#this book is genuinely the only book that i've been interested in reading again

[celtrist]

This was a planned thing I had around the time I had this little rant (appreciate everyone who's bothered reading that thank you!)

Seeing as we have three canonically Asexual characters, I thought each of them having a different romantic orientation (and varying asexuality on the scale) would be fun and neat to show the variations to the orientations! But I was really stumped on Mammon since I was pretty set on Alastor and Octavia, but Mammon not being any form of aromantic didn't feel right, not terribly ooc, just definitely felt a bit more like "he's the leftovers" sort of thing when divvying up the romantic orientations. But lo and behold, the new episode of Helluva came out and helped solved that little quandrie. So here are my thoughts below on each!

Alastor (Loveless Aromantic) If you've seen my rant, you probably have a good idea why I labeled him as a "loveless aromantic" (meaning in this sense I'm talking about, he just wouldn't have any form of romantic affections or go into something like a QPR or the like). And I do genuinely think he would be! But I know there's A LOT of bias for Alastor NOT being aromantic (or at least open to some sort of relationship), and I will admit I might've been a bit biased here too! I've just seen a lot of love for only specific parts of the aro spectrum that "allows" Alastor to get with someone, and I wanted to give some love to the aro spectrum that gets little to no appreciation (plus I do just genuinely think he'd be this). If you don't agree, all is fair ദ്ദി（• ˕ •���.ᐟ The point is, I realize I'm probably in the minority here. Plus, it's all a guessing game more or less until something is officially stated, which probably will never happen for any of these three.

Anyway, like I said, I just don't see Alastor really getting as close to anyone even as a QPR. At the VERY LEAST, not in a QPR that has a lot of romantic parts to it (kissing on the lips, cuddling, etc.). My man wouldn't have any interest in marriage or anything romantic, he's very happy on his own and probably gossips about OTHER people's love lives. Then again, he seemed pretty close to cracking when he heard Charlie ranting about her own love life... With that said, I do think he DOES like the company of others, he's VERY social after all. But actually, getting intimate with someone? Mmm, that doesn't feel right for him to me. A kiss on the cheek or PERHAPS a cuddle here and there at most, but nothing like bathing with someone or kissing with tongue. He's also a man of the roaring twenties, so you KNOW how he thinks about intimacies that might have no romantic/sexual connotations by themselves (like bathing with someone) are romantic on their own just because being that close to someone was seen that way in his time. Plus again, I just don't think he'd be interested in that stuff as is (potentially he could be both touch-starved and touch-aversed. And oh boy, wouldn't that be a conundrum!) On one hand, I like and can see Alastor being sex-repulsed, on the other I can also see him just feeling nothing towards it. Considering Angel's "advances" in both the first episode and the pilot, he does have a bit of a strong reaction towards sex, but nothing crazy either. I can see him being lukewarm to the subject (so he could read a book or read a script out loud with sex in it), but he could be repulsed when it actually INVOLVES HIM. I can definitely see him somewhat annoyed with the subject for how everywhere it is though.

Octavia (QPR Aromantic) It's a little hard to pinpoint, but I can personally see Octavia getting into a close QPR sooner than Alastor, but maaayybe only be a hair. Octavia could possibly get into a platonic relationship with someone that would have remnants of seeming romantic. I do think she's probably the most sex-repulsed of the three, if in part because of her father's inclinations that he doesn't seem to hide even when she's around. Honestly, I feel like we still haven't seen enough of her to get a good grasp on this aspect of her character in if she would be interested in getting as close as to a QPR with someone. But I'd certainly like to think so, because damn does our girl need it. Her falling into some sort of relationship would probably be hard seeing as how her parents' relationship was so awful. So she could be hesitant about doing something like that.

Mammon He was the big toughy! And while his advances on Leviathan might have been meant in a more platonic way or just for show to go against Ozzy's and Bee's romantic relations, I'm going with what's there! So Mammon seems like he could be straight or bi/pan. But I don't have a hard grasp on which so I'm tossing that in the air. I don't think he'd be sex-repulsed just because of how "sex makes money". Like, there's no question that sex appeal is a big part of business even if something isn't even that sexual. So while I think he's not largely interested in doing anything sexual, I can see him being okay or even lukewarm to the subject, maybe just not getting the appeal entirely. Maaaayybe he's sex-favorable? Of the three I would imagine he would be the most likely to be sex-favorable, but I dunno.

I like the idea of Octavia being the only one aware as to what her orientations are. Alastor is... well he's Alastor, and Mammon doesn't seem like he'd be too interested in the details of things. Just that "there's straight, gay, and the between area".

[spookedeadfish]

INVISIBLE MAN IS SOOOO GOOD OMG I'M JUST

It's an American classic no one has read, it's one of the most timeless books ever, it's so accurate with its criticisms and arguments about society and its racism and bigotry that it's just aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa how has no one read it?????

"And my problem was that I always tried to go in everyone’s way but my own. I have also been called one thing and then another while no one really wished to hear what I called myself. So after years of trying to adopt the opinions of others I finally rebelled. I am an invisible man."

"I began to accept my past and, as I accepted it, I felt memories welling up within me. It was as though I’d learned suddenly to look around corners; images of past humiliations flickered through my head and I saw that they were more than separate experience. They were me; they defined me."

Genuinely something beautiful about this book, read it if you haven't, just give those first two chapters a chance. It's wholly unique and mesmerizing. "Being invisible and without substance, a disembodied voice, as it were, what else could I do? What else but try to tell you what was really happening when your eyes were looking through? And it is this which frightens me:

Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak for you?"

[afterglowkatie]

little starfish meets starfish | k.m/c.f.

katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader | 2k | how you got your name, aquarium visits and meeting your favourite sea creature

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of my new little starfish universe. i've had this written for a little while now with the second part already almost finished. first child!reader fic! so! i hope you all like it! (reader is katie's kid from before katie and caitlin)

‘Mammy, mammy!’ Your little voice rang out loudly throughout the car, ‘Did you know you like a starfish?’ Kicking your little legs around, excited to tell your mammy the new fact you’d recently learnt.

You’d become obsessed with starfish the moment you saw one in a nature documentary that had been on the tv at the time. Stars and animals were your favourite things separately, and to find out that there was a sea creature shaped like a star had blown your little mind. 

Since then Katie helped you fill out your room with all different starfish items, a little starfish night light, bed spread of sea animals that included starfish of course. You’d even begged your mammy to paint your walls blue with little starfish to match the glow in the dark stars that littered the roof of your bedroom.

One day your mammy came home with a colouring book she’d found, all different kinds of starfish and little facts on each page. Katie and Caitlin both helped you read the facts, soon enough you were able to read them all on your own. Proudly getting to tell them both all the new facts you learnt on each page.

‘Oh, am I now?’ Katie glanced back in your direction briefly before looking back at the road, an amused smile on her lips. 

‘Mhm,’ You sang out a little, ‘They got tough skin, keeps all the baddies away. Like you mammy you keep all the baddies away from the ball,’ Both Katie and Caitlin stifled their laughter at your comparison. They both loved watching you grow up and how your mind worked. 

‘You got that right, my little starfish, no one gets that ball off me,’ Caitlin rolled her eyes at Katie’s smug expression giving her a little nudge. You always helped inflate your mammy’s ego, even if you didn’t know it, you genuinely just thought that everything your mammy did was the best in the world. 

‘Mammy’s the best,’ You smiled proudly, repeating the phrase you had on the little sign that you took to every match. Caitlin had helped you make it, you wanted it to be a surprise for your mammy. 

Despite how much Katie tried, you weren’t that interested in football, only if your mammy was on the pitch. If she wasn’t then you’d have to have something to keep yourself preoccupied or you’d gravitate towards Kyra and Laia. They both listened to your random facts, Laia even giving you new ones every now and then, you claimed them both to be the fun ones and they’d always rope you in to cause a little bit of mischief. 

‘You know, little starfish, they’ve got little touch pools at this aquarium,’ Caitlin turned around in her seat to look at you. Your eyebrows scrunching into a little frown and your head slightly tilted to the side, the frown alone there was no doubt you were Katie’s daughter.

‘What's that Caity?’ You wiggled your feet a little, intrigued by what Caitlin was about to tell you.

‘Touch pools have different sea animals, like starfish,’ Your eyes widened a little upon hearing your favourite sea creature being mentioned, ‘And they let you touch the creatures in the little pools,’ Your eyes widened to the point they looked like they might pop out of your head, you thought what Caitlin had told you was the coolest thing ever.

Though a frown was quick to take over your face again, ‘Does it hurt them?’ You didn’t want to accidentally hurt something that you loved so much.

‘No, no. You just have to be really gentle,’ Caitlin was quick to reassure you.

‘Mammy?’ Not that you didn’t trust Caitlin, but you believed your mammy knew everything and if she said the same thing then you know that it’s the truth.

‘Little starfish, Caitlin’s right. Just be gentle with them, like how you’re gentle with Myle and they’ll love you the same,’ You beamed at the mention of your favourite dog, your best buddy as you call Myle, though you couldn’t say that to Steph but Calvin was a little too big for you but you still liked him.

‘We there yet mammy?’ You whined already wanting to be at the aquarium so you could see your favourite creatures. As soon as Katie stopped the car in the aquarium parking you were tugging at your seatbelt and kicking your legs trying to escape your car seat. 

‘Now remember, no running and stay close to either of us. We don’t wanna lose you,’ Your mammy reminded you while she was getting you out of your car seat. 

‘You won’t lose me mammy, you find me with the starfishes,’ You gave your mammy a cheeky little smile, one that you’d learnt from Kyra, though your mammy didn’t back down instead raising her eyebrow at you, ‘Fine mammy, can we please go now please,’ 

You liked the staff at the aquarium, they gave you a little map and a sheet to find different items within the aquarium and fill it out so you’d get a little prize at the end of the day. Caitlin helped you write down the answers while your mammy kept trying to wrangle you and make sure you stayed hydrated while you were running, no you were walking fast just like you told both Katie and Caitlin multiple times, everywhere.

‘Woah slow down little one,’ Your mammy scooped you up when you tried to run off, it was a blessing and a curse that you knew how to read and associate that the little starfish symbol on the sign meant that’s the touch pools and the place you wanted to go the most, ‘There’s plenty of time to see everything,’

‘But I want to see the starfish,’ You wriggled in your mammy’s arms but you weren’t strong enough yet, one day you will be, ‘Caity,’ Accepting your fate with your mammy, you looked towards Caitlin, your best pout and puppy eyes you could muster. You learnt quickly that Caitlin would give in to you more easily than your mammy, especially when their relationship was still new and she wanted to be on your good side. 

‘How about a little snack and then we can go straight there,’ Caitlin gave you a soft smile before tickling your stomach. Laughing loudly, as if on cue your stomach grumbled as well, making you laugh even more.

The stop for a snack seemed to calm you down a little, you were still excited but you weren’t bouncing around almost out of control. You held onto both Katie and Caitlin’s hands, they’d lift you up and swing you every few steps. They both loved the sound of your little giggles filling the space around them.

The little touch pools were quiet when you eventually got there, just you, your mammy, your caity, a staff member and one other kid and their parents. You held onto your mammy’s hand quite tightly while the staff member was explaining and demonstrating how to safely touch the little sea creatures within the little pools in front of you.

‘Would you like to try now?’ The staff member’s voice was soft and kind, but you still semi hid behind Caitlin’s arm. The emphasis on being gently and soft got to your head a little bit, you didn’t want to be anything other than gentle and soft but you were still a little worried.

‘You okay little starfish?’ Caitlin was the one to notice just how quiet you were, quite unusual for you, in that sense you were just like your mammy. You peaked one eye out from behind Caitlin’s arm to look at her while she brushed some of the baby hairs back from your face. You were still holding Katie’s hand, even tighter than before.

‘What if I hurt them, Caity?’ At the sight of tears welling in your eyes, Caitlin picked you up, sitting you on her hip. Rocking you a little and rubbing your back despite the fact you wouldn’t let go of Katie’s hand either.

‘It’ll be okay, just be gentle like how you pat Myle. We can do it together,’  You calmed down at Caitlin’s words, leaning your head against her shoulder while you looked down at the sea creatures in front of you.

You’d finally let go of your mammy’s hand, watching closely as Caitlin put her hand into the water in front of you. Your own little hand soon followed, dipping into the water and hovering above one of the starfish that was in the pool. Caitlin took your hand in hers and helped you gently touch the starfish until you were sure you could do it on your own.

Katie watched from the side, a wide smile on her face as she watched your eyes light up as soon as your hand made contact with the starfish. She watched a little bit longer, taking a few photos of both you and Caitlin together, it always melted her heart a little bit more every interaction the two of you had.

The longer you touched the starfish the more you were committing to memory the feeling. You didn’t really have much to go by when you were trying to think of how a starfish might feel beforehand, you thought since they lived in water then they must be soft and squishy, even though you knew the fact about them being tough but you didn’t really understand that until you got to experience it.

‘I did it mammy!’ Your hand was still dripping from the water while you turned towards her, a proud smile on your face.

‘Proud of my little starfish, what a cool experience,’ Caitlin let you down gently, a good thing she was holding you or you probably would’ve ended up in the pool with the starfish, you made your way to your mammy who picked you up. Holding you close while she walked you away from the pools, letting other kids have their turn. 

The excitement of the day quickly washed over you and being in Katie’s arms your body was more tired than you realised. Katie and Caitlin shared a knowing look when you let out a little yawn and rested your head face down on Katie’s shoulder. You were fast asleep by the time they made their way to the exit. Katie took you to the car while Caitlin picked out a few things for you from the gift shop, even if you were asleep they couldn’t let you leave empty handed.

‘I hate having to wake her up, she always looks so peaceful,’ Your mammy whispered to Caitlin, who agreed, before gently picking you up from your car seat and carrying you inside the house.

Katie sat down on the couch briefly, rocking you gently, keeping you asleep while Caitlin sat down the bags from today before grabbing your favourite pyjamas and filling the bath up for you. Making sure the temperature was just right, though the little starfish bath toys she got for you today can wait another day, she still made sure to put bubbles in the bath.

‘Baby, everything’s ready for you,’ Caitlin gently sat next to the two of you, leaning in quickly and softly giving Katie a kiss while wrapping an arm around her. Both your mammy and Caitlin sat there watching how peaceful you looked after a big day. A moment of peace your household got to experience, if it wasn’t for the big day you and Cooper would be zooming around everywhere, ‘I’ll get her water bottle and bed ready,’ 

Katie whispered a soft thank you, kissing Caitlin’s cheek before she took you to the bathroom, ‘Hey my little starfish,’ Your mammy was always soft with you, especially when she would have to wake you up. Though you were so tired you barely acknowledged the bath, barely playing with or noticing the bubbles. 

So Katie was as quick as she could be, wrapping you up in your soft shark hooded towel and getting you dressed so you’d stay warm. You woke up a bit when you noticed you had a new friend in your bed. You grabbed the new starfish plushie, smiling as much as you could in your tired state, holding it close to you. 

You looked to your mammy who gave a little nod towards Caitlin, which you understood, ‘Thank you Caity,’ You mumbled quietly before drifting off to sleep. Only dreams of your new friend in your arms and of the starfish you got to meet.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

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[vivalas-vega]

late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

hiii - feels like a long time since I've actually posted anything. this fic idea came to me kind of randomly - I've been seeing a lot of fics lately centered around making/having babies and I thought it'd be nice to write something angsty and fluffy catered to those of us who are childless and want to remain that way lol - as always, lmk what you think!

late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

word count: 3.5k

I do not have a taglist - if you'd like to be notified of future works please follow @vegaslibrary and turn on post notifications

warnings: mentions of periods, hints at termination (not said explicitly but it's there), talk of kids/pregnancy, angst and fluff !!

You shut the dishwasher before continuing to move about the kitchen as you cleaned up from dinner, one you would say was one of your best if you were going to toot your own horn, and your sights were set on the freezer for a little ice cream to go along with your movie before bed. You thought you should hold out, you’d left an invite open to your boyfriend to come here after his plans, but you decided against it. Ben and Jerry’s waits for no one.

You set it out to soften for a minute, pulling your planner from your bag to skim through your plans for the next day to make sure all your ducks were in a row and you were about to close it when you fixated on the date. “There’s no way,” you muttered to yourself, genuinely baffled by how far into the month you were. Your brow furrowed as you tried to comb through your memory but things had been so busy lately you were falling short so you switched to your phone and tapped on the pink app icon, eyes widening as you realized your first thought was true.

“No, no, no,” you sighed, walking to the bathroom with a quicker pace than normal and dropping down to look beneath your sink. “Don’t be expired,” you pleaded. To whom you were pleading you had no idea, but you breathed out a sigh of relief when the tiny text on the box confirmed you still had a while to use them. 

You checked the app again, scrolling back through the month and confirming what you’d hoped you’d misinterpreted the first time… but you hadn’t, you were in fact late. Ten days late. You had always considered yourself quite lucky, your period ran like a well oiled machine and your cycle was always twenty-nine days on the dot. Every so often you’d fluctuate, but only by a day, and for that you were grateful. You were always prepared, and you always knew if you ever fluctuated by more than a day it was cause for concern…

Ten days was more than cause for concern in your book, frankly as you stared at the test you thought you didn’t even really need to take it. You only kept them on hand because you were known for missing a pill here and there and you’d rather have to run to your bathroom in a panic than to your closest mini-mart, but you’d never truly had a scare before. You always assumed they’d expire before you got to use them. Oh, how wrong you were. 

Pregnancy was never on the docket for you. You knew from a young age you had no interest and frankly it scared you more than anything. You knew it was reckless not to switch to a more effective birth control, one that was foolproof and long-lasting but the pill you’d been on since high school hadn’t failed you yet so you’d put it off despite the fact that it had been on your to-do list. Right about now you were wishing you’d just booked the appointment and gotten it over with. 

You did the only thing you really knew to do at this moment and fired off a text to Natasha, your best friend for almost two decades. All it read was three simple numbers: 911. 

You heaved a sigh as you ran your fingers through your hair and chastised yourself for being so flippant. You knew you didn’t want this, and you knew the pill wasn’t perfect, especially not when you missed at least one per pack. Really, you’d just gotten lucky your whole adult life, and the fact that this hadn’t happened sooner was beginning to feel like a miracle as you really let the situation wash over you. You were broken from your thoughts by the sound of your phone vibrating harshly against the tile and you answered it before it even got through its first ring.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked in lieu of a hello. This was one of the many reasons you loved her and why she was still your best friend after all this time. Unless she was in the air or on the other side of the world, a 911 text was responded to in the form of a call in five minutes or less. You also decided to forgo a greeting and simply held up the box and her eyes widened, “no, are you serious?” 

“Unfortunately,” you sighed and she considered her next question carefully.

“Have you taken one yet?” You shook your head. “Okay, so it’s just a suspicion, maybe there’s not even anything to worry about.” 

“Ten days, Nat,” you replied.

“Oh shit,” was all she said for a moment. “Hey, you’ve been eerily regular your entire life, maybe your uterus taking a hard earned break,” she tried and you chuckled at the attempt to lighten the situation with humor. 

“Or maybe it’s growing a person,” you said and she rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t even taken it, you can’t get all doom and gloom yet. Have you talked to Jake?” 

“Should I?” you shot back and she just gave you a deadpan look through the screen.

“Should you talk to your boyfriend, the one who may or may not have impregnated you, about the fact that he may or may not have impregnated you?” she asked rhetorically. 

“I just… it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere if it’s positive,” you sighed. “We haven’t talked about it, Nat. He doesn’t know how I feel and I have a feeling it’s going to ruin everything.” 

“How could you know that if you haven’t talked about it?” she replied with that face that told you she knew she was right, because she always was, not that you’d tell her that. “If this was some random hookup I’d say absolutely don’t talk to them about it, but this is Jake… you guys are getting serious and I think you’ll feel better if you do.” 

“That’s the thing, we’re getting serious. This is still so new, what if I lose him as soon as I tell him ‘yeah if you stay with me you’ll never have a family’?” 

“First of all, I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this but definitely don’t say it like that. Second of all, if you lose him because your goals for the future don’t align then he was never really yours to begin with. It just means your person is still out there and so is his.” 

“I know that was meant to be comforting but the thought of him having a person out there that isn’t me is making me nauseous.” 

“Sure it’s not morning sickness?” she teased and you scowled at your phone screen. 

“I’m serious, Nat… I know it’s early and we’re just starting to settle into a groove but I feel like he’s it, you know?”

“No, I really don’t know how my beautiful and smart best friend winds up being it for Hangman, but you know I love and support you and all your choices… including whatever you decide to do if the test is positive. At the end of the day the final say is yours, but I think you should at least include him in the conversation.” 

“I know, I just… shit,” you were cut off by the sound of your front door and Jake’s voice letting you know it was him. “I completely forgot he was coming over.”

“Talk to him, even if it doesn’t go well it’s better to know now, it’ll only hurt worse later… and for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’ll be whatever worst case scenario you’ve concocted,” she said before you hung up and Jake was just walking into to bedroom as you exited the bathroom.

“Hey, there you are sweetheart,” he said with that famous smirk of his that was now only reserved for you. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips that you easily reciprocated, “you on the phone?” 

“I was, with Nat,” you answered and he chuckled.

“Swear you two can’t go four hours without checking in. I have no idea how you make it through deployments.” He’d tease but he loved how close you were, if you weren’t he’d never have met you. You would have never been dragged into the Hard Deck and he’d never have the opportunity to spend two long months trying to win you over. She’d swear until her dying breath it had been the opposite of her intentions, but Jake would always consider himself indebted to Natasha for bringing you into his life.

“Yeah well, she had to tell me all about your epic failure at the pool table,” you said and he laughed. It absolutely had not been the topic of your call, but you were glad she had been texting you about your boyfriend’s terrible game against Bradley as it was happening so you had something to say while you worked up the nerve to tell him what you were really talking about. 

“Okay, it was not an epic failure,” he said as he pulled his spare clothes from your dresser and began working on the buttons of his khakis, “but if it was, it was only because I didn’t have my good luck charm.” 

“She said you’d use some cop out like that,” you replied and he playfully rolled his eyes. He quickly pulled on his sweats and became acutely aware of how you hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, and the way you were picking at a hangnail on your thumb. Normally, you’d have already jumped into bed and launched into a rundown of everything that happened during the day but you were silent, unmoving, and about to hit bone on your thumb. 

“Everything okay?” he asked as he shrugged his shirt on and you nodded, suddenly realizing how off you were being as well. 

“Just a long day at work,” you answered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and you should have known he’d see right through you. He always did, even before you were officially together. Jake had learned you and all your cues in record time and nothing got under his skin more than when you tried to pretend he hadn’t… like you were right now. 

“Wanna try that again?” He sat beside you and put a reassuring hand on your thigh, and the simple action had you letting out a sigh. 

“I’m late,” you said and Jake just nodded. Most men would have asked late for what? but as you’d learned over the past several months, Jake wasn’t most men and he didn’t need to prod to realize what you meant, especially when you were this visibly anxious.

“Okay, have you taken a test yet? Do we need to go get one?” He kept his tone even and measured, not wanting to add any more stress onto your plate.

You shook your head, “there’s one in the bathroom,” you answered. He hated the way you were avoiding his eyes and the way you hadn’t stopped picking at your hands.

“Let’s take the test so we know exactly what we’re dealing with, and then regardless of the result we’ll sit right here and talk it all out… how does that sound?” he asked and you smiled softly but it didn’t reach your eyes. He was always proactive, any time something came up he immediately sought out a solution and you weren’t at all surprised this was his response.

“I think that sounds good,” you said as you stood, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here,” he replied and you knew from the look in his eyes he meant that in more ways than one. Seeing you stressed or overwhelmed wasn’t new for him, but this was something else entirely… normally you’d be frazzled over something work related and you’d vent to him and snap back to normal but you were completely withdrawn. He knew you were scared, frankly he was a little scared too, but he was suddenly worried he hadn’t made his feelings clear enough. There really wasn’t anything you could do at this point to send him running, and especially not this; he desperately wanted to know what was nagging at you so he could reassure it away.

You returned from the bathroom and took up your previous spot beside him, stick in hand, “two minutes.” you said softly and he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, whatever it is we’ll figure it out. Everything will be okay,” he said and you nodded but he could tell his words just rolled right off you, not sticking in the slightest. He thought it’d be best to stay silent while you waited, he’d be able to get to the root of it once you both knew exactly what was going on.

The timer on your phone startled you and you silenced it as you took a deep breath. Jake slid his hand through your free one and intertwined your fingers, squeezing reassuringly as you flipped the test over. Negative. You exhaled in relief and dropped your head against his shoulder and he quickly lifted his arm to pull you into his chest. Emotion tugged at you despite how you tried to keep it at arm's length, and eventually you succumbed to the tears trying to break free.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay,” Jake whispered, kissing the top of your head and drawing soothing patterns along your back. He continued to talk, low reassurances that weren’t quite registering but the tenor of his voice eventually calmed you down and when the emotions finally ran their course he hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. “Talk to me, what had you so worried?” he asked gently, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

You considered your options: you could say you were just terrified by an unplanned pregnancy and push past it, or you could do what you knew you needed to and be honest despite the fact you were somehow convinced it’d bring the end of your relationship. “I don’t want kids,” you blurted out and he was nearly as surprised by the sudden confession as you were.

“I- I never have, I… never envisioned that life for myself and I’ve never felt that thing people feel that makes them want kids. I know I’m like… broken or something, I know it literally goes against my biological nature to not want kids, I just don’t and I know that can be a deal breaker so I understand if you don’t want to stay-"

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he interrupted, his tone still gentle but not as soft as it had been earlier. “You are not broken. It’s perfectly normal to not want kids and you don’t need to justify that, to me or anyone else. This isn’t a deal breaker, sweetheart, I’m pretty convinced nothing is at this point,” he said and this reassured you slightly, loosened the knot in your stomach slightly.

“You don’t want kids?” you asked, your voice still timid and small. You didn’t want to ask but you needed to know, this was your one shot to get everything out in the open and make sure you were on the same page.

He thought carefully for a moment before answering. “I honestly haven’t given it a lot of thought. My life is so up in the air, literally and figuratively, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to picture slowing down enough to factor kids in. That’s not to say I’ve never wanted them, but I’ve never been attached to the idea.”

“Is it disappointing to know that if you stay with me you’ll never have that option? I don’t want you to have regrets or end up resenting me because I never gave you a family.” Jake’s heart cracked at the look on your face and the emotion thinly veiled in your eyes. In the back of his mind he knew this was coming from somewhere specific… At some point someone had made you feel like you were broken, had either said or made you feel like a life with you wouldn’t be enough without kids and he hated that. He hated that right now it seemed like you were just waiting for him to echo the sentiment and leave you stranded. 

“Sweetheart, if that test had been positive and you wanted to keep it I’d be thrilled to start a family with you, just as thrilled as I am to build a life just the two of us. I don’t love you because of your ability to provide me with a hypothetical family… I love you because you’re you, that’s always going to be enough for me.” Your breathing hitched as you processed his words, you literally felt the weight lift off your chest at the reassurance he really wasn’t going anywhere and it gave your heart the room to thud wildly against your rib cage.

“You love me?” you asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips and his eyes widened. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t realized what he’d confessed and he felt himself flush.

“Yeah, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it just now, or so soon- I do love you but this night has been emotionally overwhelming enough, please don’t feel like you have-“ he was rambling, and you were having a hard time keeping your enjoyment in check. 

Jake was a confident and assured man, it’s part of what drew you to him at first, but now he was a stumbling mess with crimson cheeks because he’d just confessed he loved you and you were sure he’d never been more attractive to you. Not when he sidled up beside you and bought every drink you ordered every time you were in the Hard Deck with that cocky smirk and those sparkling eyes, not when he boldly flirted with you every time he saw you despite Natasha threatening to have him shot out of the sky, and not when he threw an arm around your shoulder and called you his girlfriend with no real confirmation, he just knew you were his and he was yours. None of those moments of the smooth and charismatic Jake you knew compared to this sweet and bashful one in front of you.

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his in a searing kiss, knowing he wouldn’t stop unless you did it for him. He responded instantly and you couldn’t help but giggle as you pulled back. “I love you, too.” you said and in the blink of an eye he regained his confidence, pulling you back into him and kissing you like a man starved. 

“You just made me the happiest man on earth, darlin’,” he said, pecking your lips once more. “A life with you is everything I ever dreamed of. We don’t have to talk about this ever again unless you want to… I just need you to know that I’ll remain the happiest man on earth so long as I’ve got you, no hypothetical children could ever make me regret or resent you.” 

You felt the need to be closer to him and crawled into his lap to wrap around him like a koala, squeezing so tight he let out a strained laugh. “I love you,” you said again as he held you close.

“I love you too, sweetheart… Now what do you say we get some snacks and ice cream and decompress with a movie night?” he asked and your eyes widened as you pulled back, suddenly remembering what you’d left on the counter. 

“My ice cream!” you yelled, disentangling yourself from him and sprinting down the hallway to assess the damage and he trailed behind you chuckling the whole way… he watched you frown as you looked at what had turned into soup and you pulled out your phone, mumbling something about getting it delivered because there was no way you’d go without a sweet treat tonight. He was paying attention, because of course he was, but as he stood leaning against the doorframe looking at you with a lovesick expression on his face he was thinking about the future. 

He saw nights at the bar, you heckling his friends better than he ever could and getting away with it in a way he never did. He saw travel at every opportunity and nights-in just like you were about to have. He saw romantic dinners and fights and nights of endless passion — and maybe he saw a dog down the line. He saw himself putting a big rock on your finger and buying you a house with a porch swing out back because he knew that’s all you really wanted, and it’s there on that swing you’d watch the sun rise and set over the ocean and truly start to grow old together. He saw it all, the good and the bad, in a split second while watching you lean over the kitchen counter, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through your options, and he couldn’t help but beam. ‘As if I could ever regret a life with you,’ he thought.

[yazthebookish]

Hello my loves❤️!!

I've said that I do not intend to discuss anything HOFAS-related since I haven't read the book and I only know a few details I specifically asked.

But I read the beautiful, beautiful Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel Walmart chapter and I need to just gush about something. It's not the whole chapter but just small parts of it mostly relating to Azriel.

Disclaimer: I have no interest in engaging in ship discourse (annoy me and it's an immediate block) nor do I want someone to change my opinion because it will not be changed. I stick by what I read and interpret in these books and am quite happy and content with it 😉

⚠️ Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel Bonus Chapter Spoilers Ahead! ⚠️

And with each mile onward, she could hear Azriel humming softly to himself. The rolling, wild melody of "Stone Mother" flowed off his lips, and she could have sworn even the shadows danced at the sound.

Do you realize that the entire time Bryce was playing the songs on her phone, she made no comments on Azriel's shadows but towards the end when her phone's battery died and Azriel started humming to himself, then she made a note of the shadows dancing at his sound.

They did not dance to her songs, they dance to Azriel's humming and I find that so endearing!!

It proves my point again at the instances we get descriptions of Azriel's shadows singing are with positive connotations. Their dancing is not written to be nefarious or odd.

Pray tell, in the entire series when Az's shadows are described to be dancing, which scenarios triggered those actions? Mostly when it comes to Gwyn because if you search in every book you won't find a description of them dancing around someone except Gwyn. This is a point I've been making since ACOSF came out and I'll highlight them below:

• These excerpts are from Azriel's bonus chapter

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

Gwyn wasn't singing here, they were reacting to some silent music... which we can suspect as much is the mating bond? A bond Sarah described in ACOSF as music between souls?

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

His shadows sang in answer. We don't know for sure if Gwyn was singing or it was something else but I'll bet on the latter since she was training and one of his shadows earlier darted out to dance with her breath as if it heard some silent music. It still reaffirms to me that it can hear the music between souls, the mating bond.

• This is from ACOSF (pg. 623) and keep in mind this is post-Solstice/Azriel's bonus chapter

Azriel clapped his hands, and all the females straightened. "You'll work in groups of three."

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright,

"What do we get if we finish the course?"

Az's shadows danced around him. "Since there's no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn't bother to get a prize."

One of the things I absolutely love when it comes to SJM's romances is she creates a common ground for the couple and gives them some things to bond and connect to.

In this instance, it's not only about Azriel's shadows but the fact that he also is fond of music. He doesn't express his fondness through dancing like Nesta, he hums to the tune. He sings.

Who else adores music and sings? Gwyn.

Who made Azriel admit that he sings? Gwyn.

These are not a coincidental connections.

And the author is a big fan of music so I think it's such a beautiful connection to create between two characters that have had such a dark and tragic past and are still processing the trauma they experienced.

The chapter did not give us much in terms of ships or who is Azriel into, but it did elaborate more on Azriel's fondness for music. It did elaborate on the genuine reactions of his shadows which were sometimes always framed in a negative way.

It also kind of proved my cute headcanon about whenever Azriel sings, his shadows dance around him.

I honestly can't wait for his book!! But first we have to tackle HOFAS so look forward to my reading updates in a few days!

[weirdsht]

Another yapping session lol, I haven't done this in a while. Omfg tho, I didn't mean for this thing to be as long as I made it. I'm sorry shfgsidfhsfjgsdlg

By clicking read more you will be subjected to novel spoilers and my messy long rant about LoTCF. This is your warning.

I've thought about this for a long time but LoTCF is a fix-it novel. Not sure if someone thought about the same thing or if they have talked about it yet. But I've felt this way ever since I read about Kim Rok Soo's life.

After realising what he went through and just how hard his life is made me realise why he does the things he does. Why he has such a mindset. Why he values the little things other people would not even think about.

It made even more sense after hearing how he was collateral damage from the White Star's curse. How he can't hold the things he deemed dear close to him as he will always be bound to lose it. To lose them.

Lastly, it made me realise why the novel seems all sunshine and rainbows in the long run. Sure, there are angsty moments. Some moments and arcs made me bawl for weeks on end. Made me feel as though my heart was being ripped out of my chest (Looking at you earth lore). However, at the end of it all everyone on Cale's side is okay. It's like watching one of those old-school shonen animes where you know everyone will save the day with the power of friendship.

And I know I'm not the only one who noticed that. I saw a lot of discourse about how the series would be more interesting if someone actually died. If a lot was on the line. Something like ORV.

And omg does it piss me off so much.

Because once again LoTCF is a fix-it novel.

It's a novel about starting again. About Cale finally being able to hold and protect the things dear to him.

That's why it wouldn't make sense for him to lose more.

Plus, I genuinely think that if he loses one more thing important to him (non-material ofc) that would be his last straw. He has already been through so much. And it was because of something he didn't even have a clue about. Something he essentially had no business with if White Star just wasn't a greedy mfer.

I think some people also forget or doesn't realise the fact that this is also Cale's last chance. Like Ron and Choi Han who has lost their families several times and deemed their new group as their last chance. Their last family.

It's the same for Cale.

He already lost his biological parents. He already lost his brothers.

He can't lose his new family too.

That's why no one can die.

Despite that, as a reader, I am scared though. Scared at the lengths he's willing to go to protect his family.

Because this man has no self-preservation skills despite him always saying he has no plans of getting hurt or dying. I mean, I can't blame him for not knowing his worth. His life has been shit. He always had to go above and beyond to try and grasp the things he wanted only for them to still slip away from his fingertips. Like he's trying to collect running water with open palms.

And until now, even without the curse, he does the same thing. Because it's what he's used to. Maybe he subconsciously thinks that if his efforts dwindle a little he'll lose everything again. Not fully comprehending that it's fine now. That it's okay for him to breath a little.

Anyway, my point is I'm scared that at some point Cale will try to protect everyone and everything at his own cost. Will try to convince himself that he will be fine when he won't be. I mean I've already heard spoilers from book 2 and heard that's what seems to be happening right now.

I'm just scared that a point will come where Cale won't be able to come back from the decisions he makes in the name of protecting his family.

[specialagentartemis]

regarding your utopian book idea, i've had this idea for a story (in my head it's a tv show but lets be real it's staying in my brain forever) about criminals in a super powered setting going through a restorative justice system, and all the ways that it can be messy as hell.

Like their core belief of "if the worst mass murderer in human history (immortal OC) can take just one step back from the edge, anyone can, over and over again, and we have a duty to help them do it" is *true*, but it is not easy, or even logistically possible in some cases. And human cognition and psychology is so messy and it is human nature to fuck up and there is just. a lot.

anyways just wanted to share i got excited when i saw your post i too. like to think about things.

So many utopian stories I read (and granted, I haven't read a lot, but I've read several) are clearly aiming to imagine a nice and peaceful world, a perfect society one where we believe in restorative justice and all that... but utterly fail to imagine how it would work if it was populated with real human beings, so everyone in the story is incredibly homogeneous and Just Nice. There's no conflict because everybody does the right thing the first time - and if there is any conflict, it's quickly resolved through talking about it and everyone apologizes and makes up within 24 hours. No real differences of opinion exist, and nobody ever does anything actually bad.

It's frequently boring even at the best of times, and at its worst, it does the opposite of the "inspiring hope!" that it intends to do - it makes me cynical. It makes me think, gotcha, you think peace is only possible if everybody has the exact same attitudes and beliefs and personalities and holds no strong opinions because that's the only way to eliminate conflict. That doesn't inspire hope - if anything it inspires despair, because that is not going to happen.

So I would be so interested in a story like this, that takes on the ideals of restorative justice and rehabilitation head-on, that goes, okay, how will this actually work? When people do bad things - and they will - even in a society that raises and educates children to have respect for each other well, that has eliminated structural bigotry, that has eliminated capitalism and poverty, that has a flourishing artistic scene where anyone can express themselves, that has guaranteed food and housing and medical care for everyone with no strings attached, that has the enshrined right and structural support for people (including children) to leave situations they don't want to be in, that has most hard-labor and exploitative jobs replaced by automation - what is the actual response? Even in such a society, some people will still hurt other people. It will happen. There has never been a society on Earth where people didn't hurt other people sometimes. There will be people who want incompatible things. There will be resources that more people want than can have. There will be conflicts that need to be addressed and managed. And obviously writers aren't obligated to solve every world problem perfectly (if it were easy, we'd have done it by now), but attempts at writing utopia that simply go "no there won't!" are both boring and dishonest.

All of that is to say: I would love to watch this hypothetical show, to see a genuine attempt at grappling with such a theme!

[starchasersunseeker]

Wolfstar about jegulus {microfic, word count: 781} @into-the-jeggyverse

It was one of those rare moments when Remus had peace. He was alone in the dorm, reading a new book he had been dying to finish. Some book a muggle friend of his had recommended.

The quiet of the dorm room was disturbed by Sirius, who promptly started ranting about something. As he looked around the dorm, he noticed that it was empty apart from Remus. Noting that the boy was reading on his bed he quietly decided to join him. Sirius stopped by his chest first, where he took the Map out, murmured something and then sat next to Remus. They sat quietly side by side with their backs against the wall.

He tried to indulge Remus by quietly looking at the Map. He really did try. But he could stay quiet only for so long. His thoughts became too loud to contain, however, as he saw two names by the Black Lake, "Do you think they suspect anything?"

Remus kept his head down, still focused on his book, "Hm?"

"If they suspect anything," Sirius repeated. 

"Who?" Remus finally looked up. "And what are we talking about?" When he gazed at his boyfriend he saw a slight frown on his face. His lips were pulled to the side as he was lightly chewing at his cheek.

"Reggie and Prongs," he answered as he looked away from their names on the Map. Looking at Remus, he continued, "I've been trying to set them up. I'm not sure if they've figured that out, though..." 

Remus closed his book, putting it to the side "Why? I thought you said you would scare away anyone that even tries to get close to Regulus."

"And I bloody will!" Sirius exclaimed before pausing. His brow furrowed again. "Not James, though. I know he'd be perfect for Reg. That's the thing, I think they're perfect for each other." His lips turned upwards just slightly, "Balance each other out, you know? And I Know I can trust James with Reg. I know he'd never hurt him."

"Maybe they're just oblivious?" Remus suggested. He had seen James and Regulus together before, and it was not a question of 'if' they're compatible or interested but more one of 'when' they would actually do something about their connection. Their very clear chemistry. 

"What?" Sirius asked, startled. He didn't quite understand what Remus was talking about now.

"They're still not together, so maybe they just don't see that their feelings are returned?"

"Wait," Sirius was very confused now. And his face was contorted with a mix of emotions. Shock. Surprise. "You think they have feeling for each other?"

"I... Yes?" It was said more like a question than anything else. "I thought you saw how they looked at each other?" Remus wasn't quite sure why Sirius's face looked the way it did. Had he not seen it? He had been meddling with them long enough to have noticed. Surely.

"What do you mean? How do they look?" Sirius no longer looked surprised. Now he just looked confused. Very much so.

"Like they're all the other one can see." Remus explained. "Like how I look at you," he paused, his face fond and a small smile playing on his lips, "and you at me."

"Oh." Sirius paused for a moment. Processing the information. "Oh! So my plan is working!" Sirius's entire face lit up with a smile. His smile could light up the world, Remus thought. It did his, anyway. 

He chuckled at Sirius's antics, "Maybe it is. Why don't you give them time to sit on their thoughts and feelings, hm?" he said as he started to reach out towards Sirius. "They might just figure it out on their own," he pulled him in his lap. Threading his hands through his hair. He always loved doing that. And he knew Sirius enjoyed it too.

He sighed, "Yeah." Sirius's smile no longer took up his entire face, but was a smaller one. Not any less genuine though. "I hope they do. And soon," his smile got wider again and his eyes lit up with mischief. Teasing. "I want to go on double dates! Oh it'd be so fun annoying Reggie on double dates!"

That made them both laugh. When the laughter died down, Remus just placed a small kiss on Sirius's lips, "I'm sure it will be." And he was. He was positive they'd all have a lot of fun when that day came. Until then, he was more than happy to go on dates with Sirius alone. He quite liked it when it was just the two of them. It was a good thing they had one planned for that weekend. 

[delicrieux]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 | endless drabble series (autumn edition)

pairing—james potter x reader genre—very light enemies to lovers in the span of 5 mins xx summary—someone comes to annoy you as you read your book on the pier word count—2.7k

author's note: i've been on james potter spiral. won't elaborate

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open!

there’s absolutely nothing romantic about the way james looks at you – gaping maw and all, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose because he smacked his hand to the thin, wiry edge to lift them up and did it quickly and clumsily and for no reason – and if you assume otherwise, you’re an idiot. but you don’t assume otherwise, nor are you all the curious about the tangle of mush that could, perhaps, in a mind more evolved, be considered a thought. james can, you suppose, have decency, and he can, given the benefit of the doubt, appear thoughtful and tactful and, based on the information that came to dorcas in a dream, be serious about his affections. which he has none for you, just to be clear. in case the scene might paint otherwise.

what a curious sight it is on the rickety pier of the boathouse. the weather’s grown cold, near frosty, and the sky had long turned into something grey and woolen. the wind scratches at your ears, and at your lips, and james’ nose has gone red and so have his cheeks, and he looks ridiculous in his coat and burgundy sweater peeking underneath that you almost take pity on him. almost. though, if any of your friends inquired what was so ridiculous about him in that moment, you wouldn’t be able to form an answer that would appease them. james potter is simply too much – is that not fact? why should there be a trial to scrutinize your claim when the words are truth? yes, he’s ridiculous, and he’s stupid, and his hair is all a mess, and—

“i didn’t expect to find anyone here, to be honest,” he says after the long pause of nothing but glances and an understanding you haven’t figured out yet. when you’ll go to bed tonight and toss and turn, perhaps you’ll pick up the magnifying glass and recognize it as interest and be tremendously distressed and nauseous of that knowledge. now, you only worry for a heartbeat that’s just a tad too quick, “’s a bit odd, innit?”

“what?” your voice could’ve been like a whip in the air if only it wasn’t so hushed. pillowed by the cold that had frozen the strings of your syllables.

“you are.” he explains, a hint of teeth showing from his smile.

if you swung with all of your weight, perhaps he’d fall into the freezing waters beneath your feet and be so shocked that he would never resurface. no one would suspect you as culprit, since no one would see you escaping the boathouse, and you could, with great smugness, mourn with the rest when his disappearance is declared as demise. how positively villainous. he’s sitting close enough, you could try, but you know that, while a valiant attempt, he would grab you quicker than you could blink and drag you down to the depths laughing, like some deranged grindylow. a mirror-image in appearance, too.

“sod off,” you mumble, and seldom have you spoken words more genuine. you flip a page of an inconspicuous book borrowed from the forbidden section, intended to be returned, of course, once you had absorbed all it has to offer. not much, so far.

“there’s a library you can read in,” james says, scooting closer, because your personal space must be shared and perhaps he’s curious of the text that has commanded so much of your attention. he nudges your shoulder, and nudges it again when you don’t look up, “not sure you knew that.”

“was terrified you might find me too quick,” and there is some truth to that, but more so you were dissuaded by the idea of the librarian catching you. the book supposedly reveals archaic jinxes that went out of fashion – either too impractical or too dangerous – and the long-withstanding mythos about the book implies it discloses only when the shift in temperature is great. so you sit here, and freeze, and if you were honest enough you would tell him, and you would add that you like it here, even when cold, because it’s tranquil and the castle looks trapped in a snowglobe under the dome of the sky.

he snorts, “found you anyway.”

“have you nothing better to do?”

“not really. you upset?”

“hard not to be, around you.”

“flattered. and thankful. for, you know, the stature that comes with such an accomplishment—”

there you go, taking the bait and reeling in close. if your teeth chatter a bit as you speak, well, you were already blaming the chill, no? so let him think what he wants – a smirk tugging at his lips and eyes all lit up and giddy – and his face could warm you a bit. but then, it was your temper all aflame that might solve the problem entirely. and all you can think is, ridiculous.

perhaps his conversation isn't stimulating. perhaps the cold numbs your thoughts. or perhaps he is a pretty sight against this miserable, clouded backdrop, and so are you. a hand comes to the cover of the book, still flipped, and the skin brushing against the page is frigid to touch.

"you're freezing," he says, eyes trained on the book, and perhaps he really is talking to the cover. you wouldn't put it past him, "fancy warming up a bit? back inside, near the fire place in the common room. with company, for once. bet that'd be better."

"with your company, i take it?" you chime smartly.

"didn't i just say that?"

"hmm," is a reply given with a hum, and he only speaks again when his stare hasn't caused your skin to peel away.

"c'mon, then. there's nothing for you here but a bloody draft. come up now and we can steal butterbeers from the kitchen, if you'd like." there are an unnatural many suggestions, like he's grappling for a hook even when his expression shows nothing. he's usually less scattered than this, and he never considers your feelings in his very many attempts: 'come to the three broomsticks with me,' and you ask, 'why?' and he replies 'cuz i wanna drink.'

"no." you say.

"stubborn."

"willfully," and the emphasis is drawn out so maybe it sticks. you've dealt with him enough that his ramblings can hardly deter you, though, no matter how charming the prospect might sound, because you hate him. you've practiced saying these exact words in the mirror only to make them sound more potent. train your expression not to wobble, because no matter how unassuming james can appear at times, he strikes the moment he notices a slight hesitation.

he doesn't, because if he had, your hand wouldn't be clasping his so tight.

"fine," he nods his head, a huff of white cloud billowing from his mouth as he says so. his hand is equally as cold, like ice against your palm, but then his fingers wiggle a bit and lace through the empty spaces to properly intertwine.

"james?"

"they say sharing body heat is the quickest, y'know."

"unnecessary," you hiss.

"warm," is his only answer, and he inches closer so it's no wonder his face flushes like that. he's got his other arm around your shoulders, knee knocked with yours, "how long, you recon," he mutters, "before frostbite starts?"

"soon," you drawl, and if there's a small shiver running up your spine, then that's all the cold. nothing to do with the person beside you and how unabashed he is at his own closeness, and how warm he could be in this circumstance – when he was offered no objections, "if lucky."

a subtle lean in your direction, a nose buried in a scarf that smells faintly of cinnamon, is, at this rate, your ultimate surrender. how painful it is to do so, when pride swells like a bruise deep in your chest and the pain lingers. perhaps you can hide behind the flimsy veil of not caring and listen to the pace of his breath under your ear where his chin rests on your shoulder. if you were to look, you'd see a vague pout on his lips – chapped, but red, maybe even lovely.

"what are you reading, anyway?" he mumbles.

"history," is the quick and clipped answer. he doesn't deserve the details.

"not quite my subject. boring as all, i take it. does it at least mention me? history? dunno how anything goes without the noble house of potter contributions."

"noble? hardly," you state, "absolutely vain, though, obviously."

"begrudge me my blessings, but you love them," he chuckles and if you were feeling nice, you would say that it was warm enough that it chipped a tiny sliver of ice away. just a little. you settle for pinching his wrist, and are entertained to hear him wail a little.

he is the worst thing that's ever happened. the most tragic accident, and you just happen to have the most unfortunate timing. did he take a specialty class to master the art of pestering people? his eyes are big and hazel, and maybe it's because they are trained on that they seem a bit darker. absolutely repugnant. you'd rather die, and that is the truth. a death by looking. a tragic fate, a complete misfortune, an absolute bloody mess.

"you're blushing," he says, and if he had to bring it up, at least his voice is soft. no amusement, and he sounds just as fond as he is mystified, "thinking dirty thoughts? and on school grounds, no doubt. i am positively scandalized."

"piss off," the hiss is made venomous on purpose, and maybe you mean it. maybe.

"hope you aren't thinking too many about anyone else," this is the closest he has been to sounding thoughtful in any conversation, "that'd make me all sorts of bitter. wouldn't like that."

"of course you wouldn't, not when the possibility exists to bully me with the information," a huff, a quick exhale that clouds the air like his smile had before, and maybe he'd be charming, if only his intent wasn't as devious as it is.

"or i really just wouldn't like it," and how he dares to sound wounded with such a tender sentiment, and perhaps your insistence upon finding his ways less than humble could have come with a greater reluctance. as if you were dragged out of this, kicking and screaming. how utterly sickening his lips might taste, and your want has to be damned, so you don't look. and instead, his head comes to nuzzle on a shoulder with a knit scarf tickling his cheek, "wouldn't like it."

how utterly horrid.

there is no solution, really, and if you had looked, his eyes would've been heavy and his mind more so. it doesn't bother him, even if you are so silent – silent as stone – and his voice comes a bit thick, but he's smiling and he's always smiling like the imbecile he is. that you know he is. no one could fake the joy so pure that is beaming across his face. and what's worse, what is infinitely worse, is that he sees what must look like something far gentler in your expression.

"you're sweet," and if he is smug, you'd hardly noticed. a press of his lips at your temple, a warm chuckle against your neck, "and bloody adorable, too," because if there's anything that you couldn't handle right now, it's a heartfelt conversation. a damsel-worthy declaration, because, knowing him, he'd embarrass the both of you enough to melt a few inches of frost, and that just won't do.

"don't push it."

"or what? afraid you might lose the resolve to your no-nonsense-pretend-to-loathe-everyone act? and it was so brilliant, too."

"please stop talking," the whine could've been unbecoming if you weren't so desperate for him to silence himself, but, lucky you, "seriously."

"so hard not to when you are. how are you real?"

"questionable," you mumble, and this must be torture, except the prick hasn't pushed you, or grabbed you, or anything beyond holding your hand and wedging a cold nose into your scarf, "at the moment, i'm not entirely sure."

"miserable, aren't we? c'mon," and the only solution is to knock his head with yours, hard enough to make a noise that's audible over your hammering heart, and this time you give him the courtesy of seeing a brief flash of pain. and if you give him the curtsy of pressing your lips into his, well, he takes advantage of it and gets your hands. warm hands around cold, pale fingers, and a hum sounds into your throat and might vibrate all the way to the ends of your hair.

he's the bloody worst, isn't he? and somehow you're fated to know how terribly true the statement is.

"no, really, your hands are cold," he says softly, and the weather hasn't affected him. his words are sluggish and slow, like the pace of his palms on yours, rubbing and trying to warm them, and he might have a point, but he won't have the satisfaction of knowing that. the confirmation only came with another kiss, and how is that a deterrent? it really shouldn't be, "adorable, but i see frost on your fingers."

you roll your eyes, but for what it's worth, his kisses have an aftertaste of warmth, "my savior," your murmurs, and the irony is evident in how unamused the words are, "thanks."

"always at your beck and call."

"have i called?"

"many times," he presses a kiss to a wrist and another to your palm, and if his breathing warms the space between your hands then the problem's almost solved.

"in your dreams, perhaps."

"quite vividly," james has always had a glint to his eyes – an ambition, maybe, that shines brilliantly every time he's truly serious, but it's an intensity you had only seen a handful of times in him. so many wasted words, and how ridiculous he could be, how aggravating, and stupid, and wonderful, and in that instant, you think you could see stars, "but they don't last much."

"nice to know you've figured your issue."

"oh, hush." and the lips are on yours, and he smiles while doing so and you might melt away if only because the frost were forced into it. he doesn't open his mouth or let his hands do more than touch your cheek, your neck, with such gentility and no wonder your face grows warmer. it must glow in the evening air and you could be seen miles away, looking like an absolute prat, being adored so thoroughly. a long inhale before pulling away, but he rests his forehead against yours, "see? better, isn't it?"

"dreadful."

"sure, love." and it must be the first time the petname sounds endearing rather than mocking, or perhaps the frost in your limbs has really started to settle and the chill has worked into your bones, or perhaps his skin looks so bright under this awful dome and no one ever talks about the way his hair frames his face. maybe his voice has warmed you more than his hands. or perhaps he is softer and gentle with his affections and he isn't as mean as he claims to be or you insist. maybe, just maybe, you are secretly, obviously, terribly fond the brat and the starry eyed fool sitting next to you. more, or just as much, as he's fond with you.

"can we go back to the castle now?"

"no."

"cold out here," he reminds.

"so i've heard."

"i could help you with that, though."

"thought you already are."

"amazing," a new kiss, quick and chaste on a corner of your lips, "this has got to be a new record of no arguing. good. i can't believe, for once, that all it took was a kiss and some, like, a minute or three of talking, and i would've done it earlier, too. probably."

"don't think too much of it."

"i will. warm-up?"

"what?"

 "kiss me," is that impatience in his voice or the beginning of a tantrum? either way, when a something isn't instantly granted, it prompts a series of groans and complaints that surely rival the level of insufferability james has attained through the years. his head rolls onto your shoulder and you feel his voice against your neck. a hum, "you really, absolutely, one hundred percent have to."

 "i never signed up for such a deal."

 "you did. c'mere."

thank u for reading <3

[dippable]

autism and media. spoilers for criminal minds, my hero academia, and dungeon meshi.

okay so, i'm an autistic person, and i've seen portrayals of autism (both implied and explicit) and they've had.. a range of quality overall.

in explicit examples, i've seen only a few. spencer reid comes to mind first- the autistic savant with an eidetic memory and a penchant for seeming robotic. i, personally, was heavily influenced by this guy- i did (and kind of still do) enjoy criminal minds after all. however, spencer's existence as one of the first explicitly autistic characters that was seen by a wider audience. the show was insanely popular, but in the later seasons (mainly after he was sent to prison) many of his autistic traits seem to fade away. of course, he is a traumatized man who was on high alert for a WHILE, but one would expect he wouldn't lose many of his core personality traits. personally, i think these were written out since his traits weren't seen as "popular", since autistic people can offend those they love or say the wrong thing on accident and it seemed too weird.

second, my hero academia. i don't think any of these characters are explicitly autistic, but i haven't watched in a while. mainly, i see deku and tamaki as autistic (although bakugo, aizawa, and shigaraki are.... suspicious) and i believe my views on these two are mainly influenced by the rest of the fandom, so here goes. overall, i think the characterization of these two lends itself directly to their emotional or anxious nature. most media i see with one or both of them severely dumbs them down to these traits, with tamaki getting the brunt of this treatment. most don't seem to remember that both of them are strong for their age, smart, and have faith in their quirks. even if tamaki might seem pessimistic about fights, he's just that- pessimistic. he's much more inclined to believe he'll lose because if he does, he's prepared to do what he can to help whoever comes after. deku is emotional, yes, but who wouldn't be? he's a teenager who's been told over and over again that he's a failure and he'll never achieve his dream, and suddenly, he's being helped by the #1 hero to become the person that he thought was unattainable. i think horikoshi's representation of them is alright, it's just mainly the fandom that compresses them into "uwu anxious cinnamon rolls too sweet for this earth" instead of remembering they're multifaceted characters, and damaging their own interpretations of real people in the process.

in dungeon meshi, i don't know if they're explicitly autistic (however laios and falin are HEAVILY HINTED AT so.) but the representation of autism here is incredible. in the series, we see laios fuck up with shuro (and, notably, we see the fandom sweep it under the rug because laios is white) while he has real, genuinely close relationships with others (marcille is like a sister to him, and chilchuck's his best friend) so we know he is a multifaceted character. he's also tied to the tendency of autistic people to be interested in fringe interests, or alterhuman circles. he thinks (like many others) that he's weird enough to people, so he throws all caution to the wind and goes all-in on being weird. i know that when i realized i was "too weird" for others, i just stopped caring, and that's how i got into many of my favorite things- like OFF, house of leaves, etc etc. if they thought i was weird then, i don't really want to know what they think i am now, especially since i'm out here playing obscure meta rpgs or reading books that require me to flip them around.

overall, i think the representations of autistic people in media have a long way to go. there is still a critical shortage of autistic poc in media, and many representations of autism are still influenced by the savant stereotype we see with spencer reid (see: the good doctor) and there's still a variety of symptoms that haven't been shown accurately yet. i'm very proud of where we've come, though- now, i can see an incredibly accurate portrayal of myself in laios, but there's still many autistic people who haven't seen someone they can relate to on the silver screen.

[soracities]

HOW do you read so much ?? i'm genuinely curious teach me ur ways </3

anon i promise the most recent book i read took me 6 months to finish and the one before that was another 6 months despite being less than half the length--i have a lot of disparate readings that i post from but they don't all occur over the same period of time in the least.

and in all honestly reading, for me, is not about how "much" i read anymore but on whether or not i'm enjoying what i am reading and if i'm being true to my own pace, impulses, and interests as i do so: measuring books in terms of a checklist or reading for the sake of appearing "well-read" or because you think you have to speedrun your way through 6 hardbacks a month to qualify as a true Reader™ (which is an utterly ridiculous title because It Does Not Exist) will only put a great deal of pressure on yourself and in the process actually rid you of the joy of reading in the first place (i say this because i've been there, many many moons ago).

if you want to establish reading as a habit for yourself, the best thing i can advise you is to first of all: go at your pace--don't throw yourself into books you feel obliged to read but find ones that give you the most joy to begin with. how easy it will be to establish a reading routine will depend on a number of things--what you are used to reading and how you are used to reading things (and this in turn can also be affected by things like social media and how much time you spend there) and also what your own schedule and time constraints look like. i think the easiest way to start is to just set yourself a limit of 5 minutes: for 5 minutes straight you read, and then when those 5 minutes are up, you go for another 5. once those 5 minutes are up you go for another 5 again. it's a very manageable low-pressure way to begin and in the vast majority of cases you don't even realise when your 5 minutes are up once you get into the flow of this.

you can also pick a workable number and incorporate that into your day-to-day life: if you take a number like 20, for example, you can then decide to either read for 20 minutes or read 20 pages before bed. alternatively, have a no social media day and in the open space that gives you allow yourself an hour or 30 minutes (or whatever works for you) with whatever book of your choice (you can also use an app like Forest to stop you getting distracted by your phone). at the end of the day i think the main thing in building a reading habit is that you center your own pleasure and also, once you find a routine that works for you, to stick with it--i think social media is disastrous for attention spans on the whole unless you're very careful and intentional about what you do with it and how you use it, and it can be very difficult sometimes to adjust to the quietening that reading forces on you in comparison to scrolling through tiktok or ig.

in any case though, i hope some of this has helped you anon, even if only a little x

[jellolegos]

you mentioned that palaeography in hotd can be considered your special interest, yet the only thing i know about it is that it studies writing in historical context

SO please tell me more?? was it high valyrian that sparked the interest? if it was, what moment did? and has grammar changed over the years? does it have an interrelation with cultural events? i will read literally anything you would like to ramble about

genuine curiosity of a linguistics major

and, cannot miss a chance to say, your art is absolutely utterly stunning :)

thank you in advance!

Oh of course! My apologies, I think I may have been misleading, I've mostly been interested in the type of script they are using in the show. Unfortunately I've always been a bit more numerate rather than literate (as I am certain you'll pick up on as you read my writing, it has never been my strong suit) so honestly I haven't a clue about linguistic aspects! But, I believe the creator of the languages in the HotD/GoT universe is actually on here, his blog is: @dedalvs :)

Mostly what I meant by 'Palaeography' is since we have such a lovely opportunity to see book pages in HOTD I've been very much interested in what script model the artist was attempting to imitate.

I, I think like a lot of other hobbyists of niche interests, am always interested to see what gets translated from real life to screen. Just as I'd imagine you're interested in the conlang aspects of HotD! So I've been really interested to see what they're trying to do with the books in HotD. Without futher ado...

Hotd, Palaeography, and a Needlessly Thorough Examination of a Manuscript Page

All manuscripts I talk about here have clickable digitised links, so if you want to take a peep beyond what I talk about, feel free. They are really lovely manuscripts!

Disclaimer before the yapping commences that I am a Pre-Conquest gal and most of what I'll be talking about is Post-Conquest, and also that my research at a graduate/post-graduate level has been more involved with manuscript materiality (which I am again, happy to talk about, just not on this already-overly-wordy ask), rather purely palaeographic pursuits.

I should also say that none of this analysis is significant for any reason relating to the plot; this is just an examination of the prop art!

Also I am definitely NOT an expert in any way, shape, or form, so there are absolutely things I am missing here, there, everywhere... you have been warned.

Onto the yap...

Explaining the Frame

Before I fully get into it I think it is a little bit important to establish why historians study scripts at all. In a modern world, where writing is ubiquitous and literacy rates are high, it can be sometimes hard to understand why scripts are historically consequential (and why Pre-Reaganite/Thatcherite austerity, there were such things as tenured Professors of Palaeography!).

I think the best way to frame this is to use an example:

Above are two paintings. They are depicting the military action and are created with the same tools and by artists living in the same century and a half and in broadly the same geographical location. Now, if I were to say something like 'These are both paintings of military actiom, therefore they are the same', technically I wouldn't be incorrect. But I would be missing a huge component of these pieces!

In other words, just like painting, the form is just as important as the content itself; a scribe does not simply choose to write differently one day to the next but rather scripts, like any other art form, are nuanced and just as worthy of study as the actual text itself. As vehicles of text, how that text is manipulated, displayed and otherwise portrayed, can often tell us (as historians - amateur or not) a great deal about the surrounding historical period.

So something that is important to remember as I describe what is essentially, font analysis, is that the value placed on said font in an academic context is the result of historical weight placed on script that is almost entirely alien to a world where I can easily swap between Arial and Papyrus.

So, what script do they use in the HotD manuscript??

I can tell you its most certainly attempting to imitate a form of textualis. As one of the most profuse (spatially and temporally) script models, I would say it's a great choice. I think it the popular conception of manuscripts (what a manuscript should look like), this is what people would probably choose precisely for that reason! Textualis is/was popular from the thirteenth through the fifteenth centuries across Europe.

MS545 -14thc.

It was developed as a documentary script (aka used for documents, such as charters) but came to be used more often in prestige non-documentary manuscripts (like liturgical volumes, or conceivably, like Nymeria's history).

A charter with the seal intact from Magdalen College, Ox

It comes in different forms called 'grades', what those 'grades' are really depends on which scholar you want to follow. From my teaching, they are precissa, quadrata, semi-quadrata, and rotunda (from highest grade to lowest grade). Without getting into too much detail, different grades of textualis are often determined by the shape of the minims (aka bottom of the letter).

(Clockwise from upper left: Precissa [all letters are terminated neatly at the baseline - MS233 -14thc], Quadrata [all letters have little diamonds at the bottom - MS545 -14thc.] Semi-Quadrata [minims with intermittent attempts at feet - MSStowe17 - 14thc] Rotunda [rounded out minims - MS Add. 2. 263]).

Part of the reason this distinction is made, both between different grades of textualis and also between scripts used for documentary text and those used for non-documentary text is because manuscripts were/are valuable objects. It will obviously take longer for a scribe to diamond off every. single. minim. than it would for them to have letters flow into each other.

Something that is often forgotten in our modern period of relative book ubiquity is that manuscripts were objects subject to market forces as much as they were art pieces or vehicles of text. All things 'manuscript', from the scribes writing it to the pigment and vellum, were subject to various degrees of scarcity and luxury (which is actually what my research is about!). Below is an example of a scribe advertising their different grades of script.

MS e.Mus 198* - 14thc.

A closer look...?

Beyond just going 'yea they kinda look similar!' (deceptively, a lot of what manuscript scholarship is, lol), I can pull out a few things point me in the textualis direction. Let's take a look at the shapes of 'O' 'N' and 'G'. Our 'o' here is distinctively six-sided, which is also present on the main body of the 'g'. The 'n' similarly has a pronounced parallel line shape, with tapering on the curves.

Generally textualis has a very compact look with attention to downstrokes and neat parallel lines creating almost a 'box' effect with the x-height (aka how tall the x's are). I'm not sure how best to explain this but there is a keen dynamism in different parts of the stroke, with drastic differences in width between various parts of the ascenders/descenders in a letterform. The thick and thin elements of a letterform (such as the short corners on the 'o' or the often hairline strokes that connect the upper loop on an 'a' to the bottom loop), are really exaggerated in these scripts in a way you don't see with other earlier or later scripts.

For reference (an oversimplification to be sure, but a helpful one! Note that some of these scripts are geographically restricted, used only in Insular or Continental scribal environs)

^ Here are some real life examples of those same letter forms (L to R - LPL MS209 13thc, LPL MS75 13th c , LPL MS545 14th/15thc,)

While textualis was one of the more popular script models, other scripts were also popular in England at this time (roughly, lol). Anglicana and then Secretary hands rose to prominence, as you can see they look quite a bit different from textualis.

(MS Ashmole 35-15thc.)

These were considered lower grade scripts, used more often for documents as they can be written more quickly (important when you have many things to write!). So if we were able to take a peek at some of those scrolls that are in the Dragonstone Library, maybe we'd be able to find HotD's equivalent.

There is some crossover between these scripts and some sticky stuff about regionality, I know very little beyond surface-level, so I'm just going to point you to the resources I linked at the end.

Am Dipl. Dan LX- 15thc. with some other ones

The broad point is that textualis is most certainly a major mediaeval script, one I believe served as reference for the HotD manuscript, but it was not the only one present during the high middle ages. Now... would this script have been used at all during the succession wars that served as HotD's inspiration...?

Inspiration and Historicity:

If we're going on what scripts would have looked like in the period of the Dance's inspiration (Empress Mathilda), I would say this particular script is a bit late. Textualis reaches its more formalised state beginning at the end of the twelfth century (really, the thirteenth but..), so a little early for Rhaenyra's/Mathilda's 1115. Instead, assuming that this is entirely like our own mediaeval period, we'd be looking at the script that precedes it, called protogothic. Here are some examples:

(MS Digby 83 - 12th c England)

(CC MS 95 -12th c England)

A vernacular hand (aka. non-Latin, here old English), may look a little different. Here's one example, in what I would call Anglo-caroline script. Again, just like our documentary/non-documentary, purpose, and cost factors weigh into the script model chosen for a piece of text, so does the language (although Anglo-caroline was not restricted to vernacular!):

(MS 180, 12th c England)

You can probably see how the more formal textualis is an evolution of protogothic, rendered more professionally as the high middle ages came to pass. There is definitely a lot of interesting discussion about how script models take hold as lay literacy rates increase, as scribal practice begins to move from monasteries and limited courtly settings to 'professional scribes', but I won't get into it here.

The Critique (that no one asked for):

If I had to give an artist who did the HOTD prop a few pointers (my opinion that they definitely didn't ask for + I think they did great overall + mandatory 'script is highly variable, some of these pointers may not apply'), I would say the following:

1. Textualis in the real world, generally but not always, tends to have a two compartment 'a', it retains this from protogothic which in turn stole it from Anglo-caroline. Scripts in England prior to Anglo-caroline (which was a combination Anglo [English/Insular] and caroline [Continental/Carolingian] - see timeline above) more often used single compartment 'a's, so the dual compartment is a bit of a bigger deal.

MS Douce 366- 13thc

2. 'S' letterforms in textualis tend to be very compact. They often come in two shapes, the 'long s' and our more familiar 's' shape. In both forms there is attention to maintaining a compact figure, so when you have an entire page the x-height is strictly adhered to. By having some extra little whirly lines, the page image in the HotD manuscript is less neat overall. One exception tends to be sentence-initial 'S' letterforms, which are exaggerated because they start the sentence.

MS Bodl476- 13thc

Above are three 's' letterforms, spelling 'zacharias. Susci-(tavit-cutoff). We finish 'zacharias' with a familiar s. The next sentence starts with an exaggerated word-initial 's' which is purposefully larger and with significant spurs to signal the start of the sentence. Finally, we also have a 'long' s which looks like an l with an overhang, or an 'f' without the cross. You'll notice that the first 's' does not exceed the height of anything else in the word. Similarly, the 'long' s generally fits with the aspect of the script model, made with a thick downstroke. Only the second 'S', which is the largest, is purposefully flared to start the sentence.

On rewatching, we do get something similar-ish to majuscule letters to start sentences on other pages

It may seem a little silly, but I think the HotD script lacks this same internal logic and the flairs, which aren't technically incorrect, work against the overall appearance of the page, rendering it messier.

3. Some addtl. silly ones: 'i's in textura are not frequently dotted, those marks above letters are abbreviation marks e.g. p(er), domin(us). 'T's are usually crossed at the top rather than the middle until the late mediaeval period (again, carry over from previous scripts). Plausibly, it could look like this one from the lower Rhineland, which is less attached to that compact look overall:

MSDouce 185- 14thc.

But you'll notice a few things. The 'i's are marked with hairline marks (Michelle Brown calls these 'a light serif'), not the big dots we get with the HotD manuscript, and those 't' bars are really pretty high with exception where one letter flows into the next ('noctis' and 'peste' in line 1, 'est' with a long 's' is one I also often see with a high t bar).

A lot of this criticism on the letterforms, which is most certainly very annoying (who really gives a fuck), again just comes down to the fact that all historical scripts had an internal logic to them, and so these tiny tweaks could make the page as a whole look a little better.

4. There appears to be a great deal of space (imo too much) between the lines of text. Vellum is expensive! Even when there is deliberate space left empty in manuscripts, its not generally between the lines of text; the goal is to be relatively economical with your space, keeping significant breaks in text for mostly 1) thematic changes (ends of chapters, verses, etc.) 2) poetry lineation 3) dramatic visual effect.

(MS 52 - 9thc, - notice how space is filled with punctuation and drawn out terminal strokes to keep the diamond shape [dramatic visual effect], MS218 - 10thc. [poetry lineation])

5. Very very annoying but: in my opinion would be very difficult to rip a manuscript the way that Rhaenyra is able to. There is a very good reason why we have so many manuscripts from 1400 years ago, and that is because those things are BEASTS. There's definitely a phenomenon of survivorship bias, but any royal manuscript would be made with a well prepared skin and would be very difficult to tear.

I am aware that the very clear message of the scene is Rhaenyra's disregard for history and norms (literally ripping apart the annals of history with her bare hands), I wonder if we could have the same effect but with Rhaenyra pulling out a pen-knife or the like. She would still be destroying the manuscript, just with the weapons of war rather than with her hands.

Example of embroidery to repair a manuscript (Morgan Library)- Again, absolute beasts compared to modern books.

On manuscript physics...We also see one of the manuscripts have this wild separation between the text block and the spine:

Unlike modern book manufacturing, manuscripts usually have a very solid connection between the text block and the spine. This might be harder to verbalise than it is to show, so...The House of Stopan has lovely videos of the process, which I will be stealing for example here. Pages are sewn together on "cords":

Those cords are then cut short and frayed, then pulled through the book boards (which were usually actual pieces of thin wood, here however he's using a thicker cardboard). They're then glued to the boards.

A piece of leather (or other material), is then draped over and glued to the spine + on the outside of the boards. Those points of elevation on the spine, which I've seen added for purely aesthetic reasons in modern books (such as collector's editions), in manuscripts are actually the leather being smoothed over and shaped to the cords underneath.

The leather/material is prepared specifically so it conforms to the text block beneath. Pieces of thin cardboard or supporting material may be added between the cords on the spine.

If we take a look at this intact 11th c. Greek binding (sorry, only one I could find available!) you can actually still see the cords. In other words, I believe that an entire separation of the text block from the spine wouldn't really be plausible with a high grade manuscript (such as a courtly copy). I am no expert on manuscript manufacture, but within my knowledge of bookmaking, it stood out to me a bit! Happy to be corrected on this one especially :]

MS1175- 11thc

6. If I had to make one final note, so much of the series emphasises the fact that this is 200 years before GoT. There are attempts to archaeise various aspects of the keep and the armour. I would personally choose a script model that is a little older. I think there was probably a choice made about how accessible they wanted the manuscript text to be (so that dweebs like myself could actually read what's on the page), and I think using a slightly older script model like uncial/half-uncial would still reach that benchmark while appearing 'older'.

The Rushworth Gospels- 9thc.

Quite strangely enough Merlin, for all its historical inaccuracy actually does a really good job of hitting most of those notes I mentioned above (two compartment a's, neatly written 's's, etc.). Whether this would've been the actual script model used in Merlin's actual period is a whole different thing... and actually closer to my research interests!

As I mentioned at the beginning, I am not an expert in any sense of the word. For further reading you can check out Guide to Scripts Used in English Writings up to 1500, Cambridge History of the Book in Britain Series, A Guide to Western Historical Scripts from Antiquity to 1600 (although the plates kinda suck ass so beware.. the tragedies of photocopy technology), as really lovely books/series if you are interested! I find them to be very approachable reading for specialists/non-specialists alike and they are written by really the people who actually know about these things.

Scene.

[jewishcissiekj]

Since Asajj Ventress appeared in recent media and is set to appear in future shows and Star Wars content, I've seen a lot of people starting to read Dark Disciple. but besides that book, there are so many stories featuring Asajj over her 22 years of existence. So if you are looking for some recommendations and entry points to Asajj outside of the TV shows, here are some recommendations to get to know her a bit better, in both the Canon and Legends timelines:

(for anyone looking for a definitive list of everything she's ever been in, I also have that)

for anyone looking for just the list of recommendations without all my babbling, scroll down to the bottom, it'll be there.

Canon

Dooku: Jedi Lost Audiodrama - Script by Cavan Scott, preformed by full cast (also available in Script format) Starting off, this masterpiece. Telling the dual story of Asajj and Dooku, Jedi Lost is genuinely some of the best Star Wars content out there, in my opinion. Taking place early in The Clone Wars, it tells Asajj's journey battling her ghosts and uncovering her Master's history. It requires only the context of the prequels and The Clone Wars, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who likes the Prequels, Dooku, or Asajj.

Brotherhood - by Mike Chen Continuing with the book that serves as an introduction to Asajj in canon (chronologically), Brotherhood presents an interesting take on her first meetings with Anakin and Obi-Wan. She's far from the main character here, only supporting the book's plot as the villain and the initiator behind some of the troubles Obi-Wan faces on Cato Neimodia. This Asajj is more calculated, working behind the scenes while still facing off face to face against Obi-Wan and Anakin, and it uniquely handles her character. The book is a Clone Wars adventure taking place before and it requires only the movies' and TCW's context, once again. *While technically taking place after Hyperspace Stories #5, it contradicts that issue's events and makes more sense if it takes place before, so I listed it first (for more info on the contradictions you can go here)*

Star Wars: Hyperspace Stories #5 - Written by Amanda Deibert, with art by Riccardo Faccini (Variant cover by Cary Nord) Taking place shortly after Anakin's knighting, before The Clone Wars show, this is a short and interesting comic story for Asajj. While tying into an over-arching plot of the series, this issue stands alone well. Simply put, Asajj is sent to retrieve a mysterious item by Count Dooku and encounters Anakin and Obi-Wan in the process. It has fun art, fun dynamics, and it's really good.

Worthless - a short story from Stories of Jedi and Sith - written by Delilah S. Dawson with an illustration by Jake Bartok This one is not as set on the timeline, but we do know it takes place while Asajj is still working for Dooku. In short, without too many spoilers, Asajj falls into a pit and has to trust on a Clone Trooper's help to get out. The story is a part of an anthology, but it completely stand-alone on its own. If you can read it on its own, I recommend it, but the rest of the book is also very much worth it if you want to buy it for the story. Dawson captures a version of Asajj that rarely gets attention, before the Nightsisters, and manages to show her identity and tell a wonderful story without that tool that's often overly used (in my opinion).

Star Wars Adventures: Return to Vader's Castle #3 - Written by Cavan Scott with art by Francesco Francavilla & Nick Brokenshire Jumping forward in the Timeline, we have another Asajj story by Cavan Scott! It has Bounty Hunting, A baby Sarlacc, pretty art, fun coloring, and Asajj. So what's not to love? Like Hyperspace Stories, Return to Vader's Castle also has an over-arching plot, but that's 4 framing pages of Vaneé being a bitch and has no effect on the rest of it. Solid stuff. (it is also the source of the first picture in this post)

Sisters - a short comic story from the Age of Republic Special - written by Jody Houser with art by Carlos Gómez Next, we have a wonderful short story taking place just before The Clone Wars episode "To Catch a Jedi". In just a few pages, Jody Houser brings conflict and personality to Asajj's time on Coruscant. And there's gorgeous art.

Legends

While Legends, and especially the comics, have some of my favorite stories with Asajj, it's hard to recommend individual issues. They can be stand-alone but still connected and ingrained in the ongoing story of the comics. But I tried to hand-pick the best for introduction and knowledge of who Asajj is a character there. So I won't recommend the 12 issues she's in, I set myself the limit of sticking with the same number of recommendations I had for canon.

Star Wars: Republic: The New Face of War - 2-issue Comic arc - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello Although I'm assuming you all have at least a passing familiarity with Asajj's character, introductions are still important. And, yes, Asajj first appeared in a different comic and after a month or so in Clone Wars (2003), but chronologically, in-universe, this is her first appearance. The Face of War is comprised of issues #51 and #52 of the Star Wars: Republic comic series, and although Asajj is only in the last page of #51, it's necessary context. This one isn't a must for me, but it sets the ground for her. And it's good. Giorello's art brings a unique perspective to Asajj's character, and by that I mean it may not be to some people's taste. So take your pick with this one.

Star Wars: Republic #53 - written by W. Haden Blackman, with art by Brian Ching If the last one isn't a must, this one is. It is a stand-alone adventure, almost feeling like a (better) TCW episode. Obi-Wan is off to infiltrate a Techno Union base with a team of all-star legendary Jedi that are introduced, and everything goes wrong when they run into the Confederacy's best, Durge and Asajj Ventress. I say it's a must because it establishes the nature of the rivalry between Obi-Wan and Asajj, and gives us such a sense of who those people are. It also lays the foundations to my next comic recommendation.

Dark Heart - short story by August and Cynthia Hahn This one, a 1784-word story, originally published on Wizards.com as a part of The Living Force roleplaying campaign, is definitely not a must, but it's barely 2k words, just read it. In all seriousness though, it captures Asajj's essence and I just. love it. You can read it right now, that's the link in the name, it's up online for free legally. While it is a part of the RPG campaign, I read it individually and had no trouble at all.

The Cestus Deception - by Steven Barnes (The Japanese cover is prettier and has Asajj, ok?) Obi-Wan Kenobi and Kit Fisto head to the planet Ord Cestus to try and convince Ord Cestus's government to ally with The Republic. But under the surface, a mysterious scheme had developed and it gets messy. Never ask me to write a publisher's summary. Asajj is the villain of this one, and I don't have much to say about it, but it is good. Fair warning: it hasn't aged the best in my opinion, and not even in a politically correct sense, some of the descriptions and relationships were questionable at best. If you like Kit Fisto and political adventuring and Clone Wars fights and a mascarade ball, if I remember correctly, this one's for you. It's not much of a story for Asajj but it is a fun read.

Star Wars: Republic #60 - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello I have never ever not once said it but this right here is my favorite Asajj story of all time ever. It does require context, though, so here's it: after the battle of Jabiim, Alpha-17 (Legends Arc Trooper, you may have heard of him) and Obi-Wan (a staple in Asajj's stories, he needs to gtfo women's business) are blown up and declared dead. Turns out Asajj Ventress has been holding them in her castle on the planet Rattatak and this is the daring story of their escape. In this issue, Asajj's origin story is revealed, before the Nightsisters had anything to do with her. More than any other Legends issue, it differentiates greatly from anything you know about Asajj in TCW/Canon. She's a warlord, with armies at her beck and call, a military commander, And it's fun. Her origin story is told in this issue, and it's such a great story that shifted my understanding of her a lot. The art, once again, is by Giorello, keep it in mind.

Yoda: Dark Rendezvous - by Sean Stewart (Japanese cover, once again) Last but certainly not least, the Legends Clone Wars book I've heard the most positive reviews of, and was not disappointed in the slightest. It is as good as they say. The story doesn't focus on Asajj, and she isn't even the main antagonist, but she gets a meaningful role in it and has her place and her arc in the story. It's also my favorite approach to how Asajj would act when she has to deal with children. Worth the hype and an excellent book to read unrelated to Asajj.

Alright, that's all! I hope you check out at least one of these, they're all great. As said before, I also have a complete list of everything Asajj in chronological order. Feel free to ask me anything about the list and the things in it. I can also give a complete comic reading list for her, since it's a bit more than just the issues she appeared in. For anyone struggling with the accessibility of these recommendations, I have a hopefully comprehensive guide in the complete appearances post. And now just this list because I promised that:

Canon 1) Dooku: Jedi Lost Audiodrama - Script by Cavan Scott, preformed by full cast (also available in Script format) 2) Brotherhood - by Mike Chen 3) Star Wars: Hyperspace Stories #5 - Written by Amanda Deibert, with art by Riccardo Faccini (Variant cover by Cary Nord) 4) Worthless - a short story from Stories of Jedi and Sith - written by Delilah S. Dawson with an illustration by Jake Bartok 5) Star Wars Adventures: Return to Vader's Castle #3 - Written by Cavan Scott with art by Francesco Francavilla & Nick Brokenshire 6) Sisters - a short comic story from the Age of Republic Special - written by Jody Houser with art by Carlos Gómez

Legends 1) Star Wars: Republic: The New Face of War - 2-issue Comic arc (Star Wars: Republic #51-52) - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello 2) Star Wars: Republic #53 - written by W. Haden Blackman, with art by Brian Ching 3) Dark Heart - short story by August and Cynthia Hahn 4) The Cestus Deception - by Steven Barnes 5) Star Wars: Republic #60 - written by W. Haden Blackman with art by Tomás Giorello 6) Yoda: Dark Rendezvous - by Sean Stewart

tag list: @thechaoticfanartist @charmwasjess @metalatl @redsandspirit @slutshartsstuff @housepartyfortwo @karma-malfoy @thelivingforce

[dragon-ascent]

Mora For Your Thoughts?

Zhongli is always interested in what you have to say, no matter what it is.

★彡penny for your thoughts, zhongli edition.

"Mora for your thoughts?"

You smile up at your husband, whose question has pulled you out of your midday reverie. Zhongli sets the tea tray he’s been holding on the table, settles beside you on the couch with a tender smile and kisses your cheek, eagerly awaiting your answer.

"Well," you begin, "I was wondering why cats get nine lives, but dogs don't."

Zhongli rubs his chin thoughtfully. "A fascinating question. In fact, I seem to recall a story from centuries past that tells the story of a cat and his dog companion, and how they once compete for immortality." He pauses, knowing that the story will take all evening to narrate - which he will only do if you're fine with it.

You rest your head on his shoulder, knowing full well that any story from Zhongli's internal archives is bound to be a treat. "Go on." There is tea, and there is time.

******

"Mora for your thoughts?"

Sitting by the windowsill, you keep your gaze upon the clear sapphire sky up above. "I was just wondering what it would feel like to soar in the sky, unfettered by the troubles of the world below."

Zhongli hums. "If I weren't living strictly as a mortal, I would love to let you ride on my back across the skies."

You turn to him, a big smile on your face. "Wow, really? In your dragon form?"

"Of course, dearest. Though I doubt that would be possible at present, but perhaps one day." He, too, now looks up into the blue, blue sky.

You shake your head. "It's the thought that counts! Just imagining it makes my heart race! I've always wanted to ride you - I...I mean ride on your back while you're in dragon form..."

Zhongli throws his head back and laughs, a pleasant, rumbling baritone that never fails to make butterflies erupt within you. With golden eyes full of mirth, he says, "For now, I shall regale you with descriptions of the sky and clouds from my own experiences. Would you like that?"

"Yes please! Tell me all there is to see and experience alongside the loftiest birds!"

And thus, your husband kisses your forehead and begins to narrate his skyward anecdotes, each description more vivid than the last, until it feels like you are up there in the skies atop a draconic Zhongli, feeling the wind race across your face and the clouds split into tendrils like cotton.

******

You narrow your eyes down at the book you're reading, utterly displeased with the direction the author's taking. Though you suppose it's to be expected of a run-of-the-mill romance... still, you sigh and look up from the novel, finding Zhongli's own inquisitive gaze upon you. He is reading a book as well, but for now chooses instead to focus on his beloved.

"Mora for your thoughts?"

You smile at the fondly familiar question. "I just find it frustrating how, in the novel I'm reading, the main character is more attracted to the man with anger issues and a drinking problem, rather than the level-headed and genuinely kind man."

"Ah, a case of second-lead syndrome, hm?"

"Yup," you affirm, and then sigh again, "it wouldn't be so bad if the romance scenes were at least well-written. None of them seem romantically-charged at all. It's frustrating. There's so many things the author could have done..."

"Is that so?" Zhongli sets aside his book, his eyes carefully trained on you. "Have you any suggestions?"

It's an innocuous question, so you answer without hesitating. "They could've had a scene where they were pressed together in a tight space, or had to share a single bed at a busy inn...and their kissing scenes are drier than the Desert of Hadramaveth! I would've liked it if their kisses had both passion and tenderness."

A soft chuckle, and Zhongli is now cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch contentedly as his thumb draws soothing circles along your cheek. "Shall we enact your romantic fantasies and make them a reality?"

Saying this, your husband kisses you, equal parts tender and passionate. What follows makes sure you know firsthand that what you two have is miles more powerful than words in the pages of a book.

[twisted-tales-of-all]

Until We Meet Again

Summary: Although San is left alone to watch the shrine after his friends move onto the next plane, he faces someone who reminds him of his past love. Pairing: Naga!Choi San x afab!reader Genre: Fluff, one-shot, event, rated PG Tropes: reincarnation, fated lovers Word Count: 3.5K Contains: discussion of death and past lives, sense of not belonging due to bullying/othering (essentially racism) A/N: Apologies for the lack of banner and poor editing. I've been in quite a slump recently, but wanted to ensure I finished up this piece for the spring event. Please check out all the other pieces submitted as well!

Although he's grown accustomed to the lack of visitors, San finds himself exceptionally bored as the cold weather melts away into the beginnings of this spring. Decidedly, he exits his usual post within the forgotten shrine for a walk in the nearby gardens. Despite donning his human form, people can clearly tell that he's different. Feeling everybody's judgemental looks, he tries his best to focus on the well-trimmed stylized bushes and the pruned bunches of flowers that dared to bloom this close to winter's edge.

"Mommy, why are his eyes like that?" A child asks far too loud for their mother's liking, who rushes away with them quickly.

With a sigh, San brings a hand to his temple. Immediately greeted by the cool touch of scales, he only grows more frustrated by the clear differences between him and the humans. Despite his intense respect towards the deity who made him their shrine guardian, he cannot help the feelings of resentment in giving him this specific form. So often, guardians get beautiful animal forms - cats, foxes, dogs - but his deity did not follow these typical choices. Instead, San got the powers and form of a snake. Thanks to various stories about evil snake monsters - Quetzalcoatl, Leviathan, nagas, lamias, gorgons, etc. - most humans steered clear of the shrine for fear of a malevolent deity.

Finding his attempt at a calming walk frustrating, San turns on his heel and heads back towards his home, unaware of the pair of curious eyes watching the whole ordeal. Unlike the judgemental glares of most people in the garden, you look on with an almost naive sense of genuine curiosity. You've heard stories of the guardian spirits of shrines, but this is your first time seeing one. Guided by your urge to learn more about the stranger, you secretly follow his path to the shrine. You witness him drop his human disguise to reveal a far more snake-like appearance before phasing through the closed panels of the shrine, disappearing completely from view.

After a few blinks to reassure yourself that you aren't in a strange dream, you head back to the garden as you think about how to meet him again. As you pass by the flowers he admired earlier, you notice the winter jasmines and smile.

"Elegance and graace; symbolizing good fortune." Repeating the text from a book you read on flower symbolism, you decide exactly how to approach the interesting snake man.

Carefully reviewing your notes over the next few days, you coax a flower away from its friends, thanking it for blooming beautifully to help you. You bring it with you as you make your way to the quiet shrine. Despite not knowing anything about the deity honored there, you respectfully perform a basic prayer to them. After, you feel the presence of someone - or, rather, something - there with you. Trying to hide your smile, you present the carnation upon the stone slab resting between you and the shrine.

"I don't know whether you know the meaning of flowers, but I think it must be fate that you were admiring the winter jasmines. I have a feeling you are similar to them: elegant and graceful. Even if nobody else can see you as anything but a monster because you look different, I refuse to judge you like that. If you'd please, I hope you accept this flower as a testament to my fascination of you. I'd like to get to know you more. Maybe a name, to start."

He doesn't greet you, but you pique his curiosity with your flower knowledge. Peeking through the shutters while hidden by invisibility magic, he commits your image to memory. However, he doesn't have to go searching for you like he expected, as you return to the shrine the following day. For the first time in over a decade, San opens the shutters, allowing you to see the representation of his deity.

Very androgynous, the long-haired figure stands there, dressed in an ornately decorated red and black hanbok. Next to them, a small dragon reaches the height of their knees, threatening whoever it may be. You study the visual, trying to locate anything that might identify what kind of god they are.

With the same intensity, San studies you, wondering whether you have ill intent in coming to the shrine. Today, as well, he remains hidden from you, but he quickly chooses a plant for you. Using his powers, he commands a breeze to drop the mint at your feet.

After a chuckle, you pick it up and question the choice, "This could mean so many different things. I wonder which you thought of when choosing it for me. Are you suspicious of me, or maybe openminded and interested in me? Or maybe you just think I'm a stroke of good luck! Have I healed your loneliness? Give me some more information here!"

Before he realizes it, a smile creeps across his face. Your knowledge and playfulness entice him. Moving out of view and lifting his invisibility, he walks out of the shrubbery and clears his throat to get your attention. As you turn, you're greeted by his human form once again.

"Nice to meet you. You don't have to put up that disguise, y'know. Just be comfortable; I'm not scared. Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way."

"How...? You- How are you so nonchalant about it?"

Tilting your head in confusion, you remind him of a small puppy, naive and trusting in a horribly untrusting world. He can't help but laugh, at your naivety and at himself for suspecting you of ill intent.

"You can call me San. That's the name Bo-in gave me when they took me under their wing."

"Nice to officially meet you, San. Is Bo-in the name of your deity? What did their powers entail?"

"Balance, mostly. Water to fire; earth to sky; shadow to light. Ensuring nothing overpowered its counterpart. They brought me and Soo-ah to their temple, teaching us and granting us our own powers after some time. When it was time for Bo-in to move on from this world, they knew that dragons would soon be hunted, so Soo-ah remained by their side while I stayed to watch over the shrine."

As he talks, his disguise slowly fades away, showing his growing comfort around you. He continues by explaining that Bo-in gave both pupils more unique creature forms than typical spirit guides. Although he doesn't mention why, you assume that it was another attempt to balance things out. From choosing one man and one woman, giving them names that balance, and bringing one while leaving the other, everything was truly done in the name of balance.

While you enjoy learning everything, you have to get home, as the sun has almost made its full path through the sky. As you say your goodbyes, you promise to return another day in the near future.

"Y/N," he calls after you've taken a few steps. "Thank you."

"Hm?"

"Just... thank you."

He'll never say it aloud. Never admit that you remind him of her. If he admits it, he'll have to acknowledge his feelings once again, after all this time. He'd have to recognize that he thanked you for returning to him and repairing his trust in humanity. That he can feel Bo-in looking down on him and smiling as everything goes according to plan.

"Y/N isn't Soo-ah." He says it aloud to convince himself and snap at his god for planning it.

When he rises the next morning, a bright red flower rests beside him. Since nobody has access to his magical abode, he immediately deduces it as a message from Bo-in. Wiping the residual sleepiness from his eyes and sitting up straight, San picks up the crimson petals to identify them. Camellia.

"Is this a joke, Bo-in? I only know two meanings behind the red camellia: love and a graceful death. What could you-?"

As it hits him, the words stop flowing. There's no way that's what they mean, right? But what else could this particular flower mean? Is it really a confirmation of Soo-ah's return? Hers is the only graceful death he can think of. Not to mention his love for her over all these centuries still holding strong.

The next time you go to meet San, you want to bring out another plant, but you can't figure out any that stand out, so you ask the local florist to choose a meaningful flower for you, essentially leaving the choice up to fate. When he comes back with a bright red flower that you don't know the meaning of, you find it quite a good match to your new friend, whose hair radiates a similar tone. Especially so after the florist explains that camellias are often used to symbolize overcoming adversity. After learning his story the day prior, you decide that this flower fits perfectly. Thanking him, you pay for the flower and begin heading towards Bo-in's shrine.

As you arrive, you're shocked by how grim the area feels. Usually bustling with greenery and a freshness in the air, you become overwhelmed by the thick, heavy air. Looking around at the bushes, it appears as if a tornado had focused its chaos upon the small pavilion. Dropping the flower, you rush to the shrine, tearing the shutters open and calling out for San.

"Quit your yapping."

Hearing a voice above you, you search the trees for a sign of him but cannot find one.

"San, come here. What happened?"

Plopping down behind you, he answers vaguely, "Bo-in is testing me."

With the momentum of the spin to face him, you nearly trip over your own two feet. Expecting to find his face at its normal height, you look around confused when that isn't the case.

"Down here."

You feel a light pressure on your foot and look down to find a red and brown snake atop it. Your gut reaction is to jump and kick it away, but you manage to stop yourself knowing that the creature is your friend.

"I can't change. Bo-in left me a flower, and, after a few hours, I felt my control over my powers weakening at a rapid rate. Now I'm here."

Squatting down, you hold a hand to the snake to bring him up to your level again. He wraps his scaly body around your arm, keeping his head near your palm. You try not to smile at his appearance, but it creeps through anyway.

"Laugh all you want." He huffs.

"I'm not laughing! I just think you're cute like this, that's all."

If a snake could blush, you're certain you'd see it right now. Tripping over his words and looking anywhere else but your face, San fails to respond to your comment. Your comment clearly flusters him, so you make a note to compliment him more in all of his various forms.

"So, what do we have to do to get you out of this form? It isn't some 'true love's kiss' type thing, is it?"

Although you were joking entirely, the silence that follows makes your heart drop a bit.

Eventually, he answers, "I sure hope not." Turning away from you and constricting more around your arm, he adds, "Let's try anything else before we assume that's the solution."

"You... don't have a clue?"

"No. Bo-in left the flower and then this happened. Nothing else. No clues."

Suddenly reminded of the flower you brought him, you look around to find it. He catches sight of its vibrant hue and everything immediately clicks in his mind.

"That's a camellia, isn't it?"

You hum in agreement as you bend down to pick it up, adding, "I didn't know much about it, but the florist told me that it's a sign of overcoming adversity. After hearing your life story, I-"

"That's the flower Bo-in left me."

"How strange. Do you think it means something?"

"Y/N." He pauses, and the emphasis in his voice sends a shiver up your spine, "That flower screams Soo-ah. It means perishing with grace, and symbolizes a strong, long-lasting love."

A strong gust blows at you, harshly ripping a few petals from their pistil. San carefully watches where they land, hoping for a coincidence rather than another part of Bo-in's scheme. Despite his wishes, however, each petal lands precisely in the center of the place it softly floats to the small pond, the shrine's entrance, and the zen garden.

"Water, earth, and air. With a flower as vibrant as flames."

Slowly, you approach the petal at the entrance. Looking in, there's now a cloudy but reflective surface in place of Bo-in's engraved likeness. Focusing on your reflection, you find a completely different image. Rather than you holding a snake, you see two people holding hands. You quickly identify San despite the longer dark hair and wedding-style suit, but you don't recognize the other figure who matches in an elegant white dress with red and gold jewelry. As you move, she moves with you, but this definitely isn't your own reflection.

"That's Soo-ah, isn't it?"

"You're Soo-ah, Y/N." Another booming voice responds before the snake in your hand gets the chance.

Quickly, you spin on your heel. There, just as androgynous as the carving, stands Bo-in. Despite the initial shock, standing there together feels normal. Comfortable. Familiar.

"It's like San says. Although your memories have been wiped upon reincarnation, you were once Soo-ah. Somehow, you were drawn back to this place despite my best attempts to keep you away. Therefore, as I promised you before approving the reincarnation, I will offer my explicit approval for your love. As a gift, I can also return your memories to you, should you want them back."

"Bo-in, revert this magic." Annoyed, San blurts out, interrupting the conversation. "I'd like to change this form again. It is awkward to stay like this while you both have physical human forms."

Despite the interruption, Bo-in appears unfazed, holding out a hand for San to slither onto. A dim light radiates from their palm and surrounds the small snake. Shortly after, San returns to a humanoid form. This interaction buys you some additional time to comprehend the situation and figure out how to answer such a difficult question.

Bo-in returns focus to you, "Have you decided, Soo-ah?"

A shiver runs up your spine, making you twitch from the discomfort. Although you understand that you're Soo-ah's reincarnation, being addressed by her name irks you. You haven't been Soo-ah in decades. You've been yourself all these years, not her. Meeting San was coincidental, even if there might've been outside forces influencing you to do certain things.

With this revelation, you decide, "I appreciate your offer, Bo-in, but suddenly acquiring memories from a past life feels like something that the human mind cannot handle. It'd likely send me down a spiral about my identity. I have to reject your offer."

A smile creeps onto Bo-in's face as you talk, but it's San who speaks first, "Man, you really ARE the same person."

Confused, your wide-eyed gaze hops back and forth between the two people in front of you. Neither cares to give any further context, and Bo-in confuses you even more by breaking out into bellowing laughter without comment. San quickly joins, and soon their laughs are too contagious to avoid. Although you can't pinpoint the reason for the laughter, it lightens the load in your heart.

Shortly after the laughter settles, Bo-in says goodbye and wishes you both luck. Leaving you and San alone, the air tenses again. You quickly go to apologize for not reviving Soo-ah's memories, thinking that may be why things feel awkward. However, before you can say three words, you feel lips on yours and hands cupping your cheeks. Your face heats up from the sudden affection, but you also melt into the sensation. You've been on your own for so long that you didn't realize how much you longed for someone to kiss you.

The interaction feels quick, but San pulls away with a heavy breath. The air is thick and warm between you, and you can't find the words to say after such a sudden interaction, but the silence that follows feels fresh, as if the kiss extended into the depths of your souls. When his breathing returns to normal, the silence finally breaks.

"I'd apologize, but I actually don't regret it."

You can't help but laugh. His confident aura lends to the cockiness of his comment, but he fully jokes. Despite his words, you know he's sorry for the sudden invasion of your personal space.

"Don't worry, San. I enjoyed it. You don't need to apologize."

"Okay, good. I mean, surely it must've felt like all those plays describe, right? Where you're swept off your feet by the man of your dreams."

Rolling your eyes, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of any answer whatsoever. Instead, you change the subject, asking him to adapt a little to the current culture. Although he finds current technology difficult to manage, you convince him to trade in the flower-passing messaging for a simple flip phone.

After suggesting that you'll be back next time with a phone, you give him a hug and take your leave. He kisses your forehead, and you think about it the whole trip home. You can feel the smile etched across your face. It's not just your lips either; you just know there's a twinkle in your eyes and more light on your full face. Although unusual, you rationalize it with the thought that it's simply because it's been too long.

It takes a while for him to adjust to the phone, but once he does, you'd be easily convinced that he never puts it down. Multiple calls daily make you glad you didn't teach him how to message people. Meetings become more frequent and in new places as you show him some of your favorite places. Slowly but surely, he begins adjusting to the lifestyle you've known.

Although he's had a few slip-ups, calling you Soo-ah a few times, he immediately corrects himself and apologizes each time. You understand that you likely resemble her in numerous ways, so you don't get upset. And, just as you intended by refusing your past life memories, San begins falling for Y/N rather than simply seeing Soo-ah in you. The name swaps happen less and eventually completely fade away. You feel it in his demeanor, too. Rather than being restrictive and apologetic about his feelings, his confidence soars, and his actions towards you feel fuller, more genuine and complete.

A few months pass; the next season comes. You barely even notice before San points it out.

"The colors of spring are wonderful, but there's a serenity that comes with the beginning of summer. Don't you think?"

Caught off-guard by the sudden question, you look around so you can respond. Expecting the cleanness that comes when all the flowers of spring fall to the ground and get whisked away by the wind, you actually find yourself stuck staring at a rarity. Once something unrecognizable to you, your eyes catch onto a camellia. However, this one isn't as striking as the red one from before. Rather, as if someone stripped the color clean out, this lone flower stands a bright white, still managing to stand out against the browns and yellows of the season's transition.

Shocked at your silence, San follows your unwavering gaze to the bush. When he catches sight of it, his eyes widen, and he curses under his breath. Even without knowing the specifics behind the various color meanings of this flower, something about the striking white feels haunting to you. You remind yourself that the flower means long-lasting, mutual love, but San's words ring in your head: it means perishing with grace. Is it a bad omen? Bo-In hasn't interfered since that day, so there's no way they'd speak to you now, right? Is it a warning? Are you overreacting?

"San..."

"They don't bloom this late. It shouldn't exist." Flatly, your boyfriend declares, a poorly-hidden concern painted upon his face.

Standing up from the bench, you approach the flower with San trailing a step behind you. Reaching out and touching it, the whole thing falls apart. Characteristic of camellias, the petals and sepals all collapse together at the slightest touch of your finger. With your arm frozen in position, you turn your head to the boy on your left, shooting him a concerned look.

Placing an arm around your shoulders, he files through a dozen statements to try and reassure you both that it's pure coincidence with no meaning. Even though you're certain both of you have worries in the back of your mind, you drop your arm and the topic all at once. Bouncing back into a happy state, you begin walking away and finally answer the question from earlier to segue into a new conversation.

"Summer really gives off that sense of a new beginning. Everything is changing, just like us. I think it's really appreciated in the cycle of seasons."

"Just like us... You're right. Here's to our new start with the season change."