#we are almost @ a year’s worth of hyperfixation

[kinardsevan]

Prompt: bucktommy entertaining each other while stuck in traffic.

“Give me something blue.”

Tommy almost glares at him. “Evan, that Bronco is teal.”

“Absolutely not,” Evan argues back, smirking at his boyfriend. They’re stuck in standstill traffic on the 210, just trying to get back to Tommy’s house after two long shifts, but an accident has them backed up from what should’ve been a ten minute drive to nearly half an hour in unmoving traffic.

“I mean I may or may not have been referring to something inside my pants,” he continues, turning to look out his window. “But since you’re so insistent, I spy with my little eye-“

Tommy hand claps down on his thigh. Evan turns his head back towards his boyfriend in the drivers seat as his face flushes, pink dusting across his features.

“We are in standstill traffic,” Tommy states gruffly. “Do not me make an exhibitionist out of you.”

Evan gives the hint of a smirk, but then nods. He reaches for Tommy’s phone on the center console as his boyfriend loosens his grip on his leg, though he doesn’t let go. He scrolls through the music for a beat before returning it to the dash, still just as bored.

After a time, he glances back at Tommy, and the older man looks back at him, feeling eyes on him.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head,” Tommy asks, stroking his thumb over Evan’s thigh.

“Just thinking about my favorite things about you,” Evan rasps, wrapping his hand around Tommy’s middle fingers on his leg.

Tommy flushes at the statement, a small smile pulling at his cheeks.

“Like what,” he asks timidly, curious.

“Like your hands,” Evan says as he looks down at the one he’s holding on his leg. “And how big they are. I’m not exactly small, but you make me feel like…” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “Like I’m worth protecting.”

“Evan,” Tommy lilts, his head dropping back against his headrest.

“Don’t read more into that,” Evan continues. “A-and also how, no matter what’s going on with everyone else, you always check in with me first. It’s been a long time, since someone took the time to ask.”

“That’s a basic right that you deserve,” Tommy reminds him, his thumb still moving absentmindedly on his leg. “You done?”

Evan shakes his head, smile still on his face.

“I love how tender you are with me in bed,” he admits quietly. “Even when I just want to be thrown around. You always make sure I’m taken care of, not just physically.”

Tommy’s hand clenches on his thigh again, but lets up after a few seconds.

“God damn, kid,” he mutters hoarsely. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Evan leans across the cab and kisses his jaw. Tommy leans into it, turning his head after a few seconds and kissing him as he lifts their intertwined hands, still manages to curl his fingers under Evan’s chin, keeping him close.

“My turn?” He asks when Evan finally pulls away, settles back in his seat and pulling Tommy’s hand along with him.

“If you must.”

Tommy squeezes his leg again, though this time in a show of reassurance as Evan leans back against his headrest.

“I also love your hands,” Tommy tells him. “Although for far different reasons.”

Evan blushes again, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“In all seriousness, the way you create things blows my mind,” Tommy tells him. “Food, crafts, the things you build. It’s fascinating to watch.”

Evan nods at the words. Tommy is never stingy with praise over anything he makes, whether it’s food, something for their living spaces, or something he went down a hyperfixation on.

“And your brain,” Tommy adds. “Your need to understand everything and seek out knowledge, and the way that has correlated to our obsession with Jeopardy.”

Evan smirks at that, adds. “I still miss Alex.”

Tommy nods. “And your willingness to completely throw yourself in. Doing in a few weeks what took me years.”

“Wanted you more,” Evan murmurs at him.

“That’s not lost on me,” Tommy replies. “God, Evan, your willingness to love people regardless and in spite of. Damn near unconditionally. I do feel protective of you, and maybe a little selfishly so, because when you give, you give your entire heart. I was jealous of that when I first realized it,” he exclaims. “Until I realized you were giving it to me.”

Evan gulps at Tommy’s words, the depth of love that he’s speaking to in the moment. It’s not that he doesn’t know it; he’s more than aware of how deep their connection is, feels it twenty-four seven. Still, hearing it out loud floods him with the kind of emotion he doesn’t know how to put into words.

“That’s my absolute favorite thing about you,” Tommy finishes. Evan just stares at him, eyes clear and filled with passion and adoration.

“I love you.” He states it simply, no intonation in his voice. It’s not the first time; they’ve been saying it for a while now. But it means more than that this time; like he’s not just saying the words, telling Tommy he loves him as he is. Like this time, he’s telling him he’s in love with him, and every tiny piece of what makes their relationship quintessentially them.

“I love you too,” Tommy says back, same tone, same intentions. Evan starts to lean across the cab again, but a horn honks behind them, causing them both to look up. Traffic has started to inch forward. Evan drops back into the passenger seat and Tommy chuckles softly, pulling Evan’s hand to his lips as they start moving again.

[kingdomoftyto]

I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.

Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:

Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.

Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.

What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)

If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:

That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.

But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?

Nothing.

No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).

...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?

So yeah.

A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.

This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.

PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! Do you have any tips how to not lose interest in a story and be enough interested to start/do write if? Personally I just get hyperfixated on a story idea I have, do the brainstorming, even the planning, sometimes world building and if I get serious I make lists about almost everything but never end up writing even if I have interest still, but at most cases at the point I could start writing I just loose interest and get bored of a story when I'm done figuring out what it'll be about and maybe because I don't really like thinking about the climax or the end of the story...

Hyperfixation on Planning Story, But Can't Write It

I do have some tips on rekindling your interest in your story, which I'll link below, but first I think it's worth addressing the specific issues you mentioned: that you don't like to think about the climax or end of the story.

Have you thought at all about why you feel that way? There are a few potential reasons I can think of:

1 - Your story doesn't have a conflict, so your story doesn't have a natural climax or ending. Stories revolve around conflict, or in other words a problem that needs to be solved. This problem could be in the character's heart and mind (internal conflict), in the character's situation/life/world (external conflict), or you can have both at the same time. Many stories these days have a parallel internal and external conflict. Stories are ultimately about someone (or a bunch of someones) trying to solve a problem. In order to solve that problem, they need to reach a particular goal or accomplish a particular thing. The bulk of the story will be their struggle to reach this goal as they overcome the obstacles along the way. The climax of the story is where they face down the cause of the conflict once and for all, whether that's a villain (like an evil wizard or corrupt corporation) or a force (like illness or a natural disaster) and try to solve the problem once and for all. Everything after that is the aftermath... whether they succeeded or failed, patching up their "wounds" from the "battle" (again, it doesn't have to be actual wounds or an actual battle), and settling into the post-conflict life. That's your ending.

2 - You have a conflict, but haven't figured out how it would be resolved, so the climax and ending are fuzzy. If you have a conflict but aren't sure how it would be resolved, it might help to think of the conflict as a problem that needs to be solved. For example, in The Hunger Games, the conflict was the Hunger Games Event... the problem was that Katniss volunteered to compete which put her life at risk. So the solution to the problem was to survive the event.

3 - You know what the climax and ending are, but you are enjoying the characters and world and don't want the story to end. This is one I think many writers can relate to. It can be really hard to let go of a story when you've enjoyed writing it, have gotten attached to the characters, and feel comfortable/familiar with the world. It can also be a little scary to think about diving into a whole new story. But, we do have to learn to let go of stories when they're finished and let them come to their natural conclusion. You can always go back to the world and characters, even if just for yourself, later on. It wouldn't be weird to write "fan-fiction" of your own story, and many writers turn these kinds of stories into prequels, sequels, companion series, and companion short stories that their readers enjoy, too.

Here are some tips for getting excited about your story again if you just need your motivation rekindled:

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! Getting Excited About Your Story Again Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Feeling Unmotivated with WIP

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking | ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[strawwritesfic]

Vongola Guardians Taking Care of You Headcanons

Hey, guys! I'm sick again! So you know what that means...dopey headcanons about fictional guys taking care of you, their S/O, when you're sick!

I did it for the Avengers last time, so let's apply it to my current hyperfixation this time around.

Note that this is all regarding the adult versions of the cast, and we are not working with A) COVID (because it's too real) or B) The in-universe original TYL!Time Line (because I don't feel like dealing with the whole Millifiore situation).

Tsuna Sawada

Tsuna's got a lot of work to do, running the Vongola, but that doesn't mean he's going to ignore you when you're sick. In fact, you being sick is probably enough of a distraction that he's not going to get that work done anyway--and he's definitely not above using you getting sick as an excuse to get away from his responsibilities for a little while. If it's really something important, of course he'll do it. Otherwise, he's with you all the way. Unfortunately, Tsuna's kind of useless as a caregiver. His heart is in the right place, but he's not entirely sure what to do, and if he tries to do something, it typically winds up spilled all over you. What he can do is that neat trick with his sky flame on his finger on your forehead. When you can't sleep, that's your ticket to dreamland. Except that once he did that, and you slept for two straight days. Everyone was very worried. Reborn congratulated him on sending his S/O into a coma. When you did wake up, you felt much better, but he's reluctant to try it again. Good thing that his company is enough to make you feel a little better most of the time.

Hayato Gokudera

This is the guy that researches every single symptom you have. He's got medical textbooks. He's got WebMD's symptom checker. He's got...books on exorcisms? So not everything he's going to try is necessarily scientifically accurate. And he's not going to let you rest either, because he's got an enormous whiteboard covered in diagrams of all his research. He even wants to dictate the way you sleep, because he's figured out the only way to do it that will actually get you better! And if you don't let him try to get rid of the evil spirits inhabiting you at least once, you're probably going to wake up in the middle of the night surrounded by candles while he stands by the bed chanting. At least the minute Tsuna needs him, he's gone, so you'll get some peace and quiet.

But Gokudera does make some amazing okayu. It's the worst okayu you've ever tasted. At first, you might wonder if Bianchi's the one that made it. But even though it tastes incredibly awful, it does actually make you feel better. it almost makes him playing nurse worth it from time to time.

Ryohei Sasagawa

Ryohei has probably never had a sick day in his entire life. If he had a cold, he just EXTREMED it out of his system, and that's exactly what he expects you to do, too. You can't let the cold win! You have to get up! You have to get up before sunrise! You have to go for a ten-mile run before sunrise! You have to go for a ten-mile run while carrying cinderblocks in both hands before sunrise! Show your illness how EXTREME you are, and you will never be sick again a day in your life! He's not making you do all of this alone. Ryohei is right there with you, doing the exact same thing but with a lot more enthusiasm. It's exausting.

Thankfully, he's got Kyoko around. Once she realizes what's going on, she can rescue you. She knows how to take care of sick people, and she'll get you set up in a nice, dark room with whatever you need, and she and Haru will make sure that you eat healthy and get plenty of rest--because, let's face it, you're probably worse off now than you were before Ryohei got his hands on you. You will live, but it might be a good idea in the future to call in sick to your S/O next time you've got a tickle in your throat.

Lambo

This 15-year-old guy has literally no clue what to do with a sick S/O. Heck, he has literally no clue what to do with himself when he's sick. He's so covered in girls your age anyway, so what are the chances that he notices that you're slogging your way through your day? Well, he does. That doesn't mean he's going to do anything about it...until I-Pin notices as well and chastises him for being so heartless.

And the truth is, he cares about you, and he hates to see you sick. He's not great at doing much more than playing gopher...but, again, he's 15. What else is he supposed to do? So at least for the day he'll get you whatever you want. Chocolate ice cream? Done. Ramen from I-Pin place of work? Absolutely. He consumes half of it, too, and he moans a lot about how gross it is, but ultimately you'd probably be a lot more lonely recuperating by yourself than with him around.

Takeshi Yamamoto

Does Yamamoto even realize you're sick? That is the question. He's known you long enough to know when something's up, but he also trusts you. When you tell him no, you're fine, please just go get beaten up by an Italian man with a sword like he planned, he's not going to argue. Yamamoto knows that you're tough, and if you don't want his help, he's not going to force it on you. He respects you too much to baby you.

On the other hand, on his way home from sparring with Squalo, he's going to pick up a few things. First, he's going to go to the store, and he's going to grab a couple boxes of medicine that sound like they'll help what he thought you sounded like you had that morning. Then he's going to go by his dad's restaurant and pick up a ton of sushi. If you're still not feeling well when he gets home, then he's got you covered. But if you still want to pretend that you're fine, then he just keeps the medicine in his coat pocket for later. He's fine pretending that you're fine if that's what you want. At least there's good food for a quiet night in so you can rest.

Mukuro Rokudo

I mean, as long as he needs you for something, he'll probably care that your sick. Your organs are still in the right place. There's probably not a good way to illusion away your cold and flu symptoms. So if you're fine, he's probably got better things to be doing, like plotting how to finally possess Tsuna and start a war within the mafia!

Oh, what? Really? You want him to say? Well, then, maybe he can put off the whole bloody war within the mafia thing off for another day or two. After all, it's been ten years and he still hasn't got around to it! But hopefully you know that you're in for a lot of getting your own juice bottles, or at least having him torment you about getting your juice bottles until your fever breaks.

Kyoya Hibari

Hibari doesn't get sick, because being sick is weak. But now that he's older, he can appreciate that no one is as strong as he is, so even his S/O is going to get sick from time to time. He is not going to baby you for choosing to be so weak as to catch a cold, however. You probably won't be seeing much of Hibari while you're ill. He's got important business to attend to.

But without saying it, he does make it clear he cares. He'll adjust your pillow in the morning before he leaves. He'll make sure there's plenty of tea in the cupboard. He'll send Kusakabe to check on you regularly. And since you did decide to throw your lot in with Hibari, this radio silence isn't exactly unheard of or unwelcome. Just make sure none of your other friends are around for a visit if and when he decides to come look in on you himself.

[spreadyovrwings]

64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French 'compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: smut! slight sub/dom dynamics, i guess, i'm never sure, i just like being bossy. john gets topped, and i do mean topped!

A/N: i'm so sorry! i’ve been gone for ages! i've just got a million hyperfixations and they all take up a lot of energy you know how it is but but but hopefully this makes up for it

//

Chapter 11

Sweat beaded your skin, clammy and tight. Every breath you drew in was lukewarm and fetid, half someone else’s. Your feet hurt and your head was pounding and the floor was sticky beneath your new shoes, but you hardly noticed any of it.

John was pressed tight against you, and it was all you could think about, all you could bring yourself to focus on. His narrow body felt angular and hot; you could feel the heat coming off of him through his clothes.

It was Saturday night. The bakery had been yours for exactly six days. John had been yours for even longer. Now, pressed up against each other in a tiny Camden club, you could finally celebrate both.

The music was so loud, it had risen to a dull hum, pop music you were faintly aware of but didn’t know the words or the steps to. You weren’t being modest when you said you weren’t much of a dancer, but John didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands hadn’t left your body since he pulled you onto the dance floor, and he had enough moves for the both of you.

It had been an exhausting week, but the kind of exhausting that left your muscles glowing and your chest full at the end of the day.

Universities had finally broken up for the summer, so John had a lot more free time, and he’d spent most of it hunched over Gladys’ desk, running through 64 Oslo Square's accounts. He’d made it his solemn duty to uncover exactly what kind of impact Alastair had had on the bakery.

John was right, that night he walked you home and off-handedly wondered how the bakery could possibly be struggling considering it never lacked customers and the area was so affluent.

It turned out Alastair had been funnelling money out of the business for months, ever since he met Gladys. He had sought her out, plucked her from the vine, and pressed her between thumb and forefinger, squeezing her for all she was worth with a vicious smile.

Now he was gone, the bakery had come to life again. John found money ferreted away in all sorts of places, stored away for hard times, or just in case things went south for Alastair. Luckily, John’s astute head for numbers and figures got there first, returning what had always been yours back to you, like transposing music for one instrument to another.

Before too long, 64 Oslo Square could raise its head again. You didn’t have to beg for new kitchen equipment. You didn’t have to pray for a pay-rise. The scarlet front door could be painted for the first time in years, Mickey didn’t have to worry about taking care of his young family, and Gladys could hire more help, allowing you your first night out in almost a decade.

You met after work. John went home to shower and get changed, giving you time to figure out what on earth to wear on your first proper date with the boy you’d fallen in love with months ago. You kept having to remind yourself that you hadn’t actually told him yet; something about John’s pretty green-grey eyes made you lose all track of time.

When he picked you up, John looked less than pleased. Laughing softly at his turned-down mouth, you slipped a hand over his shoulder and pulled him down to your height so that you could press a kiss to his cheek.

“Alright, New Boy?”

“Hi, love.” John sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

Frowning, you ushered him into your flat.

“Already? We haven’t even made it out the door yet.”

You smiled, hoping to reassure him, and it seemed to work. But John still looked troubled despite the little smile he summoned in return.

“C’mon, then. What’re you sorry for?”

With another, frankly dramatic sigh, John flopped down onto your couch like a sack of potatoes. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, splayed outwards in a ‘V’, his platform heels digging into the carpet.

It had been a while since he’d been in your flat. John looked so funny, collapsed on your couch. He was so tall and gangly, he made all your furniture look smaller, and tonight he was dressed up to the nines, his hair perfect, huffing and puffing on your second-hand sofa.

“I was telling Roger about tonight, you know, asking where we should go because he- And now-”

“He’s coming too?”

“And Freddie.”

John looked so despairing, you had to laugh. He looked like a teenager who’d been told he had to bring his little brother along to a party.

“I’m really sorry. I did try to tell them this was our first proper date but they’d already started planning what they were gonna wear, and you know what they’re like, I- We can just make this a night out, this doesn’t have to be-”

“John,” You spoke his name softly, gently, settling down on the couch beside him with an easy smile. “It’s alright. I really don’t mind.”

“You sure? We could always go to a different club or something. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t notice.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I like your mates. And hey, you know, we can always lose them in the crowd.”

Brushing your fingers along the seam of his black satin shirt, you pushed your fingertips in, just below his shoulder, squeezing gently, reassuringly, insinuatingly.

“You said you’ve got moves,” you murmured, your fingers dropping to play with his hair. “You gonna put on a show for me tonight?”

John’s ever-steady gaze never wavered, even as you curled his pretty hair around your fingers.

“Maybe I’ll treat you.”

His voice cracked when you “accidentally” tugged on his hair.

“Ohhh,” You grinned. “Lucky me.”

And now here you were, moving against each other in the dark.

John really did know how to move. It just came naturally to him. The music flowed through his veins, his heart beating in time with the pounding bass, and all you could do was watch him and admire the nice boy who’d so softly changed your life.

He bought you a drink, then another, politely refusing your offer to get the next round in.

As predicted, you lost track of his friends almost immediately. You’d almost forgotten you weren’t there alone until John leaned down and murmured by your ear,

“D’you wanna get some air?”

There was no mistaking the intent behind his words, the way they wrapped around you, the spark they lit in his dark eyes despite the low club lights. Your pulse raced, your body reacting to every touch, every look, just the proximity of him, the promise of his presence.

What he meant was, do you want to go home? And you did. You couldn’t imagine wanting anything more in all your life.

/

John’s back hit the bakery door with a dull thunk. Giggling softly against his mouth, you apologised over and over, half muffled as he tried to kiss you between laughs, reassuring you that it was fine while his big hands pawed at your hips.

He tasted so good, you couldn’t bear the thought of moving away from him for even a second, so you fished around in your bag for the door keys without once breaking the kiss.

After several shaky attempts (thanks to John tugging your bottom lip between his teeth) you managed to turn the key, and together, you fell into the shop.

Stumbling backwards in his stupid platforms, John clung to your hips for support as you guided him through to the kitchen.

The thought of getting the next door open seemed too mammoth a task to even attempt at that moment, so instead you backed John up against it, pressing your body as close to his as you could, until you had almost been consumed by one another.

The protruding angles and flat planes of his narrow body felt sharp and unfamiliar as you sank into each other. Your mind swam with the endless possibilities; running your hands over his slim chest, kissing across his stomach, your hands keeping him pinned down with the slightest squeeze at his hips.

Every niggling worry you’d ever had about being good enough for John, about being with someone for the first time in years, about trusting someone with all of you, it had all washed away. All that remained was a chest fit to burst with love, and a desire so strong, it was all you could do to stop yourself asking if you could just have him right there and then.

John could obviously sense where your mind was wandering to, even as he moaned softly into your mouth. He squeezed your waist, then your hips, kissing you so deeply, your knees threatened to give way.

“We can’t do this here,” he managed to gasp out between kisses. “Not in the bakery.”

When you huffed a little laugh, your warm breath fanned across his cheek and he couldn’t resist the shiver that slipped down his spine.

You smiled against his mouth, pointed and pleased with yourself.

“My bakery now.”

John groaned roughly at your soft, low voice, and again as your tongue pressed against his. He opened himself up to you, letting you take his mouth as you pleased, his breathing growing heavy.

He couldn’t decide where he wanted his hands, they were everywhere, in your hair, pressing into your back to keep you close, tugging at your hips, his touches waking up your body and making your head spin.

“It’s always been yours.” John’s dark gaze met yours. “And so have I.”

You laughed, airy and quick, hoping to disguise just how much that meant to you, but John knew, John always knew. The last thread keeping your doubt and your fear yolked finally snapped.

Taking your keys from your hand, John half-turned to open the door, his free hand still palming and squeezing at your hip.

You tripped up the stairs together, giggling and breathless in your eagerness.

“You have too many doors,” John muttered when you reached your flat. “It’s like a bloody funhouse in here.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, John.”

He pressed the keys into your hand then tucked himself behind you so that you had room to unlock the door. Or so you thought. A shiver ran over your skin when you felt John’s breath on your bare shoulder, then his lips against your neck.

As he mouthed at your hot skin and grazed you with his teeth, you shakily jammed the key into the lock, finally managing to wiggle it open just as John dragged his tongue over a spot that made you want to completely unravel.

There was no time to savour the ritual of undressing each other, neither you nor John had the patience for it right now. Instead, you practically tore his pretty satin shirt open, dragging the sleeves down his arms as you backed him up towards the bed, never once breaking the kiss.

“Oh God,” John laughed softly against your mouth when the cuff of one of his sleeves got caught on his watch. “Hang on, love. I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

“I know, but I’ve been wanting to do this to you for months. You can’t blame a girl for being impatient.”

“‘To me’?” John grinned as he shook off his shirt. “You mean ‘with me’?”

You just smiled and pulled him back down to kiss you.

Head still spinning from the nightclub, the rum in your blood, John’s aftershave, John’s everything, you hardly noticed him slipping his long fingers under the hem of your dress and pulling up and up and up, until you begrudgingly had to stop kissing him to let John pull it over your head.

“Oh, wow.”

It was all you allowed John before you planted both hands against his chest and pushed him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

You kicked off your uncomfortable shoes and got rid of your bra, and all the while John watched you with warm, full eyes, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and for the first time in your life, you believed a boy looking at you.

“Yeah?”

Your movements slowed under his heavy gaze. Something about the look on John’s face made you want to take a breath.

When he raised his hands, you moved closer without a word, standing between John’s knees while he looked up at you in awe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your sternum.

When his fingers pressed into your bare skin, you tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.

John looked up at you curiously, his clever grey-green eyes so clear and bright.

“Sorry,” You smiled. “Not used to- It’s been a while. Not used to being touched there. Feels a bit…”

“What?”

John punctuated his question with a soft kiss pressed sweetly to the swell of your right breast. His other hand came up to cup the other gently, his thumb sweeping across you, circling and circling, his sharp eyes never leaving yours.

“The last boy…”

“The idiot?”

You smiled.

“Yeah, that one. He didn’t really like the way I looked.”

“What’s not to like?”

John frowned.

It wasn’t really question but you felt the need to explain.

“Kept trying to “help” me. Used to piss me off no end. Eventually, he stopped touching me. Wasn’t seeing him for very long but he was the last person…”

John shook his head, his brow furrowed, his funny mouth all turned down at the corners.

“I can’t believe you gave him the time of day.”

“Well, he had his own car...”

“Fair enough.”

John briefly smiled, then he shook his head again, as if he couldn’t even joke about it.

“I’m glad you’re shot of him. Means I get you all to myself. And to me, you feel soft…”

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the middle of your belly, taking his time, dragging his teeth, his eyes closed to savour the feeling.

“And warm…”

Another kiss, this one to the left of your navel, while his fingers pressed into your hips and tugged you closer, until the tip of his nose was buried in your stomach.

”And inviting…”

Cheeks burning, you slipped your fingers into his hair, grazing your nails across his scalp.

“John…”

John’s stare met yours as his hands slipped round to squeeze your arse, pulling you closer still. His open mouth split into a grin before he bent his head to drag his tongue across your skin.

“You’re perfect. You’re so beautiful, love.”

It wasn’t often you were left speechless, but if anyone was going to manage it, it would be John Deacon.

You bit your lip, shaking your head to yourself, as you quietly watched him press more and more kisses down the centre of your stomach.

“Been wanting to touch you like this since the first time I saw you.”

John had spent so long thinking about kissing you like this, imagining how you would feel, how you’d taste, the lovely sounds you’d make, how your body would feel against his, and now he’d got his answers, he never wanted to stop.

You laughed as you closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against your shoulders, giving yourself up to him. It was hard to focus, so you just let him press little kisses all over your body, round your hips, across your belly, down your thighs, until his fingers slipped between your legs and you gasped, electricity shooting through your veins.

Biting back a smile, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled it up between you, like you’d caught him stealing. The excited smile was wiped from John’s face when you leaned in close and murmured against his neck,

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

“‘s funny,” John stretched his long fingers out, splaying then relaxing them again, testing the strength and limit of your grip on his wrist. “I thought I was exactly where I needed to be.”

“‘Needed’?”

“Mm hm.”

“Not ‘wanted’?”

“The two get sort of mixed up when I look at you. You’re very- You make them, erm, homonyms.”

“I think you mean ‘synonyms’.”

“It’s hard to concentrate with your tits in my face.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled. “We’re getting off topic.”

“Are we?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been talking?”

“John!”

He laughed when you batted his shoulder.

“Love, I can barely remember my own name right now.”

“You were getting ahead of yourself.”

“Actually, I do remember disputing that.”

“Of course you do.”

“What’s your point, love?”

“My point is,” You carefully placed your knee on the mattress beside John’s hip. “I didn’t say you could touch me there.”

John’s eyes switched excitedly across your face, but his easy smile faded as you straddled his thighs, settling in his lap.

You sighed and looped your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into his thick, dark hair.

“I didn’t realise-” John swallowed when your bare chest pressed against his. “I had to ask permission.”

Feigning confusion, you frowned quizzically, and all the while, you slowly grazed your nails across John’s scalp. He shivered against you, his muscles shifting beneath his pale skin.

“We’ve known each other for almost a year, John. Have I ever given you the impression that you’d be calling the shots here?”

There was a point in his neck, neatly positioned between his shoulder and his protruding collarbone. You could see the steady, perfect bass line of his heartbeat pulsing under his skin. It jumped when you rolled your body into his.

“Couldn’t help myself,” John let his heavy eyelids close, focusing on keeping his breathing even. “Did I mention you’re beautiful?”

You tilted his head back and kissed him, your tongue rolling over his, too riled up to wait for permission. You kept his chin up with your hand against his throat, the pad of your thumb pressing into his thready pulse.

Kissing John was unlike anything you’d ever known. Other boys grabbed at you, pressed selfishly into you, taking what they wanted and not caring how it felt for you. They were too rough, unimaginative, or simply just looking for a way to stave off boredom. But John…

As John’s lips moved against yours, it felt as if you were speaking the same language as someone for the first time in your life.

Skilled hands smoothed up and down your back, finding every part you wanted him to find, every part you wanted him to warm, as if he could read your mind. His lovely nose bumped yours whenever he turned his head and you could feel his smile every time you made an appreciative sound.

He was attentive, thoughtful, just like you knew he would be, just like he was when he played. He might look like his mind was elsewhere, but John was honed in on every note. He knew them all, he knew you too.

You must’ve shifted just where he needed you, must’ve slotted your body against his in just the right way, because John suddenly broke the kiss with a wet sound that made you swear under your breath.

He cut you off with a low, sonorous moan, his soft lips parting so you could see his pretty, pink, antagonising tongue.

“Just like-” He groaned again and this time his big hands found your hips, moving you so that you rocked against him just like he needed again. “That feels good. Shit-”

You could feel the hard outline of him through his stupid tight cord trousers. The friction alone was enough to send thrums of electricity through your body.

You hummed, pleased with yourself. You were admittedly a little rusty. Before tonight, you had half a mind to warn John just how long it had been since you’d been intimate with anyone, but it appeared you hadn’t lost the knack. Either that, or John was extremely receptive.

Beneath you, he moaned and let his head fall forward until his face was buried in your chest, his voice vibrating through you. All you were doing was rocking your hips into his, tugging on his hair, grazing your lips by his jaw. Yes, very receptive. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on him properly.

Then again, you had never dared to ask how long it had been for him either. You weren’t stupid, John had been with girls before you, at home, at uni. He’d never mentioned anyone. Maybe there was no one worth talking about. Anyway, everyone in your life seemed to agree that when quiet, thoughtful, reticent John finally did speak, the only thing he wanted to talk about was you.

You kissed him again, twice, three times, then squeezed his shoulder.

“Get comfy. I’ll stick some music on.”

You wobbled to the record player on unsteady legs and put on something soft and slow, warm and romantic.

When you came back, John had shuffled up the bed until his back was against the headboard. He looked so silly, sat there shirtless, his trousers and heels still on.

His sharp eyes followed you as you moved around the bed, but John wore an enormous grin, his face flushed, his slim chest heaving. He was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Did you mean to say that out loud?” John asked, his smile growing.

In an effort to mask your embarrassment, you wrapped your hand around one of his ankles and gently tugged him round until his legs were hanging off the side of the bed.

Giggling together, you hefted his leg up to your waist and pushed up his trouser leg.

“I love these shoes,” you murmured, admiring his black and white patent heels. “You’re such a bloody tease, Deacon.”

Sitting up on his elbows now, John raised his eyebrows as you started to unlace one of his platforms for him.

“You like them?”

“Like them? I’m trying to decide whether I should make you leave them on.”

You took off one shoe, then the other, dropping them to the floor so you could kick them under the bed. His trousers came off next, leaving you both in just your underwear.

You said it yourself, you’d known each other for almost a year now. That was a long time to wait to touch each other. John seemed to agree.

As you settled back in his lap, his hands immediately found your hips, pulling you down so that you could feel exactly what you did to him, and the infinitesimal strands holding the last of your reservations together finally snapped.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmured the words against his lips this time, so he knew you meant it. “I love your mouth so much.”

Curiosity sparked behind John’s eyes, and you wondered if anyone had ever said anything even remotely similar to him before.

With one hand resting on his narrow shoulder for balance, you took the other and dragged the pad of your thumb across John’s bottom lip, taking your time. They were a little chapped, he was always worrying them between his teeth, and a shade darker than usual tonight, bruised by your own.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to play with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

John’s eyes widened, his lips falling open as a soft moan escaped him, one you were sure was completely involuntary.

Beaming, you reached down between you and wrapped your other hand around him through his straining underwear.

Those eyes again, they gave away so much. John’s expression hardly twitched, but his eyes grew glossy and heavy as you worked him, purposefully slow, until he had completely melted into you.

“Goddd, feels so good…” His eyes rolled closed, his jaw slack. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

With the tip of your index finger, you grazed his bottom lip, then dipped in a little. John cracked his eyes open, you could feel him watching you with interest. Breathing shakily, you kept going, parting his lips to gently push your finger against his tongue.

“What do we say?”

John’s brow furrowed, summoning up a crease between his eyebrows that you couldn’t resist kissing away.

“Please,” he gasped out.

Your finger slipped into his warm mouth with ease. John immediately swirled his tongue around it, whimpering and moaning as he sucked gently, so needy for you that his hips bucked up into your hand

“Oh, dear…” you practically purred. “Someone’s eager.”

John groaned around your finger, his eyes widening when you added another. He squeezed your hips in time with every stroke of your hand, silently urging you to keep going while his mouth was occupied.

Once he’d got them nice and wet, you pulled back your fingers and drew your index along his bottom lip.

“Good boy,” you whispered, then popped your fingers into your own mouth to taste him with a moan. “You’re even sweeter than you look, my darlin’.”

John thought he must’ve died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation for it. How else could he be here, with you, your lips against his and your hands anywhere you wanted them?

You kissed both his pink cheeks, then the corner of his lovely mouth, and all the while, you palmed him through his stupid tight pants.

John looked up at you like it pained him to not have your mouth on his properly, but your hand pressing firmly down on his hard length pulled his expression from agony to ecstasy.

“Love, if you don’t do something soon, I swear, I’m gonna-“

“What?”

You removed your hand, eyebrows raised.

John bit his lip, trying heroically to hold back, but he couldn’t help it. He let out a disappointed whine.

“Love…”

He bucked his hips, trying to press himself into your hand.

Satisfied, you carefully clambered off him.

“Mm, that’s what I thought.”

“Wait…”

John tried to pull you back into him but you distracted him with a deep, searing kiss, keeping his brain occupied so your hands could work.

Though he missed you being close to him, John couldn’t keep the grin from his face as you pushed him down flat on the bed, his head safely nestled against the pillows.

In his chest, his heart was pounding like a bass drum. He wanted to shout so your neighbours could hear. He wanted to run to the windows and declare to the whole city that this was the greatest night of his life. He wanted to tell the world that he was the happiest he’d ever been and he was in bed with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. But he settled for gazing up at you and thanking his lucky stars.

Kneeling beside him now, you took a moment for yourself to just enjoy the scene before you. It was selfish really but you thought John could stand to wait a few seconds while you took him in.

His long hair was spread out across the pillow, dark curls that took hours to set just right. You smiled to yourself.

He was a walking contradiction. He was such a low maintenance boy, so happy to do whatever you wanted to do. No fancy clothes, no ridiculous car, no expensive bad habits. But John cared about how we looked. He cared about doing well at uni. He understood music better than most and cared about Queen’s future. He just never made it anyone else’s problem.

It was only in the last few months that you’d really seen him open up. You couldn’t wait to discover the rest of him. ‘Easy Deacon’, they used to call him. Everything just came so naturally to John. You knew that wasn’t exactly true, but the thought of having a good, kind, lucky, sensible boy in your life, in your bed, might just be the most wonderful thing that ever happened to you.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about this,” you said.

John swallowed thickly when you pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then his sternum.

”Oh, yeah?”

He was still so slim, even after all your best effort. You could pick out each of his ribs as John sucked in a deep breath.

Kissing your way down his chest, you paused to rest your chin over his heart, trying to feel for it.

John’s head was thrown back, his jaw high and his neck exposed, so he didn’t see your fond smile, or the pang of emotion behind your eyes as you turned your head, aching to hear the rounded, powerful, thump thump thump of his heart.

It pounded harder than you expected. You could almost feel it pulsing against your cheek, strong and full and just for you.

“You’re having palpitations, Johnny.” You raised your head and caught his eyes. “You wanna stop and catch your breath?”

John exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh, there was no humour in it. He obviously didn’t think that was funny.

“If you stop now, I think I’ll pass out.”

“Well, can’t have that.”

You kissed your way down his chest, taking your time, savouring the feeling of his hot, flushed skin against your lips.

You took note of every muscle twitch, your ears pricking at every sharp intake of breath. Learning what made the famously stoic and impassive John Deacon moan and squirm was going to be fun.

You peppered more kisses down his chest, taking the time to flick your tongue across both nipples, just to make John’s hips stutter. Face flushed, he groaned almost in protest, but didn’t move to stop you at all.

You pushed further, kissing your way down his stomach, until John was half giggling, half whimpering. He bit down hard on his lip, his long fingers reaching out and finding a home in your hair, where he tugged ever so gently, like he was trying to spur you on but didn’t want to risk making you stop again.

“Love, that…” John hissed through his teeth as you licked a stripe up his belly. “That tickles.”

You laughed softly.

“Does it? Sorry.”

“No, don’t b- Ohn…”

You looked up at John, the skin just below his navel still caught between your teeth. You let it go slowly, dragging at his skin, and all the while you watched his pretty face contort and soften, his teeth practically embedded in his bottom lip.

“Sorry, what was that?”

John huffed, his fingers tightening in your hair as you kissed down the front of his underwear, slow and hot, teasing him on purpose, drifting so close to where he desperately wanted to be touched, but never quite there.

Enough torture. You hooked your fingers under the waistband of his pants and slowly dragged them down his pale thighs, pausing only to place kisses on either side of his bony hips, and the contrasting softness of his inner thighs.

“Just relax, Johnny. It’s only me.”

You smiled against his skin, watching his face contort and shift as you tugged the waistband of his underwear down against him, a mean trick but worth it for the soft little noises he gave in response.

“I’ve got you, love. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

John whimpered, his chest rising and falling fast. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as you pulled his pants all the way down, until his aching cock was pressed against his stomach.

“Oh, hello,” You laughed, disguising just how embarrassingly turned on you were with a quirked eyebrow and a wobbly smile. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Despite his nerves, John huffed a little laugh too.

It had been a while since anyone had seen him like this. Somehow, it felt like the first time. You were the most important thing in his life, the most beautiful, wonderful person he’d ever known, it mattered what you thought, it mattered that you liked how he looked.

He watched you take him in, watched your pretty eyes cross his body, and for once, didn’t feel self-conscious under someone else’s gaze. John knew you wouldn’t care what he looked like but he couldn’t help blooming with pride, his cheeks prickling at the pleased look on your face.

John sucked in a sharp breath as your hand wrapped around him, moving up and down his length slowly, almost absent-mindedly, while you soaked up every new detail exposed to you, every new valley and slope, memorising every detail of his body until you could see him behind your closed eyes.

Then you squeezed him, testing the boundaries of his patience, and John lost all sense of bravado and decorum. He groaned, letting his head drop back against the pillow, panting now.

“Fuck, sweetheart, please…”

You tilted your head to the side, feigning obliviousness.

“Please what, love?”

“Just, please…” John moaned again, his hips pressing up into your hand, searching desperately for more pressure, friction, anything. “Please touch me. Feel like I’m gonna…”

You didn’t get to hear the rest, John’s eyes suddenly widened and he put his much larger hand over yours.

“Wait, this isn’t right. I should be- I should take care of you first.”

“What? Because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do?”

“No! Well, no- No, that’s not why I’m asking. I want to make you feel good. I should get you off first.”

Somehow, even though you had his dick in your hand, hearing John talk about ‘getting you off’ made you go all bashful.

“Why should you?”

“Well,” Looking oddly relaxed for someone in his position, John sat up on his elbows. “It’s just maths, innit.”

“Don’t say ‘innit’, you’re from Oadby.”

“I’m finally picking up the lingo. My point is, it’s maths.”

“Is it now?”

You smiled and sat back on your knees.

John’s eyes followed your hands as they left his body to drag across the mattress. Being cheeky had been a risky move and he’d miscalculated, you weren’t touching him anymore. He’d have to make sure it was worth it.

“I’m a bloke. You can cum again and again and again, but I get one shot at this. Two if I’m lucky… Three would probably kill me.”

“It’s tempting right now.”

“I’m just saying,” John’s grin was toothy and silly. He looked about the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. “I’d like to get a few in before I, you know, close up shop.”

“Well…”

You carefully placed your hands on either side of his body so that you could move over him. Placing your knee between his thighs, you leaned in close to murmur against his lips.

“How’s about I take care of you, properly. Like I’ve been thinking and dreaming about doing for… Hm, when did you start at the bakery?”

“30th January.”

“Right. Six whole months, John.”

“Almost seven.”

“Almost seven! Yes! Y’see!”

You kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheek, while John laughed softly, nuzzling his face against yours.

“How about… I take care of you. And then you can - what was it you said? - make me cum again…”

You kissed him.

“And again…”

Another soft kiss that made John’s whole body light up.

“And again…”

The rough pads of his bass-bitten fingers grazed your scalp as John slipped a hand back into your hair, keeping your mouth fixed to his, as if letting you move away would be allowing you, the night, that moment, to disappear.

Moaning softly into your mouth, John ran his tongue over yours, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re very persuasive.”

You grinned, feeling silly and happy and safe.

“‘s just maths, innit.”

“Mm,” John nodded and kissed you again, then pressed his nose to yours. “Sounds much better coming from you.”

“What was that about ‘coming?’”

“Oh-hoh, you’re on fire tonight.”

“Well, let’s see, shall we?”

You wrapped your hand around him and swallowed his surprised groan with a deep, slow kiss, matching the movement of your hand with your lips.

John shuddered beneath you, gripping you tight as your thumb absentmindedly swiped over the head of his cock.

Completely lacking all composure now, John’s hips jerked up into your hand, chasing a high you couldn’t wait to give him.

“You’re so fucking pretty, John.”

Cheeks tinged pink, he turned and buried his face in your forearm.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll-” He choked, his hips jumping into your hand. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

Smiling, you leaned down to kiss him slowly.

“That’s kind of the point, pretty boy.”

The only sign that he’d heard and understood you was a keening moan.

John shut his eyes, his brow furrowed like he was concentrating, the same sweet little frown he got when he played the bass.

Your cheeks were starting to ache, you were so smiling so broadly. With one knee, you gently nudged his legs further apart, then hooked your hand under one of his knees so that his foot was firmly planted on the bed.

John opened his eyes but there was nothing behind them. He blinked at you, his mouth open, his pale, slim chest heaving. He had just enough wherewithal to ask,

“What..?”

Still smiling, you swapped hands, getting him off with one while you slipped the fingers of your dominant hand into your mouth.

John’s pretty eyes dropped to follow your hand as it fell between his thighs.

“Trust me?”

He bit his lip, eyes wide, when you circled his entrance, massaging it. You could feel his whole body seize up immediately, like you’d electrocuted him. Then, just when you thought he might ask you to stop, he said,

“Yes.”

It was only a whisper, so you made him repeat himself, just to make sure.

John nodded furiously, repeating ‘yes yes yes’ over and over as you pushed your finger against him.

John’s legs instinctively rose to hook around your lower body, his ankles crossing almost delicately behind you while he gasped and huffed, kneading at your hips to keep himself grounded as you gently worked him open with one finger.

You swallowed his hiccuping moan with another kiss, keeping him distracted, getting him used to the unfamiliar feeling.

“Relax, sweetheart,” you said, dropping your other hand to soothingly rub his thigh. “Just wanna make you feel good. Can you take over, sweetheart, while I..?”

Without loosing a beat, John’s fingers brushed yours as he wrapped them around his cock. You gave him one final squeeze before you let go.

You could wiggle your finger around now, and you worked a second in, twisting and scissoring, dropping little words of praise and encouragement when John began to grind down on your hand.

“Ohhnfuuck…” he moaned, his head flung back to expose his neck.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, watched his pulse jump under his jaw, and felt a swell of affection when John moaned your name. His tried to speak but his voice cracked, punctuated by sharp gasps whenever you pushed that little bit further.

“That’s it, pretty boy. That’s it. Just like that, sweetheart.”

Keeping your fingers moving steadily, you bent your head and nipped at his belly, then his pelvis, making your way down until you could nudge his hand away with your nose.

John seemed to begrudge the thought of letting go but you kissed his fingertips, then the base of his cock, and he released himself with a frustrated whine.

“Love, I’m-”

You stopped him complaining by dragging your tongue up the underside of him. John completely melted under your touch, his voice wobbling uncontrollably as you swirled your tongue around his head.

“Sweetheart, please, please, please-”

“Please what, Johnny?”

“Please don’t stop, please please please don’t stop, feels so fucking good when you- Ah!”

Though your muscles ached, you couldn’t imagine stopping now, not with John begging like that, so you shifted the position of your hand.

“When I what, honey?”

The new angle made John tense up again, his wispy little fringe now sticking to his forehead. But then you took him in your mouth, licking him clean and sucking at his swollen tip, and his whole body went slack.

“Ohhhn, when you fuck me like that.”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned around his cock, long and half feral, the vibrations making John’s eyes roll back.

Still your fingers fucked into him, stretching and pushing towards a pleasure that John wouldn’t have believed was possible, and then you hit a sweet spot inside him that made his back arch off the bed.

“Right there,” he gasped out, eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling. “Right there, that’s it, right there, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”

”I won’t, I won’t. I’ve got you, sweet boy.”

He took himself in his hand again, squeezing and tugging. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Seeing John like this, completely at your mercy, his mind completely disconnected from his body, it made your belly twist. He was completely yours, this was all just for you.

John cried out, begging you to go faster, so you did, and his hand sped up to match your thrusts. He squirmed against you, rocking his hips so he was practically bouncing on your fingers now.

“Ohhh, love,” You beamed against his bony hip. “You gonna cum like this, baby boy? With my fingers inside you?”

John half moaned, half laughed, almost in disbelief.

“God, I fucking am. Love, I’m-”

You leaned over him to brush his hair back from his damp forehead and kissed him softly, only slowing your thrusting fingers so that you could crook them inside him.

“C’mon, love. C’mon, Johnny, cum for me.”

Always so eager to please. Your only warning was one last sharp jerk of his hips before he suddenly came with another broken moan. It sent a jolt of white-hot desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

John’s grip on your hips was so tight, he was sure to have left bruises, and all the while he whimpered and called your name, his face flushed and pink.

Feeling just as breathless, you kissed and kissed him until John’s body slowly collapsed under you. You carefully drew back your fingers, just barely biting back a moan when John weakly protested.

He pulled you close, but it wasn’t enough, so - still gasping and buzzing with pleasure - John carefully guided your arms out from under you so that you had to lay on top of him, your bodies completely intertwined.

“You’re-” John kissed you lazily, his mind still somewhere out past Saturn. “That was amazing. You’re so beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He barely knew what he was saying, he just had to let you know that you’d made him feel more than he ever thought possible. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else other than right here, right now.

Content and warm, you buried your face in his neck, catching your breath as John dragged his hands up and down your back.

“You were so good, John. Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

He smiled. He couldn’t believe you were thanking him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He couldn’t believe crossing the road to see about a job had led him to this. In bed with you, just before dawn, sweaty and sticky and exhausted and gasping for breath, John felt like he’d finally found the home he’d been looking for all his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s your turn next, sweetheart. Give me two minutes and I’ll do the same for you.”

“Just two? Look at you.”

“You’re very inspiring, what can I say.”

You smiled against his skin, pressing your thighs together at the thought.

You considered getting up to open the window and let in some fresh, cooling air. You wanted to help John get cleaned up before the next round. More than that, you wanted to lay back and let him kiss down your body, till he’d seen to the mess he’d made.

You kissed him again, slow and languid. There was no need to rush. You had all the time in the world.

/

The bakery was alive again.

Like a pot set to boil slowly, incrementally over time, you hadn’t realised how anaemic the place had become until it was too late. Almost too late. With Alastair gone and the summer at its peak, 64 Oslo Square was back to its former glory, a shining jewel at the far end of Kensington High Street.

You kneaded dough with motions you knew by heart. There was a rhyme and rhythm to it, a particular push of your hands, a drag of your fingers, a dig with the heels of your palms.

You rolled the dough between your hands, forming and shaping it like a potter at their wheel, until it was the perfect consistency to divide and drop into proofing baskets.

There was music in the air. Mickey’s old radio oozed out Diana Ross, Tony Orlando, Free and Bowie, and he sang along to every word. How he knew them all by heart, you’d never know, but he never skipped a beat.

Equally vocal was John. He was leaning against the kitchen island, where he was supposed to be making butter cream. Instead, he had his head in the book he’d just bought, a textbook he’d need for his second year. He’d been reading out passages he thought were particularly interesting, and you and Mickey had been trying your best to humour him.

John recited a particularly convoluted paragraph, and Mickey actually laughed at how ridiculously complex it sounded.

“Hang on, say that one more time?”

You brushed off the flour from your hands, watching it cascade through the air like gold dust in the morning sunlight.

“Yeah, no, sorry, sweetheart. You’ve lost us.”

John turned the book around and held it up so that you could see the page he was reading from.

“Here, have a look!”

“My love, that might as well be written in Greek for all the sense it makes to me.”

“Well, some of it is Greek. It’s Physics.”

Behind you, meticulously icing fruit tarts, Mickey snorted.

You shot John a wry look.

“Well, I walked into that one.”

John turned the book back to face him.

You watched him with a fond smile, then pushed the loaves you’d made into the oven.

He got this look on his face when he was talking about his studies. John was completely in his element. All the nervousness and shyness dissipated when there was simple, honest, unconditional science to talk about.

He shrugged, shutting the thick book with a heavy snap.

“I know it’s boring-”

“It’s not boring, John, I just think it’s wasted on us.”

“Don’t be daft, you’re the smartest person I know.”

“Ta!” Mickey chimed in.

You ignored him, though it was nice to see Mickey so cheery. The last few months had been hard for all of you, but he had a family to worry about, a newborn, a mortgage. Now Alastair’s heavy chains had dropped from your ankles, the bakery was making enough for you all to live a little more easily, and Mickey had started to whistle again, bright and cheery and carefree.

While the bread proved, you set about preparing tomorrow’s croissants.

“The smartest person you know besides you, you mean,” you said to John, picking up the conversation again while you went to grab the right ingredients.

“Well, what else am I here for? Aren’t I the brains?” John smiled. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

Grinning now, you tapped his thigh as you passed by.

“Don’t forget the legs.”

“I thought that was you?”

“Ohh, someone woke up in a good mood.”

“Wonder why.”

John reached out and tried to pinch your hip but you just slipped out of reach.

Plunking flour, eggs and sugar down on the metal counter, you took a deep breath before falling into the pattern of a lifetime. It was all second nature by now, like the steps of a dance or the words to a favourite song. You’d never forget the moves for as long as you lived, you could probably make them blindfolded, with one arm tied behind your back. It was good to be back.

“C’mon then,” You nodded to the textbook in John’s hands. “What else you got? Anything that’ll get you mixing faster?”

John huffed, lifting himself up to perch on the edge of the counter.

“It’s thanks to this book that you even have a mixer.”

“Oi, watch it, New Boy. I’m your boss, remember.”

John grinned at you across the island. It was an almost challenging look. Come shut me up. Come kiss me. I know you want to.

“Can bosses get the sack for fraternising with the staff?”

Startled, you looked over your shoulder at Mickey. You’d almost forgotten you weren’t alone in the kitchen with John.

Mickey tugged a cigarette down from where it had been tucked behind his ear and flicked it up, catching it in his mouth just to show off. He raised his eyebrows at you, then at John.

“I only ask cos I got an earful this morning I’m not gonna forget in an ‘urry. It’d do me a favour if you were legally obligated to never, ever do that again. At least while I’m in earshot.”

Cheeks burning, you refused to look at John.

Images of that morning flashed through your mind.

You had to be up early to get the bakery warmed up, and John needed to get on his stupid bike and make his rounds. You’d flung out a sleep-heavy arm to silence your alarm, and in the time it took you to draw it back under the warmth and safety of the covers, John had moved on top of you.

Between soft, slow, drowsy kisses, he lazily slipped inside you, dragging his hips back and forward against yours as you gasped into his mouth.

You came clinging to his back, your ankles hooked around his hips, his tongue in your mouth and your name in his throat.

When you came downstairs together. Mickey had already started warming up the ovens. You had paused, momentarily startled. Mickey was early for once. But you brushed your surprise away and slipped on an easy smile. There was no way he would've been able to hear you, and there were a hundred perfectly innocent reasons why John could’ve been upstairs with you.

Idiot.

“Oh,” You pulled a face, aiming for apologetic and ending up at awkward. “Sorry, Mickey.”

He just laughed and headed out into the alley for his smoke break.

Turning to John, you grimaced.

“Whoops.”

Looking about as embarrassed as you felt, he held out his hand to you. John guided you around the counter until you were standing between his knees, his hands immediately resting on your hips like it was second nature.

“Alright, so your walls are thinner than we thought. Lesson learnt.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Me!” John laughed. “Can I take you out tonight?”

“Depends. Where you taking me?”

“Thought we could go to the pictures? Get some dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “And your electric stuff is very cool, John. I was only teasing you.”

Smiling like a cat curled up in front of the fire, John squeezed your hips reassuringly.

“I know.”

“Not just a pretty face, eh?”

John looked sheepish.

“Well, you know, you’re always saying-”

You kissed him once, twice, then his nose again.

“You’re very pretty.”

“No…”

John barely put up a fight. It was hard enough arguing with you at the best of times, he could barely concentrate when you were so close, your floury hands cupping his face, your lips so close to his.

“Yes! Twice as pretty as Roger.”

John let his head grow heavy, relaxing completely until all that supported him were your hands under his jaw. While you giggled at his exhausted expression, John shook his head

“Now you’re just being silly.”

Your heart felt so full, it threatened to spill over.

There had been a small worry, so small it barely warranted entertaining, right in the back of your mind. It liked to remind you that the dynamics of your relationship with John had forever shifted.

What if things felt different now? Under these new parameters, there would be no more longing looks across the bakery, no dancing and stumbling around each other, no more tension and uncertainty. What if the sudden expectations and roles made things awkward?

A smaller, even stupider part of your brain had even been afraid that John would wake up and - in the cold, harsh light of the morning - decide he'd changed his mind.

That particular worry was extinguished almost as quickly as it sprang into life. When John hooked one long, slim leg through yours and moaned into your mouth that you were absolutely perfect, you could have laughed at yourself for ever worrying if your mouth hadn’t been full of his name, then his tongue.

But no, here, alone in the kitchen where you came to know each other, looking and smiling at each other like you were the only two people in the world, you knew nothing good had changed. It made you wonder just how long you’d belonged to each other without knowing it.

“I mean it!” You laughed softly when you brushed your hand over his cheek and John pretended to nip at your fingertips. “You’ve got pretty eyes…”

You kissed a spot under both of his eyes, right on the apple of John’s cheeks. His smile pressed into your palms

“And pretty hair…”

“You’re so odd, love.”

“And nice eyebrows…”

John laughed, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“My eyebrows are nice?”

“And you’ve got a great nose…” You kissed it to prove a point, then grazed your fingertip along the outline of his bottom lip. “I love your funny little mouth.”

John raised his eyebrows.

“What’s so funny about my mouth?”

“Nothing!”

“My mouth works just fine, thank you.”

You grinned.

“I’m well aware.”

Shaking his head slightly, his cheeks tinged pink, John asked,

“You really think I’m pretty?”

“I really do, John.”

“I think you’re pretty too. I think you’re beautiful.”

John smiled softly as you leaned in to kiss him, and you could still feel him smiling against your mouth as you tilted his head back with one finger under his jaw.

He pulled you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs at first, before they slid up and bunched up your apron.

You had half a mind to pull away and check over your shoulder, just to make sure Mickey wasn’t about to walk in on you. You could hear Gladys a mile away, so you didn’t have to worry about her catching you, but you’d never live it down if Mickey had to bleach his eyes as well as his ears.

John brushed his nose against yours sweetly, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. He was so handsome when he was like this, all relaxed and confident and putty in your hands.

“That thing you did,” he said quietly. “Last night.”

You hummed, only half listening as you leaned down to kiss him again.

“Think you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I don’t think I do.”

John raised his eyebrows and you bit back a smile, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and proud of yourself.

You’d been waiting for him to bring it up, but when he didn’t say anything last night or this morning, you wondered if maybe he didn’t like it. His body certainly reacted positively, but sometimes there was a disconnect, a barrier, between what was felt physically and what was felt emotionally.

“Is that something you’ve done before?”

“Maybe.” Though your cheeks burned, you kept up your grin, never wanting to give away just how much John flustered you. “Or maybe I just saw you there, all wet and desperate, and couldn’t help myself.”

John’s eyes widened a fraction, like he couldn’t believe you would dare to say something so outrageous within a few feet of your colleagues and countless hungry customers.

Bending his head, he let his forehead rest against your chest, his hands tense on your hips.

“You’re terrible,” he grumbled, the sound muffled against your apron.

You couldn’t resist, you slipped your fingers into his thick hair, combing it through and playing with the odd curl.

He really was so wonderful, a ridiculous mix of pretty boy and handsome mechanic. There wasn’t anything John Deacon couldn’t do. He played every part so well without ever not being himself, and he was all yours.

“Did you like it?” you asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

John quietly huffed.

“I think that was fairly obvious.”

“Because we could do it again. And more, if you like.”

John raised his head.

“More?”

You kept your hand in his hair, grazing and tugging his curls around your fingers. It kept you grounded, kept you from pulling back and changing the subject and apologising for even asking. It wasn’t exactly embarrassing, just a lot to say out loud, especially with John looking at you like that.

“Yeah, you know…” You shrugged, fighting back a smile and losing. “I could use more than just my fingers.”

“Oh.” John’s eyes widened a fraction but that was all he gave away. “Would you… Want to?”

“Yes. Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

The tension between you was building again, a push me, pull you of daring looks and lingering touches, toeing the line a little more with every word passed between you.

“I…” John opened his mouth, closed it again, then said, “I trust you with me.”

There was a flicker of nervousness in his grey eyes but no hesitancy, no uncertainty.

Even just thinking about it left your mouth feeling dry, and from the way John’s fingers tightened on the backs of your thighs, threatening to slip up under your dress and beyond, he was thinking about it too.

“Still can’t really believe it,” he said softly.

“Well, you know, it’s not that uncommon. You’d be surpri-”

“No, I mean,” John laughed softly and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Can’t believe I’m here. With you.”

“Oh!” With a grin you brushed back his hair and tucked it behind his ear for him. “Well, I’m very glad you decided to stick around, New Boy. Well, not so new anymore.”

John hummed and leant his head in your hands again, nuzzling his cheek against your palms.

He’d gone all soft on you. You tried to pinpoint exactly when that could have happened, but came up empty. He’d always been sweet but recently, perhaps over the last few weeks, John had shown a vulnerability that he’d hidden behind clever words and smiles.

When did give himself over to you? Welcoming him into your little family had done wonders for John’s confidence, giving him somewhere that he felt safe and secure, where he had a set role and no doubt that he belonged.

But when had he become yours? When you were one of six people in the crowd to see his band play? When you took him into your home and patched him up, offering him love and comfort and a warm place to sleep? Or maybe it had been immediate, when you sent a stranger home with food just because he looked cold and hungry? Or maybe it was only recently. Maybe seeing how his friends welcomed you into his own odd little family had been the final nail.

Running your fingers through his soft hair, you knew you wouldn’t ever know when this started, when John had solidified himself in your life, but you were oh so very glad that he did.

The bakery door opened. You barely registered it, just a faint chime in the back of your head. You almost, almost ignored it. But something about the sound sent goosebumps shivering up your arms and down your back. Something told you to look up and pay attention.

Through the kitchen doorway, you could hear familiar voices. The same customers came by every day, or weekly, you knew them all by heart. They knew you as you knew them. There was a warmth there, a rare connection for this part of the city.

One voice, cold and discordant, cut through the rest like a bow pulled too sharply across violin strings.

Without taking your eyes off the kitchen doorway, you squeezed John’s hands, then gently let them go.

“Hang on, love.”

Heart thudding, you made it to the doorway just in time to catch Alastair moving round the counter towards Gladys.

Immediately, a coppery taste rose under your tongue, like blood, adrenaline. Your hands balled into fists and you didn’t know if you were afraid or furious or just shocked, but you froze in the doorway, unable to move any part of you apart from your wide eyes.

“Gladys, love,” Alastair smiled like an anglerfish as he drew closer. “You have to give me another chance. I was just trying to do what’s best for you.”

The bakery door closed behind the last customer, you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. The shop was empty, apart from one woman, seated at a table in the corner, busy fussing over her baby.

“You’re being ridiculous, love. You know I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to help-”

“Alastair.”

You stopped him with his hand raised in the air, reaching out to Gladys, fingers curled inwards like claws. The big bad wolf.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

Alastair slowly dragged his gaze away from his target. His lip curled in irritation, almost like you bored him. You were just something to scrape off the bottom of his custom-made Italian leather shoes.

The sound of his name caught John’s attention. You felt his chest against your back but he didn’t touch you, just kept close, keeping watch but never interfering. Still, it meant there was now another man in the room, and Alastair’s attitude shifted accordingly.

He straightened his long back, pulled back his hand and tucked it behind him. His mouth shifted into something more friendly but his eyes he had less control over. They stayed cold and steady and fixed on you.

“There you are.” He tried to smile but didn’t understand the mechanics. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot, darling. But now everything’s out in the open, I really think we can come to some kind of agreement. I mean, you’re sitting on a goldmine here, sweetheart.”

Behind you, John scowled.

“Don’t call her that.”

Alastair pretended not to hear him.

“You don’t even know what you have here.”

You caught Gladys’ eye. This place was just as much her home as it was yours, if not more so. She bought a tiny corner of a bomb-stricken street, fixed it up, loved it into living, and filled it with good things to feed her community.

Until recently, until Alastair, she’d never had a day off, she’d never called in sick, she never complained or argued or admitted defeat. The fire that burned in her had been dampened but never snuffed out, and now it was back, roaring and clawing past the bars of its cage. And she’d passed it on to you.

“I do, actually,” you said, and Gladys smiled.

Alastair laughed drily, humourlessly, and there was no doubt that he thought you were beyond stupid, that you were all beneath him, that he understood the world better than any of you ever could.

“Honey, in ten years, this city is going to look completely different.”

He took a step towards you and you felt John tense.

“Twenty, thirty years down the line, this space will be worth triple what she bought it for. More than that. If you give it to me, I can talk to the right people, I can get you a good deal. Sweetheart, I can make you rich.”

“Alastair, I’ve been waitin’ a long time to say this: get the fuck ou’ of my bakery.”

Frantic now, he turned his gaze to John.

“You, you’re the boyfriend, right? Can you talk some sense into your girl? She’ll listen to you. You’re a smart bloke, I can tell. You can see what they can’t, right? C’mon, you and me, we know we can’t leave decisions like this up to- Well, a couple of girls playing business. We both know it’s too much for them.”

“Skip asked you to leave,” John said, terse and stern. ”Much more politely than you deserve.”

When Mickey came to see what was going on, Alastair took a step backwards. A smart move but not nearly quick enough.

Without a word from any of you, Mickey immediately understood what was happening and knew what the situation demanded.

Alastair raised his hands, his warped smile trembling at the corners. He shrank back as Mickey made his way towards him.

“Michael,” He shook his head, his cold eyes darting everywhere. “Michael, you-”

“Oh, mate.” Mickey grabbed Alastair by the scruff of his spotless jacket. “You’ve just made my day.”

Struggling against Mickey’s grip, Alastair cried out to Gladys, his hands wrapped uselessly around the much larger one dragging him out the front door.

Together, you watched Mickey throw Alastair onto the pavement, ruining his nice suit and removing him from your lives forever.

You looked up when you felt John slip his fingers through yours. Drawing in a soothing breath, you squeezed his hand back.

“Well,” Gladys turned to you with a smile. “I think I’ll stick the kettle on. Anyone want a brew?”

//

Master List

[tokillamockingbird427]

hi mush, first of all: LOVE YOUR PAGE!!! my dearest pal “literally logan anon” got me into cod ghosts like… 3 weeks ago ?? and i’ve been aggressively hyperfixated ever since (many thanks to the community on tumblr and, of course, your posts which have been fuelling me through the throes of uni coursework)

second things second: in love with ur autistic logan headcanon ?!?! your post about him dicking about with the AAC board had me in stitches. anyway jumping of from my pal’s anon, i think that logan probably has little sense of self identity. after all he has lived in his brother and father’s footsteps all his life, he has rarely been given the autonomy to do or say what he pleases and he is, in general, acting at the whims of others. i think all of this would lead him to have a very limited sense of self-worth, purpose, identity, etc. - he is merely an extension of hesh, and i think this definitely upsets him a lot. he doesn’t knwo what he wants because he hasn’t been given the opportunity to decide that. all very sadge… what are ur thoughts my g

Good luck with uni shit!!!! Glad I could help you cope lmao

Ah, yes. The fart sfx... he has the humor of a 12 year old. Elias is exasperated but ykw if Logan likes it (Tablet) that's good. Even if it's just *FartFartFart* ad infinitum.

Ooooo Logan with the identity struggle, yesssss. And I agree 100%, I do think Logan would have a limited view of himself outside someone who just follows his brother around. HOWEVER... I also think Hesh has a very limited view of himself outside being The Big Brother where his hobbies are "Watching after Lou" and his skills are "Keeping my brother safe+alive" AND I think the both of them are this way in part due to their upbringing because Elias had been fostering the "Stay together." mentality in them from like day one but then ODIN absolutely exasperated it to the point of (almost) no return. CIRCLES BACK TO THE CODEPENDENCY BTW!!! We make this shit a WEB of mental illness.

That "Opportunity outside being tool/wielder" might come around only because of the pit and tbh I think it's a little poetic in a way that the most terrible thing to happen to either of the bros could be smthn that changes their lives for the better if they manage to roll with it and recover without destroying everything.

Elias ily baby but DAMN your mental illness (Being in the military) is also your kids mental illness now.

[lunarthecorvus]

YOOO A KANEJ FAN

I HAVE FOUND MY PEOPLE

yes soc is awesome im on like a 3rd reread rn

actually i came here because of that asks reblog thingie to ask you something like what's your fav colour or shir

BUT KANEJ!!!

okay you gotta tell me your fav scene. also did you read the books or watched the show

Heyy! First I have to apologise for being so late with this- I can be good at answering asks or just awful at answering them on time-

I have read the books and watched the show. I watched the show first then got hyperfixated on the crows and needed to consume the books so I listened to the audiobooks! I adore the audiobooks and all the voices BUT I have a complaint about the pronunciation of words being different each time I heard them- even the same voice actors would pronounce the same word differently ahsha

Show wise I have quite a few favourite scenes and one of them is the one where all the crows (minus Matthias </3) were in that cafe discussing plans. Another one is the one where Jesper says that Jes means Suli for friendship, I loved the moment where the train expolded, the irony was just funny and I loved Jesper in that scene.

The scene where we had Inej, Zoya and Nina is the same frame was perfectt. Alina telling the Darkling she can deal with it hersekf and handle the people coming after her, also her killing the Darkling was amazing because I despise that creepy man. Inej doing the cool jump and slicing the shadow demon, iconnn. Honestly I almost wrote about that whole scene, I just love it all.

Seeing Kaz, Jesper and Nikolai be in the same room (the scene where Jesper and Kaz are arrested), I also loved.

Ooo and the scene where Inej is surrounded and goes 'the question is will I waste my prayers tonight after gutting you all' that was INEJ FUCKING GHAFA, shes so powerfulll. Then her and Nina interacting (I know not for long but stilll) and Nina speaking Suli, YESS. I wish that scene was longer.

Book wise, I could go on forever and in more detail about but I don't want this to be too long, so if you want to know more about why I love these scenes, feel to send an ask and i might get to it this year hopefully ahhsdh-

Inej being injured in the ship and Nina taking care of her. Just reading Nina care for Inej and them just being best friends and just talking was so nice to read, those girls deserve the worlddd, also their friendship means so much to mee.

Jesper and Wylan when they're breaking the chain because thats when I really realised how much I loved book!wesper and them interacting was so niceee. Also we just got see more of a newer side of Wylan and Jesper, it's one of my favouritee wesper scenee.

Kaz and Inej 'I would come for you' scene, when I tell you I was shocked at this scene, two people guarded like those two. Especially admitting that he would come for her not matter what was happening to either of them, he would come for herrr.

I was going to include just one but the other scene is the scene where Kaz says is my tie straight and Inej laughs, its them being in love and just being soft for a moment AHHHH, then when she goes to her parents and when she goes 'her heart was a river and it carried her to the sea', the fact that she gets to reunte with her parents hunt slavers and work with Kaz to take them down on land sometimes as well, JUST I LOVE HER and am happy for her. Her saying she thinks he's worth saving AAAAA.

Honourary mention is when she said the 'I will have you without armour or I will not have you at all' she set boundries as she should despite the fact that she knew she had feelings for him and wasn't willing to throw her life away and basically said that he needs to be willing to work on himself, Y E S.

Matthias and Nina, the kiss scene where he spins her around, I SQUEALED when I read that. I adore them both and was so happy when they actually finally broke down all the tensity and gave innn.

Nina being on Parem, I know that its sad because of what it did to her BUT she was just so powerful and commanding in that scene I just ahhhhhh love it. Also I love how Nina just manages to flirt her way through stuff and is an incredible spy, NINAAAA, shes so impressive

Wylan, ooo this one, its when Wylan was first disguised as Kuwei and watched his dad be fine with killing him, as well as just being face to face with his abusive piece of shit father. As someone who has/had a Dad like that when I heard that I was so FREAKING PROUD of him, he was face to face and watched his father do that and managed to boast to him about knowing he'd that and fooling him, Y E S. I was so impressed and knew the strength it would take to even face him, I'm still so proud of him to this

Inej, there are so many scenes but one is the 'when the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.' just hit the feels, she's writing her own fate after other people writing it for her and knowing that unlike Dunyasha she didn't have some special protection when she was taken, but she will hold herself up because she has survived and she is INEJ GHAFA. Another scene like this I loved was the incinerator scene because it felt so just AHHH, she finally chose that she was going to survive and finally live, it just hitss. And she released she was going to do it herself and not for work for anybody and help people like her.

There are so many more Inej scenes but this post is already too long that I don't want to make it so much longer, I wanted to include scenes for Kaz, Jesper and Matthias but I saw this post was just so long so for now I'm ending it here, if you want me to write about those scenes just send me another ask about it and I'll include them :)

[st4rrmii]

Ur oc is so interesting JSJJSJS if u can, pls info dump abt Lucien I must know more abt them 🗣️🗣️‼️🙏

I am finally alive enough to respond to this lets fucking GO

I'm gonna make a separate post of his full lore and allat so for now I'll kinda drop random info/lore pieces as well as how he came to be yippee

(Y'all know the drill everything under the cut)

Design/How he came to be:

For his design I took a lot of inspo from dif things:his bangs are inspired by Ken Sato's bangs, as are his thick ass mf brows. I wanted his bodytype to be built but not OVERLY bulky to suit the work he does, as he still has to be agile while also strong, I also looked into men's gymnastics and their bodytypes, as he grew up doing gymnastics and swimming.

His adult design has a lot of cosmetic dino/reptilian inspired traits, as I wanted him to feel almost like he was closer to dinosaurs than humans due to him isolating himself for so long. He has a split tongue and sharper canines than when he was younger, as well as his eyes being an almost yellow amber.

Honestly I am still working on his lore, as there are certain things I want to do but know it would be either too unrealistic, or too "Gary Stu"ish, so sometimes I gotta choose between doing the self indulgent shit or putting it on the back burner lmao

He's actually a revamped OC I already had, honestly when I first watched CT when it came out I wasn't going to insert him into it, but the hyperfixation hit hard so here we are. I am very glad I did though, as I've met multiple cool ass people thru it, not to mention theres just something about people GENUINELY caring and being interested about your OCs that makes the struggles of being an artist/writer so worth it (Love y'all 🫶)

A lot of his writing is inspired by myself and my life, though exaggerated in some spots. His dad is inspired by my dad in some aspects, as are his siblings. He also has a lot of my behaviors, including the negative ones, as I find writing them can help me learn how to cope/deal with them. His disabilities are also based off mine.

Honestly a lot of his writing was just done overtime, there wasn't a huge amount of planning put into it 😭 but that is just generally how I write my OCs, it just feels right

Lore and Character Traits:

He has been growing out his hair since Camp Cretaceous, the only time he's cut it since (aside from trimming dead ends) was to make a wig for his sister

Speaking of his sister, he has/had two siblings, Landon, his older brother, who unfortunately passed away a couple years before CC, and Mia, his little sister, who is luckily still kicking lmao 😭

He lives on the sanctuary he works at, his house is very secluded, as the line of work he does can end up with people... not being very fond of him, so he has to live in such a secluded/hidden area to stay safe

He started designing prothetics and disability aids when he was as young as 12, he now focuses on dino prosthetics, though he has designed a few human ones

Most of his work actually ON the sanctuary is "exotic vet" work (aka hes a dino doctor), as it is quite rare to find vets who aren't afraid of dinos 😭 though he also works on socializing the dinos

His work beyond that is much riskier, as he works to rescue dinos from shady businesses/people, mainly focusing on the dino equivalent of puppy mills, though he has rescued dinos from more dangerous organizations.

He started this work a little while after his father passed, he originally started to work on the sanctuary just doing basic work, mostly as a way to pay for the rehab he had to go through (will get more into that in his full lore post), as well as using it as a way to isolate himself, though very quickly got pulled into doing rescues

He got his growth spurt around this time as well, possibly due to being on Testosterone for a year at that point and having inherited his father's tall ass genes, as well as constantly working out. He was very awkward with it at first, going from being the tiny one of the group to being the tallest was a lot, so he's glad that Ben also had a sudden growth spurt, so he wouldn't be alone in the "Save any growth for the rest of us?" Comments 😭

Sammy calls him Bumpy's step father, as he's about as clingy and protective with her as Ben is. That dino saved his life on so many occasions that he just can't help but feel indebted to her in some way.

Despite Lucien being older than her, Sammy kinda looks at him like a little brother, being very protective of him. It's partially because she got so used to him being itty bitty and being the type to constantly hide behind people when he was scared on Nublar, so she's just not used to him being grown and able to protect himself. Has fully told Ben that if he hurts him she will take him out at the shin, Ben believes her.

He has a dino on the sanctuary that is his favourite, I haven't 100% settled on the breed, but what I know for sure is she is a carnivore that was rescued from one of the dino mills, and therefore has had multiple procedures to make her less dangerous (such as having her front teeth removed, being declawed, etc.) And she also unfortunately lost a leg while in said mill, though Lucien made her a prosthetic for it. She also has dwarfism due to being in a cage for such an important time in her life growth wise. She is Lucien's baby and he would go to war for her.

Lucien's music taste is,,, all over the place, ranging from kpop, to indie rock, to metal, honestly as long as its not country he'll probably enjoy it

His tattoos have to deal with his work, specifically the doll/robo joints, as part of him feels kind of like he was taken in a vulnerable state in his life to do things that no 16/17 yro should have to do and yet he can never bring himself to step away from the work now as he's too deep into it

That isnt to say he doesnt feel good about rescuing dinos, but unfortunately with that kind of work comes hurting people, and while they are bad people, it still fucks you up

Not super great at communication (which I am actually writing a fic about 😈) which can cause issues but he does try his best, esp for Ben

Collects plushies

Dr.Pepper enjoyer (its his entire personality I fear)

I cannot think of anything else atm that won't end up in the lore drop, but I might find one of those OC ask thingies so y'all can send in more specific asks, since I suck ass at thinking of things off the top of my head 😭 but again thank y'all for all the love for Lucien, he's my baby so to see other people loving him makes me so happy

[scummy-writes]

I do like talking to everyone on here a lot. I, admittedly, do not follow people often and I do not venture into the tags often, because I want to curate my experience and not really run into takes or some things that i am not really a fan of seeing. This ends up making it to where I don't reblog much past whatever gets on my dash or is shared in my server, and me not knowing many many people. (in fact, I am forever haunted by not knowing people who were huge fans of characters and me not clocking it and talking otherwise to them.)

and further. hm. My viewpoint on blogs are that they are for whatever we want them to be. This is a sideblog for my writing, but it's also where I talk about my related interests about whatever game I am writing fanfiction for. Which means I just... post my thoughts a lot. it's almost like an archive of my thoughts and opinions on the games and similar, as well as attempts to talk to other people and to reblog things I have read or appreciated when I had the spoons. I've been doing this since day one of this blog, which is nearly eight years old by now.

I can't know how everyone views this blog. My assumption is that the reasons a majority of you are here is due to liking my fanfics, what I reblog, the thoughts I share, we're friends of some sort, or a combo of the four. Since I write, I'll share writing advice from others and share experiences of my personal issues with writing, and with other subjects as well if asked.

Iiii. don't enjoy the weird pedestal-ism. I don't enjoy people not treating me as an equal in the ways of putting me above them/others in either a 'positive' way, or some weird...seething....way. I've been saying to myself and a bit on here for a while that there is no way this is happening, but some ways I've been spoken to in the past few months, through various anons and some discussions I've had on here, makes me realize otherwise. I'm not super happy about it. It makes me a bit confused on how things work at times. In 99% of cases, barring some weird anons or arguments, I try to treat people as I would want to be treated. I want equal grounds.

It's fine to enjoy my thoughts or what I write about- and I appreciate it greatly! I enjoy the comments and absolutely love the kind discussion that it can spark, and even the silly discussions!! (I am a silly person in general!!!!) that's not what I am discussing.

I'm moreso saying.... like hey. I am just a chick out here, writing sloppy fanfiction in my spare time, having a blog dedicated to that and talking about my hyperfixation in some way or form. I am not a 'queen bee' (i am forever perplexed by that anon), I am not part of some imaginary 'mean girls' clique in this fandom, I do not have any 'fandom duties' tied to this blog. I'm not important in any way. I'm just chatting to people I've slowly felt less anxious around, wordvomiting, and writing up the daydreams I've had over this game. That's it. Nothing more, and probably less than how some people have built me up.

I can't really stop people from perceiving me in specific ways or another, but. I can request for you guys to just treat me like a normal person. I'm not worth putting on a pedestal or anything similar, and I sure as shit am not worth some of the odd vitriol I have received over.......... pixels.

[anonzentimes]

LONG ASS ASK INKOMING ZEN so its super cold in brazil today so typing is a little hard and there might be weird typos fkshdkjd but

when i was like 14 i had online friends that were also 14 and were into danganronpa but all they talked abt was the flaws of the series and how much they hated the more problematic aspects of it, it was a constant wave of gender discourse and sexuality discourse and nagito is a bad portrayal of mental illnesses and miu iruma is too sexual and this character is bad cause of xyz and that character is bad because of this and that and honestly whatever the fuck else you can argue about this series about, whenever i mentioned that danganronpa seemed fun and id like to get into it my friends would tell me that its not worth it, that the series is fucking horrid that i should run the other way and be glad i never entered the hellhole that is being a danganronpa fan

so thanks to this and like constant fucking weird shit coming out of the hell hole that is the fucking dr fandom on Twitter for like, four whole years I straight up didn't touch the series. a series that I was so fully aware that I would love btw, because i was always into gorey art and i found the art of dr so pretty and the characters had such intresting designs and the pink blood was so cool and i love the killing game genre and the mystery solving aspect, of danganronpa seemed so cool, i did not go near this series with a fucking 10-ft Pole

until literally maybe some months ago at 18 years old a streamer I like said on stream something like "oh yeah danganronpa is fucking awesome im so glad i played it" and I was like fuck it, this guy has high standards, if he likes it it cant be that bad. and so I downloaded trigger happy havoc and i was so pleasantly surprised by it, sure case 2 is a case that exists but like other than that i immediately fell in love with this franchise, i loved almost everything about the game, then i started sdr2 and nagito took over every single part of my brain within 0.2 seconds of gameplay AND DR2 IS SO PEAK JUST IN GENERAL udg was super fucking fun i love touko and komarus relationship and the warriors of hope so much, dr3 was awsome even if i didnt really care for future arc despair hope and 2.5 were awasome the end of drv3 hit me like a truck and it genuenly took me a couple hours to understand that my beloved class 77b wasnt just retconned out of existence and currently im trying to kill executive dysfunction and procrastination and read dr0 and again want to replay dr2 cause my hyperfixated ass would rather play the game when she should be alseep to know what happens next than play it when she isn't too tired to understand whats happening lmao

and after i was done with the series i sat down and thought about how i let 14 year olds on the internet who im not even friends with anymore keep me away from something that now i hold so dear and close to my heart, and i wonder how many people who would love danganronpa will never give the series a chance because not only does the wider interner find it cringe but the fandom constantly tell potential new fans to stay away and act like its the worst midea ever written, the way some people are unable to enjoy what they love without guilt is so sad because not only does it affect them but also others

and this is super personal but i wonder how danganronpa would have impacted me if i got into it back when i found out about it at 14, how much different having danganronpa to hang on to would have made my life when i was burning out at school because i was trying to survive neurodivergency hell with undiagnosed autism and possible adhd

dangabronpa is awsome i love it so so much

YOU JUST MADE ME FEEL SO UNBELIEVABLY YOUNG OH MY GOD. I HEARD ABOUT DANGANRONPA WHEN I WAS 11 I'M PRETTY SURE AHHHH HAHA!!! Overall I think this raises a good lesson that we should trust our guts and from our own opinions on media. Look into things you're curious about, learn if it's worth it yourself, and come to your own conclusions! I feel bad for those who never get to understand Nagito Komaeda, let alone know he exists. This franchise has some negatives but the positives outweigh the issues entirely to me and I wish people gave it more of a chance. dangabronpa is awsome INDEED lmfao.

[fayes-fics]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I was tagged by @suspendingtime. Thanks my dear. 🫶🫶 Apologies I'm a little tipsy right now haha. 🤪

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

155. Ahem, hush you. I started writing 18 months ago. When I get a new hobby, I REALLY lean into it.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

481,485. Yup, almost half a million. Again, shhhh.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Bridgerton. Look, I have my hyperfixations, ok?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

On AO3:

In His Lap (Short Fic) 181 

Temptation 177 

The Lesson 155 

Insatiable 149 

Are We Friends? 148

Tumblr notes:

Second Son 3,436

Sonnet #29 2,199

Rescue & Ruin 1,841

Awakening 1,827

Temptation 1,788

Wattpad readers:

Innocence, 30,600

Benedict Bridgerton Regency One Shots 23,000

Kinktober 2022 collection 16,300

Anthony Bridgerton Regency One Shots 10,400

Moments 5,800

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Always. It's just wonderful to get feedback. I read and respond to every single comment. They mean the world to me, truly.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably No Good Advice. I ended up writing Moments multi-chapter as I (and a friend) couldn't bear the idea they didn't end up together lolol.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them, tbh. I can't write an unhappy ending. Maybe the mushiest is Second Son, Moments, or It Had To Be You.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Luckily not much yet. I did get one hate anon early on. It wasn't about a specific fic, though. It said they didn't know why I had a 'please don't steal my work' disclaimer (the standard one that most writers here use) cos I was delusional that my work was worth stealing. 🤷‍♀️

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, it's my trademark. It's rare when I don't write smut. 😬 I'm not sure what is meant by kind of smut. I've written it all, from vanilla romantic sex to kink threesomes with harnesses and double penetration lol. I haven't had a request yet that I've turned down due to sexual content.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not yet. The closest I've gotten is It Had To Be You, which is based on When Harry Met Sally.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, sadly, it has happened quite a few times now. I was so fed up with filing copyright takedown notices that I set up a Wattpad account to try to counter it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I've been offered but have turned it down. I have no way to check that any translation would get across the nuance I aim for. So I know that may be anglo-centric, but its how I feel for now.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, but I am always threatening to lolol.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Hmm, tough one. I do love Kanthony tbh.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Benedict as a virgin. I just urghhh.... it's been a WIP for 17 months now. I just dunno why I won't finish it; I just get the feeling I won't.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no bloody idea. I'd prefer readers answer that tbh lol. My inclination is to say I don't have one, except perhaps a willingness to describe sex in ridiculous levels of detail? Is that a strength?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

World building. I will do anything to shortcut it. I'll find an economical way to describe a situation e.g. she's a widow; they're old friends. Got it? Good! Let's get down to business.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done a smidgeon of French as I studied it for ten years. But I doubt I'd do another language tbh.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Only Bridgerton so far.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Bloody hell, I have no fucking idea. It literally changes depending on my mood. But I don't really care for my own writing that much, all I see is flaws lol. I guess the universe I would most like to write more for one day is Mrs Bridgerton and its sequel. Does that count?

No Pressure Tagging: A couple of my talented writing moots were tagged along with me on this (the lovelies @colettebronte and @eleanor-bradstreet). So lets go: @thebabblingbrookenook @fiction-is-life @ferns-fics @silverhallow @mothdruid @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @urchintoast 😁🧡🧡

[ineffabeatlemindpalace]

How Our Flag Means Death impacted my life

It’s been said so many times but the impact this to show has had on me is beyond comprehension. I am still living in the aftermath. Every day, I cannot grasp my luck of finding it and loving it. Hyperfixation or not, it’s been a while so I conclude it is safe to be put as a special interest by now; to care so much about something that makes you feel good and understood, is utterly important to have, I have realised.

My experiences in other, different, fandoms on Twitter as a teenager, have been very different and I guess it has something to do with growing up and learning more about yourself as much as it has to do without approach and handling of it all – we are all here for this show and we are damn grateful for its existence. We do not take it for granted and so we lovingly create more art and thereby put more love into the world. Isn’t this what life is all about? Adding care and love.

Coming back to my point, ever since starting to watch Our Flag Means Death, I have had this inner sense of calm inside of me, which I never had before.

It is hard to explain but I did notice that my sensory issues, especially misophonia, have been less of a problem. And that is huge. There is one noise source in particular, which is the fridge, if you want to know, but it can be triggered by anything, and I have been struggling with this for many years… There only has to be some trigger, such as the wind howling too strongly or any other sound, really, and I feel like the world is going to collapse because every thing gets too loud and too much.

Now, for a few months, it hasn’t been like that. It was almost scary at first due to the unfamiliarity of the absence of, well, mental pain…

Regarding the show’s successful portrayal of queerness – yes, that has been life–changing for me as well.

I have identified as nonbinary as long as I can think. I vividly remember this specific moment from my childhood when I was sitting there, on my own, thinking, I do not feel like a girl, I do not feel like any gender, I just feel like myself. It’s a strange memory to have but it was so vivid that I treasure how it stuck with me.

When I was a teenager, I never had any romantic, God forbid sexual, interest, except for the occasional crush on a boy or girl, which naturally made me conclude that I was bi or pan. As of today, I am still not feeling any of these attractions. However, as I explain in this post, some kind of attractions have been felt. One thing is clear, if I do feel anything beyond, it would be for any gender.

The show basically says, whatever, we’re all queer, and that is so beautiful and validating to me because my family and other surroundings are so heteronormative that I often question my validity and worth.

There have barely ever been other queer people in my immediate surroundings, which means that acceptance or even understanding is not something that I would expect.

In hindsight, this is a big part of why I always struggled with confidence and self-love.

There is a lot I could write about my family history but I will just shorten it to, I did grow up without a father from the age of 7 and my relationship with him is rather torn.

I am so moved by how they decided to give Ed and Stede these backstories regarding their relationship with their fathers and families and portray these issues in such a delicate and serious manner and how they can impact your whole life.

I am thankful for how serious they have taken all of these things.

These are characters that have experienced similar difficult upbringings and are struggling with the consequences into their adulthood.

I have never gotten an official diagnosis but from my childhood experiences and later struggles in life it is safe to say that I am neurodivergent. The relationship with my mother is very difficult as well, which definitely played a part in how I never understood that some of my behaviour and so on was a result of being different in that way instead of deliberate. During my childhood and teenage years, there have been instances of different kinds of abuse, however I will not elaborate further.

These struggles are always individual and personal but I will just say that I do suffer from the fear of being abandoned and yes, it makes maintaining relationships, such as friendships, challenging.

Because you constantly feel like you do not deserve anyone caring about you or enjoying your company. Genuinely, I have never believed this.

Even if I have learned to like myself more and be confident in my abilities. I still feel like a burden whenever I am with someone else. It doesn’t go away. Part of it is due to struggling with social cues as well as the general preference of being alone.

And I do enjoy my own company. But it would be nice to one day find someone I can fully trust and freely share my thoughts with.

Basically, what Ed and Stede have found in each other… and I guess what makes them so different to other ships is not only that they are actually a canon couple but the way they are so natural and gentle with each other?!

They accept each other wholeheartedly.

They see each other in such a genuine way… unconditionally. Not without hardships but always with such a willingness to make it better, to keep fighting, continue to live for the sake of love and love only.

Another serious struggle has been my eating disorder (anorexia) which (along with overexercising) lead me to have secondary amenorrhea for many years, which in turn, was a very blissful thing for me due to gender reasons. A big thing that has happened shortly after discovering the show has been my period coming back. My reaction was denial, then anger, then determination that I would not let this bring me down…

The show did ground me in that emotionally, I have handled it, somehow, and carried on.

I am so thankful for it all and much, much more.

There is so much to say and never enough words to express my gratitude. This show means something different to everyone. Everyone finds bits and pieces in it which make them feel the same kind of appreciation and love and this is just my share.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you, dear reader. Sending you a warm hug, if that’s alright with you.

[skyfallscotland]

Hiii me again! I, too, have questions for the ask game 🍓🦋🥤

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

I feel like it's redundant to keep saying the same ones, but *whispers* storm in the quiet @justallihere and Political Gain @sarahwyland

But also, in terms of underrated, I just read a little series by Ramzes called The Unseen One, furthering the Sloane/Bodhi agenda (🙏🏼 the lord’s work) and I've also enjoyed The Princess Gambit by JuliLyng so far as well, which is Xaden/OC. Not sure if they have tumblr, but if they're here, hi! 👋🏼

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

So I've always been a reader/writer, since as far back as I can remember (maybe three years old?), I'm pretty sure with the knowledge I have now that I'm hyperlexic.

I'm old enough to have been around for dial-up internet, but when I was a preteen, we got broadband (showing my age). This is to say, don't judge my parents too harshly because internet safety was not a thing back then, but...

I found fanfiction because back then, a lot of people either used livejournal or hosted their own sites, so a lot of fansites, had fanfiction. So while looking at Buffy fansites, I stumbled across Buffy fanfiction and realised I could actually read stories!!! so many stories!! where Buffy and Spike got together earlier or things didn't end tragically for them. So yeah, at 11 I was reading very explicit Spuffy smut on the internet 🫢 I had a system set up where I would play The Sims all day or do school project powerpoints, except I was really reading fanfic and I would flick between screens whenever my parents entered the room.

My mum now has KU and reads dark romance every day, so I guess she comes by it honestly (and yes, I did mean it that way around, I was here first!) 😂

Anyway, when I was 12 I started publishing my first few fanfics on ffnet - Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, and a Harry Potter/X-Men Crossover. Each originally written on paper, they were all ridiculously bad, but the latter had people interested enough despite the writing, which encouraged me to try again later down the line with The Vampire Diaries and Jurassic World. I hadn't written for almost ten years and had never finished anything much until last year, by chance, I decided to finally get back into reading actual books and picked up ACOTAR. I finished the series within a week and I was left like?? That's it????

The archive had such a small number of works, I couldn't believe it, so I decided to write my own. I wrote Fury and Siren over the course of three months. I wasn't game to post anything in case I didn't finish it, because I'd never finished anything before. I also put off starting this little book I'd bought 'Fourth Wing' by three months, because I knew I'd be sucked in and would lose the hyperfixation I had, so I forced myself to finish Siren first. And now you all know my life story lol omg I'm so embarrassing to myself 🫠

TLDR: internet

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

Honestly, this is kind of angsty, but this last week I’ve thought a lot about male-dominated fandom spaces and how we’re not welcome in them. We, meaning everyone who isn’t a straight, cis, white male. The Formula 1 community on here seems a little better, probably because it’s female-led, but everywhere else I can’t even look at the comments.

To be honest, I’m tired of being told I don’t belong, or that my opinion means nothing because I’m female. I grew up in a motorsport family, my earliest memories are at racetracks, but men on the internet would have you believe I’m only interested because of what the drivers look like. It’s just…tiring. Those fandom spaces have become a no-go zone for me now, because it just isn’t worth it. We live in a time where no matter what you say someone will attack you which is sad in itself, but it’s so much worse when you’re a woman commenting on a “man’s sport”, not to mention endlessly frustrating because they’re too stupid to tell the difference between equity and equality.

🦋 On a larger note, Palestine. I don’t think more than that needs saying. It hurts my heart.

[e-adlirez]

Treasure Seekers 3 Review/Ramble

Welcome to the third and last entry of the Treasure Seekers trilogy :D

"Wait what?" I probably hear you ask. "What about the other four treasures they said the girls would find?"

And to that I say

yeah it do be a bit sad that they never made a book 4

But make no mistake, Legend of the Maze is a doozy of a third book, and I'd say it's almost on-par with book 1 if not surpassing it. Unfortunately there is no free digital copy of the book, so uh if you're down to spend a bit on a digital copy on the E-book site of your choosing or on a physical copy in a bookstore, I salute you for your determination.

As for the rest of you, you're just gonna have to trust me bro :] /j

Ready? Let's go :D (also this is being written by a sleep-deprived E running on hyperfixation juice so if you find any grammar issues feel free to let me know so I can fix them)

The story begins with the Thea Sisters touring the Capelletti House in Verona with their Italian friend/tour guide Sebastiano. Yes, this Verona.

So yeah Colette is fantasizing about Romeo and Juliet as a romantic ship, Vi is trying to kill her Santa by telling her that Romeo and Juliet are fictional characters (which Colette responds to with "oh hush I can dream"), and oop-- loose floorboard-- what's this package under the flo-- LE GAAASSSPPPP LANE LOOORRREEEEE

The girls fangirl about the ABL jumpscare a lil' too loudly and Sebastiano is a lil' confusion, soooooooo the squad goes out for some snacks outside the Capelletti house to explain stuff to Sebastiano

buckle up Sebastiano you're about to get two 300-page books worth of Lane Lore™

While listening to the story, it turns out that Sebastiano may or may not have heard a peep about a legend about a treasure called the Treasure of Eternal Love (adapted Scholastic name is "Treasure of True Love" which ew, snatches the original Italian name instead), which was said to have been owned by Juliet and tho a lotta people are trying to find it, they dunno where it is now. Sounds very Seven Treasures of the World to me :]

How does Sebastiano know a peep about this very obscure legend? Turns out he learned about it from a letter written by his great-grandpappy Jacopo, who was an archaeologist like Aurora :3

So Sebastiano invites the girls to dinner at his place so the girls can look for the letter. Vi don't get too comfy with the house library I know it looks very cool and antique but we got a goal and that is sifting through a lil' box of Jacopo's kept things and find some-- HOLY CRAP LANE LORE™

-

"Hi Jacopo, tysm for helping me with my research on the Treasure of Eternal Love, you're a real g my guy, regards from me and my sister Linda, also tysm for the tour of Verona."

-- ABL

-

The girls tell Sebastiano their findings over a dinner of bigoli al pomodoro, give some extra Lane Lore™ about Jan von Klawitz and Aurora's six sisters, and mention the possibility that Linda knows where the treasure is, which means that Luke is probably after it too, but also Linda might know where the treasure is, which means a lead >:3

First stop: Verona's city hall, where Sebastiano's friend Guido works and is able to help them with finding information about a Linda Lane who may or may not have lived in Verona approximately a century ago. They find a document that says yes, Linda did in fact live in Verona once, and also her address is listed there because legalities, y'know how it is.

So the girls head on over to the address, knock at the door, and are greeted by an old lady, and :0 turns out this old lady (her name is Mia) knew Linda personally.

-

Linda and Mia met when Linda was in her older years and Mia was a smol child. Mia would read for Linda since her eyesight deteriorated in her old age, and they hung out a lot together. When Linda left to return to England, she left the house to Mia, as well as a good chunk of the stuff she had in said house as mementos for Mia to remember her by.

-

Hey guys you wanna see a trick, it's called "the Lane Lore™ %", aka how fast can we get this old lady up to speed with the ABL drama-- /j

Unfortunately Mia doesn't really know anything about the treasures, but she does have this wack painting of a scenery in Japan that just won't align correctly no matter how much finagling you do to it-- oh there was an envelope inside-- LANE LORE™?

So the letter inside the envelope is a letter from Aurora to Linda basically Aurora telling Linda she found the Treasure of Eternal Love, but because Jan is on her tail, she left the treasure in the "House of the Sun" for now. Now, if you tried looking up "house of the sun", you'd get a hotel in Florida, a manga, a former Incan temple that's now a monastery-- you get the picture, it do be a weird detail and probably not it bro, besides Aurora's too much of a gremlin to be that obvious with her riddles.

At least if you're not a Shakespeare nerd like Colette is (the kind that never read past Romeo and Juliet's wedding), because if you were, you'd know that at one point Romeo equates Juliet to the sun rising in the east. Romeo is simping for Juliet, Juliet is the sun, ergo, the Capelletti house.

But uh, thing is we already went to the house and we already know that Aurora came back for the treasure and took it somewhere else. Sooooo might as well see what the last letter says--

"Hi so I'm on the run rn I can't chat for long because Jan is pissed and he wants to find me and force me to reveal the treasure, and I don't think I wanna know how not-kid-friendly this is gonna get if he does find me. Thanks for introducing me to your friend tho :D she's cool and thanks to her help, the treasure is safe and sound in the shade of the cherry trees! I'll come back for it one day, hopefully that day comes soon. Anyway, hugs and kisses, Linda." - ABL

Spoiler alert, despite having a beeg cherry tree on the painting, there was in fact nothing else hiding behind the painting.

LUKE TRANSITION

So Luke is doing Luke things, not touching grass as per usual. Cassidy comes by to give him a lil' souvenir from great-grandpappy Jan von Klawitz's house in London: Jan's old notes. Luke immediately dismisses Cassidy without even so much as a thank you -- Cassidy girlypop you're not scoring that man no matter what you do, he's the Adrien to your Marinette girlie we're only at book 3, you might as well accept your fate -- and Luke takes a lil' peek into Jan's notebook (he also calls his great-grandpappy "Jan", like just "Jan". I dunno maybe I'm just finding it weird because I'm Asian . .) for the goods.

And goods Luke does find, which he proceeds to consume like a goblin. Bit of Klawitz lore here:

-

"Grrr grrr stupid Aurora and her smartass tricks grrrrr who does she think she is grrrrr she beat me to the Treasure of Eternal Love in Verona grrrrrrrrrrrr well at least now I know how she works, I managed to find this friend of hers Jacopo, who definitely knows about the treasure even though he keeps playing stupid like I don't know that he knows Aurora. Something something cherry trees, I ransacked every single cherry tree in Verona and there was literally nothing, wth, Aurora why are you like this" - Jan von Klawitz

-

Luke responds to this seedy lore from his great-grandpappy with "hehehHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHH JAN YOU IDIOT, YOU COULDN'T SEE WHAT WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU BECAUSE YOU UNDERESTIMATED THE LITTLE PILOT GIRL, I ALREADY KNOW WHERE TO LOOK"

Cut back to the girls, and they know where to look next, too

It's Japan, i-it's Japan, y'know Japan's relationship with their sakura/cherry blossoms

Turns out Linda has a friend named Kyoko Bianchi, a Japanese-Italian botanist who was raised in Japan. Since Aurora mentions in her letter that Linda's friend came in clutch, she was obviously referring to Kyoko and now the treasure is in Japan.

So Japan transition :D (based on my personal experience in Japan and also a bit of canon continuity consistency, I headcanon that despite being written in English, this segment of the story mostly had the girls speaking in Japanese, a language they would know how to speak a bit of at least (and apparently Vi is conversational in Japanese so c'mooonnnn).)

The girls land at Narita Airport and take a train to central Tokyo (damn Kumi from Cherry Blossom Adventure you came in clutch possibly teaching the girls how to Japanese subway offscreen because they actually didn't get lost using it on their own :D). Kyoko's hometown was Tokyo, so might as well start searching for her descendants/relatives there. First stop: Shibuya.

Colette is playfully ribbed a bit for having a big-ass bag while everyone else only brought smol backpacks around with them, the luck of the girls not getting lost using the Japanese subway must be balanced out so Paulina's GPS decides now is the right time to be a dick, Shibuya Crossing, and finally they make it to the hotel where Amrita Bianchi, their first Kyoko descendant candidate, is at.

And this is the first time the girls come across the concept of cosplaying, I genuinely don't know how they managed to sidestep it for so long especially since they've been to Japan before for a student exchange, all I can really justify it with is that university has been kicking their a-- RATSUNE MIKU??

Gahd even in 2018 Italy there was no escape from her /j

Anyway so Amrita didn't know Kyoko, so their second candidate is Shinobu Bianchi, a guy living in Shinjuku. They find him-- or more accurately run into him (literally) on his way to work, try to explain things to him but this man is running late, so he invites the girls to follow him to his workplace. They find themselves in a cafe on opening time, customers start filing in before the girls can even tell Shinobu what the whole deal is, soooooo karaoke break :D

Vi c'mon it's not like there's much else to do while waiting for Shinobu-- what're you gonna do, sit there and wait? A-actually y'know what that sounds like something Vi would happily do but c'mooonnn Vi where's your sense-a humor :D

Thirty minutes of singing later, they finally get five minutes to explain to Shinobu what they're looking for and Shinobu says "sorry I dunno Kyoko, I am half-Italian on my dad's side, but my mom has a different Japanese surname"

So the girls Peter William a bit emotionally, Pam goes to what Scholastic is telling me is a kiosk but might as well be a 7/11 based on the banger food Pam got from said kiosk, the girls take a taxi to a Capsule Hotel (judging from the illustration it looks like the Shinjuku Kuyakusho-mae Capsule Hotel), and after a bit of dinner, Peter William into their capsule rooms physically.

The next morning, Nicky goes out for a morning jog as usual (she prolly slept with her capsule open so she wouldn't get claustrophobic), and she finds a gardener tending to a Kyoko Bianchi flower :0 like no joke that's the name, it's a K. bianchi, named after a botanist who founded the Fairy Garden (Disclaimer: neither the K. bianchi nor the Fairy Garden Foundation in Japan exist, they're fictional bits for this fictional story and that's fine :3). Nicky gets the address for the Fairy Garden, runs back to the girls who are having breakfast, and they head on over to the venue.

At the Fairy Garden, the girls meet a gardener named Toshio who happily shows them around, and despite not knowing all the Lane Lore™ (yet), he knows enough to lead them to Kyoko's perfectly preserved office, where the late Bianchi has displayed some pictures from Verona, as well as her furniture and encyclopedia collection.

After a search, they find what was presumably a haiku alluding to Jomon Sugi and the writer's voice being hidden in there, and one jaunt to the record of Jomon Sugi in Kyoko's encyclopedia collection and uhp-- a hidden cassette tape inside the volume!

On one hand, victory, the girls have found a VHS tape that is implied to have a personal recording from Kyoko Bianchi herself, so they're super-close to the treasure now :D

But on the other hand, they found a VHS tape in the year of our lord 2018.

Good news, Toshio knows a buddy who's super tech-savvy, and that's including tech things. Bad news, he's in Kyoto, which is about 445 km/283 miles away from Tokyo.

So the girls quickly take a shinkansen and some bento boxes to Kyoto :D (their wallets are probably sobbing in an 86-USD ticket per person)

At Kyoto, meet Ren, are lowkey surprised that his house is a traditional Japanese house as opposed to a modern flat but hey it's a pleasant surprise, and Ren is able to play the tape for them.

In the tape, Kyoko explains the Treasure of Eternal Love, how it ended up in her hands at the ripe age of 20 through Linda and Aurora, and some Treasure of Eternal Love lore, or rather Ring of Eternal Love lore:

-

Yeah sure Romeo and Juliet were fictional characters, but reality, so it goes, isn't that much different. The Ring of Eternal Love was a courting gift from a suitor to a bachelorette of the Cappelletti household. The suitor and the girl's families had hate boners for each other for a while now, but instead of spiraling into a destructive mess of family feuding and death like in Shakespeare's play, they decided to call off the feud so the two lovers could be happy together. And now the ring, as Kyoko puts it, has been passed down from her to "one who shows love every day, in every way, towards everything that grows from the earth."

-

The girls are happy they got to see the tape and its contents, but they Peter William emotionally once more because well, they're back to square one now-- literally the only clue they have is the thing Kyoko said, and what is the thing Kyoko said? It's cryptic and weird and h a h ? Ren offers to accommodate them for the night, the girls get to sleep on futons for the first time since Secret of the Snow, and the next day they decide to have some downtime vacay-ing in Nijo Castle. A vacay that results in Vi having an epiphany about the riddle and thus who has the ring.

Meanwhile with Luke, he's planning something. Something that's got Cassidy in Japan and putting her master's degrees in Engineering, Chemistry and Computer Sciences to use by assembling a drone (I'm wondering how Cassidy has so little braincells out on the field despite having THREE MASTER'S DEGREES like holy crap--)

Cassidy tries complimenting Luke on the motherboard he sent in from Alaska and-- ew Omar why are you here I thought Luke fired you-- ooh what's that package thing-- oi don't diss on Japanese people being polite, once you see the ruder options you're gonna be pining for that shnit-- wait what how's this drone gonna find the Ring of Eternal Love--

Anyway the girls plus Toshio and Ren take the train back to Tokyo (istg if they took the shinkansen--) and back to the Fairy Garden Foundation, where they talk to the current head gardener: Mr. Murakami.

Mr. Murakami does in fact know Kyoko personally, and after a bit of persuading (it involves a bord like many good things in this world), he decides to bring them to his hometown Nara (which involves a train to Kyoto and then a train from Kyoto to Nara which on the Kodama plus the cheapest option from Kyoto to Nara is-- CHEESUS CRUST 91 USD PER PERSON AND THEY HAVE TO GO BACK TO TOKYO AFTER THIS???)

ANYWAY Mr. Murakami takes them to Nara Park, where he hid the treasure. He brings the girls to it, he checks the hiding place and

It's empty?

Wait, the hiding place is empty?

WAIT WHAT THE HIDING PLACE IS EM--

Off in Alaska, Luke is cackling in his fancy custom-made not-gamer chair.

Mr. Murakami is distraught, most of the girls stay to comfort him while Nicky and Ren scout out the area. In their search, Nicky and Ren find a big broken drone that seems to have crash-landed in the garden, and oop-- LVK logo. It was probably used to spy on Mr. Murakami to snatch the treasure. "DAAAMMMNNNN YOOOUUUU LUUUKKEEEE" Nicky probably would've shrieked at the top of her lungs if she weren't A. in Japan (it's very quiet generally), and B. within earshot of poor Mr. Murakami, who's still recovering from the horrible shock. The girls, Toshio and Ren take the drone to Kyoto while Mr. Murakami stays in Nara with the fam to recover because man, he deserves the break :(

In Ren's house in Kyoto, Paulina and Ren get to work hacking into the drone to snatch its data, and they find that the drone's memory goes as far back as to being in Alaska for some reason. Why would an LVK drone be in Alaska? Unless-- :OOOOO SECRET BASE??

With that lead, the girls depart for Anchorage, Alaska (if I plugged it into Google correctly the price for the flight totals out at a 567-USD one-way flight holy crap girlies have mercy on your wallets-- not including the mini shopping spree for winter clothes Colette was more than happy to drag the girls on). Ren gives Paulina a little flash drive with some written code that could come in clutch in whatever shenanigans they end up in in that secret base of Luke's. Yes Violet as much as I think you're the only person in the group who seems to be concerned for your wallet, ya'll are nawt surviving Alaska with those summer clothes ya'll are wearing.

Behold, a long rest/14-hour timeskip in the form of the last two letters the girls have yet to read from Aurora to Linda. (Well the girls besides Vi, God's sleepiest soldier over here is eeping in the back before the flight's even taken off--)

-

(These are the real letters this time around lmao, if you're confused, Aurora addresses Linda in these letters via her middle name Amaryllis.)

Dear Amaryllis,

I'm very sorry that, because of my job, you are taking on a responsibility that is perhaps too great, and that puts you at risk.

It's all because of the greed of my former professor, a mouse who is incapable of recognizing that beauty should be shared. My dear sister, I have thought about it for a long time, and I have come to the conclusion that the best solution is to take the Treasure of Eternal Love from Verona, where it is not safe... and put you at risk. I am sending you a copy of one of the photos I hold the most dear, in memory of the love that binds us. I hope it will help you make the best decision...

Yours, Aurora

-

Dear Amaryllis,

You wrote me that you are making a decision about the treasure. I agree that the mouse you're planning to entrust it to is worthy of that trust, and I will wait for more news. But you must be careful, even when you write to me, to not mention names or places. We need to watch out, because my former professor is more alert than ever.

It seems that he's building an underground shelter for his riches, designed as a kind of maze to test anyone who manages to enter it...

Professor Jan is clever, and he's always loved riddles, puzzles, and mysteries. I wouldn't wish for any mouse to find themselves in his maze!

Now I must say good-bye, my dear. Sending a big hug.

Yours, Aurora

-

Once the girls land in Anchorage, Alaska, they rent an SUV, pull out Google Maps, read some of the brochures Ren printed out for them just in case, fangirl over a moose (Nicky that's not something to fangirl about have you seen what they're capable of--), and accidental secret tunnel discovery?

Well, accidental secret garbage chute discovery, anyway, since the one thing that allows the girls to not break their ankles when landing is some garbage bags. Food waste garbage bags no less :D Ew :D

Some old aircraft bits are found too which is nice but it's never elaborated on whose old aircraft bits those were so we're moving on to the girls entering Luke's secret headquarters and Nicky trying not to die from claustrophobia :D

CCTVs pose an initial problem, but Ren's flash drive comes in clutch and allows Paulina to freeze the cameras so they can go in undetected (Ren how do you know how to program that is there something you wanna share to the class--). One lengthy labyrinth later, the girls manage to get out of the "we're walking in circles" loop-dee-loop they wound up in and find this little room with a little lit fire pit and an ominous riddle involving the "elements of nature". Pam has the idea of extinguishing the fire pit, and sure enough, inside the fire pit is a key that fits perfectly into the door across the room.

And right after Pam turns the lock on the door, a trapdoor opens up beneath her and she falls into the pit below. It's padded, it's kinda cozy, but it's way too deep for the girls to reach Pam from above without a rope or attempting to risk falling in and getting trapped as well. The girls are very reluctant to leave Pam, but Pam unfortunately only metaphorically slaps some sense into the girls and tells them to go on because they've gone too far to back out now so COMMIT TO THE BIT GODDAMMIT

(you guys like the rhyme-y bits? They're kinda fun to write I do like the rhyme-y bits a bit <:])

And thus the girls minus Pam go through the door to the next room, where there's this swimming pool with a key inside it, which Nicky swims down for, assuming that the trap in the room will only activate once they get the key into the door leading to the next room. Obviously she winds up being very incorrect, as the moment she takes the key from the bottom of the pool, the water starts to drain away until all you got left is a sopping wet Nicky in an empty pool and the key to the next room, which Nicky tosses over to Paulina while asking for her shoes and her dry clothes that they packed. Colette is devastated, devastated I tell you at the idea of leaving Nicky behind, on top of having to leave Pam behind, but Nicky's got faith that the girls will pull through and come back for her; so Colette, Paulina and Violet move on to the next room.

A LOT of walking down a twisting hallway later, the trio make it to the next room (which they use Nicky's key for), and we got four pots with something or other in them, lighting too dim to discern properly what's in the pots, a button sequence puzzle with no margin for error, and a wack riddle. Oh and Paulina's tablet's finally died after possibly uh, 18-ish hours of not charging it. RIP Paulina's tablet, that's gonna be set aside in the corner for the time being.

The pots turn out to have different types of sediment in them, and the wack riddle turns out to be the clue to the correct sequence to input, so the three figure that out fairly quickly and slide down the chute leading to the next room. Except for Paulina, who had to get her tablet from that corner she set it aside in, and wasn't able to make it to the trapdoor-chute in time before it closed on her face, leaving her trapped "forever", as the wack riddle states. The one time you're told to stop holding it, man, unbelievable. I'm never letting go of my tablet again /j

Now Vi and Colette find themselves in an empty room, and they only realize when they get down that Paulina wasn't able to make it out in time. Now this entire time, Colette has been going through it. Of the girls, Colette's been taking the whole leaving-my-friends-behind-for-the-greater-good thing not well at all, and it culminates in an emotional breakdown. Violet comforts her and reassures her that they'll get the ring, they'll pick up the other girls and they'll get outa here soon, but they gotta be brave now for the other girls. (Kinda hard to capture in short and sweet words what the emotion of the scene was but oh well). After a bit of calming down, Colette and Violet look around to find themselves in a... surprisingly simple room? There's a door on the other side of the room from them, and besides that there's literally nothing but thin air.

The two go to the door and move to open it. Yeah this one's surprisingly simple. Just walk on over, pull the door open, walk o-- a gust of wind slammed the door shut . .

Yeah that's right. You ever leave a window in your room open on a windy day and leave your door also open, and the wind going into the room slams the door shut? Yeah, it's that multiplied by uhhhh how much is a vent opposite the door opening up just to blow f%#ken WIMDY-level winds just to slam that metal door shut? However that much multiplies that. The two find themselves in a situation where had all five of them been there to do this puzzle, it would've been far easier; but it is doable with only two people. The plan is one of them wedges themself between the door and the frame and prop it open, while the other crawls under the first person's leg. Transitioning to the second person propping the door open for the first person is gonna be a bit dodgy, but it is doable kinda.

Now Colette has been going through the ringer emotionally, and if you've seen this trope before, you'd know that it'd be a real damn shame if they lost their emotional pillar and had to carry the entire plan on their own, riiiiggghhttt? She's been the handling this situation the worst (emotionally), and it would bring her a belly of the beast to trump all bellies of all beasts and force her to do a The Next Right Thing (hot take: Anna's arc in Frozen 2 was really good), presumably after a lot of sobbing in the corner! It's perfect for angst, and it's perfect for empowerment to see Colette pick herself up and be strong for the girls and save the day!

Which is why Colette doesn't end up being the last one standing :D

Colette was the one who propped the door open for Violet, who crawled through to the other side. The plan was to have Vi switch with Colette so Colette can get through, but one thing they didn't take into account was the fact that the vent would slowly create stronger and stronger winds the longer the door is held open for, so Colette winds up allowing herself to be trapped in the air room so Violet can do the thing. (Oh and the plan was Colette's idea too.)

Heeyyyy Viiiiiiii~ Do you have some cash left over in your wallet? Because I think it's time for you to put your money where your mouth is :DDD

So yeah Violet continues on alone.

Also if you're wondering where Luke is this entire time, he is in fact in his base, still not touching grass and none the wiser about the whole five lil' rat girls sneaking into his base because of the whole frozen cams situation. He does technically notice something's off, but he thinks that the clock in one of the cameras is broken and he ends up complaining about it to Cassidy, haha L. It is also at this point where we learn that the girls have been in Luke's base for a little over three hours at this point :D

Meanwhile, Violet goes down the narrow metal staircase in the hallway outside of the last room and finds herself reminding herself to stay calm but also inside Luke's treasure room, where treasures of all shapes and sizes reside. From whole dinosaur skeletons to ancient Egyptian statues to paintings to suits of armor and-- holy shnit Luke has the Ark of the Covenant in there too o o yeah this guy means business holy crap--

The Ring of Eternal Love is in there too, the lone treasure in the set of seven empty pedestals that Luke was prolly intending for the Seven Treasures of the World. So Vi, clearly not having watched Indiana Jones Raiders of the Lost Ark, attempts to lift the glass case protecting the ring, which sets off the alarms in the treasure rooms, and whoa holy crap there's a robot voice speaking through the alarms? WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN FIFTEEN MINUTES TO SELF-DESTRUCTION

Luke, having the shock of his life, comes down to the treasure room to see what's up, and of course it's one of the five brats who's been getting in the way of his endeavors. Hardly a surprise, really, those five have been a pain in the ass from minute one of Luke looking into the Seven Treasures-- from stopping him getting the Alabaster Garden (he didn't even get to see what it was smh), to duping him with the most audacious of gottems to exist only partially due to his goon's stupidity, and now sneaking into the heart of his base without him, his cameras, or his sensors noticing. Strange how there's only one of them, though.

Just like Aurora Beatrix Lane almost a hundred years prior, this young lady is naive, morally stubborn, and idealistic. She is preaching out about sharing these treasures to all, even when the worth of these treasures comes partly in the luxury of not everyone being able to enjoy them. There is value in that sense of rarity, and it's not like any of the uncaring, ignorant whelps working in the museums look at the pieces that sit before them and realize the true value that they have the privilege of looking at everyday. They wouldn't care about them-- they would do the bare minimum to these unique masterpieces and leave it at that. And this naive brat thinks that they are more loving, more caring to these pieces than Luke is?

But as naive and morally pretentious and... ignorant of time and place this woman is (did she really not hear the self-destruct alarm and is thus willing to babble to her grave?)... she is clearly very intelligent. She was able to affect the base's security system such that she could come in undetected. She was able to get past all four traps without getting trapped herself. It is strange how she is alone here, though. She is usually with four other girls-- ah, that's it. They got trapped, and she left them, so she could get to the treasures on her own. What a show of common sense, that is! She must've seen that the traps were designed such that risking oneself to rescue a trapped person is just not worth it, and that first point already makes her far more intelligent than Cassidy or her buffoons could ever be. It could even be on-par with Luke himself. What if... perhaps....

What if they worked together?

Luke, after a bit of back and forth with Violet, gives Violet an offer to ditch her friends and become his partner. If she accepts they can divide everything between each other in the vault, and together, they'll be able to uncover the treasures of the world and enjoy them all to themselves.

I mean of course Vi turns down the offer in favor of sticking with her friends but y'know what it was worth a shot, Luke, kudos to you for spotting a gemstone instead of covering it with mud and pretending it's not there.

Heavily disappointed by Vi turning him down for the sake of "the power of friendship" (I wish I was kidding)(Scholastic!Vi's (?) words not mine)(I would be incredibly disappointed too), he turns to leave her in the treasure room, and it's only then that Vi realizes she kinda effed up. Luke is the only guy here who knows the base inside-out, and thus would know a way to get the girls out so they can Not Die. And to add insult to injury, Luke made a bomb shelter out of his treasure room, so the entire base may explode and the girls might die, but the treasures are gonna be completely fine. Intact, even. Luke leaves, and the robot voice announces ten minutes before self-destruction.

As soon as she's able to, Vi calls the elevator, juggling anxiety and being able to think under pressure. She figures out that Luke oh so helpfully uses pictograms for his elevator buttons instead of numbers, and presses the button for the control room (the heliport floor is locked by a key). She arrives in the control room, eight minutes before self-destruction.

Just as Vi enters the control room, the cameras get kicked back into action, oh so conveniently showing to Violet a timer ticking down to the big kaboom in real time, and footage of Nicky waiting anxiously in the pool room (and Luke leaving), for extra stakes. One Perception check said "yeah, this is a LOT of buttons, TOO MANY BUTTONS", and the tablet sitting on the desk required a password, so oh god what do

Six minutes before self-destruction and one panic attack later, Vi manages to psyche herself up enough to roll for Investigation. She finds a button for disarming the traps, and that allows the girls to get outa the traps and meet up again in the treasure room. Happy reunions aside tho, four minutes to self-destruction

Turns out the girls (thankfully) didn't know about the self-destruct situation. No need to explain tho because Vi is deadlifting the group braincell like she's never done before. She drags them down to the base's... basement, where a train that was probably used to carry the treasures into the base sits unused and ready for the girls to figure out how to work. Three minutes before self-destruction, no pressure :D

Pam sits at the train's controls, Paulina tries to help but immediately brain crashes at the old-timey controls, thus deciding she'd rather help Nicky get the bars off the rails up ahead. Two minutes left, and Pam figures it out and is ready to-- wait they need electricity-- okay cool Nicky and Paulina are taking care of that, cool

Pam gets the train to start up, Nicky and Paulina manage to hop back into the train, and escape the base's explosion range with about ten seconds to spare :D

After stopping the train in a spot where their braincells could afford to deflate, the girls take a minute or two to breathe y'know, just take a minute to breathe, nibble on some wild raspberries growing in Denali National Park, before figuring out what the hell their next move is.

Vi suggests they tell the authorities about the whole secret-base-under-the-park situation and the treasure room and the stuff inside it (since Luke oh so foolishly gloated to Vi about the treasures being perfectly safe), on top of removing the train so it's not getting up in nature's business. They head back to the car talking about their adventure, get a bit sad that they weren't able to find the Ring of Eternal Love-- and oop just kidding, Vi pocketed it in the treasure room right after Luke dipped :D

So on top of the girls escaping with their lives, not only is Luke gonna lose the Ring of Eternal Love as quickly as he got it, he's also losing his entire treasure vault. Can I get a ripperooni

And that's Legend of the Maze :D

I would say that the hyperfixation-that-consumed-these-girls'-lives-for-a-whole-week energy is very strong in this one in the best way, and the girls' personalities are at their most showcased here. The banter is bantering, the girls' dynamics with each other is very believable here, Vi is carrying the group's braincell the entire time and she looks like she's a bit tired from carrying it but y'know wut she's still willing to carry it because it's honest work and she knows how important it is to have it :3 also her trying to kill Colette's "Romeo and Juliet are so romantic" Santa but failing miserably because Colette unashamedly likes believing in the power of love is hilarious

The main thing I wasn't sure about was.... all the infodumpy bits? The infodump goes a significant bit harder in this book than the previous ones (even more than Compass of the Stars, which is an achievement), and it's Scholastic-style infodumping, so you get the girls calling Luke an "evil mouse" or "selfish mouse" and I'm sitting here like "just call him sewer rat please ya'll had no problems calling him that before please for the love of god use that instead it sounds better--"

Don't even get me started with Amrita Bianchi explaining to the girls what cosplay is like she's the damn Merriam Webster dictionary--

Also the Japan segment with y'know Japanese culture and stuff had the terms localized for some reason??? Like haori became "dark jacket", kimono became "long, elegant Japanese dress", they didn't even mention Ren's hakama (he was wearing a very traditional Japanese look), they felt the need to explain bento boxes as "typical Japanese portable lunch boxes" even though "Japanese lunch box" probably would've gotten the point across just fine and also there was an illustration of the bento boxes, Japanese characters became "logograms" for some reason, and dango became "rice dumplings" which became infinitely more confusing for me because the illustration made it look like takoyaki--

I could go on and on but yeah, there are a lot of these and it felt very infodump-y to me. I'm hoping it's just a translation thing, because the story overall feels pretty solid. Scholastic, what happened to the asterisks? Were they just too much for one page? I feel like you would've been able to squeeze them in just fine to make the reading experience a little smoother,,, just like, so it's an optional thing for the reader to read the mini-infodump of the term if they dunno what it means,,,

Other than that tho I don't think I have much to complain ab--

COUGHS GAGS SCREAMS CRIES WRITHES ON THE FLOOR

(I have the magic-of-friendship-invocation tolerance of an angsty teen I'm sorry :'3)

Scholastic, buddy chum pal buddy chum buddy chum pal,,,,

You could've had Vi say "the only way I got here was thanks to my friends", and it would've been fine and infinitely better-sounding and probably more in-character,,, o<-<

Gahd I hate it when Vi's used as the power of friendship prophet -m-

There's a more minor one as the girls are going back to the car and Vi is telling the girls about the deal Luke offered her, and the girls ask her what she said, and she says "I told him I already had the greatest treasure in the world... true friendship!"

Meanwhile I'm sitting there like "MMMMMGGGGGGHHHHHH 'friends like you' or 'sisters like you' or 'my friendship with you' would've sounded better -m-"

(Also the girls call each other like "friends", so like "you were in fact right, friends", which is like, what happened to "sisters" or "girls" those work perfectly fine and get the girls' close relationship across significantly better than "just friends")

Most of what I'm saying here tho are just nitpicks and probably (hopefully) are just stuff with the English translation-- in all seriousness, the book is pretty good.

Aurora's trail here makes sense and is rather logical, and the interesting thing I find about it is that it feels different from the previous two books' worth of shenanigans. Aurora in this one had far less veers and nation hopping shenanigans, and I feel that it was perhaps intentional. Perhaps to give off finale vibes-- Aurora works far more closely with her sister in this one, and the main thing the girls had to work with was not Aurora's diaries, but the letter she wrote to Linda when they were discussing the Ring of Eternal Love. Something about it feels closer, more intimate, more tragic than the previous ones. I felt the need to put her last to letters in the book verbatim because they were emotional dammit -m- Damn you British Amelia Earhart you've done it again /lhj

Luke's character I think is the strongest here. He gives off in a way the most... normal? Vibes here? He's still not touching grass and muttering to himself ominously a whole lot, but his mindset is nice and easy to wrap your head around here. He literally doesn't care about his goons unless he needs something from them, he is more than happy to overanalyze the crap out of a piece of text if he feels Cassidy didn't look through it thoroughly enough, and he wants what he wants right away, and that includes the things he needs to get the thing he actually wants. He as a character literally observes everything happen from his base in Alaska and backseat gamers the crap out of his goons if he sees something they didn't, or if they fumbled the bag and it was perfectly avoidable had it not been for SM being SM--

Also his blatant disrespect for his great-grandpappy Jan is holy crap haha-- it might just be my cultural background, but when I saw Luke call his great-grandpa "Jan" and then say "you disappoint me, Jan", I was flabbergasted haha, not a criticism I just wanted to mention it because I thought it was funny

I really like the fact that Stan and Max (aka SM) didn't show up at all in this book. It would've been easy to have them show up for regularly scheduled hijinks, but in Luke's mind, none of SM's operations have ever been... up to Luke's standards. Especially with how much of a ruckus they tended to make with their presence, they were more of a liability to Luke than an asset; therefore Luke changing up his strategy to be as hands-off and clean and non-intrusive as possible feels like something he'd do, what with how laser-focused he is on min-maxing efficiency to get what he wants as soon as possible.

Omar still being there despite being "fired" might just be a Scholastic oopsie so I can forgive it, Cassidy is still simping for Luke and trying to impress this man and trying to prove she's at an equal level to him, but every time nah. Just nah. Girlie you think you're on the same level as him, which can't possibly be further than the truth. I haven't seen Miraculous Ladybug, but I'd bet Cassidy has even less of a chance of impressing Luke, than Marinette had a chance at getting Adrien to see her as more than "just a friend" before they finally got together.

Now here's something I've been wanting to ramble about for a while: Violet being left alone instead of Colette. It's actually pretty clever when you think about it: Colette is the closest the girls have to a heart (tho she plays hot potato with Paulina when it comes to that role imo), so she's been the most emotional and the most sentimental of the group this entire time. From daydreaming about Romeo, to wanting to believe in love, to happily picking up a microphone to sing karaoke with the girls, to her strong reactions to having to leave the girls behind one by one for the sake of their mission, Colette was being set up for a moment where she is the one who is left alone. You see it a lot in media: the main character is the most sentimental one and as their friend squad make their way to the Big Bad Evil Guy, the supporting characters are forced to get left behind one by one to either hold the evil minions back or because there's no way for the character to move forward with the MC; so the MC is forced to go through the five stages of grief knowing that their friends trust them to get the job they'd set out to do done. It literally happened in Geronimo's third Kingdom of Fantasy book Amazing Voyage, and in that one Geronimo was the one who desperately didn't want to be alone, but he wound up carrying on alone anyway. You see this kinda thing everywhere.

However, in this bit, it makes total sense that Violet is the one who ends up carrying the last leg of the journey alone instead of Colette. Compared to Colette (and honestly the rest of the girls), Violet is the most level-headed. She's the girls' braincell keeper (in this trilogy), the babysitter holding the leash tied to the four gremlins, the one keeping everyone on track and also making sure that the group's collective ADHD doesn't spiral down as badly as it could possibly be. Whenever the girls make a big move that could affect the whole group, Vi is the one asking if it's a good idea or if it's worth doing, and she's the one thinking ahead enough to say "if x happens instead of y, what then?" You get the idea-- Vi is the most capable of keeping herself level-headed even when she's under all this pressure, and she's good at analyzing and planning on account of her often taking the position of the quiet observer.

With this context, it sort've makes you wonder what was going through Colette's head when she offered to help Violet get out of the air room. Violet and Colette in particular get paired together fairly often, and it's probably because of how well they're able to understand each other-- so with the plan, was Colette volunteering herself to prop the door open out of "it was my idea" courtesy, or was she thinking that maybe Violet would be able to figure things out better and thus needed to get to the other side? She probably was expecting to get to the other side with Vi, but would she have thought far enough ahead to a what-if where that wasn't possible? :3c

And Scholastic and power-of-friendship funkiness aside, Violet did handle the situation well, all things considered. The one bit where she only realized Luke was hers and the girls' only ticket out of there was a bit weird, but it can be chalked up to her not being able to take that into account in the moment because of a mix of stress, sheer bafflement from Luke's deal, and the fact that when put on the spot, observers don't exactly handle taking the driver's seat that well :'D (speaking as an observer myself here)

It makes me wonder a bit if Violet and Luke were meant to be foils of each other, what with how similar they are to each other (both of them being observers and planners who delegate more often than they do the work themselves), yet different enough that the contrast between the two is striking. Said difference being

Violet touches grass. Luke does not :)

Anyway so yeah, that's Treasure Seekers 3, and while it is kinda sad that this is where Treasure Seekers ends, y'know what? It gave a solid show as the last installment in the trilogy. I liked it, I liked the canon compliant blorbo angst, I liked the characters character-ing when the dialogue was letting them breathe :]

And of course, we can't forget

God's sleepiest soldier <3

She deserves that nap after what she went through and you know it--

[sea-salted-wolverine]

Do you ever have a moment where a passing recollection from childhood flutters through your brain, and you almost don't consider it until you realized that it was actually really fucking strange? And then you call your mom, and hesitatingly because you don't really trust your six-year-old imagination and memory, describe your version of events and ask for the perspective of someone who was an adult at the time, only to have her offer clarification that is perhaps a dozen times more bat shit than what you thought happened?

I was 6. I might have been 5. Maybe 7. I dont really know. It's not important. My brother is 4 years younger than me and he could walk and had teeth at the time. That is important.

We were regularly going to service at my grandmother's church. There was a children's area/playground/daycare thing that was offered as an alternative for sermons so no one had to deal with the loud fidgety babies. I think, like I said, I don't super trust my recollection.

There was a disagreement. I made someone cry. There was no hitting. We were asked to leave and then only showed up to church again after that on Easters and Christmas.

That's what I remember. Which isn't a huge deal until you think about how badly things had to go for an entire family to get kicked church. Semi permanently. So I asked about it several decades later.

Let it be said that I am an atheist not because I had some grand dramatic break up with God, but because there just was no religion at all in my life, certainly nothing that's stuck. This is why. It is also worth noting that this happened within like a month.

So first, the pastor/the reverend/someone in charge was embezzling money. How? Is that even possible? Fuck if I know. My grandmother did not go to church for the reverence or the religion, she went for the politics. She's the kind of woman who enjoys holding power over other people. She and Pop-pop were at elders at the church and had opinions about the misappropriation of funds. It gives me joy to conceptualize this in the tones of some gritty mafia movie so that's how it's gonna be. There was a titanic covert power struggle over the fiscal health of this suburban community church.

Dad actually did have a dramatic break up with the bad boyfriend that is God. How and where exactly this happened in the timeline is unclear.

Mom and Granny were both in the bell's choir. Singing and music and fun times. Also quite a bit of homophobia. This was the nineties and a different church down the road had announced they were open to having gay weddings. This resulted a fervor of gossip and unchristian remarks about awful degenerates burning in hell. Mom did not appreciate this and managed to create a schism throughout the choir, starting a cold war of dirty looks and sneers. Evidently the music took a turn for the shitty as well. To be clear, This was not a case of activism or allyship. This was a group of people who believed themselves to be superior for not being gay versus a group of people who believed themselves superior for not gossiping.

The day care thing, turned out to be a series of separate incidences. The first being when baby me having hyperfixated on Greek myths decided to info dump on my sister and inform her that the Greek gods were just stories and fake, just like jesus and the Christian God. This also resulted in some consternation from the adult who is supposed to be watching us and in theory guiding us towards a more godly life. Supposedly there was a serious talk with my parents after the fact. However there have been so many serious talks with my parents about my behavior and the things that come out of my mouth that they have in fact blurred together and even my mom has no idea what I did. It is worth noting that this probably did not help my dads Spiritual Questioning.

There were several other incidences but the culminating moment, the one that wound up with us walking out mid service to never return, started when my mother's 17 year old cat died fighting something in the Bush.

This cat was an outdoor cat and as a result kill a lot of things. Baby me had a very good idea of what dead animals looked like and everything that entailed. Baby me had also not really been formally introduced to the concept of heaven, which seems like an oversight on the part of some adult.

So at the day care thing we are all sitting in a circle, going around, and talking about sad things that have happened to this group of slightly older than toddlers so we will have something to pray about. There is another little girl whose cat has died.

I would like to think that the adult version of me would have handled this better.

The long and the short of it is, I informed everyone that heaven wasn't real, dead things stay dead forever, there isn't really such thing as a soul, especially not for cats. Just imagine the worst tone-deaf atheist asshole you know, except 6.

So, she started bawling. The adult that is meant to be in charge is just staring at me in horror. No one told him that he would have to explain the afterlife today. And they really didn't mention that he would be cross-examined by a critical six-year-old while another one sobs.

The conversation that followed had to be hilarious, but due to the foibles of my brain and the intervening decades, I do not remember it at all. A great loss for us all.

Remember how I said it was important that my baby brother has teeth at this point? While I am engaged in theological debate with an increasingly desperate Day care worker, my wonderful loving and loyal baby brother is told that I am a mean person. While this is arguably true, he also loves me. Significantly more than he loves common sense. Or manners. Or Jesus for that matter. His big sister is the best person in the world, actually.

Queue the fighting for my honor.

Yes, he started biting.

My sister is an empathetic cryer and is now also sobbing.

The poor daycare man has not convinced me that heaven exists, but he's now wondering if this is the threshold of hell. Someone goes to get mom or dad or granny or anyone who can do anything about the tiny heathens unleashed on the kiddy hour.

So, yeah. We never went back. Only my sister ever missed it. Next Sunday, Mom told us to go explore the abandoned gravel pit for an hour or so.

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

Round 1 poll 13: Rev. Green from Cluedo vs the Nachtraven from Nachtraven

Propaganda under the cut:

Rev. Green:

1) Literally just a random board game character 😪 2) Ok so basically here’s the deal. One day, about a year and a half or two years ago, I saw some random thing related to Clue online. I (dual U.S. American and Russian citizen, because I was born in America to an immigrant parent, I PROMISE this is important) was confused because among the cast of characters was “Mr. Green”. Now, I hadn’t played Clue in a very long time. It wasn’t my favorite game as a kid, my only memories of it were wanting to play as Ms. Peacock and then my brother taking her and making me pick someone else, but I was pretty confident the character was Reverend Green. What happened? Was he excommunicated?? I kind of figured the name was just changed to reflect a more secular culture and that I had unknowingly played an old copy of the game as a kid.

But it fascinated me. So I spent months on and off researching the topic. (poorly, might I add, it wasn’t a complicated issue. But still.) I found out about many changes from version to version. Clue Junior, Clue VCR Mystery, Clue Master Detectives, all of it. And the whole time, Green was there to greet me in each new version. It was the first thing I always checked. Was he Mister or Reverend? I found out in one version he was a defrocked priest turned businessman, and in another a scam artist who pretended to be a member of the clergy to pull of a scheme. Closer. I ran polls, I went to irl Clue events, and eventually I found what I was looking for the whole time. Green was a Reverend in the 1944 patent of the game, and the subsequent 1949 U.K. release of Cluedo. But, because of fear that U.S. Citizens would take issue with a member of the church being suspected of murder, Parker Brothers changed the name to Mister Green for the U.S. release.

That all could have taken me five minutes of googling, but honestly the chase made the result so much more worth it. And yet, there was something more there in the back of my mind. This all was well and good, but why was I so sure of the U.K. version of the name? My father’s family is Irish so we have a pretty healthy hatred of all things British, there’s no way my dad would’ve had us play that version of the game. Right? But thanks to a response from a poll I ran, I found out that the German version also went with Reverend. Because Green is an Anglican, I kind of assumed that the U.S. change might have been carried over into other international releases. But no! That made me realize that Mister Green is an outlier and that almost all languages of the game use Reverend. So then last night the pieces finally clicked together. I asked my mom to confirm a hunch I had, not expecting her to at all remember something this trivial. Like I said, I didn’t play it much as a kid. Maybe we didn’t even own a copy, and I had just played it at a library or a hurricane shelter or a relative’s house or something. But she remembered. We did, in fact, own the game. Not just any version, but a RUSSIAN COPY. I unknowingly grew up with Cluedo! So I had every reason to believe it was Reverend Green and be confused when I heard otherwise.

Tl;dr, minor version difference between Russian and American copies of a board game gave me a hyperfixation and a blorbo.

Nachtraven:

SO! The Nachtraven is the titular character of a Dutch children’s gameshow.

They’re a cyberpunk-synthwave-medieval fantasy knight (which is honestly an awesome aesthetic) who breaks into children’s bedrooms at night, lures from their sleepovers and makes them compete against each other in challenges… and the winners get to have a lovely sleepover at whatever place they were lured to.

Seriously, they’re so ominous, so sinister, so villain-coded, but all they want to do is to make children’s sleepovers even better. They’re just a nice guy/entity.

They don’t speak, and instead communicate using electronic beeps, gestures, tape recordings of a woman’s voice and the visor of their knight’s helmet as an LED display they put words on.

Seriously, if this was an American show, all the cryptidcore kids would be citing them as one of their biggest childhood influences. I hope that one day they will be recognised as the true cryptid they are.