his team were well aware of his counterpart's situation, but he was more worried about the regulars or his other neighbors... or Tae for that matter. Having to explain the multiverse to the doctor did not sound fun-

"Oh, and don't touch anything on my desk. Some of those projects are a bit sensitive... and explosive-"

"... anyways, I gotta patrol. Catch ya later!"

He fired out a webline, before tugging sharply on it and swinging away.

____________________________________________

Shibuya Crossing - Rooftop

Saturday - December 23rd

One Week Later

Things had gone fairly well since the two had last met up. He'd gotten a little distracted spending time with his friends, and his Aunt, who'd come to visit him for the season, but he'd still managed to gather what they needed.

However, due to his adoptive mother-figure's surprise arrival, they'd needed to move their meeting elsewhere. She wasn't exactly privy to his other life, and since he'd planned to keep it that way, he didn't want to risk her running into him.

He swung onto the scene, his bookbag hanging off his shoulder as he landed gracefully in front of the other.

"Sorry I'm late. Ran into a guy robbing banks with a very large wheel... But I got the gear!"

He took the bag off his shoulder, before opening it up, tossing two metal bracelets and two dark red cartridges to his counterpart.

"These are webshooters! Makoto came in clutch with the formula to make the actual webs, should be near identical to what the Society uses."

He'd be sure to explain how they worked, as well as the function of those odd red pieces, but for now, it was best to focus on the task at hand. The infiltration plan.

He pulled out a small projector, switching it on before tossing it on the floor, allowing it to display a holographic map of their target. Earth-928's Alchemax Tower, the main headquarters of the Spider-Society.

The tower was impossibly tall, over twice the height of the Empire State Building. Along the building were orange lines and bright red areas, as well as their destination, the Go-Home Machine, marked in yellow.

"Hobie did his best to fill in the patrol routes and public hangout spots from memory, but he doesn't know if they'll still be accurate. What he does know is that most members should be in their home dimensions for the holidays, meaning we won't have nearly as many Spiders to sneak around."

"Lastly, the security seems less worried about keeping people out, and more about keeping them in, especially on the higher floors. Meaning that our best way in will likely be towards the top of the building."

A lot of the patrols seemed to focused around the prison area, which was a good ways away from their target. If they could avoid being detected, they might not even have to worry about the guards.

"So... What's the plan?"

"I'm up for swapping stories if you are." Seakira chuckled. "Though I admit it wasn't so much 'sun' as... very white. To the point Arsene was white. White and gold, and myself as well. White hair, white skin - porcelain-like, not... you know. Caucasian."

"Anyone who knew about Yaldabaoth would probably have probably thought I was one of his minions." It also hurt like the damned, and wasn't something he hoped anyone else had gone through. Certainly not his alternates, that was for sure.

And certainly not this one. Seakira liked this Joker, and didn't want to learn he'd ALSO basically temporarily fried his soul to help a world not die.

"Not sure who Nichole is, but my guess is probably, yeah~! If Nichole is a little mechanical lifeform with a mind of her own~" He knew Sonic, but never really payed attention to the series - Seakira hoped that wasn't gonna get him roped into a watch party.

Or did he? It had been a while since he'd watched any television... Hm. Something to think on later.

"Kenzo's usually enough, hacking-wise - his worlds time period was..." Seakira trailed off, at which point, said little droid happily chimed in to help-

'The last year I was aware of it being, it was 3234. Then I was... caught. And stuck with The Spider for a while...'

"Ah, yes, thank you - 3234 was the last date he was aware of back in his home world, so usually he's more than enough, hacking-wise. Most machines and codes in modern day just aren't robust enough to be much of a challenge, according to him."

'Of course they aren't! Most systems outside of my world have a single security check and that's it - they don't even have a basic VI to-'

"Okay, okay, calm down, we can rant about 2000's security not being up to the standards of a 3000's machine lifeform later-" He could feel the little droid huffing in the back of his... mind, resettling into whatever silent corner he usually sat in. "Sorry. Anyway, where were we... Ah. Yes, mildly jealous of the invisibility thing since I don't have that yet, and... Shinigami isn't a Persona, per say. He's a creature I met in another world, made a deal with him. It's effectively a more mutualistic 'I give you power and you give me things' contract, but I've never been sure if he's on my person or just reaching through realities." He might've been hitchhiking in his body, now, come to think of it - alternate realities might be too far for even a Voidsent to reach...

"All that aside, a grapple that they'd tune out sounds like it'd be very handy - if it's not too difficult, of course. I've been sent into places with less advantage. It all sounds good to me, though - an EMP might be a bit tricky, but I'm confidant I can come up with one. So... Yeah~! Sounds good." He took a breath - trying to tamp down the excitement he was feeling - breaking into a place full of heros, AND possibly finding a way home?

One hell of a Christmas gift, for everyone involved.

#q'd #late reply #extremely long post #sorry this took so long #sailingmakai #we fight as one - second semester mv;#thought I'd make it a bit longer since I kept you waiting for so long #don't feel pressured to match the length of this! I just wanted to make up for the wait #I didn't mention it in the post but Aaron would be SO down for that Sonic watch party #Also I kinda pictured that whole thing taking place in Aaron's bedroom in Leblanc. Hope that was okay #The dark red cartridges are filled with his curse energy webs so he can use those if need be

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rebelrayne · 2 years ago

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These are fics I recommend to change your life (and your opinion) of all the LIs that were ranked with negative points with combined like and dislike votes! They are all amazing! Read them and prepare to love these least fave LIs! I dare you not to fall in love with them. Big thanks to @longbobmckenzie who helped out a lot with the recs and anything she recs is amazing, 100% so enjoy these!

In the recs, you will find fics for: Arjun, Bill, Ciaran, Elijah, Elisa, Felix, Harry, Ibrahim, Jakub, James, Mason and Tom.

fight for it (RATED M) by @queen-of-boops

Arjun has never had a normal life. He's spent his whole life running, his whole life avoiding others. Until he met Emma. But he has a secret, a secret he hopes she'll never find out.

golden thread (RATED T) by @starsarestars

Far away in a world of it's very own, tucked away in an affluent fashion quarter not too far from Bermondsey, is a place where designer heels and exorbitantly overpriced colognes supplied by a buxom Mancunian are a requirement. Verona Lane. It’s all about image first, personality later. The people there have mastered the art of keeping up appearances, even if it means renting the odd Lamborghini to pose outside your obscenely expensive bedsit in Penge with. Verona Lane is where this tale of deception, fashion and seriously questionable decisions begins

hey stupid, i love you (NOT RATED) by @sparxaf

A bit of fluff in which Bill faces an impossible choice. Five minute word prompt from the LITG FF writer Discord : Mayo Enjoy this lil bit of Bill love. He's a complicated character. I liked him, then I didn't, then I sort of did. Now I love him. He's a weirdo but he's also sweet. He deserves more fandom exposure.

the only two things (RATED E) by @mrsbsmooth

Based off a writing prompt (Fake Dating) allocated by the LITGWritersRoom on Tumblr. "Sophie". Kelly blurted out. "His girlfriend's name's Sophie. She's a friend of mine. And yeah, she's coming." Oh god. Kelly thought. She really hoped Sophie would be okay with this.

reap what you sow (RATED T) by @i-boop-you

It's the Stick or Twist recoupling, and Elijah is in for a shock. (Justice for Elijah is served)

clickbait (RATED M) by kiki_the_creator

Clicks are power, power is money, and Elisa can’t say no to money. Only her newest financial venture is proving far more stubborn than anticipated, and the clicks might not be worth the hassle. Until they start racking up, and up, and up, and she falls deeper and deeper, just for the ploy to begin falling apart in her hands.

heaven help a fool who falls in love (RATED T) by @crimswnred

When you're young and hurt, love feels so distant. A somber take on Felix.

mind games (RATED M) by @becangle

Felix arrives at Casa Amor ready to romance his dream girl.

choppy waters (RATED M) by @queen-of-boops

Harry and Piper won Love Island one year ago and it's been anything but smooth sailing.

how the turn tables (RATED E) by @crimswnred

Zoe and Harry have been in a couple for the most part of the season but it’s the first night the Hideaway is open...

superpower (RATED M) by constantrepeat

Through a desire to please and be a hero to those who mean most to him, Ibrahim's spent his entire life abiding to a stringent lifestyle that's left little room for play, let alone love. However, an invitation veers him off-course and into the world of Love Island, a shameless and saucy destination of romance and debauchery. Hoping to face his fears in order to find someone to share his life with, Ibrahim finds new power through the pursuit of love and the challenges it brings, in a high-stakes environment where everyone's looking to save themselves.

121°C (RATED T) by margotmuses

Jakub finds that maybe what he likes isn’t what he thought.

the other side (RATED T) by @rebelrayne

Was it really happening? He had to have been dreaming. He wasn’t big, rugged and buff like Hazeem. He couldn’t be cool and collected like Kobi. He’d never be as handsome as Dylan. There’s no way he could ever be charming or suave like Youcef… He was just… him?

the challenge (RATED T) by @thesepromises

Hope Adeniyi wants a promotion, and to do that, she needs to score an exclusive merchandising contract with boy band Seventh Heaven following a recent surge in their popularity. Lead singer Mason Knowles wants her to fail; but Hope always plays to win.

and the day after that, too (RATED T) by @/rebelrayne

In 2016, Summer had a whirlwind romance with a boy with a British accent. He wasn’t very smooth and he wasn’t the tallest guy around, but for those short three months, he was hers.

#litg rare LIs #litg arjun #litg bill #litg ciaran #litg elijah #litg elisa #litg felix #litg harry #litg ibrahim #litg jakub #litg james #litg mason #litg tom #navigation

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years ago

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Okay okay okay okay I need help with this please

Okay so while I agree Ro can be a jerk sometimes, I think there’s an underlying thing that causes her to treat people like that. Maybe it’s the way her dad treated her or how she was put into an arranged marriage. Maybe she sees that Keefe really loves Sophie and he isn’t being forced into something and Ro (though I don’t agree with her pushing) just wants keefe to be happy.

Another thing: While I love Ro so much and she’s the character I can relate to the most, she’s can be a jerk. I feel like her teasing is on the border of abuse.

I just thought it would be cool to get your opinion on this, I hope your doing well!

-Mossy

Thanks, Mossy! I am doing alright and hope you're doing well as well! As for Ro, I agree that there's more to her character than just being a jerk, and I've theorized about what it could be before, so excited to look at her again!

One of the things i think could be contributing to her being so unpleasant and pushy and making people uncomfortable is her situation. She's the only ogre (until Bo comes along) in the lost cities, and they don't like her. She's living in an actively hostile environment and expected to be diplomatic enough to make things work out for a possible future alliance on a larger scale. People are afraid of her and hate her and look down on her and want her gone 24/7, whenever they go anywhere. She doesn't want to be there (she said in unlocked she'd love to get out of sparkle town and take Keefe back to Ravagog), but it's her assignment.

So I don't think she has the freedom or comfort to be open or thoughtful or caring. She may be physically at an advantage over elves, but she's only allowed to attack a select number of elves. And she does not have a social advantage over them; elves can talk shit and gossip and spread rumors and anything she does is going to take a lot more work on her part. She's at a disadvantage where she is so she's defensive. She'd unpleasant. She makes threats and is pushy, because making elves uncomfortable in conversation is a show of social strength. It's a way for her to say "you may have the advantage but I can do damage, too." it's protection for her.

But! Then she becomes more incorporated and accustomed to the elves she hangs out with. She's still rude and a jerk to elves she doesn't know, but she's been with the kotlcrew long enough that they know not to mess with her and she knows that some of them value her and don't look down on her. So she's more of a deadly calm instead of an explosive one.

However, that begs the question of why she's still so involved and pushy with Keefe and Sophie's relationship if she's not intentionally making them uncomfortable as a show of power, like she did in the Healing Center in Nightfall. There's a plethora of possible reasons, including but not limited to: she's upset over her own arranged marriage, she's trying to protect Keefe emotionally, ogre customs being blunt and she doesn't like how circuitous their relationship is, she finds romance drama entertaining and wants to meddle, to she straight up doesn't realize she's being a jerk.

We know she doesn't like her husband and is always arguing with him but can't get a divorce for political reasons. We know she's very loud and to the point, constantly talking about things as they are, so perhaps seeing how unspoken Keefe's affection for Sophie is is weird and wrong to her and she's trying to get him to change it.

I think there's also just a large part of her that finds it fun. Everyone has things they like and dislike, and I think Sophie and Keefe's relationship is interesting and entertaining for her. Here are two kids, one of which has been crushing hard on the other for years while trying not to tell her, the other convincing herself no one likes her like that and crushing on the first one's best friend. it's straight out of a story...because it is. It's fun for her! And she doesn't care if she's pushy because she already knows the elves don't really like her. So maybe she doesn't realize she's pushing it to far because she's so used to elves countering her for bad reasons that she doesn't realize Sophie and Keefe's discomfort isn't like that and she really is pushing boundaries she shouldn't. Elves have set the precedent of always rejecting her no matter what, so she's come to the conclusion that they aren't good judges. So if Sophie and Keefe try and tell her to stop? They're just being like normal elves and Ro's got no reason to believe it's any different than the other times ogres are shut down.

Those are possible in-canon reasons at least.

There's also the external factors, like Shannon using Ro as an instigator for a lot of moments, finally bringing the love triangle more into discussion instead of hinted at in the background. She's bold and talks about the things none of the love triangle characters will, so a part of her was likely modeled with the express intention of getting her involved so things would happen. Given how the love triangle was progressing, it may have stayed quiet for several more years without her constantly bringing it up and the series doesn't have that kind of time. It was with her prodding that it became more central, though it did go a bit overboard.

any mention of the love triangle was fleeting in the first five books, but they've become more and more frequent since Ro was introduced. She fills the role no one else did in the story and enables her to actually tell the story of Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe. So Ro is like a tool for Shannon to use to get to places the other characters weren't willing to go.

Ro can definitely be overly pushy to the point of creepy at times. Getting in involved in and making comments about Sophie, Keefe, and Fitz's love lives is not great and I'd prefer it if she didn't, but otherwise I love her quite a bit as her own character. It's her involvement in the love triangle that's weird, not her. If she was more independent and had more purpose outside of spurring the love triangle drama she'd be a lot less frustrating and uncomfortable to read about.

#this is just what I think the reasons are for how she acts #you are more than welcome to explore the ideas about how her father treats her and how she wants keefe to be happy #I just personally don't think that was the intended reason behind her actions #but hey ro is opening up more so maybe as she does that I'll find out I'm way off on this #but for now I think it's mainly a combination of shannon needing a certain kind of character to fill a role and ro being out of place #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #quil's queries #mossy nonsie #kotlc ro #kotlc character analysis #long post

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wof-reworked · 3 years ago

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open invitation to talk about qinterwatcher? should've been our canon ot3 if tui wasn't a coward /hj

*crashing through the door* FUCK YEAH QINTERWATCHER HOURS, I'VE BREACHED CONTAINMENT BABEYYY

I used to think of Qinterwatcher as a bit of a cop-out (fandom has this weird tendency to create polyam ships not for the chemistry of the characters but just to avoid actually committing to a ship, with the added level of esp. when it's two male chars/one female char because they've heard or came to the conclusion that "ignoring female characters for mlm ships is bad" but still really ship the two men so just chuck her in there to feel better about it), but I kept thinking about it and I feel like the dynamic is incomplete without Moon???

Qinter was my first big ship in wings of fire, and I love it dearly and think it stands well on its own two feet tbh. Sometimes though I feel like Qinter works better in fanon that it does drawing strictly off canon??? Like Qibli and Winter have this sort of uncomfortable vibe sometimes of both of them hitting the other a little too close to home/both of them hurting the other person without realizing it. Moon feels like a needed middle ground of that, she sort of softens both of them in necessary ways that mean they can actually function as a unit and in return they take care of her too

Also like idk Moon deserves to get two boyfriends too !! like I talk shit abt her but like I think her and Qibli's dynamic is really sweet, and I think her and Winter, if Winter sorted out his shit, could have a really good dynamic as well. They were written to be in a love triangle, the writing for Moon/Qibli and Moon/Winter is already there. Like they hype her up so intensely and care abt her so much, they don't work with her individually but as a unit they work great.

Anyway I just think they work together so nicely !!! A little layered cake of dragons who love each other !!!! I just feel like their dynamic is two of them ganging up on the other to destroy them, either with love or with cruel mischief. I just think each combination of this ship works well and together they become one unstoppable unit. It's 3 dragons who have needed love piling it onto each other in spades because they don't want them to feel unloved ever again man ;0;

And like canonically they all admire the others so much,,,, I can't describe it any other way other than that scene in Howl's moving castle where they're in the flowers and Sophie describes herself as plain/ugly and without hesitation he's like "-But Sophie, you're beautiful," or w/e, like that specific brand of bewilderment, not trying to appease her or disagree with her but being completely taken aback that she even thinks that because it's so fundamentally wrong to him, like the reaction of someone being told gravity isn't real or the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. Like Sophie being beautiful is one of the core rules of reality. That's the Qinterwatcher dynamic babey !!!! Each of them has such a strange perception of themselves that is so entirely at odds with how the others perceive them, and they're just constantly cycling out who's Howl and who's Sophie.

But they also bring each other down to earth too !! None of them are like- scared of the others, if that makes sense?? Like part of what bugs me abt Cleril is the weird power dynamics at play- Clay is scared that if he does something wrong, Peril will do something dangerous (Winterwatcher also treads this line too tbh, again they'd have to sort this out for this ship to work, including in the context of Qinterwatcher). But like- Qibli has never been afraid to tell Winter his true feelings/thoughts, and vice versa. The same goes for Moon/Qibli too for that matter, heck, that's the whole resolution of darkness of dragons is Moon going "lol are you serious, no you're not a bad person you idiot" while Qibli looks guilty. And I think Moon does call out Winter when it's needed, like she's not some innocent wilting flower, she will defend herself and Winter needs that reminder that his actions have consequences and he's not actually that cool or better than anyone else. They check each other so well, and again that's why they need the others! Qibli and Moon together are able to tell off Winter, Qibli and Winter understand Moon/her problems, and Winter/Moon both stop Qibli from spiraling into himself. A necessary balancing act !!!

I just also can't stop picturing them sharing their interests with each other too like none of these dragons are neurotypical I'm sorry you'd better believe Winter and Qibli are there with Moon in the library reading a million weird old scrolls and having a competition on who can find the funniest, or Qibli and Moon bringing Winter food for his scavengers and providing what information they know.

#qinterwatcher #be careful what invitations you give me I can and will use them lmao #wings of fire #wof #qibli #qibli wof #winter wof #moonwatcher #moonwatcher wof

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sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years ago

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Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal#ppascaledit #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfic #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x oc reader

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years ago

Text

Not a Summer Crush Part Five

a/n: i haven't been doing this on purpose, but i keep alternating, long chapter followed by short chapter. i think the longest is 6k words and this one is 2.5k-ish, my apologies for its shortness. but!! this one has everyone's favorite Rita Calhoun, jealousy, Serena Southerlyn's meddling tactics, middle school, and even graduate school. enjoy, and remember any feedback is appreciated more than you all could ever know.

Part Five

When Alex got home from work that evening, she finally had a moment to process that day’s moment on the courthouse steps. She texted Serena, trying to fit all the pieces together in her head.

Alex: What the hell?

Serena: ?

Alex: Serena!

Serena: Yes?

She gave up on coherent texting and decided to call her friend instead.

---

Casey was confusing herself again. Having second thoughts was not how she would put it. No, she was still sure of what she wanted (as sure as she was going to be, doing something very new and all), it was the methods that were bothering her. Namely, that she felt like she had none.

Alex had been difficult early on. The beginning was, in most respects, the most difficult time of their relationship. They had both been in rough patches, trying to be different people than they’d been before, and Casey thought, hoped, they’d both been successful. Alex had found a sense of balance and justice that guided her to powerful places. And Casey could look around her life and point lots of little things out: the tennis racquet beside her softball bat, their well-stocked kitchen, the literary journals lined up in a row on her bookshelf, little markers of stability and self-assuredness that reminded her how she’d changed and stayed the same over the years. She hadn’t felt this untethered since she kissed Alex for the first time.

“Casey, it’s called having a crush,” Rita said after she explained herself over a scotch.

---

“What’s going on, Alex?” Serena’s voice came over the speakerphone as Alex set it down on the countertop.

“Do you want to tell me why you asked my second chair out on the courthouse steps in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday?”

Serena laughed at her. “I don’t think I did,” she said.

“Hey, Caroline,” Alex mocked Serena’s slightly husky voice, “Won’t you please reserve me a spot on your dance card this weekend?” She said as she popped the cork out of a bottle of wine with an angry pop as punctuation.

“I don’t talk like that,” Serena said. “And all I did was tell her I wanted to dance, I don’t think I asked her for anything, in fact.”

“I don’t remember it like that.”

“So it’s on your mind, huh.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god.” Alex thought of what to say as she sipped.

“I mean,” Serena filled the silence, “If you aren’t going to, I will, you know?”

“Serena!” Alex all but yelled into the phone.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, “that’s what I thought.” She paused for a moment, then said, “I wasn’t

asking her out, I was giving you a reason to go dancing with her again.

“I don’t follow.”

“Sure you don’t. Look, I’ll make a groupchat with you, Casey, me and Caroline, and make plans in there, thus implying that all of us are going. It’s simple.”

“What?” Alex asked, actually not following her friend at this point.

“Just let it happen, Lex. Where is Casey, anyway?”

Alex swirled her wine around. “Rita absconded with her after work today. She said it was something about a case.”

“I don’t think they’re opposing one another on anything right now,” Serena said.

“I’ve learned not to ask questions,” Alex said, referencing the schemes Rita and her wife liked to pull occasionally. Then, realizing what she might be implying, she said, “Remember Sophie’s birthday last year?” and was answered with Serena’s light laugh from the other end of the call.

---

Casey’s eyes widened. “Yeah, I guess so.” Rita was surprised that Casey didn’t fight her on it. She decided to push.

“So, when are you going to ask her out?” Casey looked at her.

“We haven’t like, set a date,” she said. “Do people usually set dates for that kind of thing?

“They usually have a plan of some kind, I think. I mean, I do.”

Rita’s phone buzzed three times, two texts and a photo from Pippa. She didn’t hide her nerves fast enough for Casey to miss it. She shot her friend a look over her glass, saying, “you have a plan, right?”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Stop deflecting.” This time it was Casey’s turn to get the notifications.

New Groupchat (4)

Serena: So, Saturday night, right? Where?

Caroline: Why don’t you meet me at my apartment? The place is kind of hard to find.

Serena: Works for me. Alex? Casey?

Casey had no idea what the texts were about, suspected Serena of some kind of scheme.

Casey: Sure? But what are we doing?

Serena: Dancing!

Caroline: Dancing. Ashley’s on the road so I needed another partner.

Alex: We’re going dancing on Saturday.

Casey looked up from her phone to find an expectant Rita looking at her. “Apparently, I’m going dancing on Saturday.

“With Caroline?”

“And Alex. And Serena.”

Rita smiled wryly. “Good luck.”

---

“Okay, okay, order, order,” you said quieting the room of middle schoolers at the end of practice. “Remember, I can’t be there with you this weekend at the competition, and I have to leave early tonight,” you said, to a chorus of sighs, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But you’ll all do great, I know it. Listen to your teachers, stick to your plans, and do your best.” The adoring eyes of the team were all on you. “And, if you win, I’ll buy you pizza. Deal?”

Nothing motivates tweens like a pizza party, but you weren’t worried about their performance. If nothing else, you knew Ophélie was a zealous team captain, putting it delicately. She had learned to be persistent from you, which was great at a competition, more annoying when she had chores. You gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek as you said goodbye to the team, despite her “no affection in public rule” (because the nature of the adolescent is to be embarrassed), and sent a text to Casey letting her know you’d be out soon.

When you saw her waiting for you outside the school building, your heart skipped a beat. It was that same feeling that you’d felt when Alex was in your apartment-- an intimacy that should’ve felt unusual, out of place, instead felt perfectly natural and comfortable. You hugged in greeting, grateful that you’d all decided that would be acceptable affection for colleagues.

“You know,” you said, “You really didn’t have to come meet me here.” Casey shrugged.

“I wanted to. Nice sweater,” she said, teasing you. It was one of those summer evenings where the sunset had brought a cool breeze with it, and you’d stolen one of Ophélie’s uniform cardigans. It was simple and navy blue, but the school logo embroidered on the breast gave it away. The two of you walked together towards the nearest subway station.

“Thanks,” you said, in an unserious tone. “Where’s Alex?”

“She’s already at the bar,” Casey replied, “I was told to retrieve you before the announcement.”

“It can’t be any big surprise,” you said, wondering. “She’s been agonizing over these applications forever.”

“She’s Gillian. She agonizes.” You looked up at the buildings, lights beginning to come on in the apartment buildings and off in the offices. Casey looked at your lifted head and the way it created a line, sloping and elegant, jawline to neck to collarbone. She pushed one palm with the opposite thumb and bit her lip, thinking about her conversation with Rita. She was right, they needed a plan, or one of these days she was going to kiss you without thinking.

Your voice snapped her out of it, but she didn’t hear what you said. “Casey?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you were excited to come dancing again this weekend.” The two of you walked down the stairs to the subway station, you in front, looking over your shoulder as Casey answered you.

“Oh! Yes, I definitely am. I didn’t know that Serena could dance, Alex told me it was her idea.”

“Apparently she studied abroad. I’m glad she asked, though.” That gave the knot of jealousy in Casey’s stomach a tug. She had no right to be jealous, but she couldn’t help but feel it. Serena is beautiful, and single, she doesn’t work with them, she’s super smart and funny, and apparently she knows how to dance.

“I’m glad we’ll have enough people to switch up partners a couple times,” Casey said, assuaging the jealousy.

“That’s the best part,” you agreed.

---

You made it to the table just in time to hear the announcement.

The third announcement. It would appear that Rita had somehow gotten ahold on all of Gillian’s acceptance letters and was withholding them from the rest of the group (except, of course, for the honoree herself, who was happy to go along with the plan, not that she had much of a choice). Glasses were raised and congratulations expressed as Rita said, “the third acceptance is… Yale!”

Polite applause came around the table. Gillian smiled bashfully as everyone told her how proud they were. Of all of you, she was the only person smart enough (or crazy enough) to go back to school after navigating the complex legal world of New York City.

“Which ones did we miss?” Casey said as the two of you slid into the two open seats.

“She got into Columbia,” Serena said, “which means she could stay in Manhattan. A few glasses around the table were raised again, encouraging her to stay close.

“And Stanford,” Alex added. You shot Gillian an excited look, happy at the mention of your alma mater.

“How many more letters are there?” You asked. Rita checked the pile of envelopes in her hand.

“Two.”

As soon as Sophie noticed that neither you nor Casey yet had a drink, there were whiskeys in your hands. As soon as Serena remembered that you were returning from coaching a mock trial team, and remembering what she knew of Casey’s feelings about kids, she began to ask you questions. How was the team, what case are they presenting, do they love you, (truly who wouldn’t). She was almost tiring you out.

“Is she always this persistent?” you asked Alex, smiling at Serena as you did so. You had to know if your eyes were deceiving you, your wishful thinking getting the best of your powers of observation yesterday when you saw her jealous look.

You were correct.

Almost faster than could be perceived, Alex’s eyes narrowed, looking into Serena’s, not yours; as if to say what the hell are you doing. Raised shoulders, her fingers pressing slightly into the table, her tongue in the back of her throat: you’d seen enough jealous boyfriends (of women you were about to dance with, if you’re honest) in clubs to know what it looked like.

Well. That was going to be good information to have at your disposal. If nothing else, for

confirmation: that you weren’t crazy, that there was something there to notice, from both of them.

---

You would’ve considered your offer of your apartment more thoroughly had you initially understood that there would be four of you going out that Saturday night. You weren’t sure, at first, if Serena had been asking you out. Honestly, you would probably not turn her down if she did. It would certainly be a simpler path to take, and there was no denying that Serena was beautiful and smart. Of course, your affections were otherwise engaged.

But, since she had invited Casey and Alex along, you considered it more likely that she was “creating some amount of opportunity,” (a real thing you’d really heard her say once) than making a double date. It would make sense, you thought, if Alex had told her how she was feeling; and the more days that went by, the more little tender interactions, the more often you noticed her resting her eyes in your direction, the more confident you were that you weren’t making up the chemistry.

Casey was a little harder to read, but you had noticed she’d seemed slightly… preoccupied the last few times you’d been alone together. One thing you knew: their marriage was rock solid. Neither of them would do something without the others’ approval. You could only hope they had a plan. You didn’t-- unless trying to seem as desirable yet appropriate as possible could be considered a plan.

There were four people in your apartment. You couldn’t remember the last time you had people over to your place rather than Ashley and Ramin’s, so it felt especially cramped. You were each drinking a glass of wine (from Ramin’s fancy stash, you were not going to let them know just yet that the only wine you bought was two buck chuck), you and Serena were sitting on the barstools at your counter while Alex and Casey sat on the couch. You had your music collection on shuffle, which led to a few laughs at the funny combinations.

It was your turn to feel jealous, or maybe to yearn. You hoped that one of them would see the new collection of books sitting on your table: Marriage and Other Alternatives, More Than Two, and What Love Is (and what it could be). A quiet buzz of anticipation (or was it the wine?) pleasantly lodged itself in your mind as the four of you slung your bags over your shoulders and headed out for the night.

---

Pippa Cox touched her lipstick up in the mirror before returning to the table she was (finally) sharing with Rita Calhoun. For such a smart woman, Pippa had often thought, Rita was prone to running from her feelings. Having gotten her on this date was a feat indeed, even though she knew (the glances, the blushing, the way she would drift into her space, natural as anything) that they shared feelings. As Pippa sat down, Rita smiled.

Unfortunately, as Rita reached for her glass, her phone buzzed in her purse. She shrugged-- what was the point of texting when she was on a date? If it was a client, they would call her secretary who would call her. No need to fret.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure,” she said, reaching across the table to take Pippa’s hand in her own. She knew how difficult it had been for her to get back into dating, to trust anyone with her heart, which was part of why she had been so apprehensive to pursue her even though the attraction was there. She’d pinched herself when Pippa had been the one to ask, happy to be the pursued for once.

“Good,” Pippa said, “because I want you to myself tonight.” Rita nodded, bit her lip, and smiled. There was another buzz, then another, then another. Three in a row? The only people she knew who texted like that were Casey and Serena, both of whom had plans tonight.

Plans together, with Alex. Involving Caroline. She sighed, hoping that she wasn’t about to do something to hurt Pippa’s feelings. Pippa, to her credit, looked curiously at Rita’s bag as she opened it.

Notifications: 4 new messages.

Serena: This experience is simultaneously adorable and infuriating.

Serena sent a photo.

Serena sent a video.

Serena: I’m tempted to leave and let them figure it out.

Rita laughed to herself. The picture was a selfie of you four sitting at a booth, you and Alex on one side and Casey and Serena on the other. Serena had her head leaned on Casey’s shoulder, who looking across the table, while you were pressing a kiss to Alex’s cheek. Alex had a contented smile, and your table had evidence of more than a couple drinks for each of you. The video was one of you and Alex. You were holding one of her hands with the other wrapped around her waist. Alex looked terrified, poor thing, every body part was flying in the opposite direction. The sounds of Casey and Serena encouraging you both mixed with the horns and drums coming from the stage. Rita agreed with Serena, it was adorable and infuriating.

Rita: Well, that’s cute and maddening for sure.

Serena: I’ll send updates.

Rita: Tomorrow. Please don’t interrupt *my* date again, thank you.

Serena: OMG did she finally ask you out!?!??

Rita: TOMORROW.

Rita put her phone down, answering Pippa’s curious look with a wave of her hand. “Serena drama,” she said, and Pippa gave an understanding nod. “I made her promise to leave me alone for a while.” Pippa leant across the table and pecked Rita’s lips.

“Good.”

---

tags: @addictedtodinosaurs @nocreditinthestraightworld @cmmndrwidw @hi-i-1 @lesbianologist

#There you have it folks #maybe one day this will be finished #svu fanfic #law and order svu #not a summer crush #Serena southerlyn #Rita Calhoun #casey Novak #Alex cabot #Calex #Alex cabot x reader #casey Novak x reader #Alex cabot x casey Novak x reader #“Serena drama” ok Rita #god this was hard to write I don’t even know why #forgive typos #no beta we die like men

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three-gulons-in-a-trenchcoat · 4 years ago

Text

We Gon' Burn The Whole House Down

words: 1.4k

[Notes: ahhhh it's finally completed! this was actually a prompt I started first, forgot about it, lost motivation, and eventually came back too heh. I am proud of this one though]

Also: I would recommend listening to this song while reading this since it's what the story, as well as the title, is based on. For mobile users, or if the link isn't working, listen to Burn the House Down by AJR thanks!

*This Story Contains Spoilers For Unlocked*

“Keefe was right, you really haven’t decorated your room much.” Sophie glanced up from where she was rubbing Iggy's belly, the small (now blue and green) fluffball letting out a whine of dissatisfaction at her retreating fingers. “I guess I’ve just never had much time to decorate,” she sighed. Tam shrugged,” I guess I can’t complain, my room at Teirgans isn’t that decorated either.” He stared at the papers framed around the room, Keefe had gotten into the habit of giving his friends old pages from his sketchbooks, insisting that they were useless to him in his quest to find memories about his mom. His gaze lingered on a drawing of Luna and Silveny, curled up in the grass together. The mama alicorns head rested on top of her baby’s, both of their eyes closed as they dozed. Currently, the two alicorns were playing in the pastures with his sister. He was sure Wynn and Greyfell were there too.

Faint chatter echoed downstairs. The collective had gathered in Havenfield for another meeting. They've been having a lot of them lately.

Ever since Keefe left.

Sophie cleared her throat, looking away from the pictures. Her body felt heavy.

Tam seemed to notice her discomfort, and he turned to her, his eyes softening, “I’m sure he's alright.” He murmured.

Sophie resumed her scratching, Iggy's grumbling purrs filling the room, “I hope so.” she whispered.

The silence stretched on for a moment before Tam cleared his throat,“ This is a bit awkward isn't it?” he asked.

Sophie looked up, “What do you mean?”

Tam huffed slightly, and Sophie noticed how he shifted in the same spot, so she patted the bed. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down.

“I mean, I know we’re friends, but….” He trailed off.

Sophie understood, “I guess I haven’t been the best at including you and Linh huh?” she said.

It felt weird, she knew Tam, and she knew they both considered each other friends but, they barely talked to each other outside of Blackswan stuff, or when all of them were hanging out together.

Tam was only up here because he asked to see Keefe's artwork.

Tam nodded, “It’s partially my fault,” he grimaced, “If I hadn't joined with the Neverse-”

“Don’t say that.” Sophie said firmly, her eyes meeting his, “We all know it wasn’t your fault.”

Sophie knew he didn’t believe her. His eyes betrayed him. Unfortunately, she knew that guilt all too well.

The silence was back, and thicker than it was before.

“Have you ever listened to music?” Sophie found herself blurting. Her face ran hot, wishing she could take the words back. Of course, he could you idiot, her mind reprimanded, his family literally does that for a living.

Tam opened his mouth.

“Human music,” Sophie added quickly.

Tams mouth closed, “No, I haven't.”

“Do you want to?” Sophie offered.

Tam cocked his head, his eyes skittered around the room, “How?” he asked dumbly.

Sophie sat up, walking over to her dresser. She crouched down, reaching into the bottom drawer. It's not like it was illegal to have human items, In fact, the collective and Councilor Terik knew she had kept some human things with her when she came to the Lost Cities, but you could never be too sure.

She withdrew, holding her iPod and some earphones, “With these.”

Tam blinked as she walked back over, sitting down and plugging the earphones into the jack. He stared at the iPod curiously as Sophie turned it on.

“It’s human obviously,” Sophie explained, tapping the screen and opening her music. She smiled softly, it had been so long since she had listened to any of her songs.

“Are they human artists?” Tam asked, peering over her shoulder to look at the screen.

Sophie nodded, “A lot of human music is stored in this app so that people can listen to it from anywhere.”

Tam's eyes flashed with understanding, and Sophie handed him an earbud. He stared at it.

Sophie giggled slightly, pointing to her ear, “In here.”

The tips of his ears turned slightly red, and he looked down, “Right.” he mumbled sheepishly, placing the earbud in his ear slowly.

Sophie scrolled to her most recent playlist (recent meaning a couple of years Ago) and clicked on her most recent play.

She had only found this band when she was bored and homesick, scrolling through her recommended.

The song started almost immediately, and Tam’s brow furrowed, trying to understand the language.

Used to keep it cool

Used to be a fool

All about the bounce in my step

“It's in a human language,” Sophie explained.

Watch it on the news

Whatcha gonna do?

I could hit refresh and forget

Trumpets started in the background, following the beat of the song, and Tam relaxed slightly, “That kinda sounds like one of the instruments my mother uses.”

Granted, Sophie could understand the lyrics just fine, but she knew Tam couldn't. Even so, he seemed to like the beat as the song progressed, and she smiled lightly when she saw his head bobbing along with the music.

She noticed the song fading slightly, and her mood lightened, she had always been a fan of beat drops in songs, especially these ones.

…..Is that right?

The trumpets sang faster as the tempo picked up, and Tam's eyebrows raised slightly.

Lose

Mind

The beat dropped, and Tam's mouth gaped slightly. Sophie laughed softly at his expression. She had to admit when she had first listened to it, she had a pretty similar reaction. There was something about the distant drums and the background bass that really tied the whole song together.

We gon' burn the whole house down

Tam smiled, glancing up at Sophie, “What are they saying?” He asked, and Sophie noticed his foot tapping her carpet to the rhythm as well.

Sophie quoted the lyrics as they faded out, “We gon' burn the whole house down.”

Tam snickered, “Are humans a bunch of arsonists or something?”

Sophie laughed, “Some maybe, but these lyrics have a different meaning I think.”

Tam glanced down at the iPod, which was flashing lyrics, but not in a language he could understand.

Sophie was no singer, but she did want Tam to understand the song, so without meaning too, she began to quote the song as it continued.

“…Gawking at the tricks up your sleeve,” She said it quietly, and Tam looked up

“Are those the lyrics?” He asked.

Sophie nodded, continuing, “Too good to be true, But I'm in a room, Full of entertainers and thieves, Used to let it go.”

The trumpets picked up again, and Tam must have realized that the beat was about to drop again because he followed Sophie’s words slowly.

“Woah no,” Sophie smiled, moving her head in time with the lyrics as Tam copied her.

The two had turned to face each other, with Tam slowly mouthing the lyrics (A little bit off time-wise, but Sophie didn't blame him) And Sophie nodding along.

“Way up way up we go, been up and down that road, way up way up oh no,-” Sophie started.

“We gon' burn the whole house down.” A large grin broke out on Tam’s face, and Sophie found herself smiling with him. She had never heard him sing before, and it sounded nice. His voice was smooth and drifted slowly, almost like he was whispering the words instead of singing them.

They finished the song like that, with Tam slowly learning the repeating lyrics and timing and Sophie helping him out occasionally.

The song finished loudly, with the beat dropping one last time as the riff slowly faded out.

The grin stayed on Tam's face as he glanced back at the iPod.

“That was…nice.” He murmured, and Sophie gazed at him.

“I listen to human music sometimes, when I want to remember my old home.” Sophie said, looking down at the iPod, “Dex fixed it up so it's powered by sunlight too,”

Tam nodded, and he glanced back up, looking sheepish, “Are there maybe..more songs by them?”

“AJR?” Sophie questioned.

“Is that what they're called?” Tam asked, then nodded quickly, “Yeah, them.”

Sophie smiled, clicking right below the song and opening up the band's full list, her eyes widened slightly, “There are more since I last listened to them.” She said.

“How many?” Tam asked, leaning over.

“About 60.” She murmured.

Tam shrugged, and then he smirked, “Can we listen to all of them?”

Sophie smiled back, laughing slightly, “Sure.”

#sotam #sotam platonic #sophie foster #tam song #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #unlocked spoilers #ask #ask me anything #prompts #writing prompts #kotlcfanfic #kotlc fanfiction

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prionguy-old · 4 years ago

Text

hello enderwalk arg people

so i saw a cool thread from @/ranbeans on twitter and it inspired me. so naturally i spent five hours straight analyzing ranboo’s lore playlist

basically i think it’s a timeline of c!ranboo’s life, and it fits kind of eerily

everything’s below the cut (and it’s a lot) :]

prologue from starkid

- more clock references. it’s literally just an instrumental of a clock ticking

- instantly you think of the ender text in that pic he tweeted. like that, this could relate to dream’s clock, or foolish’s clock (reading 10:33 always iirc)

- note that butler in tales from the smp: masquerade kept staring at a clock

- it could also mean a theme of running out of time, or fighting with time

- in the thread i linked, the person also points out that there are 23 clock ticks in prologue, and angel number 23 means that you are meant to be a servant

- this would be his beginning

introduction to the snow by miracle musical

- the first of many songs from the hawaii: part ii album on this playlist

- i’ve seen that album described as an arg and i find it funny if ranboo just went no. my arg now

- introduction to the snow only has one verse, and the rest is instrumental

- the whole hawaii album has themes of loneliness and death, especially loneliness for this song

- it talks about feeling isolated, which gives hints about his childhood maybe?

- the “you’ll live forever tonight” lyric also gives off a hopeful vibe, like that of a child

dream sweet in sea major by miracle musical

- starts with a changed reprise of introduction to the snow

- "Rather than trying to “live forever”, it seems that the time has come for something else" from the analysis of the first part in genius

- odd because this song is meant as a finale to the album, but it's towards the beginning of the playlist (could mean that there was almost an ending of sorts early on for c!ranboo, like a near death experience?)

turn the lights off by tally hall

- okay this one confused me when i was first going through, but when the timeline started coming together it made more sense

- about adolescence, and being uncomfortable with growing up, so it fits with the timeline playlist theory

- also about phobias and stuff like that in a way?? hm

the mind electric by miracle musical

- the song starts out in reverse, then plays the stuff from the beginning normally

- feels like a rls honestly i wish he could use this song

- it's about someone put in an infirmary and condemned to electroshock therapy because they're insane. fun

- this is where the timeline started to come together in a way. as soon as i saw the mood get darker i remembered ranboo’s line from the festival i think? “don’t let it happen again” or something like that

- because of this, if the timeline theory is true, at some point before he joined the dream smp he did something which caused him to be condemned

- also this

- the mind electric isn’t the only song where the narrator glorifies themself in a way, we’ll get into this later

- also the rejecting fanatical views,, i am thinking about that theory that endermen are servants to the ender dragon. if c!ranboo rejected that, the consequences could have been awful

live and let die by paul mccartney

- if i wasn’t sold on the timeline theory before, i am now. after the mind electric, the mood changes drastically in terms of ideology and theme

- this specifically made me say “holy shit” because like. that verse means that when you’re young, you’re open minded and say “live and let live” which resembles the optimistic but lonely attitude of the beginning of the playlist

- but then when the world fucks you over, you begin to say “live and let die.”

- “live and let die” i take to mean as him no longer caring about the people around him. how before, he wanted to help others, but then the mind electric happened, and he just. stopped caring

- fun right!! /s

ruler of everything by tally hall

- there are so many clock and time references in this. we get it

- "mechanical hands" when it says “mechanical hands are the ruler of everything” refer to hands on a clock, saying how time rules over everything

- the narrator is talking back and forth with time itself in this, which is interesting because i believe he joins the dream smp in the next song

- the narrator appears very insecure and looking for a quick way to appeal to everyone (like how c!ranboo at the beginning was trying to be everyone's friend)

- this is the second song with the narrator glorifying themself out of insecurity. what are you trying to tell us about your character buddy

- also we can’t ignore this shit

- i don’t need to explain why this scared me right. right

merry go round of life from howl’s moving castle

- this is a change huh

- god i haven’t seen this movie in years, but i saw looking it up that it plays at the beginning introducing the main character, sophie

- this is before everything changed for her

- maybe this is when he joins dream smp? and ruler of everything is him talking to dream prior?

- or maybe im reaching who the fuck knows

- but him joining dream smp to this song would make sense. it feels like a clean slate and starting over, which would match with how he doesn’t. y’know. remember things

- which begs the question: if ranboo forgot everything from before this song in the timeline, and after that i’m assuming his memory issues started,, what happened to cause this?

- i’d say the mind electric could have caused this, but it was awhile back in the playlist. so whoever he’s talking to in ruler of everything, which could very well be dream, i believe messed with his memory somehow.

killer queen by queen

- c!ranboo girlboss arc canon??

- i got lost here ngl. it has a very specific vibe that doesn’t match well with what i know of c!ranboo im sorry

- but two songs later, i get a hint kind of which makes me believe this could be him burning george’s house with tommy

- also this song is a banger and i’m pretty sure he put it on there to scare the crown arg people because of the “baroness” line /j

mr. bad guy by freddie mercury

- literally just more funky villain vibes. i love this

- no more angst only girlboss

- since cc!ranboo has said he doesn't want to do a villain arc, i take this to maybe be how he sees himself?? credit to the crown arg discord for that idea they’re smart and cool

- if that is true, i’d say this would be another song for the “glorifying oneself out of insecurity” list because the narrator is like. seeing himself as cool and The Bad Guy, even if he might not be

- possibly the butcher army if the next song is what i think it is

ain’t no rest for the wicked by cage the elephant

- i have been informed someone saw ranboo listening to and grabbing songs for this off of a playlist called "my villain arc" king i hate you /lh

- in seriousness: the song is about how the world forces people into wicked roles for money. i am getting live and let die vibes, like how both blame the world for making them not care/do bad things

- c!ranboo take responsibility for your actions challenge /j

- this definitely reminds me of how when he gave techno his armor, he blamed it on peer pressure. if this aligns with that event, the last two would be burning george’s house and butcher army i think

i can’t decide by the scissor sisters

- this is probably about enderwalk

- i really hope it's about enderwalk

- did mr ranboo commit murder?? manslaughter?? sir

- i really feel like this is enderwalk or ive forgotten something

stardust crusaders from jjba

- thank god for jjba fans, i know nothing about this

- apparently this is the main theme for jotaro, who's power i think?? is like moving faster than time

- and his main villain thing is dio, who's power is stopping the flow of time

- and we're back with the fuckin time references

- this is pure speculation at this point, but maybe it’s like. him fighting against time in a way, which would draw back to ruler of everything

a mask of my own face by lemon demon

- the song is about not wanting to take responsibility for their actions again

- c!ranboo i am begging

- specifically this lyric

- also this lyric draws back to the bidding, in which the singer wanted to be enough for someone and showed almost narcissism as a sort of "mask"

- also just. mask can be correlated with dream or the masquerade, where the butler stared at the clocks

stranded lullaby by miracle musical

- been awhile since we had a hawaii album song huh

- and,, a memory reference.

- that lyric is talking about forgetting things

- the rest of the song is,, im not saying time traveler ranboo but time traveler ranboo (look at this post about that theory by my friend pspspspsp)

- he's talking to a "you" this whole time, and i have no idea who it is lmao

- there are mentions of dreams and stuff throughout, so i almost want to associate it with the prison visit, but then i think the next song is after the festival so i guess not?

- might also be him losing the memory book

hidden in the sand by tally hall

- this is, lyrics wise, a song about a man whose girlfriend left him for someone else and he's upset

- but if you look at the music video, it shows a cruise ship, on which people are friendly with each other at first, but when it starts to sink, they turn on each other trying to escape

- i am feeling a connection to c!ranboo's views on "choose people not sides" somehow

- i feel like he's called people selfish in lore, but my friends and i are all ranboo kinnies so we cant fuckin remember. if he has, then yeaH this definitely correlates

now i’m here by queen

- there's a very optimistic and nostalgic tone to this

- this one’s barely annotated on genius so i don’t have a lot for it, but i feel like it's after the dream voice disappeared or something? timeline's gettin a little funky

- it could also be right before the festival, as he used optimism as a shield there

& by tally hall

- this. yeah. & deals with opposites, especially good and evil. the singer talks about how everyone sees the world from their own perspective and doesn't look from another

- and that definitely ties back to how ranboo wanted l’manburg people, like tubbo, to see from techno’s perspective

- i feel like this is right after the festival. it resembles a lot of ranboo's speech from then, where he basically told everyone “sides dumb. just vibe”

- and then the outro changes tone, almost like a warning?? which. yeah. a warning to choose people not sides before doomsday, or else they won’t be able to stop l’manburg from being blown up

i’m gonna win by rob cantor

- this song is about someone fighting their inner demons

- sounds familiar!! looks directly at dream voice

- specifically, the singer is optimistic about winning their fight with the inner demons

- it seems kind of chilling to me though, but it's also late at night when i’m doing these notes so it may just be me

- if the timeline theory is true, this is where c!ranboo is mentally atm, which tracks honestly

=), an unplayable track

- ranboo why do you hate us

tl;dr: ranboo’s songs that he would use for lore playlist might very well be a timeline of c!ranboo’s life, from even before dream smp and that’d be super cool

if you read all the way through this just know i would die for you

anyways feel free to drop your interpretations of the songs in the notes :0

#salem.txt #enderwalk arg #ranboo #mcyt #arg #dream smp #holy shit i spent like 5-6 hours on this #also some of this may be reaching because i am sick and also wrote half of this late at night JSKJBSKJS #i really hope i didnt forget anything lmao

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pirate-tink · 3 years ago

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Oh my gosh! That was too good!

Thoughts on The Paranormal Hacktivity Job (with major spoilers) below:

The opening felt like an episode of Supernatural, until the two guys walked away- then it was all Buffy. And then Sophie said "real estate scam" and it was Scooby Doo. Then we got an assassin? And I don't know what it was after that, besides AWESOME!

(Also though, what kind of person goes to bed after the power goes out without trying to fix it first?)

Ladies night on Halloween is awesome. I love the looks- Sophie's leatherette skirt in her first outfit, her whole red robe look (especially her necklace), Breanna's matching sweats, Parker's hair and make up, and leatherette pants. They all look so fierce!

Breanna is too cute! All excited for Halloween- I LOVE the decorations in the lair. And then her stealing Parker and Sophie's thunder with "Let's go con ourselves a conman!" and trying to walk off- just too cute! She's got some great screen time showing off her skills too. Running all the technical from behind the scenes is my kind of competence porn.

I am LOVING the set! It's beautiful and old and creepy and cool. I would live there.

Parker was great in this episode. She had more of the leadership role, while Sophie "over-acted magnificently." The two of them calling each other out on engaging in "criminal behavior" (without the boys home) was funny. And Parker knows about the saints- I figure Hardison's been teaching her a few things... Her flipping around and fighting the bad guy before she tases him (so cool)- Eliot's been teaching her a few things too. I like how she blended his fighting with her thieving flexibility skills, and still used her taser.

My first thought wasn't "they killed Sophie!" It was "how'd they flip the kid so quickly?" I may watch too many of this exact kind of show... But I like that they redeemed one of the baddies.

I love Eliot being so proud of Breanna for taking down the assassin using a haunted house! I want more mentor/mentee between the two of them. We've had great bits between her and the rest of the crew, I need Eliot to take her under his wing and teach her something. (Though, the kibitzing she laid on him when he was trying to fight the bodyguard in The Tower Job was really cute.)

And, of course, the ladies trying to scare the men at the end was just perfection. *chef's kiss*

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imherongraystairstrash · 4 years ago

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So between a few fics I’ve read between various fandoms as of late, I came up with the cutest idea ever, with a hint of angst of course. I am gifting it to you because you’re an amazing human being!

So you know those fics where a character gets de-aged and sort of keeps their memories, but because they’re younger and *waves hand* magic, it’s mostly just impressions of the people around them? What if prior to TID, Will got hit with a potion or spell or something that de-aged him to like a 5-8 year old or something. And he doesn’t really remember his curse, but what he does know is that Fairwell have been raising him, so he thinks they’re his parents? And calls them as such? And he’s just the sweetest little boy, always chasing after them or Jem, wanting to be read to or picked up and cuddled. And then the potion or spell wears off after a couple of weeks of this, and they have to go back to dealing with normal Will, who claims not to remember anything of what happened, but totally does, and acts worse than normal accordingly.

Uh oh, I got carried away with a fic againnn. Thank you so much for this amazing request though! I would post it all here, but I’m not even done and it’s almost at the 2500 word mark, so I’m posting this chunk, and if you enjoy, you can look out for the second part! Here it goes:

Will Herondale De-age fic (part 1)

“Jem?” Charlotte asked, incredulously. “Why, may I inquire, do you have a toddler in your arms?!”

“Mama!” The toddler, who looked an awful lot like someone Charlotte knew, squealed. He began frantically squirming in Jem’s arms, and reaching out to Charlotte, desperate for her to hold him.

Charlotte took the toddler from Jem’s arms. He shot her a grateful look as the child ceased his squirming and put his head on her shoulder and promptly began playing with a loose strand on the bodice of her dress.

“Whose child is this? And why does he think I’m his mother? And why does he look exactly like Will?”

“That’s because he is Will.”

Jem must have gone mad. That was the only other explanation. “James Carstairs, there better be a good explanation as to why you seemed to have kidnapped a child from the streets!”

“I did not! That is Will, Charlotte. Somehow, he got turned into a—a child while we were patrolling.”

“What do you mean?! Who did this to him?”

“I don’t know! I was not present at the moment. All I know is that I went to go find him and there he was!”

Charlotte held the boy at an arm's length and looked at his face. Sure enough, the little boy had eyes the color of blue glass. His unruly raven hair curled in a pile on top of his head. He stared at her and she knew.

“By the Angel!” Charlotte exclaimed.

The child—Will— giggled.

“Oh, Will. What happened to you?”

“Lottie, have you seen my—” Henry paused as he came into the threshold and looked at little Will. “Whose child is that?”

“Ours, apparently.”

Henry looked at her, confused. “What?”

“It’s Will.”

“Will? But Will is sixteen. Why is he so tiny?”

“That’s what we are trying to figure out.”

“Papa!” Will exclaimed, opening and closing his fists.

Henry’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not your father.” He said. Charlotte noted that he looked at her back, perhaps so horrified, he was hoping to hide from Will’s gaze by moving behind Charlotte.

“You’re not?” Will asked, his voice so small, Charlotte had to suppress the “aw” that was building up in her heart.

Henry seemed to think it was adorable too, and not nearly as frightening, because when he spoke again, it was softly. “No, I’m Henry.”

Will nodded. “Papa.”

Henry shot a look at Charlotte. The want to coo at Will was short-lived. She was about to pull out her hair in stress of what to do.

“Here, Henry. Hold Will for a moment, would you?” She said, putting him in Henry’s arms.

Henry looked tense for a moment, not knowing what to do, until Will wrapped his arms around his neck tightly. A small smile spread across Henry’s face.

“Who do we call?” Charlotte said, “what will the consul say? He’ll think we killed Will and tried to replace him with a Nephilim child. He won’t even try us with the mortal sword. This is so absurd, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Charlotte, I still feel our Parabatai bond; it’s peculiar and faint, but it’s still there.”

“Is it still on him?” Charlotte asked.

“I haven’t checked yet.” Jem said. “The first thing I did was come home, I–I didn’t know what else to do, Charlotte. I panicked!”

“It’s alright, Jemmy.” Charlotte said, patting his shoulder, “we will figure it out and fix this.”

Charlotte turned to Henry and Will. The latter was snuggled up against Henry’s shoulder and sucking his thumb, perfectly content to stay there for the rest of the day.

Charlotte walked towards them and moved his thumb and pulled his shirt down just enough to see the edges of where his parabatai rune began.

“He still has his runes.” Henry said.

Charlotte shook her head. “He has only his Parabatai and Clairvoyance rune. Whatever dark magic he’s under cannot break something as sacred and powerful as a shadowhunter’s first rune nor the Parabatai rune. Which is a relief for when we manage to change him back.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to change him back?” Jem said, a worried expression on his face as he looked at his parabatai.

Charlotte put her arms around him. “Of course we will, Jem. Don’t you fret.”

…

“He’s much more pleasant when he can’t talk much.” Sophie said, side-eyeing Will as he padded around the room. He stopped in front of her and offered her the cog Henry had given him to keep him entertained. Sophie took it hesitantly, and Will tottered away, in search of something else.

“He’s definitely more affectionate.”

“Well,” Jem said, “the innocence of childhood.”

“Right,” Sophie said slowly, looking around the room, before turning back around, saying she had work to attend to, but that she’d come back if her help was necessary.

Jem began reading the book in his lap, but he found that he was reading without processing the words, and he kept having to read the same paragraph over and over again. No matter how many times he read it, all he could think about was how the last time he checked his parabatai rune, it seemed to be getting lighter; a dark gray instead of it’s normal, stark black. He hadn’t told Charlotte yet, though.

Speaking of Charlotte, she was speaking, now. “It would need to be a trusted warlock.” she said, before she was interrupted by a tugging on her dress. She froze and turned her gaze downward to find Will, his blue eyes wide open, staring up at her. He put his hands up and Charlotte sighed as she bent down and picked him up. “As I was saying,” she continued. “A trusted warlock would be necessary. I don’t want to know what would happen if the Clave were to find out about our…situation.”

With Will’s head rested on Charlotte’s collarbone and his fingers playing with her necklace, Jem realized two things. The first was that Charlotte looked like the symbol of empowerment; she was a defender of the fact that just because women were mothers, it didn’t mean they were any less capable of leading a group of people, nor that they are, by any means, weaker. The second was that Charlotte was less of an older sister and more of a mother than any of them had thought. The same went for Henry. No matter how old they thought they were, they all still relied on Henry and Charlotte, and they needed them more than they cared to admit.

“Who can we trust?”

“That is the question of the century, Jem.” Charlotte sighed.

“I can’t imagine Ragnor Fell would say anything to the Clave. We could ask him.” Henry suggested.

“Except he never seems to be available.” Charlotte said.

It’s true; even Jem knew that Ragnor wasn’t very keen on assisting the Branwells for matters that he wasn’t forced to do.

“However,” Charlotte continued. “I will send a message to him regardless, as it won’t hurt to try, and there is nobody else I could think that wouldn’t report to the Clave.”

“It's a good thing that the only thing Ragnor hates more than us is the Clave.”

Henry frowned, “Ragnor hates us?”

“No, darling, he just hates helping us with our problems.”

Henry’s frown deepened, like the idea of not wanting to help people confused him greatly.

“Miss!” Sophie exclaimed, coming into the room, a little bit breathless, suggesting that she had sprinted there.

“Sophie, what’s the matter?”

“The Consul,” she gasped, “he’s here!”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “By the Angel!” She thrusted Will into Henry’s arms. “Hide him!”

She followed Sophie out of the room, putting on a mask of cool calmness. “And don’t look suspicious.”

She closed the door behind her and Henry whirled to face Jem. “Where do we put him?!” He asked.

Jem shrugged, and looked around the room frantically.

“You two are hopeless.” Jessamine said with cool indifference, as she slipped off her glove and examined her fingernails.

“What about here?” Henry asked, sitting Will down on a bookshelf. Will giggled, falling off. Henry let out a yell and caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Yes, Mr. Consul, right this way.” Charlotte was saying.

Henry’s eyes widened in panic. As the doors opened, he quickly hid Will behind he’s back.

“He’s right here.” Charlotte said, gesturing to Henry.

“Mr. Branwell,” Consul Wayland said. “I have to speak with you on matters concerning…” he frowned at the outstretched hand Henry hadn’t shaken yet and then he squinted his eyes. “Is that a child behind you?”

The residents of the London Institute held their breaths (well, except for Jessamine, of course) before Henry finally spoke.

“Er—yes. We’re playing hide-and-seek.”

“Hide-and-seek.”

“Why yes, it’s a game played by children for entertainment in which—”

“Yes, Mr. Branwell, I know what hide-and-seek is.” Said the Consul, annoyed. “Anyway, there is an issue with a group of werewolves from Bath, who are migrating to London and you’d do well to keep an eye on them in the next few weeks.”

“And why would we do that? Surely they haven’t done anything wrong in Bath.” Charlotte said.

The Consul ignored her. “It is of utmost importance you report any strange behaviors.”

“My wife asked you a question, Consul Wayland. I should think it’s important and that it should be answered.”

“Did she now?” The Consul asked, unenthusiastically.

“As a matter of fact, she did.”

“It’s alright, Henry. We’ll look into it, Consul Wayland. Thank you for the personal message.” Charlotte said, diplomatically, leading him away from the library and out the door.

The Consul paused. “Who’s child even is that?”

“A Nephilim family from Idris needed someone to watch over one of their children while they attended a funeral.” Henry said, without skipping a beat.

“Yes. Henry and I agreed to watch over this little one for the afternoon.” Charlotte said sadly. “It was the least we could do.”

“Oh, which family?”

“The Cartwrights.” Henry said.

“Oh. Well, best wishes.”

“Thank you very much.” Charlotte said. “Sophie will see you out.”

The Consul nodded and turned back around, striding out of the room with Sophie in tow.

Jem released the breath he had been holding in since Sophie brought the message about the Consul’s arrival.

“Why the Cartwrights?” he asked.

Charlotte took a fussing Will from Henry’s arms and smoothed down his hair. “Oh, yes! Henry darling that was brilliant! The Cartwrights have so many children that nobody can keep track of each one. And there actually is a funeral being held today, though I don’t suppose the Consul will look into whether they are actually there or not.”

Jem raised his eyebrows before asking, “Well, what now?”

“We keep working.” Charlotte said with a sigh.

...

Tagging:

@autumnangel20 @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @rinadragomir @youngreckless @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @itsdaughterofthemoon @dustandshadowsworld @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @celias

Send me a message if you want to be tagged! If I forgot to tag you, it could because you changed your url and I can’t find you 🙈 If that’s the case, just send me a message and I’ll update the tag list!

#will herondale #charlotte fairchild #henry branwell #henry fairchild #charlotte branwell #jem carstairs #sophie collins #jessamine lovelace #de-age #tsc fanfic #tid fanfiction #tid fanfic #fairwell #henry and charlotte #jem and Will #pre-clockwork angel

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h2ojustaddmako · 4 years ago

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Headcanon: The Origin of Mermaids & Magic

Wooooooo...it’s been a long time since I’ve written one of those. I can truthfully say I’m been sitting on this one for maybe over a year...letting it cook up inside me...like a dumpling of information. Okay, weird image, i get it, but that’s the truth.

Basically today I wanna go over a little idea of mine I’ve had for a long time, and every time I rewatched the show, it was fed and grew larger and larger, with more and more information to help me piece out the puzzle of mermaid powers, and why all you thought you know was absolute garbage.

As I went over in my (pretty popular, if I may) post about how the powers work, mermaids use electromagnetism in a way that helps them alter the magnetic field around them and manipulate water in multiple ways to be able to “control” it. The moon is magnetic, and so is Mako Island, therefore, something in the full moon evokes the powers. But what is it?

While watching season 3 and Mako Mermaids as a whole, you’d realize they are more similar than you’d think. Actually, the lore introduced in season 3 seems to be the base foundation to the entire world-building in Mako Mermaids. One thing that is highly notable is the appearance of the crystals. Moon crystals, as I call them, can indeed release “moonlight”, this blue, hypnotizing energy wave. But that’s not really moonlight, per se. You see, moonlight isn’t a real thing in nature; the moon doesn’t radiate like the sun, it’s just reflective, and it’s surely not deep blue. And so, the so-called moonlight in the show is actually something else. Like the stones of Mako, the crystals in them also originated from the moon, and Mako (and every other “moon pool” out there) is probably sitting on millions of them. Considering how many were inside that one piece Ryan and Sophie tried to grab, the foundation of Mako Island is rich with these blue bitches. Now, these crystals are unique because they store inside them the secret to mermaid magic.

You see, throughout the Mako show, one of the most valuable items are these little ‘moon rings’. These little rings with a nice, big blue crystal right in the middle. While the show never explicitly reveals that the crystals are originated from the moon pool, or Mako at all, but given the pretty obvious design choice, it’s very clear to us that it’s more than just an artistic design. They also work in a very similar way - they both radiate blue energy that is very strong, and have serious powers. Mako gave us a very big hint to the origin of that, by saying the moon rings need to be recharged in full moons. That’s when the power of the moon is the strongest. Now going back a little, we said the moon doesn’t really shine a light of its own, so what are we talking about? Well, like the crystals on the rings, the crystals on the moon absorb power daily, from the sun and space. The sun uses a strong magnetic field, holding the planets and what-not spinning around it in perfect rings since the creation of the solar system. The crystals on the moon absorb that power, and every night, the moon radiates it back to earth, to its cousin, Mako Island. Simplifying things, the moon absorbs power and in return release it towards Earth, only for that power to charge the entire Mako Island crystal colony. Many have spoken about the weird sensation Mako gives them - electromagnetism, and no wonder mermaids feel it stronger, since they are sensitive to it more than most people. The girls felt the comet getting closer because a part of them is now sensing magnetism in the environment.

So Mako is charged with energy, so what? You see, the moon pool’s shape is very interesting. The decision to place it at the bottom of a volcano isn’t just a creative choice (though it is very cool). The shape of a volcano is that of a cone, of a funnel, if you may. The moon centers around the small opening above and radiates into the moon pool itself. Unlike the rest of the island, which seems unaffected during full moon nights, the shape of the moon pool allows the power to get trapped in the spacious room of crystals walls, awakening the power that is also trapped inside the crystals themselves, probably magnifying the intensity of it by a lot. Add the fact that the full moon is the stronger of the faces of the moon considering all of it is facing Earth and you have yourself a force not to be played with. That means that the moon pool as a room has very strong energy to it, one that apparently can turn someone into a mermaid.

The mystery of why a mermaid, of all things, and what mermaids have to do with the moon is still a puzzle left to be solved. But one thing’s for sure, mermaids are not natural creatures, despite what Mako Mermaids tries to sell you. They have too many human characteristics to only be relatives to humans and go through such an evolution is a short (evolutionarily speaking) time. Plus, no power in the world can turn you into something you’re not, and for Lewis’ examinations and the medical tests they went through in the “fake sick” episode, it’s pretty safe to say that genetically, mermaids are very slightly different to humans, and it’s not something that can be detected without looking into their DNA. But that tells us enough to safely bet that the origin of mermaids is human, and not another species adapted to live in the ocean.

And yet - sea-born ‘natural’ mermaids are so different from humans. They can siren sing, they give birth to “hatchlings” (whatever that means), and heck, some can even speak to sea animals, what’s up with that? Well, these could all be considered under the umbrella term of rapid evolution. In simple words, rapid evolution is the process a species goes through in order to adapt to a new environment that is foreign to it and different from its natural habitat. While humans don’t really have a natural habitat, we are land animals, and therefore, to live in the ocean we’d have to adapt to different factors. The transformation of the full moon only does about half the work, but a mermaid like Cleo couldn’t live in the ocean forever, as we saw when she ran away. She was hungry, ‘cause she didn’t know how to hunt. She was tired, ‘cause she didn’t know where to sleep safely. And you would be too, if you were to be thrown out of your natural environment and into some place you may have the physical skills to handle, but not the knowledge.

So my theory goes as follows: in an order of events, at some point throughout Earth’s history, a piece of the moon detached and entered our atmosphere. The piece broke off, landing in several places around the world, such as China, Ireland, perhaps the Caribbean as well, but the biggest piece landed off the coast of Australia. The new mass of stone tore through the layers of the Earth, resulting in an active volcano, that eventually cooled down and turned into an island. Million of years later, ancient humans, probably a male and a female, discovered one of the moon pools around the world (probably Ireland), sometime around 3000 years ago, before the first mentions of mermaids in Greek mythology. Said humans were probably considered as witches, gods, beings of magic and power. It is not far fetched to assume they may have escaped into the ocean. Perhaps more people were interested in getting such powers; maybe it was more than two, maybe even tens of people. Mermaids were considered as monsters, beings of evil to be feared of, and when Christianity rose, perhaps unholy abominations. The moon pools were considered supernatural places. All that led to merpeople being secluded, escaping humans, and accepting the ocean as a new home. They adapted quickly, and with time, the mermadic gene was implemented into their DNA. They were still humans, just highly adapted to life underwater. With the industrial revolution, the stories of mermaids became nothing more than folklore, one with ancient gods, monsters, and myths. Every now and then someone saw a mermaid, like Christopher Columbus, but who would believe a person that saw a being half woman half fish?

this actually started as a whole other headcanon, but go figure

#Headcanon #h2o just add water #mako: island of secrets #mako mermaids #natural history

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