#therefore it is now my claras

[herleaf]

While he continued to process the implications of Clara being there, all the memories of the past and what it meant for her to be there. Most likely in that giant, tragic mind of his, he was imagining the worlds that she'd been to and all that she had lost. He'd suppress the questions, wanting to stay in naivety, knowing answers would only lead to definitives. Blaming himself, stewing in that self-loathing that only he knew so well. What should she say?

Should she hint at her travels, mention that she'd sometimes been in the same place only moments after his TARDIS had left? That she had played the role of The Doctor the way that she had with those Cybermen all those years ago. When they had gone to save Danny. Sweet Danny, the man who chose to substitute his life for the life of a child. Her sweet, selfless maths teacher -- what would he think of what she'd become? Surely he would tell her that she was continuing her cycle, fearing the end. Possibly being selfish because perhaps the end had him in it...

and she would let him believe it.

She would say it was her fault, that she wasn't ready for the adventure to end. She would wax poetic, words falling from her a mile a minute, as her gaze would dart around just as fast. Trying not to look him in the eye because she was good at lying, so long as you didn't look her in the eyes. Her eyes would water far too much to feign honesty, her heart breaking when looking at someone she loved so much and see the sadness shine back at her. Sadness and hurt that was constantly being caused by her.

Shaking her head to bring herself out of her own self-revere, she began stalking around the cell, fingers running against the grout of the walls, knocking every few inches to hear if there was anything hollow, be it an escape or a place where they knew they could sonic their way out. Or, kick it. She didn't know what this Doctor's style was.

"Borrowed a bit of your wife's lipstick. Packs a hefty hypnotic punch. Plus, you'd be surprised how far batting your eyelashes and twirling your hair can get you." It was said so nonchalantly, but she knew the words would effect him. Did she want them to? Was she mad still, despite knowing it was the only way for them to go on, that he forgot her? He forgot his impossible girl, the one who he brought back from the dead. The one who he would live countless lifetimes to bring back, only to be erased so easily. He'd remembered multiple echoes of her, sought her out from era to era to figure out her mystery, so why didn't that empty feeling he told her about in the diner fuel him to look even for just moments more? God, she truly was selfish, pushing blame onto the Time Lord despite knowing the universe depended on it.

Dying millions of times to save the Doctor also kept the universe afloat but you never see her complaining.

No, this echo--no, this Clara--was cross with herself for taking too long. For staying around and doing what Ashildr--Mayor Me--had promised him. She was protecting the people the Doctor couldn't, but not against him. She was doing it for him.

All life is worth fighting for, after all.

Her fingertips grazed ever so slightly against her pulse point-- well, where her pulse point should be, out of habit. It was strangely her form of being pinched to confirm she was awake, feeling the texture against her fingertips being an ever-present reminder of why she was doing what she was doing.

"I also used this," Realizing that she didn't want to keep things from him this early into their reunion, she reached into the pocket that was inside of her blazer, pulling out a withered and decrepit looking sonic, "You told me it was useless but Ashildr said you were a liar. That you were scared. I said you were calculated. To be honest, we were both being completely stupid, going back to a time where I was, but when have you ever known me to shy away from the stupidly dangerous? If I ever did that we wouldn't have gone on half the trips we did."

Turning around to face him, eyebrows furrowed in the way that they did whenever he was processing a plan. Trying to figure out where his mind was going and in which directions she could pick up the pieces that his brilliant mind would gloss over, how it used to be. "Reversing the airlocks, it would work to disarm them but could far too easily be twisted into an act or terrorism that both could point fingers for. Bit too risky at such a pivotal time, could lead to massacres." Nose scrunches once more as her finger comes up to press against her chin in thought, "No, there must be a secret, sneakier way out of here. These bozos treat their cells like messed up escape rooms, seeing who is smart enough to plot a prison break. It's how you get intelligence -- or, for the ones who refuse to join and are disposed of -- weaknesses in the cells themselves. They want to find the best of the best and if they say no to an alliance the prisoners obviously weren't worthy. It's like a mouse trap, we just need to think like a bloodthirsty species that would watch escapes and misery for their own enjoyment. If we can both maneuver around the TARDIS, surely we can figure this out. We just need to think heist."

Shall we?

Always so ready to go, always within her element ; The Doctor knew that there was so much more to her than that. Brave, impossible, clever, and so, so Clara. Seeing her again brought back memory after memory. From the second he heard her voice on that Dalek Asylum, to the first time he had seen her in Victorian London (the sting of the loss of Amy and Rory still gripping his hearts). And then their first meeting, the mystery, and every adventure since. All of which that had accumulating in the 4.5 billion years he had spent in a confession dial trying to save her life, as well as landing him on Gallifrey for one of the last times before it's destruction.

He wouldn't apologise for those years, for the desperate attempt to try and keep her in this universe. But he would apologise for who she is now. For how she's still alive; because she had known. She had known that she should've gone back to Gallifrey, should've walked to her death with her head held high, but who can blame her for getting distracted on the way? For, undoubtably, taking one last trip around the universe? In the TARDIS that she had pinched from Gallifrey itself? Behaviour which she had gotten from him, a way of life that she had learned from him. Who can blame her?

It had clearly stopped her from returning in time. And that? That was his fault. The result of their friendship, the result of their travels and time together. But that was a concept, an idea, he wouldn't allow himself to think too much into - although the worry had been there from the day he had found out that Gallifrey had been destroyed again. Just because that worry was confirmed now, did not mean it was the time to beat himself up over it. Or to judge her in any way for her delay or her fate. The Doctor has enough weight on his hearts without that. And if nothing else, this regeneration of his had told him that sometimes there was such a thing as too much blame; too much trauma.

"Oh, so much to catch up on. You have no idea." On his end, Bill, Missy, Yaz, Ryan, Graham, Dan and Gallifrey - The Time Lords and The Master. He knows how Clara responded to The Time Lords, knows what she thinks of them, and it makes him wonder just how much she'd understand The Master's actions, once she finds out the reason for them. The Timeless Child, oh, and the not knowing or understanding what he is or where he came from. And The Doctor thinks he knows how she'd respond to that one, too. Because he remembers her. Every part of her. She'd tell him to get a grip, and that he's The Doctor. Always is, always had been and always would be.

And the thought of that made him smile, because even though she hadn't said it, even though he doesn't know what she'd actually say or do, she's still there. In his mind, making him feel better, even when she's also right in front of him.

So he's not going to lie. He's not going to hide. He's going to tell her the truth, about everything, in more ways than he had told anyone else. Because he thinks he needs it. And because he has no one else. And finally, because he still trusts her, with all of his being. So he'll have the opportunity to find out soon enough, what she thinks.

But for now they need to focus on getting out of there.

"Right - uh- air conditioning." And he turns his focus to the problem at hand, motioning to Clara as he moves back towards the door. "They're going to use the air conditioning system to spread a toxin all over this space station. It's the easiest way to take out their opposition; two political parties out in one sweep, we JUST need to find a way to get past them." The guards, who think they're protecting their political parties by locking them up. Something told The Doctor that they weren't going to listen to them if they tried to explain. A plan that never works, so what next? "How did you get in here? Actually - seriously - what did you do to get past them?"

[alwaysspeakshermind]

A-Z of Favorite Fictional Ladies C is for: Clara “Oswin” Oswald

Imagine my surprise the first time I got on the internet to check out the DW fandom, and discovered that a good portion of it cherished an intense dislike toward Clara Oswald. (Really, the surprise is my own fault. The internet tends to only like strong female characters in theory; in general, whenever it’s presented with a loud, bossy girl who’s clever enough to reasonably obtain most everything she wants through a combination of wits and self-made luck, it labels her either a bitch or a Mary Sue, no exceptions. while characters who bitch for no reason whatsoever are given free passes by fandoms and actual Mary Sues are hailed as Empowering To Little Girls! But I digress.)

I, however, am most definitely not the internet, and I disagree with all the Clara haters in the fandom. Clara is either my favorite or my second-favorite companion in Doctor Who, and I’m not embarrassed at all about that. In fact, if anything, it mystifies me how often I see people who praise characters like River, Astrid, Mme. Pompadour, and Jenny labeling Clara annoying and/or a lazy plot device. I mean, I’m a to-each-their-own type of person, but in what world is Clara or any non-villain Doctor Who character more annoying, contrived, or plot-device-y than River? And what makes any of those other characters better than the nanny/teacher who argues with the Doctor more than any character since my dearly beloved (but admittedly abrasive) Donna Noble?

Honestly, I don’t get it. I love Clara, and there is a less-than-charitable part of me that makes certain judgments about the confidence levels of people who despise her but, you know, that’s another essay. This is one in praise of my short little bossy bestie with an ego that rivals the size of the TARDIS’ interior, and an even bigger heart.

 Why she’s my girl:

So. Again. It may bug the heck out of everyone else, but I love the fact that Ms. Clara’s character shifts drastically between S7-S8 from thwarted dreamer with sweet-but-fierce-but-kind-of-scared tendencies to seasoned, bossy-bordering-on-shrewish traveler who becomes so angry and terrified (and all the angrier because she’s terrified) at the sudden loss of control when a lot of unforeseen changes are suddenly heaped on her that she cries in the middle of negotiating for her life.

Hate her all you want, call her ‘convenient,’ ‘flat,’ or ‘a walking plot device’ all you want, but Clara is the best all-around companion in ten seasons of Doctor Who, and it’s not even close. If Martha had gotten more than one season I’d probably be making a different argument but here we are and yes I’m still bitter about how dirty they did my girl. Justice for Martha and a pox on that witch from The Family Blood who challenged my baby’s medical knowledge. She’s quick-thinking, decisive, stubborn, kind-hearted, loyal, domineering, and a delightful, more-than-is-strictly-healthy amount of conceited—in essence, a natural foil for the Doctor. She strong-arms her way into the role of conscience when the Doctor forgets human constructs like sympathy and compassion exist, and even the usual ditch-the-companion-because-their-life-is-in-danger-if-they-stay tactics can’t get rid of her…she has to be tricked into leaving the eleventh Doctor, and it doesn’t even work the first time.

The TARDIS dislikes her at the outset, and she retaliates by calling it a “grumpy old cow.” She is the companion who finally mentions the first thing I would mention upon being told to get inside a random blue box—in all seriousness, why, why did it take 6½ seasons for someone to be like, “What exactly are you planning to do with me inside that box, because…?”

She is a born adventurer and loves being in charge, but is willing to put her heart’s desires on the back burner to help those she loves. She is often afraid, but hates being afraid so much that she combats the fear by standing up and confronting it almost recklessly. She cares deeply for the Doctor and keeps him on track, whether it’s reminding him to focus in their early days together, or reminding him he can’t just run roughshod over people in their later days together. She resents the fact he seems to take her company for granted, but can’t stop the part of her that gets excited every time she hears the TARDIS arriving. She pranks—and has allegedly kissed!!!—Jane Austen. She stays with the twelfth Doctor even after he runs off and abandons her multiple times in the days following his regeneration because her Doctor—the fez-and-bowtie-loving Doctor she trusted her life to—asks her to please not leave him. She struggles to balance her tame, ordinary life-commitments with her dangerous, exciting life in the TARDIS, and finds herself caught between the life she wants to lead and the life sense is telling her she ought to lead.  

I could go on about her for days, but the essence of it all is this: Clara is loyal, clever, and determined. She is never fearless, but she frequently pretends to be, and beneath her calm, cocky, put-together exterior lurks a girl who will always stay longer than she probably should because she is still not really over all the people she’s loved who’ve left her. 

Favorite quotes:

Too many to count, but some of the ones I keep coming back to are:

“Is this what you do? You just…crook your finger, and people just jump in your snog-box and fly away?”

“I am the boss.”

“And do you know what? Run. Run, you clever boy. And remember me.”

“Why do I have to be the witch?”

“Hang on. Three of you in one room, and none of you thought to try the door?”

“Are you trying to scare me? Well, ‘cause I’m already bloody terrified of dying, and I’ll enjoy a lot of pain for a very long time before I give up the information that’s keeping me alive; how long have you got?”

“I am not a control freak!”

“That’s the look you get when I’m about to slap you!”

“Is that what I look like from the back?” [“It’s fine.”] “I was thinking it was good.”

“Speak for me again, and I’ll detach something from you.”

“Let me be brave.”

[natequarter]

if other doctors did human nature:

one is badly cosplaying as a teacher at coal hill. susan, not having regenerative abilities, is watching over him. barbara and ian have never met the doctor as the doctor; as far as they know, he's just their crotchety coworker doctor foreman, who STILL won't share his first name. the doctor was on the run from gallifrey when he stumbled upon the family... now he's just on the run from the family of blood. regrettably, barbara got a bit too nosy in the doctor's office at one point, and took his fob watch. can susan recover the fob watch from ian and barbara before it's too late?

two lands jamie and zoe in jamie's era. look it's all very well and good that you know how to navigate eighteenth-century scotland, jamie, but i'm a bit out of my depth here!

if three did this, literally nothing would change, except that now the brigadier is being harassed by two human scientists who are smarter than him rather than one. the master lands on earth and tries to sell the doctor out to the family, only for it to backfire; the brigadier's men try and fail to shoot the family; liz insists the master pay for her therapy. the doctor barely notices the difference when he becomes a time lord again

there are two different ways i'd want to play four as a human. the first is this: harry and sarah have to put up with him. stationed at a naval base, harry and sarah must ward off the family whilst also warding off the doctor's insanity. sarah is disguised as the doctor's estranged younger brother (don't question the crossdressing) and harry is disguised as harry. inevitably things go wrong.

alternatively: rather than staying in e-space, romana returns to the main universe with the doctor. unfortunately, they manage to attract the family along the way; adric must badly pretend to be human whilst corralling two fob watched time lords who have chosen a really bad time to plan their wedding

tegan and turlough have plenty of experience with hiding from aliens, being on earth, and putting up with the doctor, but boy is he annoying as a human

the doctor gives peri exactly zero instructions and then lands them in the 1300s as an amnesiac human in the midst of the black death. peri is at her FUCKING LIMIT

much like three, very little changes for eight. this is the only one i'd still be tempted to set in 1913 à la the vna/nuwho episodes. charley gets to explore the recent past (to her, anyway) whilst acting as the severely amnesiac john smith's caretaker

honestly, rose and jack would be a remarkably competent team to be saddled with the doctor as a human... and he's falling in love with both of them, of course

amy vs the family: amy has won. rory gets possessed by the family but don't worry, it gets unwritten from time. the doctor is never doing that again, ever, yuck, he ate pears, YUCK

i don't think clara could be trusted with the doctor as a human, and if this was bill and nardole, i don't think the doctor would change much as a human. missy is not fob watched because she is in the vault and therefore simply inaccessible. bill continues to get set weird essays. the family are so focused on trying to get to missy (who they KNOW is there) that they fail to realise the doctor is there and simply perish within their three-month lifespans

[katherinakaina]

TLDR: Clara is a miserable wreck and we should stop forcing that grin onto her face. Let her ugly cry. Let her have a complete meltdown.

Okay. I can't shut up about Daniil's mischaracterization. But honestly, Clara's fanon version is even worse and almost nobody is talking about it.

One kinda superficial thing that nonetheless bothers me is that in maybe 6 out of 10 fanarts featuring Clara - she smiles. This mischievous trickster grin. Or just a happy childish smile. Even when she's all fucked up and monstrous she still smiles. (god forbid a woman goes five minutes without smiling am I right?) She's generally portrayed as a rather upbeat character. Super arrogant but in a fun way (her arrogance isn't threatening like some other people's). She has some meta awareness that makes her special and therefore kinda above it all, detached from the bleakness of the narrative she's a part of.

Yeah, no. That's not Clara from the game. This is the official art. This is the vibe we should be going for.

The happiest we ever see her is here:

Sad tired little smile. Just absence of misery and fear is the best she gets.

When you interact with her in the game she's pretty much always upset about something. I don't remember a single happy chat with Clara. Maybe there are some, but they must be rare. When she's angry with you - she's angry. Now you can go out of your way and imagine her as sarcastic and snarky. But she really isn't in a position to be like that. Only in the beginning when she has backing from the Saburovs but that doesn't last long. In the end, when it matters, she has way less influence over the situation and it makes more sense to me that she would be tired and frustrated, not snarky.

I also remember her smiling more in her p2 animation. Fanon got into my brain as well. But no, these are the most she ever smiles for just a few seconds. She mostly stares at you, almost blankly.

And everyone who played her route knows that, yes, she can be silly and childish a couple of times. But she's mostly scared and confused and tries to survive in the world she understands not that much better than the rest. She's as much psychologically tortured by her 12 days, if not more (I would argue more), than the other two.

Anyway, she is not smug all knowing invincible blessed by the narrative fun loving jester or whatever. 90% of the time she's either sad or extremely sad. And that ratio is not represented in fan works. It's like she's stripped of her struggle and her complexity. And I don't love that for her.

[ak319]

Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

Part I (Warnings: Possessive, stalker, betrayal, ) ⤷ Series m.list Your name in the story is Deniz

(Your POV)

"But Clara what we can do is ---with the help of the Mayor perhaps negotiate with them. I think they would agree, I mean that family loves doing charity don't they?"

"Yup, they do, Leo. But not behind the scenes. When the camera is off, they are just another ordinary, rich, money-hungry family." My boss Clara sighed for the umpteenth time and took her glasses off. I sat quietly on the sofa listening to their banter for the past ten minutes.

Our organisation, Redwood High Social Work was now facing what seemed like a dead end regarding the 1 acre of land that was designated to be made into a proper field for sports, not only for Redwood but for Knights High which was affiliated to Redwood and was a school for Special Ed. They really deserve that ground. Every kid deserves a good sport and imagine the numerous events we can have in the field. But somehow everything isn't so easy. We received an email last night which was apparently from the palace! Like THE PALACE! We thought that it was a prank but in the morning the Mayor's secretary sent us one clarifying that yes, it was from the palace. And what it stated was that and I quote

''....the field itself isn't the issue but the forest behind it is the property of the Royal family. God forbid none of us would want anyone harmed if there happens to be any hunting activity taking place. Keeping this in mind, it is therefore requested that your honourable organization reconsider its plans and if any compensation is desired, contact the number XXXX...."

"Just read this posh ass shit. I cannot believe the Mayor ditched us like that." Clara snarled flailing her arms once more making Leo rub his temples. I noticed a few gray hairs on the back of his head. Poor guy really be getting old early due to Clara.

"He didn't ditch us Clara. He did what any person would do, listen to the higher-ups. DUH?!"

"Higher ups?! Seriously Leo? Where were these higher-ups when we officially signed ownership documents and paid for the fucking land levelling equipment?! Do you think they gonna refund me? NO! Even if they do it will be half of the amount. Those were the school's funds LEO! The principal will get chewed on by the parents and in both schools! God....I don't---I can't just wrap my fucking mind around this whole scenario. That forest is literally at the edge of the field. The fences have been already built around 2 years ago. There are no reports of any animal attacks. And it's not like we are not going to monitor our children. Do we look stupid to them?! And I swear Leo and Deniz...they don't own that forest. I checked it a million times. Nobody goes there but oh now they do? Kiss my ass! "

I took a deep breath and put down my laptop down on the table before walking over to her desk.

"Maybe, Leo is right. We can only sort this out via a meeting."

"Meeting with who Deniz? I see only one solution. That is to sue them. Imma sue them, Imma sue the mayor too. Like where is he now? Huh? Did he just use us as some campaign pawns? Did you see his fucking website? WE ARE THERE! BUT NOW LOOK WE DON'T HAVE THE FUCKING GROUND. Imma sue his ass." She ran her hand through her curly black locks in anger. I definitely can understand what she is going through. Frustration. Anger. Sadness. But we all need to think instead of rant.

"I did see it, Clara. But you need to calm down. We need to come up with something solid. And suing the royal family? Can we even do that?" I looked at Leo who shrugged.

"See? We are not making any sense right now. What is done is done. So, I was thinking like---we can use the power of media as well. Why don't I call in Alfie and get your words on the front page tomorrow? He is looking for some hot tips as well these days." Alfie was Clara's cousin and a pretty seasoned journalist too.

"Get my words on what exactly?. We need to-" She breathed in for once before continuing "We need to have a chat with both of these parties first, Deniz. Go and keep reaching the Mayor's office. We will get rid of him first. Leo, go inform Knights about this fuckery but feed them some words of hope as well like 'we are working on it and it will be sorted', gotcha? Also, ask them to keep it to themselves. I don't want any parent drama."

"I already sent e-mails to the Mayor's office. Also what about Ma'am Layla?" I referred to our school's principal.

"I'll explain this to her myself." With that, everybody got to work. Honestly never thought that a degree in Science in Policy could lead to such a problematic job. I thought everything was going to be cookies and rainbows. But meh. People ruin everything. And I mean some assholes and I know exactly who this might be. But I need to be calm and focused right now.

Anyway, why is the Mayor even siding with the Royals --- since when are they interfering in the government?. Just as I was thinking this I got a notification on my phone. YES! An email from Emilia, Mayor Alex's secretary.

It said that Carla is invited to a meeting tomorrow. Mhm. This is good news then. Better go tell her.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

Fast forward to tomorrow, we were heading to the Mayor's abode. Not his office. His home. Which was odd. It was only me, as I was the assistant to the project manager, and Carla herself, the project manager/organization head, and the driver.

"So don't worry about the talking I'll-"

"You will handle it. I know. Just don't use the word sue ten times in a row and we will be good."

"Deniz, come on. Everybody loses their marbles sometimes. Didn't you once break everything in your room just because your food order was cancelled due to rain or something like that?" She whispered to me about my meltdown. My eyes widened in embarrassment, making her laugh.

"I assume you the most humble Carla, never experienced the emotion "hanger". And guess what--I had my movie ready to be played and my pad changed. " I whispered the last part to her as well. "So yeah, my cosy time was ruined. I would wage a war for that."

"Pft. Imagine you being a Queen. You would wage war everyday then."

"Damn right." Although her words brought an uncomfortable feeling and bitter thoughts in my mind making me shiver but I remained composed.

We bantered and went through some points before finally reaching our destination. I said some prayers as I got out of the car wishing that everything goes smoothly and this gets sorted out today. Glancing over at Carla's blank look as she scanned the front door, I could tell she was hoping the same.

Soon the Mayor greeted us in his formal attire and led us to his veranda where someone else was present too. An old man but his poise screamed of experience and wisdom. His eyes seemed to smile when we entered but the rest of his face was stoic. He was introduced to us as Richard, the queen's butler of some sorts. Just great.

The discussion started and it was revealed by "MR. RICHARD" that,

"As a matter of fact that forest is a part of royal treasury but since this---trifle has started, the King has with open heart decided to hand it to your organization, but..."

All of three of us leaned and waited for the next words out of his mouth. God , he spoke so slow.

"only when Princess Kade returns back from Harvard." My heart dropped.

"And why is that?" Carla's blurted out, in favor of mine and Alex's curiosity.

"Because it is accorded in her name. Her property , her signatures." He spoke looking directly at Carla.

Alex sighed, "Well, this is still a good start. When will she be back?"

"In a month or so, sir. But don't worry, the field will be handed to you as soon as she arrives. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to her duties," Richard eyed me and I held his gaze as fiercely as I could.

That was the moment when my doubts were confirmed and hardened. I know exactly who is behind this and why. But for now, I think Carla's smile means a call for celebration.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(Your POV)

I stepped into my apartment and took a long shower which I had been desiring all day. But at the back of my mind I had a feeling that my feelings of anger and frustration instead of subsiding were about to explode more and that is what happened when I sat down on my sofa with my phone. A call from an unknown number. I picked it up but didn't say anything waiting for the other side to speak.

"Hello? Deniz?"

"Fuck you, Kade! FUCK YOU AND YOUR FAMILY! YOU RICH SNOBBY BASTARD! YOU CREEP! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! You have dug your claws EVERYWHERE HAVEN'T YOU!? How low can you go? Huh?! PATHETIC!"

"Listen, please. I beg you to listen. If you are so keen to figure out that I did it, why don't you see WHY I did it?! Even these curses that you oh so charmingly bestowed upon me right now, you wouldn't do it Deniz if I hadn't done something, because you don't consider me even worthy of your hate Deniz. And here I am, begging for an ounce of affection-

"I didn't ask you to beg!" Her words don't ever miss a chance to rile me up. Why can't this delusional woman just leave me alone?

"You study at Harvard for God's sake yet you cannot--decipher the meaning of a simple word called NO. Why can't you accept-

"I WON'T ACCEPT IT! EVER!. BECAUSE IT'S BASELESS! Absolutely baseless! I refuse to accept it because I know deep down you don't mean-" She took a deep breath before continuing and I could also hear the sound of wind in the background. Almost as if something was hitting a hard surface and I instantly remembered. 'Yeah of course how did I forget she is using a fucking payphone ever since I blocked all her numbers.' How did I even manage to make her go to these lengths? Should I even blame myself? My therapist said no. Yeah. No Deniz, this isn't your fault. Don't you dare take it upon yourself for the crazy stunts of this bastard princess. Should I blame that whole match? That day, that event, that night?

It happened when I was in high school, part of the girl's cricket team in Southampton. After a match against another school and my striking performance as an outclass bowler, being responsible for taking out 3, star batswomen of the rival team, a girl from the audience approached me. Tall, reeking of elegance and mystery. My team captain, Reece whom I was standing beside at the time with some other teammates seemed to know the Princess as we would come to know later on. They both met through mutual acquaintances at a basketball match and were now very close friends. One thing to mention is that I had a thing for Reece due to her caring, charming and dominating presence on the field. I mean come on, she was quite a looker too with her sharp features and those green calculating eyes, her height, and golden brown hair which she kept mostly in a man bun. I always felt shy for no reason when we all would work out in the school gym and she would always come to scold my posture or cause my already pounding heart to nearly blast out of my chest helping me with her muscled arms and hands. LIKE WOMAN SORRY IF I AIN'T AS BUILT AS YOU! I wanted to scream "Hey! Stop treating me as a baby or if am weaker" But man come on, deep down I loved her care and touch. Can you blame my ass? Anyway, I digress. Back to that "After Match Moment".

Reece introduced her as a longtime childhood buddy and kept her background mostly vague and we were already exhausted after the match so didn't pay any heed anyway but mostly all of the team recognized her as the princess of the fucking land that we were standing on. Even though I was drenched in sweat and overwhelmed by the crowd — mostly parents and teachers and now a fucking princess standing in front, I still noticed Kade's lingering gaze on me. At the time, it was somewhat off-putting, but I decided to let it go. Little did I know how I would be drawn into such a heartless game, not only by Kade but also by Reece. I had trusted Reece as a mentor and a friend, and I even harboured a special affection for her that I never disclosed to anyone or dared to confess to her. Reece was the type of person who had many admirers, and my own insecurities made me feel like I could never compete. She could have anyone she wanted, so I focused on my studies and cricket instead.

After the meeting with Kade, Reece initiated plans for an outing which was very rare for her to do so. It was something Hana did, our wicketkeeper as she was the cheery one, the sunshine and the glue of the team. Others didn't seem to notice Reece's sudden change in demeanour, but I did as whenever we went to Reece's house or somewhere out, she seemed to avoid me in a way that is difficult to describe. Like she would be talking to me but not looking at me?. Also, Kade seemed to always show up and eventually became part of our friend group. Thank God she wouldn't stare at me as she did that night but still lingered around me. I always felt strange when we played cricket in front of her and even with her. She always was eager to ball herself when I used to bat and Reece let her do it first , every time. Kade once fixed my posture when I was batting. Like, excuse me?? I am a professional here. I know how to bat. Are you fucking kidding me?! I wanted to smash the bat on her head. Everyone except Reece thought that it was condescending for her to do that. And the fact that she touched me while doing it.

Bruh.

I too lost my shit at that time and did tell her politely that I know how to bat to which she apologised with a smile and backed off.

Reece straight up once "little sister zoned me" in front of everyone at her cabin during a BBQ and both she and Kade laughed as if it was the funniest shit they ever heard.

What shocked me most was Reece's behaviour few days after that. She really took the role of 'big sister' too seriously. She paid extra attention to me as if babying me and often I would find goodie bags in my locker or doorstep after practices and matches. I was...honestly just fed up. Like what fucking drugs are you on , Captain? First, you ignore me and then--this? Calling me and making me your sister? Giving me gifts? Like it took me so much to bury my feelings about her and she is "platonically love-bombing" me?

One day I had enough and texted her respectfully that I don't want all of this attention and I just wanted to be treated like a teammate as before. And asked her if she---likes me by any chance and she is doing all this to impress me. (Which is the one I hoped at that time of my youth and dumbassery that she would agree with and confess her feelings) Fate had other plans and hell broke loose when she rang me and informed me.

'Look, it's me giving you all that stuff but I ain't the one buying 'em', Dizzy. It's Kade, well she likes you and um--so ever since she told me about her crush on you, she sends me these to give em to you- and Dizzy---I can't say no to my friend ....who is also royalty. You should try to understand. She really really likes you. Trust me. She's a bit--aloof when it comes to expressing it. Especially since it's you." She chuckled lightly. "Honestly, you here made a princess scared of you, be proud of yourself...cuz Kade ain't easy to intimidate.."

That was when my whole world collapsed. So all of this ---bullshit--confusion--and- God...

After that, I confronted Kade face to face as Reece called her to school one day. She remained steadfast and pleaded to give her a chance but I was deep in anger and felt played. Not to forget the fact that dating a fucking royalty was not the thing I was even imagining at that point at 17 years old. Informing your parents you are dating a princess.....nah.

After that, I focused on my studies and game not talking to Reece other than when I had to about the match. I stopped hanging out with her. I hated her. She didn't care anyway as I would later find out from another teammate that Reece looked at me as not her sister but SISTER-IN-FUCKING-LAW! LIKE WOMAN?! During my absence and one of their "Chill Nights", Kade had made it clear to her in front of other teammates that Reece would be her best woman at OUR WEDDING!? Do you get the level of craziness?! THESE TWO WERE MANIACS! Thank God, I graduated somehow and Kade hadn't appeared in my life after the argument with her and neither did her gifts. I also broke off contact with Reece's ass and even rarely talked with other players but they were honestly more supportive and understood my side. However, Kade and Reece's sis-romance was off the charts. Just go marry each other, weirdos.

Fast forward to a few years and voila, Kade is back and more persistent than ever. Even Reece messaged me on instagram that I should get hitched with her as it's better for my future for which I retorted.

'Um, focus on your life, Reece. Heard you've got a league coming up' Yes, she is a national player now. FML. That was my dream too but I am grateful I ain't because she would be playing alongside me. Eugh!

'Also I can make decisions for myself and I don't appreciate people trying to coax me into anything I don't want to do, you know that very well. Match against the Kent Lionesses, 30 sept, 2013? Yes, didn't wanna do a spin, didn't do it and gave u a good 4 wickets. While Tanya was forcing me to do fast bowl. So please, get the fantasy of me being your BFF's wife out of your head.'

She indeed was unhappy but left me on seen after saying you are missing out on a great woman and a great life.

Right. Fuck you too.

Still fast forward to now and Kade is still looking for ways to connect with me and re-enter my life or trying to RUIN the one I have by creating such circumstances which all link back to her. I have blocked so many numbers of her that now she uses payphones.

I need a break.

Back to reality. Oh , she still is rambling.

"Kade?"

The line goes silent. Good, now is my time.

"Bye." And I cut the call and powered off my phone. I immediately sent a text via laptop to Carla that I needed a prolonged leave as I was leaving for my (homeland/town). The perks of having a nice boss is that she agreed and didn't even pry much and soon I booked a flight and got ready to pack.

My mind however kept swirling with other notions. For example, what will happen if I say yes to Kade? What If I just never come back and consult all of this bullshit from the start with my family and come up with a plan to start an undercover life.

My body is so exhausted by the memories and anxiety that i just collapse on the bed and make a mental note to think over this during the flight.

Next

AN: Guys, I wanted to make it clear that I just don't like using (Y/N) in stories, as I hate typing it. So, I will be mostly naming you, the readers ♡. Yes, you, my little family of 10 😭. I would like to know your opinion. Do hang around for further parts. Kade Emsworth's side is coming up soon.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

For the newly added Klee and Clara

Having there older sibling S/O person thing! Put on some charisma to try & bail them out of time out

(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Sibling!Reader trying to get Klee and Clara out of time out

"Retry the speech check, just reload and retry!" - The Russian Badger

Jean sighs as soon as she sees (Y/N) enter the room. Putting down her pen for a moment, she then looks at them approaching.

(Jean) "(Y/N)..."

(Y/N) "Master Jean! I am so sorry for the trouble Klee caused today!"

(Jean) "She knew the consequences when she decided to go blast fishing-"

(Y/N) bowed apologetically.

(Y/N) "It was my fault, Master Jean. There was something in the waters that spooked me, and she was only trying to help. I swear she didn't do it on purpose."

Jean watched their expression with close scrutiny before lowering her shoulders and giving a sympathetic look.

(Jean) "And you are telling me the truth?"

The sharp gaze of the Acting Grand Master made (Y/N) fidget.

(Y/N) "Yes, as embarrassing as it is..."

Jean walked over and put a hand on their shoulder.

(Jean) "I understand. You are a good older sister/brother for wanting Klee's situation cleared up."

(Y/N)'s expression suddenly beamed-

(Jean) "And as an older sibling myself, I know when another one is lying."

-And quickly reverted to fear.

(Jean) "(Y/N), you know the consequences."

...

Klee was sitting in "solitary", which was really just a relatively empty room inside the Knights' Headquarters, barring a few shelves, tables, and chairs.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and (Y/N) awkwardly walked in, with Jean behind them, arms crossed.

Klee jumped up in surprise, running up to her sibling.

(Klee) "Big bro/sis? What are you doing here?!"

(Y/N) "I uh...got put in time out as well."

(Jean) "You'll be able to come out when you think about what you have done wrong."

Jean gently closed the door, and both of them heard it lock, her footsteps slowly fading away.

(Klee) "Aw man, now we're both in big trouble..."

(Y/N) smiled as they knelt down to pat Klee's head.

(Y/N) "Don't worry, I have a backup plan."

They slowly reached into their pouch and pulled out a wrapped fish, charred to perfection from Klee's bombs.

Klee gasped as her eyes sparkled, looking at their brother/sister.

(Y/N) put a finger to their lips playfully.

(Y/N) "Not a word of this to Jean, got it?"

Klee nodded enthusiastically before the two shared their meal together.

Neither of them really learning their lesson, much to Jean's dismay.

A/N: Good luck with the speech check on THIS one, good lord.

Svarog stood stoically in front of a terminal, the light from his mono-eye gently pulsating.

Upon hearing (Y/N)'s footsteps, he turned around to face them.

(Svarog) "(Y/N). What is it?"

(Y/N) "Why is Clara in the corner?"

The light pulsated for a moment before turning around to the terminal once again, but still giving a reply.

(Svarog) "Clara has disobeyed a direct order to not eat the dessert before her dinner. Therefore, disciplinary protocols are in effect."

(Y/N) paused for a moment to remember what he was talking about.

(Y/N) "You mean the jar of cookies? It was only the one gone-"

(Svarog) "It does not change the fact it will ruin her appetite. Early sweets lead to fullness, which leads to food being wasted. Something that cannot be tolerated for someone of her age."

(Y/N) walked up to the terminal, giving puppy eyes to their robotic father figure.

(Svarog) "As the older sibling, you must not spoil Clara. Nor should I.-"

(Y/N) "It's just been a while since she got to have a cookie, Svarog. Surely you can remember that!"

His head slowly whirred to face (Y/N).

(Svarog) "My memory circuits are functioning normally. It has been twenty-seven days, eight hours, and fifty seven minutes since you and Clara have last had dessert.-"

(Y/N) "So that's why you can go a little easy on her! Clara didn't want to disobey you, but she was just having a craving! I promise she'll eat every last bite during dinner."

Svarog remained silent, barring the mechanical noises emitting from his body.

He turned completely to (Y/N), in what nearly sounded like a sigh from his gears moving.

(Svarog) "Your argument is...logical. Reducing disciplinary protocols, your presence is required."

(Y/N) smiled at that, following him outside the room to where Clara was standing quietly in the corner of their living room.

(Svarog) "Clara. You are permitted to leave time out."

Clara's head looked up in surprise before turning around and seeing her family, wiping one of her eyes.

(Clara) "I'm sorry, I won't do it again-"

(Svarog) "Do not apologize. My measures were...harsh for your actions."

(Y/N) "Next time you want to take a cookie before dinner, just ask either of us, okay?"

Clara looked at Svarog as he slowly knelt down and wiped away a tear gently with his mechanical hand.

(Svarog) "Your brother/sister is correct. Given permission, you will not be punished."

(Clara) "...T-Thank you!"

She gave Svarog a hug before running up and doing the same to her sibling.

Svarog watched silently, but both of them could tell he was at least happy to not see Clara sad.

(Svarog) "I must go back to monitoring the other humans outside the camp. Dinner will be prepared at 6:00 PM."

Svarog nodded and walked back into the control room, leaving the two alone.

(Clara) "Did...you convince Mr. Svarog to let me leave?"

(Y/N) ruffled her hair gently.

(Y/N) "Mhm. Just had to remind him that treating yourself won't spoil your dinner. Let's go out for a little bit until dinner so you can work up your appetite, alright?"

Clara smiled and nodded excitedly.

(Clara) "O-Okay!"

[galaxiasgreen]

📚🐦‍🔥Stay With Me

Slow burn Garreth x F!Reader romcom-mystery [T-Rated, 5.6k words]

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do." He stares at them, open-mouthed. "You've set me homework?"

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring.

But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

[NEXT]

[read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

A/N: Just to note, in this story Garreth and others fought Ranrok with MC. Enjoy!

1. A Mutual Tutorship

He calls you Prim, mostly because you hate it.

It's not a nickname Garreth gives you for fun (though make no mistake, he loves to tease you with it). No, it's a nickname that's descriptive, deriving from your most cardinal trait. Prim, because you are. Prim and proper and academically minded. Meanwhile he's never had an aptitude for learning, preferring the freedom of exploration over the rigid structure of curriculum.

On paper, you seem like a match made in hell – but in practice? Well, he's always up for a challenge.

He doesn't get to meet you, though, until the dawn of his sixth year, when easy classes and free periods for the exam-weary older students are over. He doesn't even meet you on the day he first hears of you.

Back then, you were merely an illicit suggestion.

"I'm worried about you, Garreth."

He sinks into the chair in Professor Weasley's office. He's been here so many times now it practically feels like a second home, mostly for, ahem, disciplinary reasons, but there are the rare moments when his aunt calls him in for a quick catch-up, tea and biscuits, sometimes to discuss family news – a great grand-uncle dying or one of his cousins announcing a betrothal.

When the professor called him in this time, two days into the term, he thought maybe his parents were expanding their gnome collection and she wanted him to advise against it (there is such a thing as too many gnomes, and it's any number more than zero). Or maybe his sister Clara needed help adjusting to the school – she's a first year now, after all.

So it's like the rug is yanked from under him when she asks about his grades.

"It's two days into the autumn term, Auntie," he says, not prepared to have this conversation so soon. "What's there to worry about? I haven't even had all my N.E.W.T. classes yet."

"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. You have so much potential, Garreth. You are incredibly bright and passionate, and I know you are capable of so much, but your O.W.L. scores left a lot to be desired, and I worry that you won't be able to handle the workload this year."

"Don't know if you remember," he says airily, "but I practically saved Hogwarts—"

"Yes, yes, last year in the caverns below with your friends, I know, Garreth. I was there." Her lips bunch. "But no school-saving antics will boost your grades. Your heroics are the only reason you don't have to repeat your O.W.L.s, and you won't have such an opportunity this time around."

He drops his head on the back of the chair, groaning. Imagine stopping a whole goblin rebellion... and still having to write history essays. He literally made history.

"Your father suggested something I actually like," she says, drawing Garreth's eyes back down. "It seems you need some motivation, and I know you work well when you're with your friends. Therefore he suggested you pair with someone. A mutual tutorship, if you will."

"You want to give me a study buddy?"

"Yes! Oh, I do like that phrasing much better."

"You can phrase it any way you want. Still wipes."

"Garreth..."

"Come off it, Auntie. What are they gonna' do? Sit with me doing every piece of homework I have? And I didn't flop at everything. I got an Outstanding in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Which were your only top grades, half of which because Hecat saw fit to reward your capabilities against Ranrok last summer," she remarks shortly, taking a piece of parchment. "You don't need a study buddy for those subjects. You do, however, need one for History of Magic, Astronomy, Divination and," she stares meaningfully over the rim of her spectacles, "Transfiguration."

He grins sheepishly. "As it happens, I know someone who's great at it?"

She sighs, putting the parchment aside and dropping into her chair. "I know you want to become a potioneer, Garreth, but even the most famous potioneers are well-rounded individuals and excelled in subjects outside of their specialty. Look at Professor Sharp! He was an Auror!"

"Okay, I get it, I get it." All this talk depresses him – all this knowing that he's a problem depresses him. "I promise I did try. I just— find revising very hard and demotivating. And you know, the whole saving-the-world thing..."

Professor Weasley gives him the look.

"I made it to N.E.W.T. classes, didn't I? I'll try this year, I will. You don't have to get me a... study buddy."

"Oh, but I think I do, and as it were, I happen to know the perfect student to match with you. A very bright young lady one year your junior, a Ravenclaw. She excels in all her subjects" – she pauses – "except Potions."

"So you want me to teach her Potions," he clarifies, "and her to teach me everything else?"

"That's right."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"I think you'll find it will be." She makes a knowing face that he doesn't like. "So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?"

"... Can I say no?"

"No."

He sighs. "Brilliant."

His schedule's already packed with classes and homework, now that his education's ramped up for sixth year, and he mulls on the extra work a mutual tutorship will bring for the next few days. Explaining it is even more difficult, when he has to tell Leander he's missing Quidditch for this.

"A study buddy?" he scoffs, as they lounge in the Gryffindor common room after classes that day. "Sounds right horrid."

"Tell me about it."

"Who're you pairing with? Do you know?"

"No idea. A Ravenclaw in the year below, apparently."

"A younger swot? Merlin's pelvis, couldn't she have put you with, I don't know, Amit? Or Everett? If she wanted a Ravenclaw?"

Garreth slouches. The sofas are so comfortable he doesn't want to move. "Bet she knew if she put me with either of them we'd get no work done, Everett because he'd be too busy trying to prank me, Amit because he'd be wasting time describing irrelevant extra stuff."

"Oh, no," Leander panics suddenly, "if this works then she might start doing it to all of us. I don't want a study buddy!"

"Relax. It's only because I'm her nephew that she's testing it with me."

He's sure his aunt wouldn't care quite so much if the same blood didn't run through their veins. After all, she has no children of her own – so Garreth and his sister are the closest she'll get. All her motherly affection, and motherly reprimand too, goes to them.

So when he gets the owl on Sunday afternoon to meet promptly in the library during lunch the next day, he sucks in his gut and resolves to at least try and have fun with it. He likes meeting new people, even if he doesn't like the circumstances – maybe he'll get along with the new Ravenclaw. Maybe they won't be as boring as he suspects.

He heads to the library the next day – late, mind, because he didn't particularly feel like rushing from Charms – and spots Professor Weasley waiting by the front desk.

That's the first time he sets his eyes on you.

Waiting placidly at his aunt's side, you're perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. Your waistcoat is straight, your long skirt starched, your shirt tucked in and top button done. You hold your books in your hand – because of course you do – and the satchel draped over your shoulder bulges with more of them.

You're the picture of a prim Ravenclaw student.

And it fills him with misery.

"Hello, hello," he says to you both, "sorry I'm late." Not.

You purse your lips, like you can detect his lie, but say nothing as his aunt gives him an admonishing glare. "That you are, Garreth. Did I not say you were to be prompt?"

"I grabbed some extra parchment, Professor," he makes sure to use her epithet in the presence of other students, "because I didn't know if I would need it."

By the way her brow loosens, it was a good lie. "All right. Come along, I've reserved a table for you both."

He decides to introduce himself to you on the way upstairs. "Nice to meet you."

You introduce yourself as well, but it's clear by your aloof eyes that you were also roped into this arrangement. "Nice to meet you as well," you repeat awkwardly, voice high with tension.

Turns out, Professor Weasley reserved an entire table, right at the back of the top floor. It seems unnecessary, the isolation, how you've obviously been coerced.

"Now, your proper sessions will take place after classes finish for the day, so for now I believe getting to know one another's style of learning would be most prudent." Professor Weasley ushers you to two seats next to each other. "I'll be sitting over there to keep an eye on you. Madam Scribner has given you both permission to have a quiet chat, so why not break the ice?"

It feels so forced Garreth would prefer to get a Howler right now, but under his aunt's stringent gaze, he plops onto the chair and tosses his bag under the seat. You draw out the seat gracefully, fold yourself upon it, and gently place your satchel, then books, on the table. There is method, he realises, to your movements.

"So..." he claps his hand awkwardly. "Where are you from?"

You clam up immediately, and he doesn't know why that's the wrong thing to ask, but he backtracks.

"Sorry, I mean – you know, where do you live?"

Your frown is still pronounced, but some relief breaths free. "London. You?"

"Devon."

"Right. I've never been there."

"It's nice. Except in the winter. Then the sea air is like murder."

Silence. He has a feeling he'll have to nudge all conversations, which is simply brilliant.

"Have any family?"

"Just my parents. They— they used to live in Asia, before coming here." You shift. "You? I mean, besides the professor."

"How much time do you have?" When you don't answer, he tugs his collar. Tough crowd. "Er, I have a younger sister. Clara, she's called. She's just started her first year. Little menace. Was hoping she wouldn't be Sorted into Gryffindor, but I guess it runs in the Weasley blood. Then there's my cousins, but there's so many that if I named them all you'd miss all your afternoon classes. Hey, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing?"

You don't even crack a smile. This will be a long, painful conversation.

"Why don't we get started then?" he suggests instead, because the faster he does this, the faster he can leave. "I mean, discussing what we're meant to be, er, learning together? Shouldn't take very long for you if you're only failing Potions."

Your cheeks bloat. "I'm not failing. I just... need a little boost."

Touchy. Okay.

"Well, I'm not afraid to admit I'm failing."

"Yes," you say, and you list on your fingers as you go. "Transfiguration, History of Magic, Divination, and Astronomy. That's four subjects."

"Hey, last year it was five, but luckily I managed to wrangle a Kneazle before it bit Professor Howin, so she bumped up my grade." He's still quite proud of that moment. You make an unimpressed face. "What? You should be grateful we don't have collect Flobberworm mucus together."

"Okay, well, I've prepared you some tasks to complete."

His amusement drains like pus from a Bubotuber.

"What."

It's a statement of disbelief so sheer he doesn't even accompany it with the tonal flick of a question.

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do."

He stares at them, open-mouthed.

"You've set me homework?"

"It's not homework."

"It's work that I have to do in my own time. It's homework."

Your lip curls in displeasure. "Like I said, if I'm going to tutor you, I need to know how much you already know. Then I can incorporate it into my lesson plan."

"Your lesson plan?"

"How else are we going to know what to cover per session?" you ask, bewildered. "You must have something planned for me, right?"

Of course he doesn't. He was just going to give you potions to brew and point out where you'd gone wrong. He rakes a hand through his hair, thinking about whether he could get away pretending to have a stomach/ head/ knee/ butt ache.

"If you don't want to do it later," you say, "you can do it now. Then I can be prepared for our first official session."

How about I run and never look back? With his aunt's watchful gaze on his back, he reluctantly unfurls the first scroll. Transfiguration. You hand him a quill and inkwell and he surfs through, ticking the answers he thinks are right.

"You're not even reading the questions."

"Am too."

"Glancing your eyes over words isn't the same as reading."

Oh, Merlin, you will be the death of him. Sniffing indignantly, he slows down, actually taking time to read the questions. How many exceptions are there to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration? He tries the rest, though not very hard, because just reading this stupid parchment has left him perplexed, and hands the scroll to you when he finishes.

He's halfway through puzzling when Geminis are born for the Divination quiz – he guesses February – before you roll his parchment up again.

"So? What's the verdict?"

You can't control the grimace on your face, and it's all he needs to know.

He's a total shambles. A failure.

"It's not— unsalvageable," you say hastily, your expression flattening. "But we have a lot of work to do."

He drops his head onto the table so loudly Madam Scribner yells "SSSHHH!" from the floor below.

When he's completed all your scrolls and falsely promises to make a list of things for your Potions O.W.L.s, you collect your belongings, slotting each book and scroll into its rightful place in your bag, give a quick word to his aunt in thanks and leave without goodbye. The whole exchange was about twenty minutes but to Garreth felt like twenty years. He tromps up to Professor Weasley in utter disbelief – and despairs in the way her grin unfurls.

"I told you it would be a fair exchange."

"She's made me homework, Auntie!"

"SSSHHH!" Scribner yells.

"Sorry!" he squeaks over the bannister. "Homework, Auntie. And— lesson plans. She told me I was practically unsalvageable!"

"I definitely heard not unsalvageable, Garreth."

"You can't be serious with this girl."

But Professor Weasley simply pets his shoulder.

"Your future is at stake here, Garreth. It's about time you start taking it seriously. She will help you. You will help each other."

But he really doubts it.

He waits for you outside of the Ravenclaw common room entrance for your first session later that week.

Dread roils through him as he leans against the bannister. Two hours of this, thrice a week, when he could be doing literally anything else. Quidditch has started again – which his aunt has barred him from playing due to his grades – but he could at least watch the Gryffindors practice, watch Leander and Eric Northcott toss Quaffles between them.

He's never had a mind for anything that doesn't interest him. History, divining the stars – both approaches. Even turning butterflies into bells doesn't capture his attention the same way potions do. There's just something about the way you can play loose and fast with the rules, with the ingredients, with the measurements, with the method, that delights his curiosity.

He wiggles his arm so it doesn't go to sleep. He's been to the Ravenclaw common room a few times, usually with Amit – for when they need to get back at Everett for catching them with a dungbomb. Unfortunately it means he's well acquainted with the eagle knocker.

"Honestly, Mr Weasley," it enunciates with that high and mighty tone, "if you sulk any harder and your expression will stick permanently to your face."

"Know from experience, do you?"

It doesn't bother to grace that with a response.

"What quandary plagues you so?"

"I'm doing a study buddy programme."

The knocker toots – literally, like a trumpet. "Hundreds of years I have guarded this tower, and never have I heard something so funny!"

"You could be more sympathetic."

"For the boy who thought it would be funny to tickle my nose with a feather when I was asleep? I think not!"

"I didn't think you had a nose!"

The door swings open then, and you step out. Prim, proper, picturesque. You startle at the sight of him.

"I thought we were to meet in the library."

"I was passing by, thought I'd come up and walk with you."

Suspicion flutters through your eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why would you want to walk with me?"

He blinks. Is he being stupid, or has he missed something? "Er, because it's a nice thing to do, and if I have to waste six hours of my life on this mutual tutorship every week then I should at least get to know you better."

"I see."

Something not quite as strong as displeasure edges your voice, but you fall into step with him – not missing the way he makes a rude face at the knocker on the way downstairs.

"Look, I'll be honest," he begins, "I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but I'm naturally pre-disposed to not taking anything too seriously, so even if we have to endure revision together, we can at least try to have a good time with it. Sound fair?"

You don't answer immediately. "What's the catch?"

"What? No catch. I just don't want to be totally glum each time I see you."

Something flashes across your expression, but it's too fleeting to identify it. "All right, that's... understandable."

"Great."

Conversation is stilted, however, even when you get to the library. You don't immediately warm to him, which is odd, because he's very used to people immediately falling for his magnanimous charms. You pull out your notebook – a timetable neatly journaled into the opening page – as he dumps out his parchment and quills.

"Since our sessions cover six hours per week," you say, "I thought we could work on your subjects for four of them, and then two hours on Potions for me."

"Right, fine." Sounds positively wretched. "My aunt's got Sharp's permission to use the potions laboratory this Friday, so I guess we can do it then."

"The potions laboratory?"

"Yeah. What? Did you think we could do Potions work without... potions?"

"Shouldn't we focus on the written portion?"

He frowns. "The written portion of the Potions O.W.L. is tiny. Like, miniscule. And boring."

You draw yourself up. "I don't find it boring. The essays are the best part."

Oh dear Merlin. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but the majority of your Potions O.W.L. depends on actual potion-making." He grins. "Why? Scared, are you?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"You seem keen not to do it. Don't tell me you have some tragic backstory involving an exploding cauldron."

"No," you grind out. "I just... don't have a natural affinity for it like I do all my other subjects."

"That must've been really hard for you to accept."

He's teasing, but your face sours. Wow, you really are a tough crowd.

"Let's start. History of Magic."

This is one of those subjects he needs to know for his career choice – potioneers are expected to understand the history behind advancements in potion-making, after all – but Professor Binns makes it near-impossible to derive any sort of interest in the subject. The first topic of the year, the disbandment of the Wizards' Council in 1707, is already so dull Garreth can feel himself melting into the floor the moment the ghost opens his mouth.

"Now, I've already started the essay about the tumult of the Ministry of Magic's early years." You pull out a roll of parchment. "If we compare the key argument points—"

"Wait," he says, holding up his hand, "what do you mean, you've started the essay?"

"The essay that Binns set."

"You're doing N.E.W.T. level classes?"

"I'm doing N.E.W.T. level homework," you correct. "The professors assign it to me and I work on it with my regular homework."

"How do you have time to eat? Or sleep?"

You shrug. It's all so easy to you. You probably dream of your textbooks. It's so boggling.

"As I was saying," you continue, "we ought to start by comparing the points we've both made for the essay."

He just can't fathom it. Is there any point getting to know you when your spare time is dedicated to nothing but grades and studying? How can anyone be so academically good at (almost) everything, take on extra work, agree to tutor a frankly hopeless student... and still find time to enjoy other things?

"Right, yes, comparing essay points," he mumbles. "Sounds good."

Then again, he thinks, when neither of you move, and your eyes begin to narrow, you don't seem like the type of person to enjoy anything.

"You haven't started the essay yet, have you?"

"... Does a sphinx speak in riddles?"

You groan.

The first Potions session that Friday is a fun one – because now he gets to test you, watch you squirm and sweat. After the painful four hours together, scribbling theory for Divination and star charts for Astronomy, it's finally time to show what he can do. You're always so put together, so  he wants to see how bad you are, see what it is that justifies asking for his help in the first place.

Professor Sharp is waiting in the potions laboratory when you both arrive, seated at his desk marking homework.

Garreth grins. "All right, Professor?"

His expression curdles exponentially. "I trust I don't have to keep one eye on you for the entire two hours, Mr Weasley?"

"'Course not, sir. I'm only here to supervise my charge. In fact, you could say I'm the professor here."

"That doesn't fill me with much more confidence," Sharp mutters, then flicks his quill. "I've prepared the one on the left. Work quietly, please."

You seem nonplussed when Garreth steers you to the potions station. "Do you have a... reputation?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"You must do, by the professor's tone. You're a— miscreant."

"I'm a creative," he corrects. "Professor Sharp just doesn't appreciate my artistry."

"I can hear you, Mr Weasley."

"See? No appreciation whatsoever."

He gave you a list of ingredients to bring, and as he lights the fire beneath the cauldron, you sort them on the table – a bezoar in a mortar, mistletoe berries tied together with twine, Mooncalf tears in a phial. He notices you spend an inordinate amount of time placing them in neat, agreeable piles, rather than, you know, starting the actual potion-making, and he tucks this information away.

"Right, so, today I thought you could brew the antidote to common poisons."

"Antidote," you say stiffly. "Common poisons."

"That's what I said."

"Isn't that a third year subject?"

"It is." He smiles devilishly. "But we're going to do it with a twist."

Your brow furrows. "You're supposed to teach me relevant things, Garreth."

"You'll be lucky I'm not adding my own spin on it. No, just a simple improvement to up the ante. We're going make sure our potion can also act as an antidote to spider venom."

"Spider venom?" Your hand reaches for the textbook, but Garreth palms it away. "But— I need the recipe."

"You won't get the full recipe in your O.W.L. exams. You only get a list of ingredients and vague instructions. But it's better to learn by doing, and you will be expected to understand how the property of each ingredient affects the potion." He gestures. "Shall we begin?"

Your lips are flat as you fill the cauldron with standard potioning water – two pints of it, until it bubbles nicely over the flames. You know the first step by heart, which is to crush the bezoar into a fine powder and add four measures. Good start. With each of his thorough explanations, you fidget, uncomfortable.

"Why not just feed someone a bezoar? It works, doesn't it?"

"Why do we extract essence of dittany instead of just nibbling on the stem? Because combined with other ingredients the potion is more powerful. A bezoar wouldn't work against more virulent spider venom on its own, but it will in the potion we're brewing, because its healing properties are enhanced. Also, have you tried shoving that whole thing in your gob? Tastes rank."

"Wait," you say suddenly. "I need to write this down."

"The tastes rank part, or shoving in your gob part?"

You ignore him, grabbing your quill and scribbling furiously.

"Watch your cauldron. It's bubbling over."

You squeak, dropping the quill and stirring. A sheen of sweat coats your forehead, which is pretty hilarious. You've only just started.

"What's the next step?" he asks.

Your eyes skim the ingredients, frantic. "Erm... Mooncalf tears?"

"Try again." When you grimace, he says, "Begins with Stuh. Ends with andard ingredient."

You glare at him. "This doesn't make sense. Why add that now?"

"It's a stabilising agent. It emulsifies the ingredients together."

"Like eggs in a cake," you murmur, which surprises him. "But we've only added the bezoar to the water. What's there to stabilise?"

"Bezoars don't dissolve in water, and this will help the ingredients we add next."

He can see your frustration. Suddenly it makes sense why you hate Potions so much. You don't understand the science behind it – ironic, for someone who seems so methodical, and so proficient at other more technical subjects like Transfiguration. You pour the herbs into the brew, watching cautiously as the liquid thickens and changes colour from grimy brown to forest green, and notes of saltiness waft into the air.

"Good." The potion isn't looking too bad – maybe a little too green, but not unworkable. "Now, what next?"

"... Mooncalf tears?"

"Nope. You need to desaturate the brew."

"So turn up the heat?" He gives a firm nod. "For how long?"

"Well, you've added standard ingredient, which acts as a thickening agent already, and bezoar powder burns easily, even in water. Do you think much heat should be applied?"

"... Maybe?"

"Bet your examiner would love that answer."

You scowl. "Just tell me."

"Bring it to simmer," he instructs. "But only for a few minutes. For the aforementioned reasons."

After you write this down, you nudge another piece of wood into the fire pit below, then adjust the knob for heat. After a few moments, the bubbles pop ferociously on the surface. He watches you watching it, transfixed, eyebrows sloping in intense concentration. It's clear you desperately want this to work – but something holds you back, whether it's just disinterest in the subject or not. You lower the heat after three minutes, leaning back.

"Now do we add the Mooncalf tears?"

He laughs. "Merlin's beard, you're desperate to get those tears in. No, now you wave your wand and let it stew. Do you know for how long?"

"I remember this," you say. "It was about thirty minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Well now I'm not."

His grin only grows. "What type of cauldron are you using?"

"Pewter."

"How will that affect the time?"

"Isn't pewter less conducive of magical properties than the others, and therefore makes brewing time slower?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

"Garreth."

"Yes, you're right," he says. "You're a right laugh, you know."

"You're not," you remark tersely. "So it stews for more time then?"

"Probably about forty-five minutes, though I reckon with how you bunged all the standard ingredient in, it'll probably need a few minutes more. We'll eyeball it."

You squeak. "We can't— eyeball it!"

"'Course we can. When it's reduced enough, we'll take it off the heat."

Still, it's about a fifty-minute wait, and unfortunately you decide to get him back for all the fun he's having by asking how his History of Magic essay is going (... it's not). Even Professor Sharp laughs when he stumps at the first bullet point.

When the fifty minutes slog by (and they do slog – probably because Garreth dies a little with each legislative policy he has to know by name), you check the potion again. The water has boiled down to a gooey liquid, half the size it was before, and the colour has deepened.

"Now you have ground unicorn horn to add. This is where it gets interesting." His voice dances with glee, but you look like you'd rather get punched in the face. "The recipe for the regular antidote calls for a pinch of unicorn horn, then two clockwise stirs. But to work against a more potent poison like spider venom, you need at least two pinches, and double the number of stirs, to let everything combine."

You hunch over your unicorn horn powder. "Are you sure this isn't one of your creative exploits?"

"Hand on heart, this is all by-the-book," he says, then calls out, "In fact, I should really get some house points for it!"

"Don't hold your breath," Sharp calls back.

Garreth winks at you. "Worth a try, right?"

Your brow drops in exasperation.

Still, you follow his next instructions carefully. Two pinches of unicorn horn powder, then four stirs of the cauldron, and it hisses and pops as the powder melts into the solution. Finally you add two mistletoe berries, careful to keep the toxic leaves away, and wave your wand to finish. It's as expected – not bad for someone who claims to struggle at the subject, though he had to coach you through most of it.

"So... how do we know if the potion works?"

"Funny you should ask." Garreth reaches for his bag. "I have a spider I keep in a jar—"

You scrabble away at once. "What?" you shriek – it's the first explosive emotion he's seen from you. "No, no, no—"

"Merlin, that was a joke! 'Course I don't have a spider in my bag!"

Your shoulders drop. Your expression storms.

"Not. Funny."

But he giggles. "Come on. That was kind of funny."

"You really are a miscreant."

"Not a fan of spiders, are you?"

"They're detestable." You shudder, crossing your arms. "I don't know how anyone can stand the creatures."

"I think they're kind of cute. You know, in an ugly sort of way."

You step back to the station, gesturing with your chin to the potion again. "So? How do you know if we succeeded?"

"Colour, consistency, smell. Is it teal? Yes. Is it thick, and the bottom of the cauldron is only visible when you scrape it with a spoon? Yes. Does it smell like Graphorn dung?" He sniffs. Winces. "Oh yeah."

"How do you know what Graphorn dung smells like?"

"You don't want to know." (It involved Everett, naturally.) "So, with all those factors, we can safely say the potion was a resounding success. Huzzah!"

Yet you don't seem particularly pleased. He's not sure why, given that his aunt implied you were so poor at the subject even a mediocre brew was unthinkable. But maybe your bar to success is much higher than his. He helped you a lot, after all – maybe you'll only consider these tutoring sessions a win if you manage to brew an entire potion by yourself, without his ogling over your shoulder. Without someone literally telling you what to do.

And if that's what you want, okay. He's happy to help. The quicker you pick up these potions lessons, the quicker he is freed of your prickly company.

"Wait," you say suddenly, "what were the Mooncalf tears for?"

"Oh, those?" He chuckles. "They're not for anything. They're just to bamboozle you."

Your glare is potent enough to set him on fire.

"I am trying to learn here, and you fooling around is not helping."

"Who says this isn't helping? You'll never forget Mooncalf tears aren't in the antidote now, will you?"

"But— that's—!" You let out a groan. "You're being insufferable."

He just laughs harder. "You're so prim, it's hilarious."

"If wanting to learn things the proper way makes me prim, so be it."

"The proper way? Oh ho ho, no. There's no proper way."

"Written study is the proper way."

He leans on the potions station, grinning villainously. "Then I'll prove to you that it's not all about textbooks and words on a page. You're going to learn so hard you won't know what hit you. You'll see."

Your raise your chin, derision clear.

"Very well then, Garreth."

"All righty then, Prim."

He sees how it digs. "What? Don't— don't call me that!"

"Only calling you what you are, Prim."

When the session ends, he agrees to start that essay – or at least think about starting it – and you agree to review your notes for the antidote, but no matter how many times you remind him of your real name, he teases you with the moniker until you part ways. Unfortunately for you, insufferable doesn't quite have the same ring to it, and you wouldn't dare deign to his level of immaturity.

So at the end of the first week, you still call him Garreth.

And he calls you Prim.

[NEXT] [Divider credit, gorgeous art by Lyworth]

[ichasewaterfalls]

CAR OMORASHI.

By reading this, you verify that you are 18+ years old, and understand the content you’re about to read is considered NSFW and omorashi-linked, and therefore unsuitable to minors.

I tried to keep the heightening urge to pee in the back of my mind as we sped down the highway towards the mountains. We’d only been driving for an hour or so, and I didn’t want to inconvenience Jake just yet. I was sure that I had a good few more miles left in me before it escalated to emergency status. I’d turned down the initial toilet break before we left, confident in my holding ability and wanting to keep to our strict schedule in order to get to Jake’s parents house before Christmas Eve.

Dismissing the thought from my mind, I instead scrolled the plan I’d written for our trip. Itineraries for each day, special activities for us all, and even a family photoshoot for the entire group. I’d taken joy in planning every family reunion since Jake and I got married 4 years ago. Admittedly, I’d also taken control the 2 years we were engaged, and the 3 years of dating. So with 9 years of planning under my belt, I was confident I knew how to create the perfect festive bash.

That wasn’t the only thing under my belt. My bladder reminded me of its existence as Jake merged rapidly into the left-most lane, and I shivered randomly as a wave of urgency fell down my spine.

‘What the hell? You’re supposed to be in the right lan-‘

Before I told him off for his directional mishap, I looked up quickly to see the lane was blocked off, a massive spill of hay all over the road. Should’ve thought of this as a possibility, since we were just passing the thresholds between country farms and mountainous ranges. My bladder seemed to be passing a threshold too, between uncomfortable and urgent.

‘We’ll have to go the back way. It’ll be about 45 extra minutes added to the journey.’

I sighed with frustration, 45 minutes? Not only did it throw us off schedule, it meant longer for me to hold my increasingly aching bladder.

‘I’ll text your mom.’ I scoffed, quickly shooting the group chat a text to let them know we’d be a bit late. As I put my phone down again, I crossed my legs and placed my hands on my lap, preparing myself to have to place a hand or two between my legs to hold myself.

I must have been shaking without notice, but Jake obviously did. He always did.

‘You alright there? Need a bathroom break?’

‘N-no, I’m fine. I- Yes I need a bathroom break.’

‘I’m not sure where the closest facility is on this road. I don’t normally drive the backroads to mom’s. I’m sure we’ll figure it out babe.’

The drive continued, and so did my need for a bathroom. I now had one hand between my legs, and another hand scanning Google Maps, trying to find any relief stops near us. But of course, rural mountain roads aren’t the most reliable source of internet connection. I thought about asking Jake to stop so I could get out and go, but since everyone was diverted, like us, we had cars in front and behind us. And with narrow, slippery roads, there wasn’t enough space to stop and pull over, or safely get off the road. A sinking feeling set in. My sense of chivalry was no longer important to me, he was my husband after all.

‘Jake it’s getting worse, I need to find relief ASAP.’

‘I don’t know how to help babe, I’m trying.’

He was obviously noticing the severity of the situation, as he placed his foot on the gas, going up to the safest speed limit for these roads. I watched him stare at me anxiously as I shoved both hands inside my pants, trying to hold back the pee from escaping.

As the car climbed higher into the range, my need for a bathroom reached a breaking point, and the urgency in my voice became palpable. "Jake," I gasped, my face contorted with discomfort, "I really can't hold it much longer."

"I know, Clara," Jake signed, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of civilization or a restroom. "Just a little longer, okay? Let's try some deep breathing together."

He reached over, placing one hand on my shoulder to guide me through deep, calming breaths. "Inhale deeply...hold it for a moment...now exhale slowly," he coached, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising panic.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the seatbelt tightly. "It's not working, Jake," I whimpered, my voice trembling with desperation.

But as the minutes ticked by, my resolve wavered. I clutched the dashboard, my face flushed with embarrassment and defeat. "Jake," I whispered, tears forming in her eyes, "I can't...I'm so sorry."

Before Jake could respond, the inevitable happened. My efforts to hold it in proved futile, as the pee rushed out of me, soaking my jeans and the car seat beneath me.

For a moment, silence filled the car, save for my muffled sobs and Jake's stunned expression. The weight of the situation hung heavy between us.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," I managed to choke out, tears streaming down her face.

Jake took a deep breath, reaching over to comfort me. "It's okay sweetheart," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy and understanding. "Accidents happen. We'll figure this out together."

[rumple04]

Hello everyone,

I really wanted to do this post with you to close this incredible year, so let’s go!

Because I like numbers (it’s wrong, I did literary studies) I wanted to share some of them. My passion for Doctor Who now started back more than a year and since then, I have made a total of 157 fanarts from the show. Only for this year 2024, 105. My style has evolved a lot from the first to the most recent fanart. My discovery of the series blew something up in me that made me use very flashy colors that I was not used to using at all. Then, gradually, I fell back on my feet and I returned to colors and a style that I used already before with my OCs. (Know that you can find all my illustrations in my lexicons here)

Tumblr doesn’t share these numbers much and I think it’s very good, but I still had to thank individually the more than 1200 people who follow me here!

And I’m not done with the thanks. You’ve all been amazing this year. Your support, always growing, brought me soooo lot of joy.

My process is quite simple, Twelve (Capaldi in general) and Clara live in my head 24/24 7/7, so I draw them in my corner. I say that it costs nothing to share my brainrot on the Internet and paf: you are here to invade me with likes, repost or even kudos. I am so grateful. Thank you so much 🥺

This year 2024 also marked the opening of my own discord server. This server would never have been created without the adorable @lex144 who once said to me «I dream of a place where Capalfan could gather and create together»

This discord has been a real breath of air for my creativity (and many hours sleep less because of its long exciting or terribly funny discussions).

I met lovely people to chat and create regularly like my dear @neonpsychopomp-blog @beetlegraves @the-immortal-redshirt @dontletmeeatpears31 and I definitely forget some others (because some are not on Tumblr)!

We have all together create incredible links and collaborations! I hope to see many more beautiful projects born from all your talents!

A special thanks to @lex144 who is my twin soul of the internet. Thank you for being so cool and funny, and most of all, thank you for continuing to make the Capaldi era live under your extraordinary pen 🤍 I probably had stop drawing without you!

Some of you know, I was a freelance pin illustrator and designer from 2019 to 2023. 2024 was a year of hiatus during which I had several personal projects to complete (like my marriage for example). Since the end of October, I have been looking for a salaried job. 2025 therefore sounds the beginning of a new adventure but also - obviously - a drop in the level of illustrations.

However, I am also pleased to announce that it’s been several months since I worked on a very complete version of an Artbook gathering all my known and unknown Doctor Who illustrations. As production costs are very high and I am afraid that I will not have enough pre-orders, I want to wait until I have a salaried job to start the pre-orders. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I do!

Thank you again to each of you, for your love and support 🤍

And don’t forget: Laught hard, run fast, be kind.

[littlest-nightingale]

Nobody asked but here's my newwho agere timeline lmao (9-15)

Okay so we start with Rose. Rose is a certified silly little lady. Okay well lady makes it sound like she's all prim and proper but she isn't. Anyway Rose regresses. her mom doesn't know, and neither does Mickey. But because she's spending sooo much time with The Doctor and he's already... well, a time traveling alien (and therefore used to "weird" things) she entirely trusts him with her regression. (honestly slay. i don't think it gets much cooler than having a time traveler for a cg so go off) BUT ANYWAY The Doctor has briefly heard of agere but never seen it, it just never interested him as much as the myriad of other fun things about humanity. But now he's got Rose and he's definitely at least going to try taking care of her. And he's. okay at it. a bit too protective but he's still fun and very willing to learn. they make friendship bracelets. he knows more about my little pony than he ever intended to. and notably, the TARDIS has a playroom now. There are stars on the ceiling and bed with a blanket nest and shelves and shelves of silly little toys because he just can't say no to her and it's great.

Then he regenerates and. uh oh

Rose, on top of being stressed about, uh, EVERYTHING ELSE is also worried about loosing her caregiver. Spoiler alert: that doesn't happen. Ten is a wonderful caregiver, even more playful and silly yet still very protective (he actually time travels with her when she's regressed, which is more than can be said for Nine) and everything is fine and dandy until uh oh, he loses Rose! fuck!!!

During the time between Rose and Martha he doesn't touch that playroom at all because uh oh! guilt! grief!!!!!!! all around sad! The big big sad!

That doesn't stop the Doctor from trying to regress himself, after a while. it's helpful, he 100% understands why Rose regressed so often. Anyway.

by the time Martha comes around he's doing it pretty often. he's never going to tell her shit about it, but when she isn't there, he's regressing pretty often.

Around the time he finds Donna again, he's actually opened up the playroom again, slightly adjusting it for himself but still keeping most of Rose's stuff. Donna doesn't know, but she does buy him a rather pathetic and skinny little stuffed animal as a joke, because it reminded her of him. it's his best friend.

Then, he regenerated into 11. 11 doesn't regress the entire time he's traveling with Amy, because Amy is a little and he ends up as her cg, and he doesn't tell her because he doesn't want her to worry. Rory is, understandably, a little bit pissed that Amy trusted the Doctor with her regression while he, HER HUSBAND, didn't know, but do you think they're going to address it? no. no they are not.

After Amy and Rory die, all of Amy's things were shoved into a closet in the playroom during a fit of grief and not touched for decades, because it just felt wrong to move them afterward.

While 11 is hiding in the clouds above London, he regresses involuntarily a LOT. he's just. very very sad.

When Clara comes along, girliepop figures out pretty quickly that he's hiding something from her, and when she finds out she pretty much instantly takes up the role of caregiver. he is a sopping wet blanket of a man and goddamnit she's going to take care of him!!! 11 is incredibly hyper on days when he isn't regressed due to stress, he's bouncing off the walls crazy insane and Clara is insanely good with him. oh. and he's a leash kid. you cannot take him anywhere (not that that stops her from doing so) She gets him a little giraffe and some teethers and little sensory toys and y'know. he's her little guy 🥺🥺

And then we get to 12. 12, unlike 11, isn't very open about his regression at all. in fact, he actually tries to convince her he doesn't regress anymore, but Clara isn't dumb and sees right through it. Once he stops being a stubborn little bastard Clara realizes just how low energy he is. when 12 regresses, most of the time he just curls up and goes to sleep. She doesn't really need to do anything other than be there most of the time. they eventually get him a bean bag that goes next to Clara's desk in the TARDIS, so while she grades and does work he curls up and naps or plays with his sensory board or just sits there and watches. he's just very, very tired. they are the definition of the "excuse me he asked for no pickles" meme. she is so much shorter than him and this is unnecessarily funny to me. just imagine her being like "yeah I have a little!" and the little is an angry looking Scottish man who is several inches taller than her and looks like he hasn't slept in days. wonderful amazing incredible i have no notes.

He doesn't tell Nardole or Bill about it. Nardole is much too strict about most things to be a fun caregiver, and Bill is his student. Sure, she's also his friend, but he has no interest in telling her. So that's all fun and great but Missy. oh Missy knows. don't ask me how she knows I have no idea but she does and it turns out that they both regress and. bangs my head into a wall. them . ough

The Doctor is definitely not going to regress around her for a variety of completely understandable reasons but Missy is very, very pent up and stressed in that vault and goddamnit he is going to give her enrichment in her enclosure. So he starts buying her things behind Nardole's back, bringing her little science kits and books and dolls and whatever her little heart desires! She does his makeup and they watch movies and paint eachothers nails. Nardole is a bit suspicious but who gives a shit they're thriving.

Eventually Missy seems to be stable enough and one day he finds himself slipping with her, which leads to a several hour long playdate and a mess that they both have to clean up. After that they settle into a routine where they meet every other day and switch off who's the cg that day, if any. The watch more movies are make matching pacis and they cuddle it's great. once again 10/10 no notes can you tell that 12 is my favorite yet.

Then we get to 13 and brother 13 is the most miserable little guy on this list. 11 may have spent decades fluctuating between headspaces above Victorian London but 13 is so much worse.

If 13 settles down for too long she starts thinking too goddamn hard and it upsets her. on top of that, she doesn't want people to know about her regression because of the sexism she started experiencing after regenerating. She knows people already few her as more emotional and crazy than her past selves and if people knew about her regression, that would no doubt get worse. Plus, she has 3 whole people in the TARDIS, which she does consider to be her responsibility and therefore she doesn't want to put herself in a mindset where she couldn't help them if needed. She regresses around the fam once, completely involuntarily, and they never talk about it again. Every time 13 regressed it was involuntary, and most of those regressions were spent crying. This gets infinitely worse after the timeless child ordeal. she may not have those memories but she experiences them as nightmares or daydreams, kind of like how when "john smith" (10) wrote stories about being the doctor because he could very faintly remember it. These nightmares and daydreams are more common when she regresses because they are memories from her childhood. This is the first time that regression has been dangerous for her. She doesn't want to, but it just keeps happening, and there's nobody to take care of her through it all.

Despite being in an infinitely less stressful environment and having people to care for him, 14 avoids regressing. Maybe one day, but not now. not so soon. not when it might be unsafe. But that doesn't mean he's completely away from it. Rose is also a regressor! She regresses for stress relief and also to have a more .. fem childhood? y'know. you get it you understand

Rose tells 14 before Donna, because he's a goddamn time traveling alien and has absolutely no right to judge her. no matter what he will always be weirder.

anyway he's like. that's so cool of you tbh but you should tell ur mom too because she's an absolute sweetheart and I'll back you up on everything. So she does and Donna feels SO guilty about Rose not thinking she would be accepting even though Rose reassures her that anxiety is just like that. But she's also thrilled? like. ohh i get to take care of my baby again. oh this is great. i love my daughter

so the Doctor's like cool. that's fun- and then he remembers that he has a time machine that can go anywhere and. this toootally doesn't end in him taking his little niece to all sorts of zoos and parks and museums with a perception filter in so she looks like a normal child so nobody can judge her. definitely not. maybe don't tell Donna about that bit

15 is considering going back to regression, and he has no plans to inform Ruby (at least not for a while.) Ruby is a regressor, but she's too nervous to tell him.

[nonbinarypirat]

Heyyy so I saw you were open to questions and doing commentary!! So I was wondering do you think Azz and Iruma’s relationship is different than Clara’s and Iruma’s? And and also would love to hear any love trio thoughts🙏 tysm !!!!

this is a great question!! as a spoiler, i am deeply in love and invested in the soulmate group and love the connections they have together and on one on one ways. yes! i do think they are different in many ways! Here's a little break down on my thoughts on their relationships :) .Get ready for word vomit, i went overboard

Azz and Iruma: Azz and Iruma relationship is one of deep personal openess. That isn't to say that they leave Clara out of their personal feelings, they do, but both of them lacked the normal carefree freedom as kids. Azz because of his brilliance and Iruma because of his parents.

Due to this, we see they often fall into sharing thoughts and anxieties with each other in their solo interactions. Azz and Iruma have also known each other the longest, at least a week or two went by before meeting Clara. So Azz met Iruma VERY much when Iruma was at his weakest moment, when he was so confused about the world he found himself in. And despite the weridness with their relationship at the start, Azz has always been there with Iruma, he's the third person he ever met here. With Azz having toned down is extreme admiration to Iruma this has made these moments possible between them.

I also don't want to make it seem like they don't joke with each other, we have seen that they do. They have both changed so much when it comes to having fun thanks to Clara. Now, they are able to have a shopping day and be silly. But without Clara to really push the envelope when it comes to fun, they have more calculated fun.

Clara and Iruma: Very much a playful cutesy relationship. (I honestly hope we get more interactions of just the two of them in the future.) Clara represents the childhood Iruma never had, never could have, and therefore allows him to explore childlike wonder. How to open up in more expressive ways, carefree exploration, amd fun to the fullest extent. And by doing so, Clara is able to understand Iruma's moods better than most since we let our guards down completely during moments of pure relaxation.

We see this when Clara immediately saw Iruma was upset and needed to let out his emotions and just be a child. She knows when Iruma is genuinely happy and when he's stressed and doesn't know how to express it. And we have seen that Iruma greatly appreciates Clara for letting him experience and understand playing, something he never had the time to do before. And by being around Iruma, Clara has been able to develop strong moral and logical thinking. Clara has always been a character that is more aware of what's going on then she let's on. But I think the childlike part got in the way of full development in this aspect of her character.

With Iruma, she is able to explore and understand more complex ideas and thinking. One issue with being so isolated like Clara was is that she never got to explore any type of critical reasoning. These things can only be developed by interacting with others. And so, in the beginning Clara was very short sighted and immature. Now, she not only has the love trio, she also has the misfits and it's not clear if she would have been able to create this friend circle without meeting Iruma. She has grown so much as a character and I love seeing her be mature and willing to make sacrifices (putting aside Iruma time because Azz needed it more) while still being chaotically happy.

Love Trio: What can I say that probably hasn't been screamed about in a different post. They are soulmates, deeply connected to each other in every way and bring out the best in each other. They don't "complete" each other, more like they allow for each other to be themselves to the fulllest. They all default to too serious/angry (Azz), too hyper/inconsiderate (Clara) and too in his own way/"yes man" (Iruma) when apart and together, make up for their weaknesses and boost their strengths.

Each of them has been important to the other's growth. They all have their place in the love trio and deeply love their roles too. The love trios relationship is based on deep trust, mutual (and healthy) dependency, and joy. By being with each other, they have created a safe space to allow expressiveness and vulnerablity while still leaving room for fun and happiness.

And it's so cute to see how close and personal they all get. Especially Asmodeus who always felt more standoffish to physical affection in the beginnings, even with Iruma besides a hand of the shoulder. As the story progresses, we see them be more comfortable with each other and that shows in their physical closeness. It's just a wonderful design choice on the artistic side of things and perfect for showing them care more for each other. On a personal note, my headcannon is a queerplatonic poly relationship (though sometimes I ship it as a full on romantic relationship) so it's even cuter to me.

anyway, those are my thoughts and interpretations of the relationships! since this post become super duper large, I will make a seperate post about Azz and Clara and link it in the comments because their relationship is shaping up to be very cute too and not just iruma focused :)

[casasupernovas]

10 is a complete and utter arsehole and RTD *mostly* gets this (obviously all the Time Lord Victorious stuff, but also his 10/Rose in S2 is a cautionary tale of two people who get so obsessively caught up with each other they endanger others and themselves until they eventually cause their own separation, like a precursor to 12/Clara, except he then undoes all his good work by bringing Rose back to give her a ‘happy ending’ with clone 10) but the fandom at large never really got that and I’m not sure why. Because Tennant’s pretty? Because he and Piper looked good together?

I don't think 10 is a *complete arsehole*

But the fandom doesn't acknowledge how s2 was a cautionary tale retconned to star crossed lovers in s3 & 4 because they are more attached to the ship rather than the actualy reality of 10 and Rose as a duo.

The legacy for 10 and Rose is Torchwood. I personally think most 10/Rose fans never watched Torchwood and that is why they don't get why 10 and Rose as a cautionary tale is a thing. I think they get to a degree the more immediate effects of the 10/Rose duo, e.g. how it affects Mickey and Jackie, but not the bigger picture.

But if you have seen Torchwood, I honestly don't know why anyone would ship 10 and Rose, or at least only give the ship space to actually acknowledge the gravity of their actions.

Now, most of the responsibility falls on the Doctor's shoulders here, not Rose, but at the end of the day, the insitute was founded to defend from alien *threat.* The Queen's impression of the Doctor was of someone who could not someone to be trusted. Now, we've seen people mistrust him off of one meeting, but it's doubly bad when Rose is involved because the companion is supposed to be the moral compass.

Captain Jack was the one who rebuilt it in Wales. Which is a whole can of worms in itself, because what did it say that someone who essentially was turned into a freak of nature who could not die (10 romanticises it by saying the final act of the Time War was life before hastily saying she couldn't control it and therefore Jack was stuck because of it) and was forced to work there, to the point where his morals began to erode and after the death of all the Torchwood members in the 90s, finally is free. He then proceeds to work with operatives while Torchwood One in London thrives and drives the city towards disaster. The Doctor interferes again and deposes Harriet - and who gave him the right? He's too arrogant and self righteous for his own good and highkey proved Yvonne Hartman right here.

I don't wanna make this ask longer than it is but honestly that's my answer. They didn't force Torchwood to act the way it did, but they are the root cause of it.

The Tenth Doctor and Rose's legacy is Torchwood. It affects every companion also (Martha and Adeola, Donna and HC Clements) and shapes everything but the show will be damned if they ever addressed this.

[paulyenvol6]

Sweet Creature (Chapter 1)

Contains: No trigger warnings :)

(Set in 1811 and this is stronly inspired by Bridgerton...)

Masterlist of this story

Eunice’s pov:

„Eunice!!“ She didn’t even have the time to turn around before feeling tiny arms tightly hugging her from behind. „Clara?“, she laughed and tried to turn around the grip. Once she managed to, she also wrapped her arms around the young girl’s back and peacefully closed her eyes.

„I missed you so much, Nini.“, Clara said and ended the hug. „I missed you too, little one.“ „I’m not that little anymore.“, the girl pouted, put her hands on her hips and frowned. „Of course not. My mother told me you are playing the piano now.“ „I do. And Sir Lockins said that I am very talented.“

Eunice smiled. „I can imagine. Tell me, are your brothers and sisters also with you? My mother said your mother wasn’t entirely sure if they could come visit us with you.“ „Alfred, Isaac and Catherine are with us, but Evan and Rosanna didn’t come. Rosanna is set to marry soon, you know? And Evan takes care of the residency while we’re away.“, Clara answered.

„Rosanna is going to marry?“, Eunice said stunned. „Wow, I can’t believe it. Mother didn’t say anything.“ „Yeah, she is.“ Eunice winked. „And do you like him?“ „In the beginning not. He was so quiet always. I thought that something might be wrong with him. But he brought me Belgian candy last time for dinner. It was soooo good Nini. Dark chocolate.“ Eunice laughed. „So he bought his way to your heart, tsts.“ Clara pouted. „Mhmm maybe. Oh, actually I went up here to get you. Aunt Isabella wanted to send one of the maids to get you but I said I could do it.“ „Then off we go.“

„Grandmother.“, Eunice smiled and gave Clara’s and her grandmother kisses on her left and right cheek. „Oh dear, how good to see you.“, the woman chuckled and took a step back to regard her. „You’re tall! Tell me, what is your height?“ „Oh I don't know.“ „Yes, she just won’t stop, mother.“, Eunice’s mother sighed and patted her shoulder.

„But dear god, you are beautiful.“, Hellen said and shook her head in disbelief. „You don’t have that from you mother’s side. „Mother!“ Isabella scolded and Eunice and Clara laughed. „How old are you again, dear?“, her grandmother asked and Eunice well – behaved answered: „I turned 19 last month, grandmother Hellen.“

„And if your mother told me correctly, you are going to get married soon?“ „Yes I am. The date is set for August, so in about a year it will be time.“ „Will I meet the young man during my stay here?“ „If that’s what you want, mother, yes.“, Isabella nodded and gave her her arm to support the old lady.

„Of course I do. I want my granddaughter to be in good hands. 19, those are the best years, dear. Oh and there is my other wonderful grandchildren. Let your grandmother give you a kiss.“

Euince’s siblings, one by one was greeted by their grandmother. Hellen had been living with Isabella’s sister Jane, who therefore was Eunice’s aunt, ever since Hellen’s husband had died. It had been a hard time for the old lady, who had lost her husband of 50 years. Her daughter and grandchildren had been a good environment for her during this time.

In this moment Jane entered the room. „My dear sister, and all my beautiful nieces and nephews! Come here.“

One could say that Jane was a awkward person because she seemed a bit unnatural sometimes. She just had a stiffness to her, which was why Eunice didn’t really like her as a child. She was scared of her tensed facial expression and her tinkling laughter, that just sounded a bit too perfect.

But now, she had learned to like her. Eunice now knew that her aunt had had a difficult life and could understand the woman better now. Jane had been sent off to France back when she was 12 years old to marry a young French Prince. She therefore had been separated from her family and her siblings, who she had been very close with. As her sister Isabella was the oldest sibling, she was set to marry the Prince and heir of the throne of England, Eunice’s father Nathan.

So Jane had moved to a strange country, to a strange court with a strange family and had to marry a boy she didn’t know and couldn’t even talk with due to the language barrier. She just simply had to live with it and do as she was told because anything else would have enormous consequences for the relationship between both their families.

Jane eventually had started to feel at home in France and had learned to love her husband. She had many children who she loved and was able to call herself happy when her husband Pierre suddenly got sick.

Jane cried many tears for him and stayed by his side until his very last breath. It was an incredibly hard time for her as she not only had to deal with her own pain but also had to shield her children from it all.

And as she still lived in France she didn’t have a lot of family around her to support her during this time. Eunice once secretly read a letter that her aunt had sent to her mother shortly after her husband had died. The letter gave her a hint how desperate the young woman had been.

She described how it broke her heart to see how her young children slowly started to understand what was going on and what had happened to their father. And how she was scared of them seeing her tears.

But after a few months the whole family had moved back to England to be closer to the rest of the family. Jane thought it would be good for her children to get to know their cousins. Clara was the youngest of them and she was born shortly before her father’s death.

Her French was basically non existent and she mainly grew up in England. She was 7 years old now and Eunice loved her like a sister. They just simply had gotten along ever since they met and Eunice felt very protective of her. Eunice believed that Clara had sometimes felt excluded from her siblings, because they for instance could all speak French and sometimes still spoke it with each other.

And there was an age gap of four years between Clara and the second youngest brother, Noah. In Eunice, she had found a friend and a sister and so she was always happy to visit her cousins.

Jane now came closer to hug her and her siblings. „It’s so good to be back.“, she smiled and kissed Eunice on her cheek. „You look very good, my dear.“ „Thank you, aunt Jane.“ „My dear sister, let me hug you.“ Jane wrapped her arms around her oldest sister Isabella and held her tightly.

Isabella had always had a very good relationship with all her three sisters. One could think that Jane might had been jealous of Isabella for having the priviledge of marrying the future Prince of England while she was being sent to France, but they had always been supportive of each other, which Eunice admired.

„When will the feast take place, Isa?“, Jane now asked, which caught the attention of everyone else in the room. The reason why they all gathered in the Paignton’s residency was their annually summer feast. It had been a tradition for over 10 years now and every year a lot of relatives and friends came to London only for the Paignton’s summer feast which usually took place in July or August.

„Tomorrow at 5 pm. This year we’ll start with a ball in St. Burton’s and then go outside where we’ll eat and enjoy the summer night.“ „That sounds fantastic. What about our sisters Brenda and Mace? I heard that Brenda won’t make it until tomorrow?“

„Yes, Brenda will arrive with her family tomorrow noon, if everything goes well. And Mace has arrived the day before yesterday. She drove in the city today to buy a new suit for Dustin.“ „Very well.“, Jane smiled and Isabella grabbed her arm. „Let us have a tea, dear sister. We haven’t seen each other in such a long time. Children, will you take your cousins out to the garden? But don’t leave the property, I will have Ms Huxley look after you.“

The young members of the family left the house through the backdoor. The Paignton’s had a lovely garden. A terrace offered space to sit on warm evenings with a generous, elegant table made of stone with filigran decorations on the sides.

Two stone stairs leaded them down to the actual garden. The family had a little pond with fish inside which was surrounded by medium – high grasses. But this was not the center of attention for the children.

They directly headed for the trees in the back of the property. Magnificent oaks, birches and spruces offered some shadow on this warm day and additionally you could find a swing between two of the trees. It was a fight betweent them who was the first person to climb the tree and eventually Alfred won and proudly started to swing.

It was a beautiful afternoon and Eunice couldn’t stop smiling. She was happy to see her cousins again and she loved the smell of summer in the air. Of course she also couldn’t wait for the big feast, as it always was one of the highlights of the year for her.

[thatone-artsykid]

INTRODUCTION POST (i guess)

Ummmm... Since I have almost 300 followers, then ig, i should make some welcome post or smth, so, HIIIIIIII, HAIIIIIIIII EVERYONEEEE!!!

(I'll TRY to keep this updated, no promises tho)

I'm Kamil, you can either call me by my name, or Kamik, or any other way you want (except slurs ofc, unless we're close friends lmao). I am a minor, trans/enby artist, who went to artschool BUT most of the art has learned by themselves:333

Art

The comms are open!! (Feel free to ask about em if you have any doubts)

Askbox is also open, if you have any doodle ideas or smth, feel free to share (I don't promise I'll do em, sowwy😭)

I mostly do digital art (I use Krita for everything), occasionally i do some scribbles in my sketchbooks, doodles in class, or generally school assignments (which i hate, but let's move on). I am a multifandom artist, who draws whatever they are hyperfixating on (rn im again stuck in re8 brainrot).

Here's the list of fandoms im (mostly) in:

Resident Evil series (mainly Resident Evil Village)

Just Shapes and Beats

Hollow Knight

Detroit: Become Human

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (mostly Stardust Crusaders)

Original characters

I'm trying to finally bring my original characters to life, and give 'em a proper lore (which isn't going well, for now, lmao). Here's the list of em!

Claire/Clara Heisenberg (re8, Karl Heisenberg is her uncle, who became like a father to her)

Carl/Clara Heisenberg (same as Claire, but in D:BH universe)

Kazakura Marcatney (jjba part3, i'm shipping her with Kakyoin Noriaki)

Surya (Kazakura's stand)

Asuril and Lumi (Hollow Knight oc vessels)

Blixer Fresh (my version of that circle coward from jsab)

Lessyr (golden eyelash pit viper oc I made based off a song Snakes from Solence)

Spooder (a jumping spider oc I made when I was bored)

Bumblee (oc based off my ikea bumblebee plushie)

Other socials i post on (including my redbubble shop)

ThatOne._.ArtsyKid

That1-ArtsyKid

Now, let's settle out, 🚫DNI 🚫 if you either are a:

transphobe/homophobe/anyother lgbtq+phobe, a terf, JK Rowling Supporter, pro-shipper, racist, NSFW/18+, p0rn bot, sexist, or any other problematic folk (if you have an blank blog with an emtpy bio, then im also gonna block you)

More things about me :333

I come from Poland (therefore my english might not be the best)

My b-days are on 29th April

I have 4 budgies (named Lemon, Lemonade, Lime and Larry) and one rabbit (named Robin)

Im not the best with human interactions, sowwy

I easily get overwhelmed, and tend to disappear for few hours/days if I do, bear with me

Not looking to become friends with anyone, but if our vibe match, then hell yeah

I'm taken by the sweetiest pookie ever existed on this earth (my bf)

I have a tons of plushies occupying my bed

I've lived most of my life having high anxiety levels, so now im tryna take everything slowly (please be patient with me)

My fav music genres are metal, alternative metal, rock, rap-rock or anything that sounds good for me

I mostly listen to System Of A Down, Solence, My Chemical Romance, Grandson, Linkin Park and Cavetown (ofc)

I want to have many face piercings and tattoos in the future (I wish to have a septum, snake bites, a helix piercing and brow piercings so bad)

i'm a really really big bug nerd, if you have any cool bug pics, SEND EM OVER!!(im not joking)

my fav drinks are green tea and mojito (alcohol-free cuz i despise alcohol)

My comfort characters are:

Karl Heisenberg from re8 (I see him as a father figure)

Connor from dbh (the tism android)

Kakyoin from jjba part 3 (he's such a nerd, istg we'd go along together)

Lucas Baker from re7 (im not joking, i love this psycho-nerd)

Luis Serra Navarro from re4 (he so diva)

Angel Dust from hazbin hotel (i love him by his feminity and sassines)

Quirrel from Hollow Knight (another father figure, yes, I see a pillbug as a father figure, don't judge me)

[queen-of-elves]

Acceptable

Armitage Hux x reader - Modern Office AU + some background Reylo

Summary: You have been working for First Order for years now slowly giving up on the idea of your dream project ever gracing your presence until it finally happened, however, there is a slightly cold and rude problem, other team leader Armitage Hux. 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN (And I'm begging you to send me some)

A/N: There is not enough classic fanfics for Armitage and almost zero AUs so I am here to satisfy the bitches, it’s me, I am the bitches

+not betaread so be kind

Words: 5.8K

Warnings: some swearing probably, there is always swearing in my fics, talking about f themself cause corporate life is annoying, some inappropriate thoughts

Tags:@l0stinth3nightsky @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive

Everyone in the company knew how mean and bossy Armitage Hux was, even if you were from a completely different department, but this project was going to pull you in his inner work team and it terrified you to get first hand experience with him. You heard plenty of times how he made new interns cry and the older ones want to commit a suicide. So you weren’t exactly thrilled at working with him even on a project you have literally dreamed of since being accepted to work for the First Order company, the most prestigious company among prestigious companies. The project required two different departments that almost never interacted which also didn’t help.

You were ready for the first meeting between two departments, each under the supervision of completely different people and personalities, to be just a horrendous trainwreck. But Armitage Hux being the team leader of the other one? You didn’t have to be some kind of prophet to know this was going to be painful just to watch. Even though you were anxiously expecting disaster to occur in the first meeting, the sunshine side in you just had to shine through. So you had an exceptionally good morning, you were on time, had a delicious bagel and the sky was sunny, therefore there was no chance of Hux fucking up your day.

The office building was huge but not exceptional among the other skyscrapers littering the city, molding it into cement block maze. The windows provide enough clearance for you to see the busy people already moving around in the offices above, you even noticed some of your own team members anxiously waiting for your arrival while preparing the rest of the documentation for today's team meeting. 

You knew you were ready, your team also knew but that didn’t put to rest the anxious little monster growing inside your stomach. Still, you put on your best brave smile and entered the lobby, greeted the receptionist Clara and continued down the hall to wait for the elevator. Beeping your employee card on the scanner, to let you proceed to the elevator, put you right back into your morning routine, well, just for your coworker and a sort of subordinate, Rey bombard you with questions in the waiting line. 

“Did you hear it?” Her voice sounded an octave higher than usual or maybe it was just your tired brain not used to loud sounds yet, nothing a good old coffee couldn’t fix in minutes.

“Hm?” Your brain was still too tired to properly answer and so you only mumbled an acknowledgement to her question. Slow sips of your latté seemed to clear your mind a bit, thank god for sales like bagel plus free coffee at the local cafe otherwise you would be unusable these days.

“You know what I mean.” You were sure if you were to meet eyes with Rey, she would pierce you with that intense gaze. 

“The merge.” There was no merge, so far you weren’t even aware of any cuts in finances for this year or the one to follow. Whatever Rey was talking about was most likely just a bunch of bored employees gossiping and conspiring together, nothing major, nothing serious. This realization calmed you down even though The Merge sounded quite apocalyptic.

“I can assure you there is no merge, especially not between our two departments, Miss-” A voice interrupted but it did not intend to finish that sentence as if the owner was too busy to learn Rey’s name at all. He turned his attention to you, measuring you over, his calculating glare went over the ink stained hands to your low set black heels with that tiny cut on the left side you were so desperate to hide with black marker.

Armitage Hux waiting in front of the elevator for your arrival was definitely not on your list for today. He looked like a pristine image out of some magazine with men’s suits, his deep blue shaded suit with silver cufflinks perfectly paired with an expensive looking watch he was now checking printing itself in the back of your brain forever. Quite a nightmarish image of a handsome man with such a cold and cruel demeanor.

“You are both late. Meeting room 3 in 5 minutes.” And with that he was gone again, like a ghost, maybe he is a ghost of this building, stackup nitpicking cold monster that was stabbed by his tired employee centuries ago and now has to haunt the rest of you. He didn’t even turn around making you puzzle if he was truly addressing you.

“What’s going on?” Whisperyelled Rey, her wide eyes scanning the surrounding as if Armitage was going to pop up from the corner to remind her she has now 4 minutes left to be present in the meeting room.

“Trouble.” You simply answered your bewildered friend, there was no better answer to it after all. The morning you dreamed of was slowly fading into a nightmarish mess but at least you had now caffeined your brain enough to proceed to normal functions. Plus your team had your back, there was nothing to be afraid of except Armitage Hux and he was simply a man in a suit. Just an ordinary man in a tailored suit with a stoic expression.

And you were right, the team really had your back but Armitage definitely didn’t, he was mean and bossy and nitpicking and just so fucking insufferable. However, the meeting ended with both departments and their leaders arriving at a consensus, not a happy one. It almost reminded you of those messy divorce screaming matches in tv shows, except this was veiled in professionalism and formal language.

Of course your suffering didn’t end just as did the meeting, he was probably a sadist, prolonging your pain with his “Word?”. You were sure it wasn’t even a question, it was just an order for you to follow him straight to his office.

Armitage Hux’s office was neat as it can be, if it weren’t for the few scattered papers on the desk you would guess this was one of those exhibitions of furniture in Ikea. Well, even the Ikea display has more personality, some fakeass photos of happy couple/family. His office is neat until it’s bare, devoid of indicating anything about the owner’s personality. 

That’s kinda sad.

“Listen, I know that the project is not top notch of the quality it could be but I think we have a solid plan we can now expand upon.” You had to win this argument, you wouldn’t let him defeat you over a project you so desperately wanted for years. So, if he wanted to fight you were ready to bare teeth at this twig in a suit. 

“Oh, and before you say it’s-,” you couldn’t even finish before he interrupted you, “acceptable.”

 “What?” You blurted out, completely stunned by his remark. Did Armitage Hux, after all that tousling about in the meeting room, admit the plan your team created is acceptable. Yes, there were few changes happening after the “discussion” of both teams but nothing you have not foreseen already that also didn’t mean you were happy with said changes. But consensus between two completely different departments is everything the leadership asked for.

“The proposal is acceptable, I don’t understand why I should be doubtful, so far you have only proven to be a valuable asset for the company.” Armitage was always the epitome of professional and now he was complimenting you. He was complimenting you, right? Maybe you had too much coffee, maybe you had not enough coffee and maybe God was spinning on his chair and laughing at you up in the sky.

“Oh, thanks. I will take it as a compliment, even though you sound like a formal email impersonator.” Gosh, did you really just say that to him? There was a cold sweat pooling down your back, anxiety ranking up. Was he going to yell at you for such a statement, what you have heard so far it wouldn’t be unusual for him to yell at people over smaller things.

“I don’t.” His expression could be only described as a deadpan expression. It’s actually kinda funny, not entirely scary. He doesn’t laugh, noted, but you do and you also make people laugh and so you set your new target.You almost look around to see a hidden camera or an entire camera crew as if in The office. And while you amused yourself in your mind Armitage sported back his expression to emotionless stare before turning his attention back to the documents on the desk. 

“You do.” A small laugh escaped your lips at that moment and with his attention divided elsewhere you took it as an ideal time to run away exit the situation and also the office.

But before you could escape this storm of a man, he had to add. “Until the next meeting I expect you and your team to finish said plans.” And with that the conversation and mess of a morning comes to an end. However, there is still a lot of time for unexpected surprises before the day ends.

And so it began, the little you running circles in your brain over the thoughts of your new co-leader, the cold redhead slowly sneaking in your head again and again. It helped the clock to tick faster which was a good thing but the constant train of thoughts disassembling every part of your interaction with him over the time was like a cold shower every single time.

The last time you checked the clock read 5 minutes after 8pm and with that you started to pack your things ready to head home, have little dinner and continue with the paperwork over a random kdrama playing as a background noise. And as you bid everyone goodbye you noticed Armitage’s crouched figure in his office, going over some even more boring paperwork than was the one waiting on you at home. It was probably true, the first one to be in the office and the last one to leave that was Armitage’s schedule.

Sad.

And so you set your mind on a new plan, a horrible and cruel plan to ruin your late morning and exchange it for an early cold shower wake up and speed walk to a cafe not only for your favorite bagel but also a special delivery of coffee.

God, what am I even doing this early?

When the alarm buzzed you were around 100% sure you were making a mistake. Waking this early should be a crime. No, It is a crime. Especially when you were a busy little bee like you always are and spent the whole night until 3am working. But part of you knew it was going to be worthy, today was the day you were going to crack that tough ice cold exterior of Armitage’s facade.

If waking up this early wasn’t a mistake the cold shower definitely was but in all honesty you were just afraid you would fall asleep on the bus, so cold shower it was. In the end it was kinda worthy, you got your favorite bagel without having to wait in long line; got another free coffee, you had no idea if the sale was still on or if you just looked so terrible they felt sad for you and just had to give it to you; you also got Armitage his coffee and as a big finale you were on time, actually very early overall. 

The office was ruefully empty. And there was no Rey to talk to, you knew she wasn’t going to be in the office until 9am but you still hoped even she would find the idea of early start amusing. In reality you expected to get laughed at when she finally decides to grace the office with her presence.

You might have felt alone in the empty corridors of the building but it was not so empty after all. The curtain might have been drawn but you could see a slim light escaping in between them from his office, the artificial light was definitely not sunshine. 

He must have stayed up all night.

Mustering courage you knocked on his door before waiting on an invitation to let yourself in. It was useless, there was no sound coming from the office and so you knocked again and then again. Realizing he was not going to answer you decided to open the door and check up on him anyway.

He was sleeping on his desk with his suit jacket over the chair behind him and loose tie around his neck. The dress shirt slightly crumpled at the edges, his red hair tousled around and neck craned in such an uncomfortable position you were sure of his incoming back pain.

“Knock, knock.” You tried to say softly, just lightly waking him up but instead you groaned, your voice still not comfortable from no use this morning, startling him awake.

“I-” His form jolted, eyes flying open and searching the room for the culprit of his rough awakening. Blue eyes finally gazing upon you, Armitage looked boyishly handsome that morning, it was not just the wide expression but the state of disarray you found him in.

You decided against speaking, part of you afraid your blushing form would say something stupid, the stupid thoughts of the redhead not leaving you alone. The, almost like a cardboard, coffee cup made an uncomfortable noise once you pushed it on the table toward its owner, making the moment even more awkward.

He took a slow sip, still not fixing his hair or attire and part of you wished he never would, it suited him and you probably liked it even more than it actually suited him. 

“How did you know what coffee I drink?” His voice still hoarse and laced with sleepiness painted your cheeks even more crimson red. God it made you imagine things, you didn’t even know from where the thoughts were coming but there was somehow no way to stopping them. Your view of Armitage Hux completely shattering and rearranging itself into a different image.

“It's just black coffee, Hux, I assumed you would like black coffee, you are like the embodiment of black coffee.”

“Thank you, that's very considerate of you.” His lips touched the cup in a cautious move before he took a sip, trying to hide his small smile but you noticed it, you definitely noticed it and you knew you won. You won Armitage Hux over with a simple gesture of kindness.

”Was it a compliment or?” You wanted to laugh and you wanted to see more of a happier Armitage from now on. You felt like you got closer to Hux at that moment, a possible friendship started to blossom between the two of you. 

“Who knows.” Shrugging, he moved on to finally fix himself a little, smirk still apparent on his lips complimenting his tired stare. In that moment you wanted to experience more moments like this and you sure were going to try.

********

Finally it was the day the board would either accept the project or deny it. You couldn’t sleep for two days prior and even before that you slept only around 15 hours in a week, you felt almost dead. Both of you, Armitage and you, were now staring at your notebooks, ready to receive the final answer to your now weeks long struggle. 

Armitage's notebook beeped, a notification sounding off, sending you flying across the desk almost into his lap, not even considering it could be a completely different email or even personal thing.

You and Armitage got closer, just as the both of your teams, over the weeks you spent on this project, countless nights together in the office seemed to harden your relationship even more. You had fun, Armitage was not only a hardworking perfectionist and handsome man, he was also very funny, like ridiculously funny in your opinion.

The email was long, like unnecessarily when it comes to formal corporal emails but the end of it was just so promising. Both of you skimmed over the words, searching for the phrases denied. There was none, the only thing in the end it contained was so sweet and wanted approval for your project, relieving you both of disappointment.

You were not sure who was the first, if you or Armitage, but now the both of you were jumping as high as you could while clinging to each other, a victorious hug. It could take only seconds or minutes, you squealing and Armitage yelling, hugging each other and jumping once again, but when it was over, the embarrassment in both parties was apparent. 

Anyone could come into this office at any time, it was not uncommon for most of the higher ranking employees to just not knock and barge in and if they saw the team leaders of the current biggest project in the company disheveled and out of breath, who knows what they would think.

There was a common understanding of this premise and so the following actions were understandable, while you tried to smooth your skirt down, Armitage did the same to his hair and also his tie. He was still out of breath and a bit flushed, his look of happiness making you warm again.

“You should trust your guts more.” And again with his disheveled appearance, this man was going to be the death of you for sure. And while he was busy sporting himself back into his usual calm and perfect form you had to admire how far the both of you have come. 

“Trust my guts? Armitage, I have a crippling anxiety.” Wholehearted laugh clawed its way out of your throat, making him smile. “That’s like the worst advice ever.” You continued still giggling like a little girl with your cheeks starting to hurt from all the happiness flowing inside you.

“I tried.”

“I appreciate it.” You gave him a small shy smile, your cheeks were still too warm for you to completely concentrate. “Thank you.” You whispered in the end.

“You are welcome.” Nodding fondly over this conversation, Hux gave you a smug expression, which you have completely missed because you turned your attention back to the documents you had to prepare for the next meeting.

“Even though you should be the one thanking me for my amazing advice.” Armitage chimes in, relaxed expression kept in place while he slightly nudged you in the ribs.

“Was it a joke?” Your face morphing into a shocked amused grin, you turned to him, observing the man momentarily. “Did Armitage Hux just make a joke?” You were not aware that Armitage Hux, the cold hearted redhead, could joke but you liked it and hoped it would stay like this for a while.

“I regret ever interacting with you.” You could see the slight smirk forming on Armitage's face when he spoke, unable to contain it. Since starting working on this project you and Armitage really got close, you would even call him your friend now. Yeah, he was still sometimes a cold prick but you could see the appeal of him. Handsome, smart and very passionate for his work with a decent sense of humor, Armitage Hux was definitely a catch. This project really opened your eyes when it came to him.

“You don’t.” Your elbow met what you firstly assumed would be a bony mass but in reality was well defined muscles under what you deemed was branded suit.

“I do.” He couldn’t fight the smirk off now. It was awfully obvious. The past you would probably be slightly horrified over the thought of Armitage Hux smirking. The picture of it being painted under the impression that he is obviously an evil corporate man. However, seeing him smirk now sparked something completely different in you. The silly picture of an evil man from a cartoon you used to hold in your mind when someone said his name was replaced with a charming looking redhead man in a suit with a warm aura around him. 

“Nah.” You felt silly, stupid and giddy over this man and how warm he made you feel even though everyone viewed him as a cold and mean man he never was. “You love it.” 

“Yeah, I do.” The stare he gave you made something carnal turn in you, it was not an alien feeling but with Armitage there was a new intensity to it. Red liquid heat pooled inside your belly under his loving gaze.

Oh.

“I-I have to go and- inform the team, you know- so they like- know and- stuff.” You titered a bit, unsure how to continue such a conversation. Did Armitage Hux really make your heart skip a beat now? First he jokes and now he makes your heart flutter, the world truly is full of wonders

.

“Yeah, totally. I-” He seemed absentminded for a second, something you could hardly ever see on the young team leader’s face. Everyone might talk about his cold attitude but no one could deny how dedicated Armitage was to his work. Even though you weren’t from the same department you knew long before this project presented itself in front of you, that he was the first in the office and also the last one to leave. His workaholism seemed even more prominent with his quick responses to your emails regarding the shared project no matter at which hour you would send them. It was something worth admiring and fearing at the same time. And now you were the one stuck in their mind and still staring at him. 

“Hey, would you like- to go for a coffee or something?” His voice cracked in the middle, maybe it was trying to stop him from continuing but he still pushed through, the final bits of courage sending him past the finish line, finally asking.

OH.

“Your proposal is acceptable.” You tried to imitate his voice, those words as a reminder to the conversation you had with him after the first meeting.

“Thank god.” The relief on his face was comforting to see. Armitage was really keen to go out with you and it made you happy beyond anything.

Bonus little bits with Armitage’s POV:

He really hoped he could avoid Ben this morning but luck seemed not to be on his side this time. Armitage and Ben have been friend-workers since they both started in the company. They actually knew each other even before since they both went to the same college. At first they were not awfully close, Ben liked to annoy the fuck out of Armitage while he was trying to enjoy his morning coffee, lunch or evening run. Basically destroying nice things he liked but somehow the two of them stuck together and formed a sort of friendship over some time. That of course didn’t change anything on Ben annoying him with every single ounce he had in himself, which was the exact reason he really wanted to escape him this morning. This perfect late morning, he decided to enjoy himself and to read in bed until it was completely necessary to go to work. He never did that but recent sunshine in his office seemed to brighten his life and mood all the time so why not to enjoy a slow morning, he was after all always on time for 5 years straight now.

Armitage could see Ben towering over the cubicles scattered over the big room on the second floor of the company building. Ben was currently laughing over something some brown haired woman said, Armitage recently learnt her name was Rey and Ben was incredibly fond of her. This information was obviously carefully and pragmatically locked down inside his brain to be used later if the time called for it.  

And so Armitage hoped he could silently walk down to his office without Ben annoying him so early in the morning, leaving him to reminisce about what today could bring him, especially if it was in the form of a cute co-leader he recently had the chance to meet. He was wrong, obviously, well not really, but yes, he was wrong.

The young redhead was correct when his thoughts browsed back to you and if you would be as cheerful in his presence as you were yesterday. What he however didn’t mean to summon was not only your attention but also Ben’s.

“Armitage!” And there you were, a sunshine smile and loud voice directing everyone's attention, including Ben’s, to yourself before they turned to see him.

He simply nods in acknowledgement without realizing his face was graced with a slowly spreading smile. Ignoring his previous distaste in morning conversation, giving her a small wave didn’t seem so annoying as greeting Ben.

“Well, well, well, who is trying to sneak by.” God, just his voice could irritate Armitage to death on most days but today it was exceptionally nightmare inducing.

“I wasn’t sneaking by. I was simply walking to my office.” He answers curly, not giving even a glance to Ben, his expression still souring into deadpan one.

“You should take your coffee with some milk, you are awfully bitter in the morning.” Ben sniggers, amused at his joke.

“You're the one who is quite giddy today. Did the board meeting yesterday go that well?” But Armitage is ready to fire back right at him.

“Nah, not really.” This finally got Ben to shut up and Armitage to go about his morning in silence.

******************

“I didn’t think you were the type to go crazy over a woman.” Ben’s laugh is loud and childish, echoing on the open walls of the main hall between offices. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The look he gave to Ben was one of his favorites, offended and beyond believe irritated. It was a perfect illusion for him to uphold, ‘cause in reality Hux’s mind was in a midst of complete panic but still he kept on his killer pace to his office, maybe to lose Ben in the big space where the rest of the desk of their subordinates was located.

How much does he know?

This thought however, stopped Armitage in his walk, contemplating if he should address it more. And finally where he was sure his tongue wouldn’t twist itself in his mouth when he spoke of you, he turned around. 

“You talk like a cartoon villain, you know that, right?.” Ben’s tall form was not leaning on the side of one of the tables , his gaze partly fixed at his phone before it’s lifted to assess the redhead’s reaction. It was deliberate, it was all planned out, a humiliating and uncomfortable situation Ben could trap him in easily, to get all the answers he wanted.

Now he knew he couldn’t win against that ridiculous giant, this was always a losing game. If he took it too seriously Ben would admit to only be joking, trying to get a rise out of him, if he continued to ridicule or ignore his questions Ben would only tease him more, a truly lost game in Armitage’s eyes. “God, please go and do your job.” But still he could try to collect any advantage he could get his hands on, the advantage being taking everything and shutting himself in his office until the end of the day.

-collects all his things and gets up to leave

“I am working.” Ben’s cheerful voice still followed him, digging into his back in a teasing manner. “No, You are not!” Armitage was aware how his voice boomed through the office making some employees turn their heads over the ruckus but Ben was quite oblivious to his friend’s voice’s effect. He actually couldn’t help but laugh at his friend for moments still unaware of the attention he was given by his colleagues hidden among the various desks in that room. However, even Ben was deemed to notice the confused look he was given by one of the younger secretaries over the small cubicle wall.

“Sorry.” His hands flew up in an apology or a manner that reminded most of them of surrender, before he decided to lift himself up from the desk and proceed to an elevator. Ben of course caught a glimpse of her, so familiar brown haired woman who was already entering one of the elevators. Feeling his chance, Ben's quick walking, caused by his slight embarrassment from the situation prior, turned into jogging when he thought he was already out of sight for the rest of his colleagues.

“Hi.” The elevator was empty except for the said brown haired woman, she looked pretty, exceptionally pretty. Well, she always looked beautiful and so to level the playing field, Ben put on one of his charming smiles before he glanced her way.

**************************

“You should ask her out.” This was coldly stated in the midst of conversation about going for a drink since both of the men’s projects were going to finish soon. The sentence positively stunning Armitage into a statue with a cold sweat pooling slowly down his back while his dark haired counterpart continued to munch on his sandwich.

“Ask her out or I will.” This time those words were slurred between Ben finishing the prelast bite and attempting to stuff the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. Ben’s tall form was stashed between the seating area and one of the tables, he was crunched over but no one of it helped to not make him stand out in the crowd of eating people with his broad shoulders. Ben always towered over everyone, except over Phasma from accounting actually, but everyone else was a victim to his high stature. It was almost comical just as his words. Still, Armitage fumbled with his hands, dropping from one the document he was reading while not being able to control the other, his grip on the sandwich slipping until it unceremoniously slammed in his lap and into the napkin he thankfully unfolded on it.

“What?“

“Ask her out or I-”“I heard you the first time.” Ben was used to Armitage’s cruel remarks or even interruptions but this was the first time he did so with such a vigor.

 “Why did you ask then?” There was a knowing smirk painted on his lips, the redhead falling into his trap one more time.

“I know you won’t ask her out.” This confused Ben greatly. What did he mean? The dark haired man adored teasing his pale friend on a daily basis but it was almost unheard of Armitage opposing him. He did attempt to oppose several times and it was not exactly as playful as Ben wished for, usually it consisted of Hux reminding him to get back to work and where is the fun in that? But this time, this time Armitage had something on Ben and he absolutely didn’t like it.

“Rey wouldn’t like that, would she now?” What was left of the knowing smirk on Ben’s face disappeared seconds after those words were muttered into the air between the two men. This time it was Ben who was left with red cheeks and ears, absolutely flabbergasted and fumbling hands with the wrappers of his now gone lunch.

************************

Armitage didn’t even realize how organized you were but now that he had the chance to see inside your office he was lost for words. Who would have thought someone like you would have neatly organized folders with color marked projects and spreadsheets for time management not only for your team but your work.

“You are awfully organized.” He truly was in awe at how your space looked. 

“Thanks?”

“I expected to find a battlefield in your office but it’s- surprisingly tiddy?” He didn’t mean tiddy, he meant a perfect, absolutely and adoringly perfect environment for him to exist, something that almost seems to be made just for him.

“That’s kinda rude, Armitage.” He was not known for making a lot of people laugh, maybe Ben but it was more of a laugh at his own account, with you it was somehow ridiculously easy, apparently.

“I was complimenting you.” He objects, trying to defend his honor, it was not in his intentions to come off as rude as it might have seemed. 

“Sure.”

 Again with the laugh.

“You should take it as a compliment. Organized people are h-,” he paused, gulping down his words until it weighed heavy in his stomach,”good.” 

“Good?” There was a suspicious smirk playing on your lips as if you knew what he wanted to say but Armitage almost sure you had no clue, you simply wanted to tease him a bit more.

 But God, what if you did catch his misstep? No, surely you didn’t. He gave you one more questioning look to make sure you were none the wiser. 

“Yes.” He had to clear his throat, to compose himself a bit by bit but there was an unbearable weight at his chest, almost too consuming. “For business. Organized people are known to be very reliable and hardworking employees.”

Yes, good. They are good. I totally didn’t mean hot. Because organized women are totally not absolutely hot. And I totally just didn’t realize it’s a thing for me. Ha ha. Please, act normal.

Armitage’s brain must have looked like a scrambled egg now, trying to unravel all his thoughts into a coherent solid state so he could function properly while unsuccessfully avoiding all his thoughts involving you and this office.

“Found it.” You held up a blue folder with a little yellow sticky note poking out of the main pages.

Oh, yes, the scripts for the main document, that’s what brought the two of you inside your office. That’s why he was now stuck between walls adored with shelves upon which sat dozens of cute plants. A complete opposite of his office but very cozy, it was obvious you decorated the room with a clear idea of making it a positive and comfortable environment. The purple sofa in the corner ideal for-

Yep, Armitage was fully aware he was fucked.

[rat-prophetess]

ASSIGNING PATHO CHARACTERS QUOTES FROM STOIC PHILOSOPHERS, PART 1/?? (EPICTETUS)

Daniil:

“Confidence (courage) then ought to be employed against death, and caution against the fear of death. But now we do the contrary, and employ against death the attempt to escape; and to our opinion about it we employ carelessness, rashness, and indifference. These things Socrates properly used to call tragic masks; for as to children masks appear terrible and fearful from inexperience, we are also affected in like manner by events (the things which happen in life) for no other reason than children are by masks… What is death? A tragic mask. Turn it and examine it. See, it does not bite. The poor body must be separated from the spirit either now or later as it was separated from it before. Why then are you troubled if it is separated now?”

Artemy:

“You say: “Philosophers talk paradoxes.” But are there no paradoxes in the other arts? And what is more paradoxical than to puncture a man’s eye in order that he may see? If any one said this to a man ignorant of the surgical art, would he not ridicule the speaker? Where is the wonder, then, if in philosophy also many things which are true appear paradoxical to the inexperienced?”

Clara:

“Why do you not know whence you came? will you not remember when you are eating who you are who eat and whom you feed? When you are in social intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, when you are engaged in discussion, know you not that you are nourishing a god, that you are exercising a god? Wretch, you are carrying about a god with you, and you know it not.”

Plague:

“Therefore, the philosophers say well, that if the good man had foreknowledge of what would happen, he would co-operate towards his own sickness and death and mutilation, since he knows that these things are assigned to him according to the universal arrangement, and that the whole is superior to the part, and the state to the citizen.”

Mark Immortell:

“Remember that thou art an actor in a play; of such a kind as the teacher (author) may choose; if short, of a short one; if long, of a long one… this is your duty, to act well the part that is given to you; but to select the part, belongs to another.”

Rat Prophet:

“Why do you care about the way of going down to Hades? All ways are equal. But if you will listen to the truth, the way which the tyrant sends you is shorter. A tyrant never killed a man in six months: but a fever is often a year about it. All these things are only the sound and the noise of empty names.”

The Kin:

“Who are you? A man. If you consider yourself as detached from other men, it is affording to nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if you consider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is for the sake of that whole that at one time you should be sick, at another time take a voyage and run into danger, and at another time be in want, and in some cases die prematurely. Why then are you troubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no longer a foot if it is detached from the body, so you are no longer a man if you are separated from other men.”

Oyun:

“Through an unreasonable regard to divination many of us omit many duties. For what more can the diviner see than death or danger or disease or generally things of that kind? If then must I expose myself to danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, what need have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner who has told me the nature or good and evil, and has explained to me the signs (or marks) of both? What need have I then to consult the viscera of victims or the flight of birds, and why do I submit when he says, It is for your interest? For does he know what is for my interest, does he know what is good; and as he has learned the signs of the viscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil?”

Utopians:

“… since these two things are mingled in the generation of man, body in common with the animals, and reason and intelligence in common with the gods, many incline to this kinship, which is miserable and mortal; and some few to that which is divine and happy. Since then it is of necessity that every man uses everything according to the opinion which he has about it, those, the few… have no mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves; but with the many it is quite the contrary. For they say, What am I? A poor, miserable man, with my wretched bit of flesh. Wretched, indeed; but you possess something better than your bit of flesh. Why then do you neglect that which is better, and why do you attach yourself to this?”