#yes both of them are accurate as to how i’m feeling about being the birthday boy

[dayleebear]

in my birthday era

[ladyhindsight]

Family tree anon again. Another continuity error I’ve noticed is that in the CP2 family tree it states that Jem and Will were born in 1861 (I think Jessie is the same age as well) and Tessa in 1862, which would make them 17 and her 16 in TID (this is confirmed in canon afair).

I don’t know where these new dates originated, but in the TSC wikia it states that Jem Will and Jessie were born in 1860, with Jem’s birthday in November, Will’s in December, and Jessie’s in August. So means the 3 of them would be turning 18 in 1878. Maybe I’m just doing the math wrong, but this makes no sense to me in canon.

First of all: Jessie always mentions how much she hates being a Shadowhunter and how she wants to leave the Institute, but she can’t since she’s still underage. If she actually turned 18 in 1878, she would’ve been able to leave during the event if CP (which takes place in July-August).

Second: Jem and Will are always being excluded from things involving the Enclave since they’re underage, but I feel like if they were turning 18 that year they still wouldn’t be treated like children? Also when Tessa and Jem are talking about their wedding, Jem says he feel guilt for binding her to marriage at 16, and she replies “you’re only 17”. How could he be “only 17” if he’s turning 18 soon?

I just don’t get how CC could change something like this that’s so clearly in canon.

Helloo!

This was actually a bigger rabbit hole than I first anticipated. Also the biggest mystery why Clare changed Will’s and Jem’s birthdays at all!! Not the first time assigning whatever birthdays have fucked up things. So, the Shadowhunters fan wiki says Will’s birthday is December 30, 1860, and it is sourced Clockwork Angel 10th Anniversary Special Edition. I watched a flipthrough of that edition but I didn’t really see where the info was exactly. The trivia on Will’s character says that (as of December 7, 2023):

The birthday (December 30, 1860) assigned to Will and revealed in the 10th Anniversary Edition of Clockwork Angel contradicts previously established canon: In Clockwork Prince, he said he was three months younger than Jem (whose birthday was revealed as November 8, 1860, making him only a month younger), and his birth year was listed as 1861 in the "found" family tree released with Clockwork Princess and An Illustrated History of Notable Shadowhunters & Denizens of Downworld, though the family tree may easily be considered inaccurate.

But the An Illustrated History of Notable Shadowhunters & Denizens of Downworld should be accurate, and I did check and Jem’s birth year is 1861 as is Will’s. (Thought to note on accuracy, many details have changed concerning TLH characters as well.) Now Jem’s assigned birthday is November 8, 1860 (source Clockwork Angel 10th Anniversary Special Edition) and the trivia says, “In Clockwork Prince, Jem is said to be three months older than Will. However, in the 10th anniversary edition of Clockwork Angel, their birth dates were revealed as one month apart; causing a continuity issue.”

Definitely. The scene in Clockwork Prince, chapter 4 “A Journey” went like this:

“Yes, though Charlotte’s rather fallen off in tutoring us lately, as you might imagine,” said Will. “One either has a tutor or one is schooled in Idris—that is, until you attain your majority at eighteen. Which will be soon, thankfully, for the both of us.” “Which one of you is older?” “Jem,” said Will, and “I am,” said Jem, at the same time. They laughed in unison as well, and Will added, “Only by three months, though.” “I knew you’d feel compelled to point that out,” said Jem with a grin.

Soon, meaning next year? Which makes me wonder what the original dates of birth were.

Jessamine was born August 10, 1860 (source Clockwork Angel 10th Anniversary Special Edition), but no trivia notes on her birthday. Probably because it was intended to be the one stated. In Clockwork Angel she even says in chapter 6 “Strange Earth”, “As I am sure horrid Will has told you, my parents, my dear papa and mama, are dead. But they left me a not inconsiderable sum of money. It was put aside in trust for me until my eighteenth birthday, which is only in a matter of months. You see the problem, of course.” Which takes place in May once Tessa has arrived to London. Tessa is born January 28, 1862, sourced also Clockwork Angel 10th Anniversary Special Edition. No trivia notes on the birthday because it is what it is.

The book timeline is:

1873, November 10: “Will Herondale left Wales and his family to become a Shadowhunter. Months after, Jem Carstairs arrived at the London Institute and met his future parabatai Will.” I wonder how that year was come up with since Will only tells Cecily in Clockwork Princess chapter 10 “Like Water Upon Sand” that “I first came here when I was twelve” and “It was, to be precise, the tenth of November of that year. And every year after, on the anniversary of that day, I would fall into a black mood of despair.” Which, in the “original” timeline, would mean Will had already turned 12 by November, because originally he was born 1861. Now that canon has changed, it means Will would turn 13 in the end of December, making him already soon to be 18 years old in 1878, which is not the case as we later see here. What also speaks of the fact that Will turned 12 years old in 1873 is this:  “When he’d reached twelve years of age, he’d been sent to the Institute; at that time he’d still been so small that he’d looked barely nine.” Quite point blank period.

1878 April is when the events from Clockwork Angel begin. Will is 17, Jem is 17, Jessie is 17 about to turn 18, Tessa 16. In May, Tessa arrives at London. On June 5, Clockwork Angel ends.

July to August, Clockwork Prince takes place. I don’t remember there being a mention of Jessie’s birthday. On July 27 Benedict threw the secret masquerade ball which Tessa and Will infiltrated. At this point Jessamine is already 18 and engaged to Nate. In the chapter 11 “Wild Unrest” of Clockwork Prince Sophie finds the invite from Benedict and it is dated 20th of August, which means Jessie’s birthday came and went, and I couldn’t find a single mention of it.

One could argue she stayed at the Institute in order to spy the Institute for Nate (and by extension for Mortmain). She had a chance to leave but she was also enamored with Nate and subsequently played into his plans. And after her betrayal Clave took her wealth and she was ordered to return to the Institute by Charlotte. So, Jessamine essentially (after turning 18) was spying for Nate and Mortmain, subsequently caught and tied to a bedpost, interrogated and taken to Silent City. After being released from the Silent City she was returned to the London Institute where she was immediately killed upon arrival. I mean, she had her moments to leave but in the end she stayed and some of these could be reasons why. I don’t think Clare really thought of Jessamine as much, though in Clockwork Angel chapter 6 “Strange Earth”Jessie says:

“Don’t you? I can leave the Institute, Tessa, but I cannot live alone. It wouldn’t be respectable. Perhaps if I were a widow, but I am only a girl. It just isn’t done. But if I had a companion—a sister—”

So there’s the main reason. It isn’t proper. Additionally in Clockwork Prince chapter 2 “Reparations” Jessamine says, “I don’t want to be thrown out of the Institute if we can’t find the Magister,” Jessamine went on. “Is that so difficult to understand?” When Charlotte tells her she can leave if she wants. So there’s also that.

October to December, Clockwork Princess takes place. Will proposed to Tessa in the Institute Christmas party and later tells Cecily, “You can’t be married, Cecily! You’re only fifteen! When I get married, I’ll be eighteen! An adult!” So Will was still 17, also ironic that there wasn’t such opposition when James and Cordelia get married at 17.

Also interestingly, Gabriel’s birthday is June 2, also in 1860 but in Clockwork Angel he is described as “the youngest of the group, a boy probably no more than a year older than Jem or Will.” Which could be Well, he looked older! But in light of all that we have gathered here, Clare initially wrote Jem and Will having been born in 1861. Then later Callida Fairchild says, “Perhaps with help from James Carstairs and Will Herondale, but neither of them is any older than seventeen. How much help can they be?” Also meaning Will and Jem were both born in 1861. Also:

“Nate, Tessa thought disgustedly, is exactly two years older than Will. Hardly a century. Nor is he by any stretch of the imagination “mature.”

And Nate’s birth year is stated to be 1859.

In the chapter 24 “The Measure of Love” in Clockwork Princess, Will thinks how it is “First Christmas morning without Jem in six years. The purest cold, bringing the purest pain.” For which the birthdays make even less sense in the context of “Months after, Jem Carstairs arrived at the London Institute and met his future parabatai Will.”

1. Christmas morning, aged 12 (because Will was already 12 when he came to London Institute)

2. Christmas, aged 13

3. Christmas, aged 14

4. Christmas, aged 15

5. Christmas, aged 16

6. Christmas, aged 17 (When Jem has become a Silent Brother)

Because Jem was 11 years old when Yanluo attacked (“When I was eleven, Yanluo found a weak spot in the ward that protected the Institute, and tunneled inside.”), so it stands to reason it didn’t take years for him to arrive at London.

Anyway, the point of this tirade is the same as yours. There is so much stuff stating Will’s and Jem’s ages, so why in the earth would she change it by a year and fuck all of this up?? I cannot fathom.

[liberty-barnes]

(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds Breaks Down Her Tattoos | GQ

Part 9 of the (Y/n) Lively-Reynolds series

Tom Holland x Singer/Actress!Lively-Reynolds!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) goes on GQ to explain her tattoos. It goes about as well as you can imagine.

Warnings: *smirks* just a couple of breakdown inducing fluffy things, no big deal, also a heavy load of background on (Y/n)’s life, as well as some mention of Louis and Harry’s closeting situation because my Larrie bones are strong and they’re everywhere

Word Count: 2.5k words

Estimated Reading Time: 12 minutes

A/N: Haha. Get guessing. And yes I did spend an hour on Picsart looking for the tattoos I wanted and putting them here so you have visual support for what I'm gonna be saying.

Also, in case you missed it, there is one more bonus chapter added to this series, you can check it out on the masterlist or here:

BONUS 6

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Click.

(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds appears, sitting on a stool in front of a white background. She’s wearing a white corset top, solid silk on the cups but see through everywhere else, as well as a light blue skirt and some white pumps.

She’s gesturing to her left arm.

“I actually have my next one planned really soon. It’s gonna be just a massive wolf’s head on my upper arm- why are you cringing? How did you end up doing a tattoo segment if tattoos scare you, Claire?”

Cut.

“Hi, I’m (Y/n) Lively-Reynolds and today, I’m here to break down my tattoos!”

The screen shows a number of her tattoos from a few different angles, before turning back to her.

“Alright, let’s try to do this chronologically. So the first tattoos I got were these ones on my outer ankle.”

The camera shows the tattoos, two short words following the curves of each of her lateral malleoli.

“I got these the day I turned eighteen. It’s my parents’ nicknames for me, written in their handwriting. Mom’s always called me angel cause well, I am one.”

She looks at the camera with an expression that screams “duh”.

“And Dad calls me daffodil cause it means new beginning in the language of flowers, and well, we’ve both had those.”

Next is a series of Roman numerals spelling XI-XIII-MMVIII just under her left collarbone.

“This one I got on my Mom’s birthday, just after the first two. It’s the date she adopted me and that we decided to use as my official birthday cause apparently I exude Scorpio energy. Mom often says she should have waited a few weeks cause two Scorpios in one household isn’t manageable. I don’t know what she’s talking about, I’m a delight to be around, especially when my Dad’s involved as well.”

Off-screen, someone asks.

“Do you know your actual date of birth, though?”

“I don’t, actually. The government whipped up a birth certificate when I was left at the orphanage, and they had to guess a bit, but it’s not fully accurate. I figured I’d just keep the day Mom adopted me as my birthday, cause it really did feel like that was the day I was born, you know? It didn’t feel like living until Mom showed me how to.”

The camera cuts to a view of her left arm, where a familiar symbol is tattooed.

“This one here I got the day I filmed my last episode for Supernatural. It’s the anti-possession tattoo that you see on the show, in the exact same place my character had hers. So yeah, a nice memory from the show which also keeps me safe from any demons wanting to take control of my meat suit.”

She smiles cheekily and the crew laughs.

The camera then shows a video of her chest, where the symbols for woman and man are connected by an infinity sign on her sternum. Her hands cover her breasts, and we can see that her nails are painted in a soft pink colour.

“This one I got when I was… nineteen? I think? I was at Comic-Con, during a panel for Supernatural and a girl named Sarah, she had to be a couple of years younger than me at the time… She told me that I was the reason she came out, that she understood that being bisexual is okay and she doesn’t have to choose, then she thanked me for helping her learn who she is.

“That was the moment I realised that I can do good with my platform, that what I say and how I act matter. I scheduled an appointment at Funhouse right after that and I got this tattoo the same day.”

The camera then shows a view of her left wrist, where the word breathe is written.

“This one I got a few months after Supernatural ended. While I was on the show, everyone protected me, cause I was so young. For two years, I lived in a bit of a happy bubble where I got to do what I loved without having to worry about many of the responsibilities.

“But when it ended, that changed. Suddenly, I was getting scripts left and right, people were recognizing me on the streets much more often, tabloids printed out the most gruesome and untrue gossip about me, everyone was wondering what my next step would be, including me… 

“It was all a bit overwhelming. I got this cause it’s in an easy-access place, and I can discreetly trace it whenever I’m nervous. It’s such a simple reminder, to breathe, but it got me through a lot of tough times when I was making the transition between being the child of someone famous that few people know or care about, to being someone famous myself.”

The camera then pans to her right ribcage, showing three delicate butterflies.

“I got this one when I was twenty-two. Up until then, I’d always been living with someone, whether that be my parents, or friends that I’d already made.

“But when I started filming for Forsaken, I didn’t have any of that. The plot of the movie is that my character, Adelia, is the sole survivor of a shipwreck and has to learn to take care of herself on a deserted island. It’s not until well into the film that we discover that there’s a tribe living on that island, on the other side of the mountains, and she joins them.

“As such, most of the initial filming was done alone. I was on a Hawaiian island,  I only had the crew around me, and as much as I bonded with them, it wasn’t the same as when you have a cast to share the load of filming.

“Much like my character, I had to learn to become independent, to live without my parents or my friends around to always remind me what to do. I didn’t have a PA at the time, either, so I had to learn to check my own schedule and make sure everything was in the right place. It sounds very spoiled, but when we’re filming, we’re extremely busy, so I was sort of on overdrive all the time.

“But at the same time, it made me feel grown, free. I knew that I could take care of myself, but that was the confirmation that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. So as soon as filming was over, I got these tattooed, to represent the freedom and the changes I went through during that filming.”

Subtitles appear on the screen, transcribing a question asked by the interviewer off-screen.

“Do you think that’s what made your performance so good? Even mentioned by some critics as the best performance of your career?”

She nods.

“Definitely. It’s the work I’m most proud of. I think because we went through similar things, I really managed to identify with Adelia. I think at some point the lines between me and her blurred. There’s a big part of me in Adelia and how she’s portrayed, but there’s also a part of Adelia in me, that I’ll most likely carry forever.”

The camera then shows her left ribcage, on the side of her body, where Louis Tomlinson’s famous smiley face is tattooed, along with the phrase we’ll be alright underneath. The lines are a bit wobbly, as though they weren’t done professionally, but the smile on her face as she talks about them is blinding.

“These are two of my favourites, actually. They’re two tattoos that complement each other, and I got them done just last year, in February. Louis and Harry have always been a big inspiration to me, not only because they’re amazing lyricists and performers, but because they stayed together through years of abuse, closeting, and homophobia until circumstances were finally right for them to come out. Since at the time, I was in a somewhat secret relationship as well, it felt nice to talk to someone who understood that yes, I want to brag about my boyfriend, but I don’t want everyone forcing me to admit something so private. I wanted things to be done on our own terms, and Lou and Haz understood that. 

“I spent two months with them, showing them my songs, getting closer to them, as well. We started out as mere acquaintances because Taylor introduced us, and two weeks into my stay, I could honestly say they’re some of my closest friends.

“So, after much begging on my part and promises that I would not regret it, I convinced them to tattoo me. Louis did the smiley face with the x’s, cause I love it and I’d always wanted to get it. Then Harry did the we’ll be alright underneath, for two reasons: one is that it’s a reference to Fine Line, my absolute favourite song of his, and a great inspiration for my own debut album, and two is that it’s just a gentle reminder that when everything’s going wrong, it’ll be alright eventually.”

Next is a dragon tattoo on her right thigh. It takes up almost the entire surface of it and is extremely detailed.

“This one, I’m not gonna lie, it hurt like a motherfucker. It’s the most detailed one I have, too. At first, I barely even felt anything, because the thighs aren’t as sensitive, so I was lulled into a false sense of security. But the tattoo was huge and detailed, and it has a lot of shading as you can see. 

“I was alright for the first hour, and the second only hurt a little, kind of like how when I got my butterfly tattoos. By hour three it was starting to be really fucking painful, and by the time the artist was doing the last shading, I was ready to chop off my legs and be done with it, it hurt so bad. I wanted to seem tough, so I just followed the instructions calmly and walked out of the studio, but as soon as the door closed and they couldn’t see me anymore, I had Tommy carry me out. I could barely walk.

“Seriously, four hours in what feels like constantly the same spot was– complicated, my leg was sore for a couple of days. Tommy loved it, of course, he likes taking care of me, and he’ll take any opportunity to get to touch me so I just let him mother-hen me a bit. 

“Besides, the tattoo was an homage to him so he felt like it was partially his fault that I was suffering. I got it right after we went public with our relationship because dragons are a symbol of strength and hidden knowledge. It’s my way to remember that no matter how much everyone talks and thinks they know everything, we’re the only ones who know who we really are.”

She looks off screen and snorts.

“Oh, my God, are you crying? Maisie, no, don’t cry! If you start crying, I’ll start crying and then my makeup will be ruined.”

Cut.

(Y/n) gently wipes her eyes.

“Oof, okay, that’s enough of that, we still have a couple more. Now, what came after the dragon? Oh, right! The snake!”

The camera now shows a familiar snake, tattooed onto the middle of her back, right over her spine.

“I got this one the day my debut album, Stepping Stones, came out. The snake is my album cover, and although many people see it as a negative symbol, it’s completely different in my book.

“Snakes represent rebirth and transformation, they’re a symbol of creative life force. This album was very personal to me. Lyrically, it can be very vague, and represent many things, but if you look closely enough, it’s like you’ll get a peek into my mind, and into all the moments where I’ve had to change, adapt, and overcome difficulties. This one also hurt like a bitch, which, after the dragon one I should have been discouraged but… Tom always jokes and calls me a masochist cause I keep getting tattoos even though I always end up crying afterwards.”

Finally, the camera pans to her left collarbone, where a series of Roman numerals sits parallel to the first ones, spelling out XVII-XII-MMXXII.

The camera switches back to her just in time to see the brief panic pass through her face, that she cleverly disguises with a laugh.

“This one’s my most recent one! I got it about ten days ago! It’s the date we adopted our dog, Atalanta. She’s a rescue and had been at the shelter ever since she was just a couple of weeks old. Tom actually went there with Harrison, his best friend, cause he was looking to get a cat. But Tom saw Tala and it was love at first sight. So now I have two golden retrievers instead of just one.”

Cut.

She smiles.

“And that’s all the tattoos I have for now! I want to say a special thank you to my interviewer, Claire, my camerawoman, Maisie, and my amazing PA, Georgia, for making this interview run smoothly and not be extremely awkward given that you saw me half-naked for a lot of it.”

The crew laughs and she blows them kisses.

“Anyway, I hope you liked this video, and don’t forget to subscribe to GQ for more videos like these!”

End of video.

Recommended:

TomYn got engaged??? Rumors explained

Larry Stylinson being that most powerful of power couples for 45 minutes gay

(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds funny moments [2022 version]

62,597,135 views ● December 28th 2022

48M 👍 367K 👎

756,125 comments

yn_my_beloved: if wasn’t sure i was a lesbian before this video i definitely am now, holy shit, where i can get one?

tomfuckinghotland: i love how literally every tattoo has a meaning, no matter how small it is, and she just- lets us in on them? Like up until now i thought she got the butterflies cause they were pretty but omg!!! I’ve never felt so honoured to be let into someone’s mind

iphoneconspiracies28: (Y/n)’s really just out here living all our collective dreams, getting to hang out with Larry and have them tattoo her!!! ALEXA PLAY I WISH BY ONE DIRECTION

girlsboysandyn: I’m sorry, you’re telling me that the bisexual symbol tattoo was a result of me telling (Y/n) she gave me the courage to come out? She remembers me? I made a difference in her life? That’s it, I’ve peaked.

steppingstonesholland: Uh… Guys. The date she has written is December 17th 2022. They adopted Atalanta on December 3rd. And the panic??? What does this mean?? ARE THE ENGAGEMENT RUMORS TRUE PLS I CAN’T HANDLE THIS HOLY FUCKING SHIT

tomynschild: New prompt just dropped: Tom taking care of (Y/n) after she got the dragon tattoo, writers, make us proud.

(Y/n) Lively-Reynolds ✔ reply to tomynschild: Do you think it would get them writing faster if I posted a couple of the videos I took of when he was taking care of me?

tomynschild reply to (Y/n) Lively-Reynolds ✔: Most definitely yes please mom.

[rainbowsky]

DON'T PANIC

My fine turtle friends, take this cup of hot cocoa and come sit around the fire with rainbowsky on this stormy day, and let's have a bit of a chat, shall we?

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

I've been buried under panicked, heartbroken asks today, and people freaking out about the recent controversies. It's understandable that fans who don't understand what's going on might be a bit shaken, but we need to clear our heads and stay strong.

Turbulence is part of travel - buckle up

A few things have happened recently that have shaken some turtles up a bit (primarily in the international fandom - C-turtles remain mostly unaffected by any of this).

A paparazzo claimed 'all GG ships are fake'. I talked about this in some detail the other day, and Pie did an excellent follow-up to it explaining why paps shouldn't be taken too seriously.

A fake shisheng account on Twitter hyped up a bunch of turtles on the claim that GG and DD were going to spend DD's birthday together, and was later proved wrong when GG was photographed in Hainan on DD's birthday. (Resulting, incredibly, in a lot of fans reacting by thinking GG and DD broke up, rather than accepting that the Twitter account had been lying all along).

An XFX fan account connected to GG's official fan club claimed that "the artist is single."

I think it's incredibly important for all turtles to please remember that no one, absolutely no one, speaks for GG or DD, except GG and DD. Not people who some fans might foolishly believe have access to inside information, not people who are part of the solo fandom on Weibo, not anyone, OK?

Yes, it is true that the XFX account is connected with GG's official fan club, but at the end of the day it is still a shrimp and can only ever speak for - and in the interests of - that fandom.

A huge part of the problem here is that there have been some straight GG CP fans causing a lot of hassle lately, and something needed to be said to try to bring them under control. GG is on the hook for managing his fans. It's a stated government policy now, and his official fan club is part of how that is meant to be done.

Only time will tell whether they've helped the situation or only made matters worse. Putting GG on hot search again and 'taking up public resources' with this type of personal celebrity gossip is never in GG's best interests, but probably especially not at this point in time, and especially not when he was so recently on hot search for the whole pap thing.

Statements are a normal part of fandom reality

This type of statement goes with the territory of being a CP fan. I understand people feel shaken because this is a more sweeping statement than has been issued in the past, but it would be totally unrealistic to expect never to hear a broader refutation of CP rumors, particularly with how out of control some straight CP fans have been lately, and particularly considering the heightened pressure stars are under to manage fans.

And the fact that it came from a fan club account (not even from the official fan club Weibo account, but from a prominent fan club member) instead of from GG's studio is worth noting.

This type of broader statement is also not without precedent. Look at the whole WZC ship thing that happened years ago. GG's studio (not a fan club account, but his official studio) issued a refutation of CP rumors back then, and the way it was framed it was broad enough to include BJYX. His studio had to issue such a statement, given the upheaval that the situation was causing at the time.

Is it possible this recent XFX statement is an accurate reflection of XZ Studio's position? Absolutely. This is nothing new. We've always known the official position of any star at their level needs to be "I'm single." This should not come as a surprise to anyone.

Both GG and DD have repeatedly presented themselves as single in interviews and in the public eye. Anyone who expects them to do otherwise is severely out of touch with the reality GG and DD are working within.

They both have projects coming out, they can't afford scandals.

Perhaps the most honest moment relating to this topic is the exchange on DDU where DD and Wang Han were talking about “Being single in front of the camera.” (I wish I could find that clip but I’ve come to accept I suck at finding clips!).

There is no way for GG or DD to say, “I’m in a relationship" or even hint at it on a broader scale. That stuff is for turtle's eyes only.

Remember your shell

I think it's good for everyone to remember that part of our role as turtles is to take bullets. We are here to be clowns so that GG and DD can have cover while still enjoying the support of BXG.

As I've said in the past, GG and DD’s relationship is under the radar. If it was as obvious to everyone else as it is to us, that would ultimately mean that their relationship is ‘out’, which would really harm their careers.

So it’s in GG and DD’s best interests that we seem crazy to other people. Wear it like a badge of pride. Every humiliating, snide, mocking remark from others is a reminder that we are supporting them while also protecting them. Better that we seem like lunatics to others, than that GG and DD are outed against their will to the broader world at large.

Being a turtle will always mean that we will be targets for hate and ridicule. It's just part of the package. People are going to take any chance they can to try to hurt or discredit us. Especially solos, whose feelings are often rooted in boyfriend fantasies with GG and DD.

If you want to be a turtle you're going to have to work on toughening up your shell, because this fandom isn't for the faint of heart.

What now?

I suspect that we will see one of a few possible responses from GGDD:

GG will make a statement of his own, using vaguer terms.

Candy will be dropped to reassure turtles.

The whole thing will be ignored and allowed to blow over.

A lot will depend on how C-turtles respond to this. As far as I can tell they aren't panicking or freaking out like i-turtles are, so I'm leaning toward the likelihood that this will just be left to blow over.

EDIT: They chose option #2. 😅

My advice to turtles

My #1 piece of advice is to stay off Twitter if you can't take the heat. Seriously. 99.9% of the panicked asks I get are from people who've been hanging out on Twitter. The place is so damn toxic, and fans keep going there and getting treated badly and then coming back here to have their wounds tended to. I don't mind being a support to everyone, but it's always best not to get injured in the first place.

Curate your fandom experience, particularly if you're going to hang out in places like Twitter. Block and ignore. Don't even read the messages!! When you catch a hint that it's toxic, stop reading the message and just block the person.

Stop taking the word of antis so seriously. They by their very nature have a goal to hurt you by any means necessary.

Focus on GG and DD and the projects and content they are bringing out. Find your joy and stick with it.

Step away from the computer or phone and get some fresh air.

You might also find my fandom survival guide helpful.

Remember that the turtle fandom has existed for 4 years now. GG and DD have allowed this fandom to exist and have fed us regularly. There is no reason to believe that has changed.

BJYXSZD

[rosesvioletshardy]

overtime win celebrations - mat barzal

okay this is very unedited because i lowkey rushed it and i know it’s bad. also this is very bad smut because i haven’t written it in a while and i tried to read others and my old ones to get some inspiration and try to make it at least accurate in a way idk

also a very happy birthday mat today 

(isles win today or else i’ll fly to new york and 🔪) (jk ,,, unless)

this was requested by @gigissports​ who gave me the idea of this fic when i said i wanted to write a fic but didn’t know what to write about or who to write about so thank you to her and i hope you like it

(also idk what that title is it’s the first thing that came to my mind)

(ps y’all should also follow her as well she’s an amazing person)

masterlist

mat masterlist

warnings: mention of fights, SMUT (18+) (minors please don’t interact), fluff, little angst? (idk mat is a little upset so idk if that’d count as angst)

# of words: 1,941 (sorry it’s short i tried to make it somewhat longer but my brain decided to go into writer’s block so)

----

It was all going well, up until it wasn’t. You knew that playoff hockey got even more intense than the regular season and meant that more injuries were prone to happen. Mat told you the night the Islanders got clinched that he wouldn’t try to get into many fights anymore or get anymore penalty minutes seeing that he’s their star and that the top player shouldn’t have that many penalty minutes. He managed to not get into any fights or get any penalties the first 4 games. You would’ve gone to the game but you decided to stay at yours and Mat’s apartment to watch the game due to being busy earlier in the day and Mat was completely fine with however you wanted to watch the game. The only thing he did request before he left was that you wore one of his jerseys that he wasn’t going to be wearing for good luck. As soon as you came home from work it was the first thing you did and you sent a picture to him to show him. You knew he wouldn’t answer right away but you saw that he read it. 

The game was going smoothly up until the second period where the penguins were leading by 3. You knew that the team was frustrated by the way they looked as the camera panned over to the bench and that they were trying their hardest. Mat’s line was now playing and you felt as if they were going to score during that period. It wasn’t until moments after Anthony’s goal where a fight broke out and Mat got into the middle of it. You couldn’t tell what happened but you stood up on your feet and became really concerned. It wasn’t until you saw him walk towards the locker room with one of the medics before they showed the reply. The rest of the game you couldn’t focus on and only worried that something would happen even later into the game. Mat had said he was fine but you knew that he wasn’t from when they showed him. 

The only good thing to come out of the game was the double overtime win and you knew it was going to be a while before Mat got home. You hadn’t really had anything for dinner because of it and could only eat crackers because your mind was only worried for Mat and Mat only. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep seeing how late it was. Mat on the other hand was exhausted as well and it was just from playing almost 5 rounds of hockey. A sigh escaped his mouth when he reached the front door and took out his keys only to find you sleeping on the couch wearing his white jersey. He smiled at the site before dropping his bag and taking his shoes off before walking over to you and crouching down in front of you. Mat took a moment to analyze the details of your face before he started to caress your face and wake you up. Your eyes began to flutter open as you saw him crouched down to your height 

“Hey baby” he whispered as you sat up making room for him

“Hi maty, sorry you had to see me like this” you told as he sat down and pulled you into his chest

“It’s okay you deserve some rest.” he said trying to hide his eye

“Let me see, don’t hide it.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad”

“Why would I be mad?” you asked him confusion running across your face

“Because I promised to you that I wouldn't get into any fights or get any penalties during playoffs” he admitted

“I’m not mad, I was worried the entire time. It happens.” you affirmed him as you ran your fingers over the bruised eye lightly making sure that you didn’t hurt him. The two of you sat there in silence for a while taking in each other’s company before you both looked at each other and brought your lips together. You’ve been with Mat for over a year and a half and yet he still gave you butterflies every time you kissed. Straddling him, you continued to kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Everything in that moment just felt perfect. Mat pulled away and stood up, picked you up and took you to yours and his room. After laying you down on the bed, he began to slowly push up his jersey while pressing small kisses along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks, making you moan before pulling away to take the jersey off. His breath hitched when he saw the lingerie you had on underneath and smiled and you spoke up

“I was going to surprise you when you got home but i ended up falling asleep, so this isn’t exactly how I planned it” you told him sitting back up

“Well I’m still surprised don’t worry and you still look beautiful” he said before giving you another kiss and laying you back down after you took off his suit jacket, shirt and pants leaving him just in his underwear as you traced your fingers down his body

“I love you so much. Thank you for everything you do. From supporting me at home and away games to dealing with me and my antics” 

Mat unclipped you bra as he pressed light kisses over your collarbones as his hands roamed all over your body and stopping at your thighs, Pushing your legs apart, his fingers hooking onto your underwear before sliding them off and inserting two of them inside you. His eyes never left yours, curling his fingers more and while his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to moan

“Maty, please” you let out

“In all time princess. It’s all about patience” he whispered in your ear before removing his fingers as soon as he felt you clenching. 

Removing his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth and sucked off your juices and sank down to his knees and kissed the soft skin of your thighs, feeling scruff from his playoff beard he was finally allowed to grow out. He wasted no time when it came to eating you out as he sucked back on your clit. One of his favorite sounds was hearing your moans and whimpers, as a smirk plastered onto his face, gripping your thighs tighter. You became more and more frustrated as you tugged on his hair wanting more. Pulling him closer onto you,  his hands grabbed your breasts making you gasp and moan his name more. He began to slowly lick your clit before starting to suck on it. You can feel him slowly pull away before going back and inserting his finger again

“Oh god. Oh fuck. Mat that feels so good. Please don’t stop”

“What do you need princess?”

“You. I need you.”  

“Fuck, maty i’m so close please” you told him as you could feel him humming against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. The familiar feeling began to coil in your stomach as you tugged on his hair harder and him licking you as his name left your lips, almost to the point where the neighbors would probably hear.

When he pulled away, he pressed a kiss against your lips, making you taste yourself. Mat leaned over to grab a condom from the nightstand next to the bed as you began to palm him through his boxers before pulling it down. You helped him roll the condom on him as he then lined himself in between you and grabbing your legs to hook against him

“You ready?” he asked looking into your eyes, making sure you’re still comfortable

“Yes” you told him as you curled your fingers at the bottom of his hair as he pressed his lips against yours while pushing himself inside you, groaning into his mouth.

His hips rolled with every thrust he gave, his lips leaving yours and pressing kisses along your jaw as he whispered in your ear as the occasional moan left his lips when you marked up his back or tugged his hair more. His hands gripped around your waist as he 

“I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too”

“Are you close?” he whispered pulling away from your neck “Mhm” you nodded as a whine left your left as he thrusted harder, 

“It’s okay, let go” he whispered in your ear as the both of you let go of your highs. Mat came out of you and fell on the bed next to you. The two of you stayed quiet as you both breathed heavily trying to catch your breaths.

“Well that was-”

“Yeah” he finished as he took the condom off and threw it in the trashcan when got up and went to the bathroom

When Mat came back, he started to clean you up with the damp towel, making sure that you were alright and that he didn’t hurt you. He took his time making sure to stop as soon as you started to feel uncomfortable or started to wince. You kept trying to fight off the sleepiness that was taking over so you had a chance to talk to Mat about everything he wanted just so he can get his mind over it. Your eyes were starting to slowly close once again until you felt the bed dip and Mat’s arm pull you so your head was on his chest

“What’s going on through that mind of yours?” you asked him knowing that he was thinking about the game again

“Just the game, the fight, how much my eye hurts” he laughs off but you can tell he’s still somewhat upset causing you to get up and face him

“Mathew, you did your best, and you’ll keep doing your best. I know you know this but you go close to a goal each period and in overtime. Yes, it’s not going well, but you need to have some faith in you. There’s still some positives that happened, you assisted a couple of goals from Tito and Scott, plus the game winning goal. Those are still something-” you told him before he cut you off

“Yeah but they’re not a goal you know? Everyone, from commentators to interviewers have been on my ass about not scoring and it’s frustrating to listen to and when it happens it gets blocked” mat exclaimed, as he ran his hand through is hair trying not to show his frustration

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but that will happen and things will get better. Remember you were struggling towards the end of the regular season and then you got a goal straight out of the penalty box?”

“Yes but-”

“But nothing. You still have game 6 and I know that you guys will advance to the next round and you will get that goal that you want.” you finished as you now sit on his lap staring into his eyes and grabbing his hands

“Okay, mainly because I trust you and I love you.” he said as he gave you a small peck on the lips

“I love you”

“Now, do you still have enough energy for another round or are you tired?”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one who played 5 periods of hockey and got into a fight” you smirked as he flipped you onto your back

“Well then, you shouldn’t have said that missy” he whispered to you smirking as he went back down on you

[miekasa]

break up with your boyfriend, i’m bored

+ pairings: um… armin x reader…. but, spotlight on jean—just... read it to understand, please

+ genres and warnings: college au what’s new, fluff… you’re just going to have to work with me and trust me on this one alright

+ notes: free colt he ain’t do nothing wrong i just needed someone outside of their immediate friend group to blame i am so sorry justice for my boy colt and falco too

+ more notes: longer levi fic still in progress, so have jean thee comedian in the meantime

“I think I have a crush on someone.”

Jean crosses his arms and makes it a point to huff even louder than before so that you can accurately assess his annoyance at moment; going so far as to slump back into your not so comfortable couch to really sell it.

“And that is why you manhandled me all the way to your apartment on a Tuesday afternoon?” he asks, voice flat and eyes hooded.

You groan and roll your eyes. Jean’s eyebrows are pinched together with more judgement than confusion at your current state of distress when you sit next to him on the sofa, a knee bent in his direction.

“Jeanie, I don’t think you’re understanding the severity of my issue.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he drawls, “But, please, do enlighten me. It’s not like I have an essay to write or anything.”

“I have a crush,” you reiterate, hands mapping out every syllable in your sentence, “On someone who is not my boyfriend.”

“I see,” he nods, but his voice remains flat, “And, pray tell, what exactly is my role in all of this?”

“You’re supposed to use your philosophical psychoanalytical bullshit to tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.”

“Philosophy and psychology are two different disciplines.”

“They sound the same to me.”

“That’s because you’re a single-celled chem major.”

“I think it takes more than a single cell to study chem.”

“Oh, is that what they tell you guys, now?”

“You’re not fucking helping.”

“Yes, I am,” he tuts, “It’s called talk therapy.”

“It sounds like you’re just taking shots at me.”

“Best friend talk therapy allows for a few digs here and there.”

“Jean,” you pinch his arm. He flinches, and yelps loudly, immediately raising the affected arm to counter with a flick to the center of your forehead. You glare, the palm of your left hand covering the sting on your skin, but concede, “Well played.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I learned from the best.”

“Okay, now that you’ve gotten your ego boost for the day, can we worry about my problem, please.”

He shrugs, crossing resting his left ankle atop his right knee, “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“What exactly is the problem, again?”

You sigh, and lean your head on Jean’s shoulder, “I have a boyfriend—”

“We’ve been over that.”

“—and the person I have a crush on is not my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “Are you going to do anything about this crush?”

“Well, I… no,” you ponder, “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” he repeats, “So, then why are you so worked up about it?”

“Because!... Because… I don’t know, it’s… wrong? I’m in a relationship with someone else—isn’t this, like, emotional cheating?”

“Maybe,” he says, “I don’t know a whole lot about relationship psychology.”

“Come on, Jean.”

He sighs, “I’m serious, I don’t know, (_____).”

You whine, sounds muffled by the fabric of Jean’s sweater where your cheek lay pressed against his shoulder. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

“You’re not, stop it,” Jean answers firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “You’re not horrible for having emotions that are difficult to work through.”

“Okay, then, I’m just a horrible girlfriend.”

“Maybe.”

“Jean.”

“Sorry,” he winces, patting your head for extra encouragement. It’s meant to be comforting, but it makes you feel like a patronized six-year-old, at best. It’s quiet for a while, with you mulling over Jean’s words, and him trying to pull you into the worst side hug in all of existence.

“Do you think,” you break the silence, “Maybe I should I break up with him?”

“Yes,” his answer comes too quickly, and much too enthusiastically.

You lift your head from his shoulder, unamused, but Jean doesn’t even try to hide the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”

“No,” he pauses when he catches glimpse of the disbelief on your face, “Okay, yes, I don’t like him. At all.”

“Jean—”

“But maybe this is your subconscious telling you that you don’t like him either, and that you should, instead, go after your crush.”

“Oh, so now you want to use your psychobullshit on me?”

“If it means I don’t have to pretend to like Colt anymore, then yes,” he replies, a stupid, shit-eating grin on his lips.

You scoff, arms crossed against your chest, “You don’t even pretend to like him now.”

Jean shrugs, “I pretend to like him to his face.”

“No, you don’t,” you insist, “You’re probably the worst at it, in fact.”

“I’m not worse than Connie.”

“You called him an asshole. To his face.”

“Connie poured tequila on him.”

“Connie was drunk. You were completely sober.”

“Connie would have done it sober and you know it.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but the words fall silent in your throat. Connie probably would have done it sober. “Okay, fine, whatever, you don’t like him,” you wave away the subject, “Do you really think this crush is my subconscious telling me to break up with him, though? I mean—it’s just, crushes are kind of fleeting right?”

“Sure, but—”

“What if I break up with him, and then I get over my crush, and realize I made a mistake.”

“Then you learn and grow, and find a new crush.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he insists, “You’re beating yourself up pretty bad over this mystery guy—”

“—It could be a girl.”

“Is it a girl? Oh, is it Mikasa? Are you still hung up over her—you know I’m sure she’d make out with you asked. I think you both could relieve a lot of tension that way, actually.”

“You’re the worst person to walk this planet, you know that?” you sneer, annoyed by the smug grin on Jean’s face. So what if you had a tiny crush on Mikasa? Most people did, Jean included.

“Look,” Jean continues, “You and I both know you’re not a cheater, but you and I also know you’re just like Eren when it comes to things like this.”

“Just like Eren?”

“Falls too fast, too hard,” he clarifies, “I get the feeling you’ve had these feelings for a while, and that they’re not fleeting.”

You pout, and Jean knows that he’s right. “Okay, so say I do break up with Colt—”

“Which you should do, regardless.”

“—If we break up, then what? I still won’t know what to do with my left over grief. It’s not like I can just... go ask this guy out right away.”

“Yes, you can,” Jean presses, “In fact, you should.”

“No, I can’t,” you insist.

“Why not?”

“Well for one, I’ll look like a heartless whore.”

“You’re not a heartless whore for asking a guy out.”

“I am if I do it right after breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“Your internalized misogyny is showing,” he sing-songs, “Come on, you’re not a whore for doing what you want with a guy, you know that.”

“Okay, fine, not a whore, whatever,” you roll your eyes, “But I still couldn’t ask him out.”

“It’s the twenty first century, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t ask him—”

“Not because of that, dumb goose,” you glare, “I meant because—it’s, well, it’d be really sudden and kind of… awkward?”

“It’s not like he’d know you just broke up with someone, unless that’s one of your conversation starters.”

You sigh, a hand on your forehead. “Yes, he would, Jean.”

“How could he possibly—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mock, a heavy sigh leaving your chest as you resume your previous sulking position, head leaning against his shoulder with your right cheek squished against his sweater.

“(_____), I’m honored, but you’re not really my type. I’d be willing to help you get over him though.”

“It’s not you, you fucking long-necked pigeon, it’s Arm—,” you cut yourself short, hands clamped over your own mouth.

“Oh my god!” Jean all but screams, propelling his body away from you with just enough distance to extend his arm, finger pointing directly at your chest, “You like Armin!”

“Shut up!”

“You have a crush on Armin!”

“Shut up, Jean!”

“You have a big, fat crush on Armin!”

“Shut up! I said shut up, you pasty fucking giraffe looking ass bitch!”

“Oh my—okay, you have to break up with Colt, immediately,” Jean rushes, “I can’t believe this—if you think Armin wouldn’t go out with you, then you really do have the intelligence of a single celled organism.”

“What in the ever loving fuck are you talking about.”

“We’re talking about the same Armin, right? Armin Arlert, about this tall,” Jean raises his hand significantly lower than Armin’s actual height, “Studies astrophysics, follows you around like a lap dog—”

“He does not,” you scoff.

Jean guffaws, “Didn’t he take you on a tour of, like… the NASA museum for your birthday? With the super high-tech planetarium that people die to get into?”  

“Actually, it was their headquarters, but it’s only because he gets special privileges for being an intern.”

“Didn’t he name a star after you?”

“Anyone can name a star after anyone,” you roll your eyes, “It’s really not that hard.”

“People do not fucking go to NASA and ask for stars for just anyone!” Jean screeches, hands flailing wildly.

“Armin does!”

“Yeah, for you!” Jean emphasizes, “Come on, do you think if anybody else called him right now and asked him to get a star in their name, or even just fucking take them to headquarters of the most renowned space organization in the country, that he would actually do it?”

“I mean, maybe, if like… Eren asked.”

Jean opens his mouth to refute, but freezes half way with a head-tilt and pursed lips. “Okay, yeah, maybe—whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to tell him.”

“I don’t need to tell him shit.”

“You’re seriously choosing Colt over Armin? Who willingly stays with some greasy prick with the world’s most annoying younger brother, over a handsome, straight-A astrophysics student with a penchant for marine biology, and, like, really clear skin.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know Bertholdt was studying astro.”

“I wasn’t talking about Bertholdt.”

“It sounded like you were talking about Bertholdt.”

“I mean, Bertholdt’s got great skin, but it’s no where near as clear as Armin’s. He glows.”

It’s quiet again, as you eye Jean with a raised brow that’s all too familiar. “Are we sure that you’re not the one with the crush on Armin?”

“Shut up, you’re avoiding the point.”

“What’s the point, exactly?”

“That you’re in love with Armin, who is miles better than your current boy toy, so you should ask him out immediately.”

“I have a boyfriend, not a boy toy.”

“Ah ha!” he yells, “You didn’t deny that you’re in love with him—oh my god, you’re in love with Armin!”

He’s standing now, practically bouncing off the the walls at the revelation. You take to smacking him with the nearest pillow. “I’m not in love with him! I just—just really like him, okay!”

“Very convincing.”

“Shut the hell up, you’ve been pining after you know who for seven eons at this point.”

“You bitch,” he growls, “We’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“Well, you keep bringing up Armin!”

“We never established that Armin was on the list of he’s who shall not be named.”

“Well I vote that he should be.”

“Your vote has been vetoed,” he grins, “Look, I’m completely serious when I say that Armin is just as in love with you as you deny you are with him.”

“That sentence hurt my head,” you pout, resuming your signature brooding position.

“It’s okay, your single brain cell has been through a lot in the past fifteen minutes,” he pats your head again, earning him a glare that he simply chuckles at, “All it means is that you love Armin, and I assure you that he’s equally, if not more, in love with you.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Now, up, up, up,” he tuts, pulling at your biceps until you’re standing, only to immediately start ushering you to the door, “You have a shitty boyfriend to go break up with.”

“What—Jean, come on, I didn’t mean right now!” you exclaim; but he’s stronger than he looks, and continues to propel your body out of the open door.

“No time to waste!” he insists, “Every hour you stay with Colt you lose another brain cell.”

“I thought I only had one to begin with,” you say, sarcasm evident in your tone.

It makes Jean’s grin triple, “Exactly, so go, not another hour to waste!”

“Jean, wait, I—,” you begin, only to be silenced by the silver door shutting in your face. The lock clicks soon after, and it’s only then you realized what he’s done.

“You knobby kneed bitch, this is my apartment!”

[myriadimagines]

Chips and Orange Soda

Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Jake Peralta

Other Characters: Raymond Holt, Rosa Diaz

Warnings: theft

Summary: When a series of bodegas are robbed, Holt assigns Jake and Rosa on the case. You, a cashier, become a suspect, but Jake has a gut feeling that you’re not a suspect at all. In fact, he thinks you’re the key to solving the case. 

Part Two: Chips and Orange Soda (part ii)

Word Count: 2,697

A/N: my submission for @locke-writes​​‘ writing challenge! i know everyone wanted me to post the whole fic at once but then it ended up being 5k+ words i made the executive decision that it was probably best for everyones sanity to split it up into 2 parts. think of it as a commercial break in the episode <3 i’m gonna disclaimer this by saying that i’m not a cop or in law enforcement. idk how this shit works. i tried my best but this isn’t legally accurate. anyway! based on the prompt: “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.” 

reblog/feedback/comments are very much appreciated!!!

“Not late! I’m not late!” Jake announces, rushing into the briefing room with his bag still slung over his shoulder. He ignores the eye rolls from Amy and Terry, and plops down in the seat Charles has saved for him. He leans back, dumping his bag on the floor as he tries to catch his breath, before noticing Holt’s disapproving stare. “I’m not! Look, I’m right on time!”

Jake points over at the clock hanging on the wall, and Holt glances over his shoulder before turning back to Jake. “You’re fifteen minutes late, Peralta. That clock broke down two days ago.”

Jake takes a proper look at the clock, which, sure enough, is frozen at three minutes past two o’clock. 

“Okay, well…” Jake cringes. “I had a flat tire?” 

“As I was saying,” Holt ignores Jake’s excuse, reorganizing the case files on the podium as the squad quickly focuses. Pulling up a few pictures on the television, Holt curtly explains, “Two bodegas were robbed last night, and we suspect it may be the same person, or group or people, who robbed the three bodegas last week. Thankfully, no one was injured, but we need to crack down on this case before it happens again.” 

The squad nods in agreement, and Amy taps her pen against the desk as she takes notes. Gesturing towards Rosa, Holt asks, “Diaz, you were investigating last week’s robberies. Where are you in solving the case?”

“Nowhere, sir.” Rosa begrudgingly admits, folding her arms across her chest as she shakes her head. “Forensics dusted the place for prints but found nothing, and the security footage was crap. Couldn’t pull any good images because it was so old. All I know is that it looks like at least two individuals are involved.” 

Holt slowly nods, pressing his lips together as he deliberates this. Pointing at Jake, he orders, “Conduct some interviews around the block, see if anyone saw anything. Perhaps you’ll have more luck this time. And take Peralta with you, you’ll be able to cover more ground. Everyone, you’re dismissed.” 

Jake looks over his shoulder to exchange a nod with Rosa before everyone gets to their feet. Holt closes up his file, and quickly stops Jake before he can leave the room, “Oh, and Jake?”

Jake pauses in the doorway. “Yes, sir?” 

“While you’re out, you can get some new batteries for the clock.” Holt points back at the defunct clock. Raising an eyebrow, Holt continues, “So next time, you can actually take a look at how late you are.” 

Beside him, Amy can’t help but snort at Jake’s expense, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

—

Jake jogs over to the bodega, a cup of coffee in hand from the nearby food cart. He ducks under the police tape bordering the store, and he gingerly steps around the shattered glass scattered on the pavement. He can already see Rosa inside, taking off her sunglasses and hooking them on the collar of her shirt, and he can see that the forensics team have already marked up the scene. Rosa looks up as Jake approaches, and she informs him, “This one’s different from the others; they actually broke in instead of picking the lock. Otherwise, they took all the cash, and it doesn’t look like anything from the inventory was taken.” 

“Which is kinda weird, considering this place has pretty cool chip flavors and orange soda.” Jake points to a nearby shelf, and Rosa shoots him a look. Shrugging, Jake looks at the rest of the shelves and the fridge as he mumbles to himself, “I’m just saying.” 

“Security footage from this whole week is missing too.” Rosa continues. She groans, shaking her head as she takes another glance around the scene. “I don’t know how we’re going to get anywhere with this.”

The two of them make their way back outside, where a small crowd is now lingering outside the store, curiously trying to peek inside as the cops try to corral everyone. Pointing at them, Rosa suggests, “Maybe we can find a witness.” 

Jake follows her gaze, quickly sweeping over the individuals before his gaze lands on you. Your eyes momentarily meet, but you quickly look away and turn your attention back to the smashed glass. You’re cute, Jake thinks to himself with a grin, all bundled up in a denim jacket that, and when you turn to look at something over your shoulder, he can’t help but notice has a cool design of some planets stitched on the back. Rolling back his shoulders, Jake holds out his cup of coffee, and he says, “Allow me to handle this, Rosa,” 

Rosa rolls her eyes at the annoyingly confident tone Jake quickly adopts, and pointedly refuses to hold Jake’s coffee for him.

“Alright then,” Jake awkwardly takes his coffee back, and he gulps down the rest, fanning his tongue as it burns his mouth. Tossing it aside into a nearby trash can, Jake quickly composes himself, readjusting his jacket before approaching you. He offers you his hand, and you hesitate before shaking it, and Jake introduces, “Hey, I’m Detective Peralta. Cool jacket, by the way.”

“y/n.” you introduce yourself with a small smile, shaking his hand before you pull away to self consciously tug at the sleeves of your jacket. “And thanks. My friend made it for me as a birthday gift.”

“Nice,” Jake grins at you, before gesturing over his shoulder. “You come here often? It’s a pretty awesome bodega.”

“Uh, well, I work here.” you slowly respond, and you can see something in Jake’s expression falter as his cheeks get red. You bite back a smile as you continue, “So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

“Cool, cool, cool, cool,” Jake nods, fumbling to come up with a response. His palms suddenly feel sweaty, and he scrambles to think of his next question. 

“I’ll let our owner know, by the way.” you pipe up, and Jake blinks at you. Nervously chuckling, you add, “That you think the bodega is awesome. He’ll appreciate it.” 

“Oh!” Jake laughs, and you can’t help but smile. Gesturing to the store, Jake continues, “I’ve gotta say, your snack selection is the best I’ve ever seen. I mean, you’ve got every flavor of everything in there! Also, any place that carries orange soda is automatically awesome in my book.” 

“Well of course,” you respond with a smile. “It’s the best flavor!” 

“Right?!” Jake perks up, and the both of you dissolve into laughter before Jake looks over his shoulder and notices Rosa glaring at him. Quickly clamming up, Jake attempts to focus himself, and his eyes widen as he remembers the fact that you work here. “Are you the cashier or something?”

“Yep.” you nod, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “I just worked yesterday, too. I can’t believe someone robbed it last night.” 

“What time were you here until?” Jake asks. 

“The shop closes around midnight, and I was the one who locked up.” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Jake can’t help but notice as you momentarily break his gaze, and you glance at the store before back at him. “Usually our owner, Gabriel, closes up, but he’s been sick this past week, so I’ve been helping out.”

“Got it,” Jake nods, mentally taking note of all this information. The both of you look up as Rosa joins in on the conversation, and Jake continues, “And I’m assuming you didn’t see any sign of suspicious activity before you left?”

You shake your head, uneasily glancing over at Rosa as she looks at you. “Sorry, Detective.” 

“No, you’ve actually been super helpful.” Jake reassures you, and he offers you a friendly smile that puts you at ease. You relax, and Jake continues, “It helps us roughly estimate when the crime took place. Do you know anything about your security footage, by the way? This is my partner, Detective Diaz, and she noticed the footage was somehow erased.” 

Something in your expression shifts, and Jake can’t quite read the look on your face. Rosa narrows her eyes at you, and after a pause, you respond, “I think our cameras have been down.” 

Jake and Rosa exchange an uncertain glance, and you can feel your stomach twisting into knots as you know they don’t look convinced. The atmosphere becomes intense, especially as you feel yourself under Rosa’s stern gaze, and Jake quickly tries to lighten the mood as he tells you, “I think that’s it. Thanks for answering our questions, y/n.”

You nod, and Jake’s eyebrows furrow as your gaze lingers on him, your lips moving as if you want to tell him more. But you stop yourself, taking in a deep breath, before responding, “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” 

You turn on your heel, and Jake watches as you head down the block. He looks over to see Rosa studying you, before she shakes her head. “I don’t like it, Jake. They seemed suspicious to me.”

“They were just nervous.” Jake finds himself defending you. “And probably a little frazzled, too. They were the last one in the shop, if they had stayed any longer, they could’ve been in danger.” 

“Or they could have something to do with the crime.” Rosa counteracts, and Jake lets out a sigh. Leaning towards him, Rosa continues, “I know we don’t have solid evidence, but I just have a feeling something’s up, Jake. Plus, it doesn’t help that you were flirting.” 

Jake gapes at her. “I was not flirting!” 

“Look, we need to solve this before Holt gets on my case about it.” Rosa insists. Jake lets out a sigh, before glancing down the direction you walked, and he can just barely see your figure heading into the subway station. 

“I’ll be right back.” Jake tells her, and before Rosa can stop him, he jogs after you. By the time he’s entered the station, he’s terribly out of breath, and he manages to catch you before you enter through the turnstile. “y/n!”

You look up upon hearing your name and you pause as Jake stops in front of you. He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and you patiently wait for him. Through heavy breaths, Jake manages to puff out, “Yeah, sorry, super unfit. The chips and the orange soda clearly don’t help.” 

Jake tries his best not to cringe at what he feels like is the lamest joke he’s ever made, but to his surprise, you laugh. A genuine laugh, not a cruel, teasing one, but one with a wide smile that makes Jake feel like he’s on top of the world. Tilting your head, you manage to say in between chuckles, “You’re pretty funny, Detective.” 

“Call me Jake.” Jake insists, finally regaining his breath, and you grin at him. “Hey, any chance I could get your number? For professional reasons of course, in case we need to contact you again. Or I could just give you my number if you feel better doing it that way.”

You seem hesitant, but you nod. He fumbles through his pocket, pulling out an old receipt and a pen that barely has enough ink in it, and you scribble out your number before handing it back to him, “I work every day but Tuesdays, too, so you’ll be able to catch me at work if you need me.” 

“Got it.” Jake nods, tucking the receipt into his pocket. “Thanks for your help, y/n.”

The expression that Jake can’t decipher crosses your face again, a look of pensiveness, of hesitation. But you shake it off, quickly plastering on a smile, and you nod, “Have a good day, Jake. And… good luck.” 

—

Jake and Rosa sit in the break room, a laptop open between them as they flip through countless CCTV videos from the blocks nearby the bodega. Rosa becomes increasingly aggressive with the keyboard with each video she clicks through, and Jake impatiently shakes his head. He groans, rubbing his fingers up against his temple as he complains, “This is killing me. If I have to look at one more minute of another grainy video, I’m going to lose it.”

Rosa rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she folds her arms across her chest. She kicks Jake’s chair with her boot, and she points out, “This is all we have, Jake.”

Jake sighs, but nods. Rosa had interviewed some people in the neighboring apartments, some of which reported hearing smashed glass around three in the morning, but hadn’t called it in on the assumption it was a clumsy accident from a downstairs neighbor. It at least gave them a time of the crime, but as Rosa unfortunately pointed out, it didn’t give them much else. The CCTV didn’t seem to pick up on anything interesting, no speeding cars, and a brief moment of footage that might’ve captured the suspects only showed their retreating backs. The forensics team had also swept over all the evidence from the bodega, but had yet to find anything incriminating, not even a single fingerprint which could help lead the investigation somewhere. 

“These guys clearly know what they were doing.” Rosa grumbles, jabbing her finger into the screen. “They know to avoid all the camera spots.” 

“I hate smart criminals. Why can’t they all be dumb and just make it easier for us?” Jake whines, and Rosa rolls her eyes. 

“Have you talked to y/n lately?” Rosa asks, and Jake shakes his head, hoping Rosa doesn’t notice the faint blush that lights up his cheeks at the mere mention of your name.

“No, Rosa, who do you think I am? That’s way too forward.” Jake scoffs, before his expression turns serious. It’s been a little over a week since your interaction, and he looks at Rosa before continuing, “Unless you don’t think it’s too forward. Should I text them?”

Rosa resists the urge to punch Jake’s arm, and she deadpans, “Talked to them about the case, Jake, not for a date.” 

“Right.” Jake nods, clearly flustered, and Rosa rolls her eyes again. Wiping his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, Jake corrects himself, “No, I haven’t talked to y/n.”

Rosa leans her elbows forward on the desk. “I think we should call them in again. You know, see if there’s anything we can get out of them. Kind it seems like they’re the only lead we have.”

“You don’t still suspect them, do you?” Jake asks, eyebrows furrowing, and he lets out a sigh as Rosa shrugs. Shaking his head, Jake insists, “I really don’t think it’s them, Rosa.” 

“Jake…” Rosa starts, shooting him a look, and Jake quickly waves his hand, brushing her off as he already knows what’s coming next. 

“Alright, I’ll reach out to them, see if there’s anything more they can tell us.” Jake reluctantly says, and Rosa nods. Pointing back at the computer, Jake asks, “Does this mean I can stop watching these boring videos?”

“Fine.” Rosa grumbles, angling the laptop towards herself as Jake grins. He grabs his jacket hanging off the back of his chair, and he sneaks one last glance at the grainy video before darting out the room. He pauses, his eyes narrowing, and he points at the screen. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jake points at the corner of the video, where a figure rushes down the street. Rosa squints, and she pauses the video for Jake to get a better look. His eyes widen, and his expression pales slightly, and he asks, “What time was this footage from?”

“Five in the morning.” Rosa replies, checking the timestamp. Looking up at Jake, she asks, “Why? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Jake hurriedly remarks, and Rosa frowns. Before she can demand an answer from Jake, he’s already rushed out of the break room, swiftly exiting the bullpen as he dodges Terry on his way out.

It’s not nothing, but Jake knows he can’t tell Rosa that. Not when the figure in the video was wearing a distinctive denim jacket with planets stitched on the back.

tag list: @myfriendmagislit​​ / @thedamagedcne / @real-fbi​​ / @writinqss​​ / @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @dontjudgemepeepswrites​​ / @hauntedpocdreamer / @locke-writes​​ / @lgbtonystarks​​ / @fangirlsarah16​​ / @kittensanddarkclouds​​ / @randomfandomimagine​​ / @ofthedewthesunlight​​ / @bravelittlesunflower​​

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter 3)

A/n I CANNOT believe how many people have supported this story,, I’m so excited to continue it with you guys :)) 

Just a reminder that while this is based off the show i hope to blend in some book aspects/vibes and this is just a fanfic and it won’t be completely accurate/follow the show 100% and any changes I make/parts I chose not to focus on are for the sake of the story I’m trying to tell 

-- 

I can’t tell if I wish Kaz had let me go with Inej or not. She’s faster than I am, and considering that I have no real reason to be loyal to them, I’m a flight risk. That means I’m stuck here with only the Kaz Brekker and Jesper, who I tricked. I hadn’t exactly befriended Inej entirely in the few minutes I was alone with her, but she seemed more trustworthy than them. More susceptible to reason. And when she heard where I was from, who was responsible for raising me, something in the way she watched me changed. It was the oddest combination--a look of both tired sympathy and cautious admiration.

“What I don’t understand…” Jesper breaks the silence. “Is why you all go back there. He lets you leave, he gives you money--there’s no reason to return.” 

I try not to let the question anger me. I shift awkwardly, scratching at my palm. “We tried leaving.” My stomach knots. “Once.” How do I make them understand? “He caught us because we young and stupid, and then he…” I exhale slowly. They’re just words. They don’t change anything. Whether I speak them or not, the events of my history aren’t different. “He picked the youngest, a girl only six months younger than me, and he slit her throat from ear to ear and took a finger of anyone that flinched as her blood splattered onto them. He said her blood was our penance and to live with knowing what we did to her would be our punishment.” 

I don’t tell them that I was twelve. I don’t tell them Anya lied about my birthday on the records. I don’t tell them I’m missing the very tip of my pinky--a small punishment for the twitch of my lip. “When Kenya is truly angry, he never hurts you--he hurts those around you.” No one responds to that. They’re making me seem like such a bummer. “It’s not awful all the time...he borders on agreeable when you listen to him.” 

Most days we have peace, left to our own devices as long as we accomplish certain goals. Their silence does little to unnerve me. After speaking so freely of such a nightmare, the desire to be rid of the taste of those words from my mouth is almost overwhelming, but I hold to the silence. 

“Why has he never sold you to the grisha that are so desperate for you?”

Of course Kaz Brekker would ask a question like that. “He isn’t the business of money, he’s in the business of creating gods. He indentures people he thinks could one day become saints or something else entirely. He wants to be owed by the heavens.” 

I watch Kaz carefully, a part of me curious about how someone like him could react to a goal like that. I can see him understanding the ambition of it all, but I can’t imagine himself a person of faith. Perhaps he’ll think it a clever trick. Perhaps he’ll even agree with Kenya.

He nods once; something I get nothing from. 

Whatever. He can be coy and distant this entire time. They all can. I’ll be out of here soon enough, and I’ll find Anya. And if I can stop something bad from happening to Alina then that’s a bonus I’m willing to take risks for. 

“That man is awful.” 

Inej’s voice comes from right behind me. I snap my head around. “You’re in here.” 

She nods once, oblivious to how shocking her sudden appearance is. She hands me a knapsack casually, staring at Kaz. “What’s the plan? We have six hours.” 

I look around the room, only seeing one closed window and one closed door. “There’s one door in this room.” 

“We take the Inferni to the ship.” He doesn’t even bother looking in my direction. 

Okay, they can be mean to be all they want but they can’t ignore me. I don’t think I’ve ever been ignored in my entire life. Gods in the making get attention. It may be the cruel attention of fate, but it’s something. 

“Did she come in through the window?” 

Again, I am ignored. 

“And then what, boss?” Jesper casually crosses the room, sitting down next to me on the small couch. It’s like I’m not even here. “We’d need to break into the Little Palace to get Alina.” 

What? “You guys are going to--” No. No. I am not kidnapping Alina. And there’s no way she’d be in the Little Palace. “First off--if you want to kidnap Alina Starkov for whatever insane ploy you’re all playing at, you’d never find her at Little Palace. She’s not a Grisha and second--” I cut myself off, standing from my seat. “Why am I even telling you this? I shouldn’t be helping you kidnap her.” 

Kaz’s eyes dart to me boredly. At least it’s some kind of acknowledgement of my existence. “I thought you two weren’t close.” 

I seriously consider scorching him. Just a little. Not even enough to scar him, just enough to get him to shut up. “She’s still a person who has a right to her body and what happens to it.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but if we pull this off we get one million kruge.” 

What does he think I’m going to say? ‘Okay, well as long as you’re doing it for a good reason.’ Is that the response he expects. “Okay, well that makes it fair.” 

His eyes narrow skeptically, but Jesper is the one to ask, “Really?” 

“No,” I scoff, slumping back into my seat, “I was being sarcastic.” 

I drop my head back, neck craning over the back of the small couch. It isn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it makes it easier to ignore them. I’ve kept worse company for less. There’s an odd silence for a long second. I look forward without moving, I see Kaz vaguely gesture in Inej’s direction.

“Y/n,” Inej’s voice is refreshingly measured, “I think after the kinds of things we’ve gone through we understand that there’s some relativity in morality.” 

I shift my head to the right so I can look at her. “...Yes, but you’re just forcing another girl into a similar situation.” Why is Alina even worth so much? “And why would anyone pay so much for Alina?” 

Inej hesitates, glancing at Kaz and then back at me. “She’s a Sun Summoner.” 

On instinct, I straighten entirely, my body rigid. They’re insane. “You all are cracked if you think Alina’s a Sun Summoner.” No. No. It couldn’t be her. “Bless your hearts, seriously, she’s--she was trained to be a map maker--she’s not…” None of them relax, none of them shift in any way. What good would lying about this bring them? They have no reason to lie about this. “Saints, I should have had more to drink while downstairs.” 

So what if she’s a Sun Summoner? She didn’t ask to be one. She doesn’t deserve this. I cross my arms. “It doesn’t make this okay.” 

“And would it make it okay if you were getting a cut of the profit?” What? 

Kaz is looking at me in that tactful way. It takes all of my focus to not let myself become unnerved. “What?” 

“If I offered you a cut, would you be able to push aside more protests in order to make working with you easier?” 

Could I do it? Could I betray Alina? I drop my gaze away from his, opting to focus on the forgotten lantern on the coffee table in front of me. It flickers to life with no conscious prompting on my part. The flame is low and blue. Still though, Kaz notices it. What doesn’t he notice? 

“I can help you do what I agreed to.” I swallow around a lump in my throat, “But I cannot help you kidnap Alina.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs downwards. “We’re just going to get her to work with us.” 

“Work with you?” 

“We never said anything about taking her, and if Alina is really your friend you should know that the entire world is after her. Better us who can get her out of an unwanted situation quickly than the brutal General Kirigan who will hold her hostage until she does what he wants.” 

...I guess he has a point. “Oh.” I’m not naive enough to think that their methods will revolve around making Alina comfortable, but perhaps it’s not as dark as I assumed. “Maybe I was a little quick to assume…” I trail off awkwardly, looking at Inej for some type of reassurance. She avoids my gaze. 

I scratch the back of my arm, feeling like a spiraling child. I pick up my knapsack and place it on my lap, fiddling with the strap. 

“Come on,” Kaz stands, adjusting his grip on his cane, “We only have until sunrise.” 

As I stand, I pull down the skirt of my dress, suddenly aware of how inappropriate my clothing is for this late in the night. “Can--can I change first?” 

It’s a sheepish question, leaving me feeling like a child. 

“Five minutes,” Kaz offers, stepping out of the room with the rest of them. 

Inej leaves last, feet more silent than a cat. She offers me the tiniest hint of a smile. Despite my reservations, I beam at her. Something about me finds her politeness endearing despite it all. I think she closes the door loudly on purpose, to assure me of privacy. 

Normally changing in a building so full of drunk men would leave me nervous, but knowing Inej is outside leaves me feeling safe. I may not trust her with my life but something about her being tells me she values personal autonomy enough to protect it. 

I sift through the belongings Inej brought me. Clean underwear I try not think of her searching for, a thin white dress, comfortable pants, shorts, a few casual shirts, my red hood, and a nightgown. When I get to the bottom of the bag, and I see the personal belongings Inej smuggled back for me, I’m moved so powerfully my hand flies to my mouth on instinct. She had brought the folded up piece of paper with the only information I’ve been able to find about Kamil, the book I left on my nightstand, the small candle holder Alina had given me the day before I was taken away, the blade Mal had given me the day I left, the deck of playing cards Anya had first taught me to play with, and my mother’s necklace. The silver north star on a long chain. 

Before I can become too emotional, I take off the Crow’s Club T-shirt Inej had given me when I looked cold. I change into black pants, tucking the small blade Mal had given me into the pocket. The shirt I put on is pale blue, breaking the dark theme of everything around me. I fasten my red hood over my shoulders, basking in the familiar fabric. Lastly, I pull the north star necklace over my head, watching the blue orb with a black dot at its center blink at me in the light. I always found the stone at the pendant’s center odd. I'm quick to walk towards the door, nervous about what wasting their time could mean. 

“Let’s do this,” I sigh, pushing open the door. 

They all pause. Or maybe they were never moving. I try to imagine them interacting normally, but it’s hard to picture them as anything but intense and unflinching. There’s something odd about them, though, Jesper practically sulking and Kaz dropping his head despite Inej’s harsh stare.

“What kind of stone is in your necklace?” 

I swear to the Saints that if Kaz Brekker tries to steal it I’ll melt those leather gloves into his hands. “Try to take it and--” 

“That’s what I get for trying to make ‘polite conversation.’” He throws a look at Inej as he speaks the last two words. 

Wait--did Inej tell him to try to make polite conversation? Wait--more importantly, did he just kind of, almost say something that borders on casual? 

Wrinkling my nose, I let out a slight sigh. “Sorry.” 

His eyebrows draw together quizzically. “Did you just apologize for assuming I’d steal from you?” 

Great. Now I’m fully embarrassed. “Can we just go?” 

“Not before meeting me, I hope.” The stranger’s voice means nothing to me, but the others tense at it immediately. What? The man continues to walk forward, his steps too casual and confident for me to trust. The stranger is quick to respond to the question on my face, “Pekka Rollins.” 

--

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black @fandomstuffff @boxofteenageideas @losers-club6 @cityofstaars @stillreadingfantasy @slatersbrekker  @xoxo-aclown @alzawas-plug @nuwanda-greaser @swearingsolemnly @-thatgirloverthere-

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7

[measurelessdreamer]

Message in a Bottle ch. 1

My first attempt at writing obikin and I’m beyond nervous! Read the first chapter here or down below.

Summary: Anakin and Obi-Wan had been childhood friends until Obi-Wan changed high school and moved back to Britain, their friendship slowly dying from the distance that was just too vast, and neglect that came naturally when you had still so much to grow into, so much to be. Anakin stayed in the States, finished high school, went to college, suffered great loss, dropped out of college before earning his degree, and found himself working at the local zoo, all the while maintaining his feelings for his childhood best friend a secret and safely in his heart. He thought he'd eventually be over it, it wasn't like they were likely to meet again after all, but they stayed with him. And one day, he was proven wrong.

OR obikin + zookeeper!Anakin (and I have no excuse)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Childhood friends, Light Angst, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Slow Burn, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining

Word count: 5963

A/N:  Hey, everyone! This is my first work in the Star Wars fandom so I apologize if the characters don't feel quite right. I'm still making my way through Clone Wars and I have no self-restraint which is why this fic features five characters from there anyway, but hopefully, the fact this is a modern au will make those shortcomings a bit easier to bear. Please keep in mind that this fic features NO accurate depictions of zoos, zookeeping, or college life in the US whatsoever lol (seriously). I just wrote this because I was getting profusely fed up with my college and this was my escape. Just so you know, Anakin and Obi-Wan are both 25 years old. They met when they were 5 and got separated when they were 15 (10 years together + 10 years apart = balance to the Force ha!). This fic is not finished yet but hopefully, it will be. It's named after the song by Taylor Swift of the same name. All mistakes are mine. English is not my first language. I don't know if anyone is going to read this, but if yes, then I hope you enjoy it!

*

And I became hypnotized By freckles and bright eyes Tongue-tied

-Message in a Bottle, Taylor Swift-

Anakin wasn't in a good place after his mother died. It had been sudden and left him with no chance of ever preparing for it. That was how it usually went with car crashes and the most frustrating thing was that he had no one to really blame for it. No drunk driver or a beginner who had made a stupid mistake that had cost them another life, not even any wild animal that happened to be crossing the road at the time. It was just bad luck that it had been pouring that night with almost no visibility and his mom needed to go home from the town he'd moved into a few years ago because of college. She only came for this one day because it was his birthday, waving him off that a few hours of driving were nothing when it meant she would finally see him face to face after months. It wasn't in his heart to tell her no when he, too, desperately wished to hold her and be held in return. He couldn't ask her to stay either for he knew that she had to get back to work the next day. Maybe if there had been an indication the weather would worsen to such an extent or the forecast had mentioned it would be so dangerous to drive that night, he would stay his ground and make her stay even if it meant he had to go back to his hometown with her just to tell her boss to shove it the next time he even thought about being so hard on her. But no such thing happened. They hugged, and she kissed his cheek, doing the obnoxiously loud sound he'd remembered her doing ever since he'd been a little boy. He promised to call more, she rolled her eyes at him and told him she'd hold him to that and that was that. The last time he'd ever seen her.

The following weeks had been really hard for him. Saying it had shaken his world to its very core would be an understatement of the century. He was raging one moment, crying his heart out the second, all the while finding it very hard to keep his breathing even. Sorting out the funeral and their house somehow made it easier because, at the very least, he had something to do aside from crying on the floor in the corner of his bedroom and hating the world with all the sheer force of his being. But then all of that passed and he was expected to go back to his life like nothing had happened and everything was fine. Finish college, find a job, fall in love with someone his mom would never get to know, and make sure was worthy of her son. Yeah, not fucking likely.

So it took no time for him to drop out. There was no inner discussion or his brain just trying to reason with him to make sure this was really what he wanted that proceeded it. He just did it because Anakin had no clue what he actually wanted. It felt like he'd never had any, to begin with, and losing his mom just exacerbated his precarious feelings about where he stood and where his life was headed. It felt strangely liberating to walk out of the building of his college for the very last time even though he knew his problems were just about to start. He needed a new place to live, and he needed to find a job. As much as nothing felt better to him than running for the hills and trying his luck in getting around and just surviving from town to town, state to state, he figured taking one radical step at a time was a far better and healthier approach in the long run. It had taken both Ahsoka and Padmé approximately one hour of life to make him see that, but he eventually did see it and decided to take them up on the offer of making his life here despite the fact it sometimes felt beyond suffocating to stay.

But they were his best friends. They knew best, which was why he decided to take them up on their offer of living with them for a little while until he found an apartment that wouldn't drain him of both money and the last tidbits of his will to believe that this world could be a decent place to live in. They even suggested getting him a job at the zoo that was like a second home to them, saying their co-workers already loved him and would definitely welcome him with open arms. Needless to say, he was a bit skeptical to say yes. It just wasn't something he'd ever imagined himself doing. He, a drop-out student of engineering, now taking care of wildlife at the local zoo. It really didn't feel realistic that it would work out for him, that it would help, but it wasn't like he had a better choice at the moment, so he said yes despite the jackrabbiting pace of his heart.

That was two years ago. It still managed to elicit a smile on his face as he thought back to his indecisiveness while he was tending to the animals he'd come to know and love despite the fact most of them barely dedicated him a glance as he did his daily routine of feeding them and cleaning their enclosures. Because, in all honesty, he couldn't imagine himself being anywhere else and he was grateful beyond measure that Ahsoka and Padmé had talked him into it.

He'd stayed with them for the first six months and even though they persisted that it was fine if he wanted to stay longer, to get back on his feet properly, he just smiled and hugged them with all his strength, saying that he was thankful but that he thought it was time. He had enough money, some still left from selling his mom's house, some he earned from his working at the zoo and decided to keep for the future. He found an apartment, nothing too fancy, close enough to both them and the zoo, and even though the pain was still clearly there, maiming his heart for all eternity, and would sometimes come as if on full-frontal assault with guns blazing, as if he'd been reliving the loss all over again, those times felt less frequent the more time passed by. And eventually, Anakin learned to live with that.

So after two years, he felt like his life had taken a stand that was finally firmer and no longer under the threat of collapsing right under his feet. Padmé smiled when he told her that and said that it was indeed showing and that she was happy for him.

But then, it turned out, that the world still had a few surprises up its sleeve.

"Bad news, everyone," Ahsoka said as she found him and Padmé tending to the aquariums. "Cory stole a wallet from one of our customers. Again."

"They don't want to sue us, I hope," Padmé said, glancing at her worryingly. "There are warning signs all over the place and we make sure at least one of us is always in the enclosure with the customers, telling them to be careful and not come too close to any of the macaques."

"I don't think they want to go that far. They seem really nice and understanding of the whole thing. They just want their stuff back, which brings me back to...," she trailed off, a suggestive tone in her voice as she glanced at Anakin.

"What?" he asked even though he knew perfectly what she wanted from him.

"Come on, Skyguy. You know that, out of all of us, there's no one Cory is more likely to listen to than you."

"He's a macaque, Snips. The only reason he stole that wallet is that he thought it was edible. Give him something far more interesting and it'd be like that wallet never meant anything to him. You don't need me to do that."

"But you know how shy he gets when he’s dealing with people he's not familiar with. I can't risk him running off with that wallet and damaging it. God knows why, but it’s never so bad when you’re the one who must deal with him.

“Aw, you should’ve started with the insults. How can I say no when you’re being so nice to me?”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I thought you liked our macaques."

"I do. It's just that you shouldn't rely purely on me. There are other people here who could find a way to their hearts. They didn’t like me at first either, remember?"

"You mean that one time they started throwing snow at you and screamed so much they woke up the whole zoo?"

"They were also throwing apples at me only because I gave them to them!"

"That was two years ago. You've grown on them more than any of us ever did."

"It really wasn't hard. Just come with me, I'll show you how to do it."

"Does that mean you'll make sure that wallet is returned to its rightful owner?" she asked, all doe-eyed and hopeful but with a bit of mischief sneaking in and he sighed when he realized what he'd just said.

"Fine," he said. "But I'm teaching you and then you will teach the others. I might not always be here, you know? And the way I see it, Cory is never going to care enough about this place to give us a break."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she said, skeptical and dismissive because she knew he'd always been saying he didn't mean to stay working here permanently, but he'd never found it in his heart to leave so of course not many could take him seriously on that anymore. Himself included. "Now come on before Cory decides he'll eat that wallet anyway and our customers decide to sue as after all."

He rolled his eyes but said goodbye to Padmé and followed Ahsoka to the macaque enclosure.

*

Cory really was easily corrigible if you had something better to offer to him than he currently possessed and to prove his point, Anakin insisted on Ahsoka being the one to give him the beautiful papaya with the most amazing scent of ripeness they could find. She huffed and glared at him multiple times, but eventually, she gave in and snatched the papaya from his hand and the rest was indeed a piece of cake. Soon the wallet was safely in their possession with no scratches or bite marks and Cory was happily chewing on his papaya, looking like the absolute winner of this debacle, which, honestly, Anakin couldn’t deprive him of being.

"See? Told you it was easy," he said as they watched Cory climb onto a tree and sit on one of the branches so he could enjoy his delicious prize in peace.

"Yeah, fine, gloat all you want,” she said and passed the wallet over to him, “but you've gotta admit this is far better than cleaning up the aquariums any day.”

He snorted and gave her the look of feigned outrage he would always bestow upon himself when he was trying to look like he was above anything she suggested. It made her laugh so hard Cory turned his head to stare at them, looking strangely put off. For a macaque anyway.

“We should get this to its rightful owner.” The way she elbowed him did little to dispute what he’d already known – that by “we” she mostly meant him. He had nothing against talking to customers. Somehow it would always end up being part of his job even though he was responsible for the well-being of animals first and foremost. It was just that he’d had his share of dealing with difficult people back when working directly with animals wasn’t yet entrusted to him. These days, he tended to avoid it altogether. He would always say that was unconscious on his part, but Ahsoka seemed to have a mind of her own and would always tell him he was full of shit and drag him to the nearest person who seemed like they wanted to ask something even if that something turned out to be directions to the nearest bathroom.

That day, he followed her lead willingly as they crossed the bridge that connected the two ends of the enclosure – a hill shaped into the letter “u” which gave way to a beautiful valley underneath it that reached as far as eyes could see. People always stopped to admire the view. Normally, he’d be one of them, but Ahsoka carried herself with hurriedness that was uncharacteristic but not enough for him to feel the need to point it out and question it.

The words would be in vain anyway because only a few seconds later his eyes landed on the two people standing further away from the macaques as if still in the ever-present fear that more very spontaneous muggings might take place and he got his answer right away.

A man and a woman, most likely around his age. She had blonde hair and held herself with the grace and elegance of a public speaker or a lawyer. He had auburn hair and a beard put together so neatly that not a hair was sticking out. He wore a tweed jacket that accentuated his shoulders that were broad but slumped, giving him away as the victim of Cory’s wandering hands. Anakin’s step faltered as he stared at him. He tried to sell it off as yet another proof of how clumsy he was, but one glance at Ahsoka told him he utterly failed. That was just typical. Even if he’d never been the one who’d made a habit of ogling some of their customers.

They both smiled at them as they approached. The eyes of the man were blue intermixed with grey like the sky when night gave a way to dusk. But it wasn’t their shade or the way the sunlight shone in them just right that stunned him so much that he felt unable to form actual words and only came back to himself when he heard Ahsoka pointedly clearing her throat next to him. It was just that they seemed incredibly familiar.

"Sorry," he mumbled and handed over the wallet. "I assume this belongs to you."

The man blinked at him multiple times as if pulled right out of his reverie before he looked at the offered object and took it with a smile. "Yes, thank you." He had a British accent. Even that seemed familiar. "I'm so sorry for troubling you with this. I know we weren't supposed to come so close to the macaques–"

"No, no, it's okay," he cut the man off, cursing himself in his head in vivid detail for being so rude, but he was nervous—only God knew why—and when he was nervous his mouth would always do things out of its volition than listen to his brain which was supposed to know better. "You really aren't the first person Cory considered its prey and you definitely won't be the last."

"Cory?" the man asked, and his expression was so open and so friendly Anakin felt a smile tugging at his lips despite the fact there was really no reason for him to smile.

"The macaque that stole from you. We call him Cory. He's actually very friendly, but once his stomach calls, there's very little he wouldn't do to answer it."

The man chuckled and though it had to be barely audible for anyone standing just a few feet from them, Anakin felt like he'd never heard anything more enticing. "I'll take your word for it."

"You should," Ahsoka said with a friendly smile but a glint in her eyes that was saying she knew exactly what was going on with Anakin and there was no way they weren't going to talk about it the minute they were alone. "Anakin knows these macaques really well. They seem to be fond of him far more than of anyone else."

He fought hard not to groan as he opened his mouth to say anything to make that topic go away and somehow end the conversation entirely before he inevitably embarrassed himself but then he noticed that the relaxed smile had completely vanished from the man's face and was now replaced by a contemplating frown and a mild shock. "Anakin?" he asked, a slight tremble to his voice. "As in Anakin Skywalker?"

Anakin's eyes widened. "Yes, that's me."

The man blinked multiple times yet again, the mild shock from before now fully taking over his whole face as he looked at Anakin before forming a timid smile. "You might not remember me. But we used to live next to each other when we were kids. I'm Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

And for all the tough talk about how his life was finally stable and he couldn't be so easily put down, in that moment, Anakin felt like everything inside him just combusted. Because of course, he knew who Obi-Wan was, what he meant to him still after all these years of only guessing what the man might look like know, what he might be up to in Europe most likely, and how he was definitely not missing his old life here in the States. And the fact that he was here, now, looking like that, so much more beautiful than Anakin's brain could ever conjure him to be—even though he'd always been beautiful to him, but seeing the actual person, knowing the details that couldn't be denied—just made his heart skyrocket so loudly in his chest it felt like someone definitely had to hear it aside from himself. Ahsoka nudged him and he could hug the living breath out of her right then and there, he was that grateful because God, no, this couldn't be happening.

"Um– uh– sorry, no– I mean, yes, of course, I remember you," he finally let out, those words that felt like thousands of paragraphs in how much strength it took to actually form them. "I'm just... this is a lot to take in. The last time I saw you, you were just about to–"

"Board the plane for London, yes," Obi-Wan said, a hint of sadness in his voice which Anakin definitely couldn't dwell on because then his mind would wander off to that time he considered one of the worst moments of his life when it was his last chance to actually muster all the courage he never possessed and kiss Obi-Wan while he still could, damning the consequences for once, but just like any other time, he let this moment slip through his fingers and Obi-Wan with it.

"Yeah," he said and cleared his throat. "How have you been?"

"Good. Homesick, at first, even though it felt silly since I lived five years in Britain before coming to live here, but I eventually found my footing."

"And now you're back here.”

"Seems so.”

"Well, I hope, it'll be everything you remember it to be and more," Anakin said and cursed himself and the heat he could feel in his cheeks when Obi-wan just continued to stare at him as if there was nothing else worthy of a mere glance when he was there. Decades of wishing he'd be the center of Obi-Wan's attention like that definitely failed at preparing him, but it wasn't like the reasons behind it were what Anakin wanted them to be. Obi-Wan was just shocked to see him, just like Anakin was. They'd both changed quite a lot since they'd been fifteen. Anakin had grown taller, his hair got longer, curlier, and a tad lighter from all those workdays he spent under the sun. Obi-Wan had grown from a teenager who wore denim jackets and ripped jeans into a man with sweaters and neat jackets, hair looking perfect and so so soft—and that beard—all that screaming loudly into a great distance that he had to be aspiring to be the history teacher everyone always thought he should be and he just laughed them off without a second thought.

There was nothing more behind it. Anakin was sure.

"Excuse me," the woman next to Obi-Wan suddenly said, turning to Ahsoka. "Do you know where I could find your black bears? Obi-Wan doesn't seem to like them very much and so we figured we'd just skip them, but now I feel that since I'm here, I should go see them anyway. He could use some time to get over this incident with the macaques anyway."

"But of course," Ahsoka said with an enthusiastic smile, "I'll be happy to take you to Cupcake. He's just the sweetest." And with a wink aimed at Anakin that really wasn't subtle at all, Ahsoka led the woman away, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan alone.

"Did you really name a black bear 'Cupcake'?" Obi-Wan asked, looking pained.

"Wasn't me," Anakin snorted. "He has a white spot on his chest. Ahsoka said it reminded her of a cupcake and we didn’t fight her on it. But I’m pretty sure even he wouldn't like it if he was aware of what it meant."

"I guess I can understand that," Obi-Wan said, but he still looked pained. "But, seriously, 'Cupcake'?"

Anakin laughed. "If it makes you feel better, we also have a shark that's called Buttons, a hyena whose name is Stracciatella, but we call her Ella for short, and a hippo who we call Chubby. I could go on."

"Please don't," Obi-Wan said, looking so close to having an actual heart-attack Anakin decided to take pity on him. “Anything, in particular, you have against black bears?”

“You mean aside from the fact they’re terrifying and would attack me to eat me? No, other than that I can’t imagine why anyone would have something against them.”

“Okay, I'll bite. How many times have you heard they actually ate someone?”

“Well, there was this one time–“

“–in what, like, 1997?”

“That bear killed two people and wounded three more!”

“But it still happened more than two decades ago. People die from many things much more often.” Like car crashes, Anakin remembered solemnly. “But they’re terrifying. I can’t argue with that.”

Obi-Wan just kept staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “What?” Anakin asked after a few more seconds of silence.

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan said and shrugged. “It’s just that seeing you here and talking to you about black bears is not something I’d ever imagined we’d be doing.”

I never imagined we’d be seeing each other again at all, Anakin thought but didn’t say. “Disappointed?”

“What? No, not at all. Just surprised. I mean, where is the boy that dreamed of building his own motorcycle one day?”

Anakin’s heart swelled. He couldn’t believe Obi-Wan actually remembered that. “I still built it. And before you ask, yes, I've taken a few people for a ride, and no, no one has died so far and I'm yet to hear a complaint."

"You did always have a hard time paying attention when people were telling you something you didn't wish to hear."

"Really? You sure it wasn't just you?"

“Oh, yes. Me and Shmi had a lot to talk about after all. How is she, by the way?”

Anakin’s shoulders slumped at that, considering not telling the truth for only a second before dismissing the idea entirely. He’d always had a very limited ability to lie to Obi-Wan, there was no reason to try to learn better now when it was most likely this meeting was a one-time thing. “She’s… she died. Two years ago. Car accident.”

Obi-Wan visibly deflated at that. “Oh, Anakin, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s…,” Anakin trailed off, failing to finish that sentence because even after two years of mourning her it was definitely not fine. But he should be used to losing people by now. He’d lost Obi-Wan a decade ago, then her. It should be easy to talk about it, yet it was anything but.

“How about we sit? Can I buy you a coffee?” Obi-Wan asked, eyes so full of concern Anakin shied away from them. He didn’t need the pity.

“You really don’t have to do that,” he said.

“What, buy a coffee for my best friend whom I haven’t seen in ten years, who’s also the sole reason I actually have some money to speak of? It’s the least I can do.”

Well, when he put it that way. “Okay,” Anakin said and Obi-Wan’s whole face lit up so much it took a second for Anakin to realize he was being beckoned to follow.

“But I’m warning you, the coffee here is shit.”

“I’m sure I’ve had worse.”

Anakin made it his mission to remind him of those words the moment they sat down a few minutes later and Obi-Wan took his first sip. “You were saying something?” he asked, the tips of his lips turning into a smug smile.

“I think I wouldn’t wish this coffee on my worst enemy,” Obi-Wan let out, staring at his cup, horrified.

Anakin burst out laughing, almost choking on the terribly bitter liquid in his mouth. “Not even on Cupcake?”

“I fear someone would accuse me of torturing animals if I tried giving this to him.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, the aspiring history teacher and a torturer of animals. You’d have one hell of a resume.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, amused. “Is it really so obvious?”

“That you became the one thing you feared becoming the entire time we were in high school? Maybe a little.”

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that I feared studying history."

"You continuously harassed me, talking about esters, and every time you saw me eating almonds, you complained about it so much I had to eat them in secret."

"Wait, you didn't tell me that–"

"–They're nuts people tend to eat, Obi-Wan. Not a fucking lily-of-the-valley."

"They're still poisonous and could harm you–"

"–When you eat, what, like four cups of them in one sitting? Yeah, I remember, but you see, no one really eats that many almonds in one sitting. Ever."

"Fair point," Obi-Wan said with a grin and shook his head. "Was I really so intolerable?"

No, you were perfect, and every day felt like an agony because I couldn't tell you that. "No– I mean, no more than usual," Anakin said and smirked when Obi-Wan glared at him.

"Well," he said after taking a sip and forming a profound grimace on his face that still made Anakin's heart stutter, because God, how had he become so beautiful– "I suppose we're not all destined to surprise. I don't know what led you to find your place here, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't suit you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. After all, I doubt there are many places you can find so many individuals who have the same flair for the dramatic as you," Obi-Wan said and Anakin kicked his leg with little strength in retaliation just like they would do to each other when they'd been kids. Obi-Wan laughed through it with him and chased after Anakin's leg under the table, bumping it and then keeping it there, touching so faintly a part of Anakin felt tempted to look under the table, to check whether he wasn't imagining it.

They stayed there even after they finished drinking that horrendous coffee. Each time one of them opened their mouths, Anakin expected that moment to be the one that would inevitably break the spell and show that, while seeing each other was nice, amazing, fucking everything, they'd still had a decade to catch up on and most of the time, it came naturally not to find the will or reason to live up to that. But no such moment came. They talked and talked and talked about everything and nothing until they heard someone clear their throat next to them.

"I see you've gotten cozy," Ahsoka said with a knowing smile. Anakin wanted to shrink from it. "Lucky for you, Mr. Windu left early today. Otherwise, you'd be in for having to find another job."

Anakin scoffed but stood up and Obi-Wan followed suit, coming to stand beside the blonde woman he'd come here with. His girlfriend? Wife? Mother of his child? Don't be ridiculous, Anakin, if they had a child, they would have brought them here. Maybe she was expecting?

"Who would be dealing with Cory and the others? Mr. Windu himself?" he asked and Ahsoka laughed at the idea. "Hopefully, we'll never have to find out," she said and soon after that, introductions were made. Anakin introduced her to Obi-Wan, ignoring the pointed glee on her face when she heard they used to be best friends once upon a time but utterly failing not to groan repeatedly when she asked Obi-Wan to share all the embarrassing stories about Anakin he could recall and when Anakin saw him smirk, he could definitely tell that meant he remembered a lot.

Obi-Wan introduced him to Satine, saying they'd met in college and come to the States together. Anakin had no reason to deflate at that. Obi-Wan had never been his and after all those years, there really was no reason to hope that might change, but he couldn't help any of it and it was a near thing that he actually let it show. Thankfully, he didn't have to pretend his indifference for long.

"I'm afraid we really should get back to work," Ahsoka said. "Our boss might be already gone, but some of our four-legged friends here can get even crankier than him and that's saying something."

"Right, of course, we won't keep you," Obi-Wan said and smiled at her. "It was a pleasure to meet you." Then he turned to look at Anakin and the world seemed to stop for just a second as Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it and pursed his lips before parting them again. "It was nice to see you, Anakin. I'm glad we did this." And he motioned toward the empty cups left idly on the table, not a grimace to be found on his face. "I hope we'll get a chance to do it again someday."

"Sure, why not," Anakin said with a smile and shrugged, hoping it showed none of his barely restrained glee and utter hope that yes yes yes, they would absolutely do this again and soon. He had to keep his cool. It was the polite thing to say and as much as Obi-Wan had always been prone to never keep any snarky comments just to himself, he was still the epitome of politeness and there was no reason for Anakin to cling onto this small sentence that could so easily turn into a lie, an empty promise no one should expect to be fulfilled because it had been ten years. Even if this first meeting went well, what guarantee was there, that the other would go the same way?

"You know where to find me," he added as an afterthought before his brain could stop him. "I'm not going anyway." He meant it to sound casual, friendly, teasing even, but of course that he hadn't thought of the implications and only realized his mistake a moment too late when Obi-Wan's kind smile froze and faltered before he schooled it into a pleasant expression. The smile was there, but it wasn't the same. It was guarded and no longer bright and Anakin hated himself for causing such a drastic change. I'm not going anywhere, unlike someone else I know– he hadn't meant for it to sound like that!

"I didn't mean to–" he hurried to explain, but Obi-Wan waved him off with a smile. Anakin hated that smile.

"It's alright."

"No, it's– I'm sorry–"

"You have nothing to be sorry for–"

"Can we just...," Anakin trailed off, faltering and struggling time and time again to find the right words. He didn't want to talk about this now. He didn't want to talk about it ever period. But he desperately wanted to keep talking to Obi-Wan even if it turned out to be for nothing in the end. If they turned out to be too different to ever rekindle their friendship. If this was the price, then he was willing to thrust everything he had at it.

Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes sad and calculating before a familiar glint of determination flickered in the endless stormy sea Anakin always wanted to drown in. "Are you free tomorrow after work?"

It came as such a shock to Anakin, that it took him a moment to answer. "Uh, yeah, I get off at five."

"Meet me after? We can go for a coffee or–"

"Yeah," Anakin said with much more vigor. Yes... please.

"Alright, I'll text you."

"Okay."

And that appeared to be that. Even if Anakin's heart refused to stop hammering for what seemed like an eternity after they said goodbyes.

"Okay, that was... weird," Ahsoka said before turning to look at him and frowning. "Are you alright?"

Anakin eyed her before clearing his throat. "Of course, I am. Why are you asking?"

"Oh, so you didn't find anything weird about how you two were so chummy me and Satine felt really bad for barging in, and then you were both... that the next second?"

"That?"

"I don't even have words for it. It was just weird. I thought you said you were best friends."

"We were."

"You didn't part on good terms, then."

"It's not that–"

"He hurt you."

Anakin's eyes widened. "No, it wasn't that. He didn't hurt me.” But he had. And in doing so Anakin had hurt himself.

Ahsoka stared at him, clearly not having a faculty that could believe him, but her scowl was that of a concern rather than offense or disappointment.  "Just... promise me you'll be careful."

Because he was at a loss of what was the right thing to say, he said what came naturally to him. "Come on, Snips. When have I ever been anything else but careful?"

The smile on her face didn't reach her eyes, but he was thankful when she dropped the subject, and together, they ventured forward, still having some things to do before their shift was over. But even as Anakin kept his head in the game, whenever his hands were empty, he'd find them reaching for his phone even if only for just a second simply because it now stored Obi-Wan's number yet again because Obi-Wan had asked whether they could exchange numbers back when they'd been still drinking that pitiful excuse for a coffee and Anakin had been hopeless to say anything else than a blissful yes.

Was it a good idea to go through with this? The feelings were still there, strong as ever much to his dismay, and he hadn't had to hide them for so long that guarding himself around Obi-Wan no longer seemed natural. But then he remembered how it felt to be immersed in those moments of utter peace when they were just talking and there was no sword hanging above his head. It was just them, being friends so effortlessly as if they'd never stopped.

He wanted that back. And if he was going to build up another strain for his heart to get that, then so be it.

[lovee-infected]

hi! could i see your insights about ace? i saw a anon say from another blog that kinda has unrealistic expectations in a relationship and it kinda stuck with me. i mean in his ghost marriage he already knows the things he wants in a partner but he didn't show guilt about dumping his girlfriend, even. i think if you date him because he sees these quality in you and as the relationship last, he'll dump you if you get boring to him lol

I never thought that I'd say this but, wow, I'm impressed. I've been really curious about Ace since I get to see a variety of different content with different representations of his personality, so I decided to stick with his canon stories and lines. This analysis was so much fun to write and I'd assure you all that not only Ace but rather all of the first year characters are WAY more than they seem to be! Many just decide to ignore them and pass away, calling them good boys or precious stupid beanies at first.

Speaking of Ace, we've all seen how trending he's been recently. Many theories, thoughts and new arguments exist through the fandom as many want to get to know this boy better.

Theories like "Ace's betrayal theory" as well have been mentioned a lot lately, some agree and some disagree. While we aren't going to talk about that theory or any other theories in this analysis, I'd like to take time to talk about the reasons why those theories might seem appealing and accurate. In other words, we're going to talk about where they are coming from!

1) Ace is incredibly smart and brave

It's true that characters like Jade or Azul's remarkable genius often stands out as it's clearly visible through their presence in the game, from iconic decisions to stunning strategies. But what we need to realize is how characters like Ace can be just as inspiring while their true intelligence is often shallowed by extras and giving them much of a dumb picture in the game.

To begin with, let us note that Ace's brother himself was one of the considerably strong magicians in Heartslabyul's history and even his presence through the magicshift is still remarkable even though years has passed. As the second child of the family, Ace's change to achieve success is even higher than his brother's as he already has a role model he really looks up to, so in that point Ace isn't one to underestimate. But, let me point that his relationship with his brother also contains lots of jealousy and sometimes negativity. His brother was one to always trick Ace and he continues to do so even nowadays! Ace on the other hand doesn't enjoy being pissed off over and over even as he's used to it. Well, we can say that it's another reason for him to train his hardest and become a greater magician than his brother therefore he won't be the bully material of the Trappola household anymore.

Regardless of how effective his brother might've been on him, Ace himself has shown plenty of strong hints that reveal not only his high IQ but also EQ:

He can solve math problems in second, which is a rather important feature to note because the way you deal with math can directly effect the way you deal with life. Not saying that one has to be great at math to be great at something else but it's rather about the perspective and ability of logical thinking that it gives to one. I'd say that this effect is quite visible if you take a look at the way he speaks in serious situations; he's got much of an analytical brain. Let's not forget that Cater as well confirmed that he's much of a skill stealer, is pretty good at remembering things and is a quick thinker! These are go on to show how much of an underestimated genius he is.

Whenever something goes wrong, Ace would be the first one to notice it even if it's a silly matter. And it always begins with a seemingly childish argument, but ends incrucial matters that not a single soul had noticed before! Just take a look at chapter one, what would've happened if Ace hadn't spoken up? He was just one of the hundreds of students having to be severely punished under Riddle's strict rules and he surely wasn't the first one to go through this. Him taking the urge to fight Riddle sounded stupid and naïve at first, many even told him off because he was just acting like a pissed off child. But as he continued to argue and oppose toward Riddle's way as a leader, even Trey realized how he's been keeping his eye shut on all this problems for so long. The way Ace stood against Trey was iconic, he confidently defended his point not by his personal demands and feelings but with facts and logical comments on why Trey's way of threatening Riddle is wrong. He did the same thing again at he ghost marriage, just think of it! Not a single soul ever cared to tell the bride about true love but Ace was there, and he was the one and only to do this after more than 500 years of the bride's existence! This Ace, this serious and mature face of Ace is something that can surely fascinate anyone. His bravery, the way he puts all that strength through words, hisextremely logical point of view and his enthusiasm to solve the problems no matter how unimportant they seem to be is indeed appreciatble. Seriously though, what would've happened to Riddle is Ace wasn't there? When Ace firstly begun to oppose to him, everyone thought that is was just a childish argument. They had no idea how severe and destructive Riddle's temper issues were and how harmful they were down inside.

2) He's one of the dumbest characters in the whole game

You know what? He is dumb. Yes he's incredibly smart but this isn't going to change the fact that he is dumb as hell, so I'm never going to argue when someone's nagging on how much of an idiot he is. But most importantly, we need to know what's making him so dumb:

His presence through the stories has proved that Ace is eventually pretty good at detecting the main source of problems both on the mental and physical side. He was the first to realize Riddle's issues, Trey's huge mistake with Riddle, Ghost bride's unawareness and Epel's gloomy and sad aura in chapter 4. Ace's also one to easily tell whether what someone is doing is wrong or not, he can see through people and bring their mistakes to their attention. The problem is... he can't be quite the same with himself. That's what makes him awfully dumb.

Back in chapter one, he did have a point about Riddle's way of leadership being so unfair and messed up, but when he decided to challenge Riddle and even take his place as the dorm leader he was a total idiot who didn't how weak and unpractical his own magic was, he was being too dramatic. When he talked about his ex girlfriend, he just talked about how she held him back from doing what he wanted and was too uncool to spend time with, but he didn't mention a single thing about himself doing anything wrong in that relationship. He often fails to realize that he's got his own incompleteness and lacks just like anyone else, or prefers to put an blind eye to them most of the time (not all of the time)

Ace sets the perfect goals, but chooses the wrong path to achieve them. He needs to realize that just like everyone else, he can be sometimes wrong. He should take his time to get to know himself better; his abilities, his attitude, his faults and his mistakes and learn to be more patient and logical in order to achieve his goals. He's still young an inexperienced, by learning to put that brilliance of him into the perfect use he'd be able to become the great magician he wishes to be, and I'd say that in case that he continues to grow stronger and smarter, he'll have a high chance of being hesrtslabyul's next dorm leader!

3) He legit wants to be the "Ace"

This part's more of an attempt to do a name analyis and see how much it's been effective on Ace's personality. It actually makes a lot of snese since the word "Ace" itself has several meanings, and he used these different terms quite a few times in his personal stories. This point would also be explained in part (4) so for now, let's take a look at direct name definitions:

First of, remember what what an Ace is in a card game? "A playing card with a simple spot on it, ranked as the highest card in its suit" This goes on to tell us a lot, it's telling us what an Ace is. A loner yet the most powerful one of its own, just like how Ace wants to be.

Wanting to be an actuall Ace is definitely one of the things that sometimes makes Ace sound so jerky and he's aware of it! If you give it a closer look, you'll see that Ace doesn't really treat his friends like friends, especially with Deuce and Grim. He's often insulting or challenging them, and even during his birthday SSR when MC asked him about what he thinks of each of other first years (Who are basically his closest friends) he mainly criticized them and all, not a single word was said about things he likes about them and he didn't even call any of them his friend!

Well that's much of a jerky attitude to have toward people whom you spend almost all of your time with, especially your best of time.

He to play the role of the bad guy, the type to hang out with everyone without feeling any attached to them as even friends. Seems like our boy is trying to be a loner, a true Ace of cards and hearts. And he doesn't mind his friends calling him a bastard or jerk because of this. It's even confirmed that he's more of the popular guy type therefore he's mainly used to having people around!

On the other hand, he's trying his best to achieve success no matter what the obstacles are. It's true that he often messes up and fails, but we cannot say that he isn't trying. He almost lost his head for real during his SSR story where Riddle's favorite hedgehogs were lost because of Ace's impatience, but at last with the help of monsieur Rook and his own ability to imitate Rook's mole language skills Ace saved his neck one more time, and ended his story with a dramatic "Of course, I always Ace it!"

4) Ace does care, but pretends that he does not

In contrast to the fact that he wants to sound tricky,manipulative and mean, or how he's denying his friends' true worth to him like stated in part (3), Ace is probably one of the most caring and supportive characters in the game. Not saying that he's just as bright as someone like Kalim, but his way of seeing through people and wishing them to be better, wealthier and happier than they already are is surely something. This fact is often ignored because, well...everyone's too busy calling him either dumb or sus/ jk!

Just imagine having a friend or at least, a classmate you know like Ace. How's he supposed to be? He'd realize it when someone's bullying/bothering/ or intentionally harming you, and he isn't going to be silent about it. If you see that you're permanently sad, angry, rude or loud then again he'd speak up, he isn't going to just pull up with anyone's unhealthy habit like nothing's happened. He's got much of a big brain as well so you should expect him to say a bunch of helpful and meaningful stuff when he's using that brain, mainly in serious situations. He may not be a permanently mutual to have around, but when the troubles arrive, know that having Ace around is always an advantage.

To top it off, he's even shown sympathy toward people whom he seemed to like the least at first like Riddle; he wishes Riddle to be happier, to smile more, to be more open about his emotions with other students. At some point he even admits that he looks up to him, he used to overestimate his powers and challenged Riddle, but during the ghost marriage he said that he knows how powerful and strong Riddle is, therefore he should work his hardest to study and train to become strong just like him! He already seems to be more cheerful and bright when MC is talking to him, but when it comes to Grim and Deuce...it gets quite complicated. What we see the most is often Ace insulting them or saying that he's going to kick their asses, but they're also his closest friends all though he refuses to admit to it.

Just wait for Deuce or Grim to get in a serious danger or pain, and see how much of a protective one Ace can be! He isn't going to remain silent when one is in danger, but he's surely going to deny all that effort and affection he gave into action afterwards. When Ace can feel this cautious and understanding toward Riddle, someone who isn't even a friend of his then imagine how supportive and caring he would be toward his close friends like Deuce, MC and Grim!

In his ghost marriage as well, his words and the way he spoke of the meaning of true love left everyone, even Crowley, impressed (Crowley even said that he's fallen in love with this side of Ace's personality), but refused to admit that he was speaking of his true feelings after the ceremony. Someone like Grim is too bold to recognize how much of a different person Ace can be inside, so he claimed that Ace was just rambling nonsense without thinking of what he was saying back then, and Ace agreed with him! This is a continuation to part (3) where we talked about how he wants to be a loner, he doesn't want anyone to see how caring and sometimes, emotional he can be inside! Poor boy is quite shy showing his true feelings we can tell~

5) Ace can be quite tricky and manipulative

This part will also explain some of the main reasons behind famous theories like "Ace's betrayal theory", and I wanted to have a certain part to talk about this point specifically because it's been quite trending through the whole fandom, and many are wondering why theorizers are considering his betrayal a possibility, so here we go!

As said, one of the main factors the makes Ace seem suspicious would be his incredible intelligence. The fact that he can actually be that smart all the time but isn't openly showing his talents and abilities can be quite questionable, more details regarding his intelligence and most likely high IQ and EQ were discussed in part (1)!

Enough with intelligence, let's focus on his personality! This is mainly what this part is talking about, his trickiness. Just like his father and older brother, Ace is pretty good with magic tricks. Small and fun tricks are a convenient yet easy ways to inspire others and Ace doesn't mind showing the crowd what he's got up in sleeve when possible. But the thing is...this isn't just about fancy tricks.

This ability can be expanded into any other field such as mental terms and enable him to indirectly control and play with one's mind. That's more of a possibility though! He hasn't yet shown any signs of being any manipulative but, well, we can't say that it's beyond his abilities. Ace himself can be quite sarcastic and mean at the time, he doesn't seem to mind slightly tricking his friends either. Nothing about him seems to be serious, but the possibilities remain still.

The way he learnt those tricks as well is mentionable; no one ever teached himm any of those tricks, he learnt them through being repeatedly tricked, and learning to copy and redo what he saw. Both Rook and Cater so far have confirmed that Ace's ability to learn so quickly and learn and redo techniques just by watching them is fantastic.

His genius and ability to learn and memorize everything that he needs to learn pretty fast, along side his tricky and sometimes personality can make Ace quite dangerous. If someone like him decides to choose such a remarkable talent for evil purposes, that's surely going to be bad news. That's much and less of what makes Ace's betrayal theory make sense although there're still fans who find it quite questionable. I'm not a supporter of this theory myself as I hadn't seen any signs of Ace having any bad intentions so far, but I do get where the theorizers are coming from and that makes sense. Ace has been trying to put on much of a mean and lowkey evil face on through the story and no one can really say what's exactly going on in that brain. We'll that about this uncertainty in part (7)!

6) His past relationship was...uh

For now, Ace is the only character who is confirmed to have experience in love and relationships, and this was a rather effective factor since many have been talking about Ace's past relationship afterwards. The thing is...Ace did talk about how his girlfriend held him back from having fun and living the life he wanted to live. Well there's actually a lot we should say about this one so I'm not gonna rush to the end, let's think about all of the aspects of this situation logically:

First of, the relationship itself. I'd say that it was a wrong attempt for them to date each other in the first place because obviously, Ace and his girlfriend weren't made for each other. They were total opposites in interests and they couldn't even have fun together. If Ace chose to go on a wild roller coater ride, the girl would've freaked out and when she chose a small, childish ride that she liked Ace instead didn't enjoy it at all. It's surely an issue when you and your partner can't even watch a movie which both of you can enjoy together since their tastes were totally different, just jow was this relationship going to last? Ace wasn't happy, and if he was going to do what made him happy the girl in return would've been sad. They were two different people of two different points, dating at this point was nothing but a mistake.

On the other hand, Ace as well is guilty. First off, she shouldn't have dated the girl in the first place if he was aware of how different her tastes were. Second, from what he said he never showed any signs of dissatisfaction when he had to give up on what he liked to listen to what the girl friend liked. The girl friend obviously told him that she was scared of a horror movie, but Ace just kept his mouth shut and felt awfully annoyed as he watched a romance movie with her while he didn't like it at all. If he'd at least told her girlfriend about this, she wouldn't have felt as injured and cheated when Ace broke up with her. Ace shouldn't have bottled it up, he deserved to enjoy the relationship just as much as the girl did. He shouldn't have expected things to get any better if he wasn't going to solve anything about it in the first place. If he'd talked about his personal desires and favorites as well, and had his uncomfortableness with most of the girl's choices discussed before hand, there could've been a chance of them coming into a conclusion and even not breaking up! The girl could've tried to be braver for him, and Ace could've agreed to be softer because of her. There would've been a HUGE difference if they'd talked about it logically.

Also, keep this in mind that the girl had no idea about Ace's uncomfortableness which was low key naïve of her (It's not cool when you don't even realize that your boyfriend doesn't like something) but this also made him awfully unprepared for a break up! Ace should've st least talked about his feelings and how he was unable to continue that relationship with her instead of just dropping her out of nowhere. That would've also decreased the chance of having to deal with the girl's friends after wards!

Finally, let's say that this relationship was wrong in too many aspects. They weren't each other's type, and we can't really blame Ace for dropping someone whom he couldn't be happy with. The main of being in a relationship is spending time with someone whom you can enjoy your time with. He as well was guilty because he can't just drop the girl like he just didn't care and had gotten tired of her while he had his own reasons for dropping her, he should've let the girl know that it wasn't necessarily her fault, it was about Ace not being able to relate to her tastes and habits.

Also, let's be honest. Not much is expected when a 15 year old is dating. Being in a relationship is an awfully sensitive and important choice and someone like Ace hasn't reached that level of maturity to be ready to date someone, let alone doing it at his 15s! Honestly... they should've learnt a lot before dating each other because it isn't a silly thing. Dating like this is nothing but playing around for a while for fun, it's a childish game of spending some time together until they break up.

For now, Ace is finds love quite silly and meaningless so we can clearly see that his past relationship has pissed him off. Well Ace needs to realize that his relationship with his ex wasn't a serious one, so it's normal for it to seem unimportant and silly. He needs to learn a lot without dating someone again, such as knowing how crucial it is to make sure that his hobbies would match his partners, to make sure tjat they get along, and simply, he needs to find his own type! Not all people are made for each other, and he isn't supposed to fall for anyone with any possible personality that pops up on his way.

Also, I'd say that he still needs to focus on studying instead of dating. He needs to reach the required level of maturity to be ready to start a healthy and successful relationship again. Also, he might end up being totally different from what we've seen about him being in a relationship do far when he grows up! Idealistics do change a lot olin teenagehood.

7) We need to talk about our first years a lot more!!!

This point isn't just about him, but rather all of the first years! If I were to rate the most ignored and shallowed personalities of twst, the first years should've gone on the top of this list. Even when we're speaking of the mischaracterized characters of the game, many consider Ace and Deuce to be the least mischaracterized while they happen to be the most mischaracterized as no one evencares to see through them and feel like we aren't mischaracterizing them just because we're ignoring them! Come on guys, Ace's design and personality is a lot more complicated and harder to read than characters like Vil and even Leona!

Out of all first years Sebek was the only one to get some proper shout outs so far but why isn't anyone talking about Ace and Deuce the way they deserve to be talked about? Their presence through the game is even more important than the dorm leaders as they are the closest characters to MC, and their personality design is just incredible, no just because of how perfectly detailed it is, but also because of giving them this unpredictability and incompleteness which totally matches their age!

Studies have shown that judging one's personality based on how they're doing at the age of 16 or younger is prettyhard and impossible, and it's a totally serious fact. At the age of 16, human's personality is under severe effects and changes until reaching it's final-developed shape. That's accurate toward almost all of the first years except Jack since he seems to have more of a mature personality.

NRC's first years are really complicated, especially a character like Ace. That why I said that we can't yet tell if he's a good guy or not, because at this level of life he can choose to be anything. He can be good, he can be bad, he can be neutral. That's why he's showing too much of opposite actions at the moment. One second he's being the biggest idiot in the whole world, the other second he's planning like a 50 year old genius. One second he's being protective over his friends, the other second he sighs and tells MC how annoying they are.

That's why Ace is hard to read, we can't tell what his true feelings are until he reaches the required mental stability to be judged as a mature and complete personality. 18 year olds like Vil have already reached that level of maturity and completeness, finding their unique magics as well is another sign of it. But our first years still need to learn and experience until they find their real selves, to see who they are.

This is one of the most adorable facts about their design because they really gave him this young and wild and incomplete nature to show that they're still young! This is quite incredible how careful Yana was to remember that they all needed some this childishness in their design, their designs are just as accurate and realistic as a real 16 year old's! They still need to learn, and that's why they're the closest ones to MC.

MC needs to learn and get to see more and more of this world, and so do the first years! They're just as unexperienced and new to this world, and they can relate to MC better than anyone else can!

So please, from now on, let's remember to talk about not only Ace, but also all of the first years more often. Ace and Deuce's designs especially are the most detailed and beautiful ones if you take time to know them better. Remember that after the 7 dorm leaders, Ace and Deuce's roles as the protagonist's closest allies are the most crucial in the game, so let's not just decide to ignore all these creative features and pass by them without thinking how much they can mean.

Woah, this one was quite harder to write than I'd expected! There are way too many things to say about him which made me have to summarize this into just this 7 parts for now. Ace is surely and odd yet interesting one to study, even more interesting than usually famous characters like Leona and Azul, which is partly because of how unpredictable he is!

[beautifulsavagegarden]

//Okay, so I’m going to try and put all my thoughts down about this and I will try to make sure it isn’t too long. Putting under a keep reading thingy just because spoilers for the IWTV tv show. 

Overall, the AMC show contains good acting from a good cast and the issues that I have with it are not in any way connected to the cast. They didn’t write it and they did their job exceptionally well. 

There were some plus points to it overall and I feel that we finally were able to get a relationship between Louis and Lestat that is more accurate towards the romantic overtones of their relationship that has, in previous media, been missed or glossed over. 

I don’t have issues with the change of setting and time for the show because they were able to hit the main points and it feels like they did authentic research on the time period when they changed this. 

It’s good to see more POC representation in main stream TV and, naturally, these changes in relation to the time period really gave Louis and Claudia a lot more struggles to deal with, Louis especially. 

At times, they didn’t shy away from the racism that would have occurred at that time. They also didn’t shy away from how aggressive the relationship could be between Louis and Lestat. They included the manipulation and the toxic traits of that relationship. The physical violence could be considered a bit OTT and there isn’t much precedent for it in the book to that degree but it was representative of the toxicity of the relationship and it made sense because Lestat was absolutely raging and he’s not particularly good with dealing with his emotions. 

Even though there was, at times, an idealised view of Lestat as reflected in Louis’ narrative, we got to see the good parts and the bad parts of him and he feels a lot more realised because of it. 

The issues I have, some of them began in the earlier episodes, but I’ve really become irritated by them in the last episode because yes, I am effectively a book purist when it comes to certain fandoms where I am particularly strongly bonded to the material and TVC was one of the few things that kept me alive during my teenage years when my best friend’s and I believed I wouldn’t make it past my 16th birthday. 

So, to this issues. 

1: The movement of the vampires during daylight is not consistent with the canon where they experience a paralytic sleep when the sun rises. 

2: How much stronger in the modern day Louis is in comparison to how he was in the book. This can be explained so it was a very mild issue that I had in comparison to some of the others. 

3: Claudia leaving and the implication that she was sexually assaulted or worse. It wasn’t necessary, it wasn’t in the canon at all and was a huge departure from it and it felt like it was thrown in there more for shock value than anything else. The same can also be applied to how ridiculous the fight was between Louis and Lestat when she came back. 

4: Lestat being able to fly and not just flying but flying to such a large height. This isn’t something he was able to do until Akasha had already properly risen and she had then taught him. This is something that also annoyed me during the IWTV movie too. 

5: You knew this was coming... Armand. 

Armand is able to stand in the sun with no ill effects whatsoever. In fact, he isn’t in any way damaged like we saw with both Louis and Claudia. In the canon, he isn’t strong enough for the sun to not destroy him or seriously mess him up and that’s a part of Memnoch the Devil and this has implications for Sybelle and Benji too in The Vampire Armand and how they came into Armand’s life and became vampires. 

I was initially angered by the thought of Rashid being Armand because of how subservient he appeared to be to Louis but, after watching the show, I can understand how that would have played out and, once he’s revealed, it became clear that Rashid was holding a lot of control and power, topping from the bottom perhaps is how it could be explained. 

His physical appearance is a mild issue and it’s probably just because I’m desperate to see Armand being himself as the character he is with the physical elements of his appearance. I don’t have any problems with him being POC, I would like to clarify that before anybody misinterprets what I’m saying. I’d just like to see my auburn haired Botticelli angel. 

As I have reflected on it further, it has become even more irritating that Rashid is Armand because it would have made so much more sense if Rashid was part of Queen’s Blood or First Brood and Louis taking his blood would explain why he’s stronger and the sun issue would also have been addressed. 

[sakumareikun]

arghhh i hope im not too late uhh,, may i request current tsumugi with a bit of a sickly s/o? if not all of the req slots are filled up ofc ahaja

it has been A While since i've written him, so forgive the rustiness lmao

i think i ended up writing this with a "reader is sickly enough to be stuck in the hospital" perspective which idk if it applies or not 😟💦 I HOPE it's still satisfactory!

 

⇨ It probably started based on that sickliness. You were just out somewhere when the symptoms flared up. Tsumugi, who happened to be in the general vicinity, immediately worried about you, offered to take you to a hospital or infirmary, etc. He knows the signs of illness and would not hesitate to offer. (He used to take care of Eichi to an extent, after all.)

⇨ So, assuming that offer was taken... Maybe he came back to check on you? Even if you were complete strangers, his horoscope that first day said he'd be lucky when meeting new people.

⇨ For the sake of plot, let's say you were hospitalized for a little bit longer than expected? He'd visit and bring a lucky item to "ensure safe recovery!" He still talked to you after you'd left it, maybe you'd both exchanged numbers or something.

⇨ You're friends before you know it! Wow, he's an idol? Isn't he busy? Yes, but he needs friendships outside of work. (Rei's close enough with Tsumugi to say that, so that's who encourages him to keep going, no matter how often Tsumugi’s self-deprecating comments happen.)

⇨ The moment he recognized he had developed romantic feelings, he double-checked the compatibility of your horoscope with his own. He knows the zodiac inside and out, but it never hurt to have a second opinion, right?

⇨ Natsume was not amused when Tsumugi asked him to divine how likely it was you'd have feelings for him as well. "This is your probLEM, Senpai. You have to do it yourSELF."

⇨ Sora agreed with Natsume on that he should handle his feelings for you on his own. But, he definitely noted when Tsumugi's color looked different. "Are you thinking about them again, Senpai? Your color's all flushed." ♪

⇨ It was probably a group effort, since it took the entirety of New Dimension to convince Tsumugi to ask you out and confess. He was so honest normally that it was pretty shocking to hear he wasn't just acting on those feelings.

⇨ The only thing Natsume agreed to do was the Tarot card reading of how well his asking out/confession would go. (The reading was favorable. With fortune-telling, Natsume can encourage people to act in ways that will benefit them, and he'd gotten sick of hearing about Tsumugi's First Real Crush by then.

⇨ (It’s unfortunate that Tsumugi didn’t shut up after it went well.)

⇨ The following dates went great! Probably! He might’ve made a lot of dumb mistakes on them, more of his low self-esteem showing, but you’re probably good about that, understanding or helpful, etc.

— And now you’re dating him! —

 

⇨ As stated before, the entirety of New Dimension knows about you and him being in a relationship. Everyone. See above.

⇨ That probably means members of Knights visit, sometimes Madara too. Tsumugi worries a lot less when he knows you’re safe, so if he can't personally bring you the lucky item of the day, someone else will! (I know nothing about her but I’m pretty sure Arashi would love to do that?)

⇨ Every morning, he texts you info about your sign’s outlook for the day. What do you avoid today? What might go well? Will you have good luck with this or that?

⇨ He works way too hard. Please make him relax once in a while. Texts just aren’t enough. Maybe help sort the paperwork? Clean the office a little? Physically put whatever he’s working on down?

⇨ Tsumugi, shortly before your birthday, stressing because he still hasn’t picked the perfect gift: “Natsume-kun, what do I get them?” “Senpai, this is YOUR PartNER, why are you asking ME?”

⇨ If you manage to go visit him for no reason, or as a surprise, or bring lunch/snacks, stuff like that, he will brighten up way faster than a lightbulb. On the days the symptoms are worse, sending Arashi is fine in your stead.

⇨ I know so little about all of Knights, but considering that’s the entire theme, I’m sure at least one of them takes escorting you REALLY seriously. Tsukasa looks serious. Doesn’t Izumi fuss a lot? Maybe he’ll end up fussing over you eventually?? Just tossing out ideas, no clue if they’re accurate or not.

 

⇨ tl;dr: Despite your frequent/chronic illnesses, you have so much power now. Use it responsibly.

[iam93percentstardust]

i was about to ask you to continue your marvels unsolved ‘verse but then i saw your specific ships so i’m going to ask for a fantasy au with winteriron!! but tbh you should do whatever makes you happy it’s your birthday month!!! (happy birthday! your writing makes me so happy thank you so much for it)

Thank you so much!! I’m so happy you like my writing!!!

I ended up being inspired by the magical flower shop AU I wrote last August, but that’s not necessary to read to understand this fic. Since tumblr is still having issues with links, I won’t include the link here but if you’re interested in that one, it’s Chapter 27 of AU-gust

As always, this fic can be found on my ao3!

Roses and Rowan

It’s storming when Bucky drives past Ravenspoint’s limits. The rain is coming down hard enough that he almost misses the sign for the little town in all the gloom, but then there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the foreboding faces of the town patriarchs glaring down at those who would dare enter their town. Bucky shivers, resolutely turning away as he continues on his way.

He’s not here for them anyway. The patriarchs are long dead, their only descendants long since fled. There’s another flash of lightning, this time illuminating the hill off to the left and the old manor on the hilltop. From what little bit he can see through the storm, it looks like it was once a stately mansion but it’s falling into disrepair now. Bucky blinks and suddenly he can see the golden glimmer of the wards around the whole hill, sealing the house and grounds off from the would-be adventurers brave enough to test their mettle against the ghosts of Rosewood Manor.

Another shiver runs down his spine. The magic is strangely familiar, though he can’t place where he might have seen it before. He blinks again and the golden glimmer of the wards disappears from his view. “Spooky,” Bucky mutters. In the passenger seat, Alpine mraows her agreement. He reaches over and scratches under her chin, grinning when she purrs loud enough to drown out the music coming from the car speakers.

They pull into town a few minutes later, only knowing it by the stoplight Bucky just barely manages to make out through the sheets of rain pounding down. He would have missed it otherwise, the storm too heavy and the buildings too dark to see in the night. Ravenspoint is a small town with a population of only three thousand people, exactly one stoplight, and two streets that run the length of town, connected by a series of smaller cross streets. It’s exactly the last place Bucky ever thought he would find himself and yet here he is, searching for someone who had made it clear he didn’t want to be found.

“What am I doing, Alpine?” he asks the cat. “He told me he didn’t want me to come after him.”

Alpine can’t respond but she rolls over, exposing her belly to him, and he gets the sense of reassurance through their bond.

“I know,” he responds. “Tellin’ people he wants to be left alone when that’s usually the last thing he wants. But let’s be real here, this place is pretty far off the beaten track.”

Another pulse of reassurance.

“Well if you ask me—” the helper figment starts to say.

“I didn’t,” Bucky interrupts before it can say anything else. Damn figment’s been more trouble than it’s worth this whole trip. “Where’s the turn?”

The figment gives him a sullen look. “In five hundred yards, off to the right.”

Even as the figment says it, Bucky spots the glowing lights of the shop in the distance. He slows down and pulls over into one of the parking spots off the street, peering up through the rain at the shop sign above the door.

“Bluebells and Belladonnas,” he reads. “He always did like alliteration.”

“Great,” the figment says waspishly. “Can I go now? I got a hot—”

Bucky flicks his fingers and the figment disappears back to whatever dimension figments come from. Alpine flicks her tail lazily, giving off a sense of amusement and a little bit of hunger. Bucky laughs and scratches her chin again.

“Yeah, I would’ve let you eat it if it wouldn’t have given you indigestion,” he says. “’nother couple of minutes. I’m sure he has fresh tuna for you.”

He sighs and looks at the shop again. The sign on the front says it’s closed but there are lights on inside both in the shop itself and in the apartment above the shop, telling him that the owner is probably still working.

“So what’re you doing sitting out here?” he asks himself. He gives another baleful look at the stormy clouds and the rain still pouring down, groans, and then shrugs his hood up over his head. Nothing for it. The rain isn’t supposed to let up for another couple of hours and Bucky doesn’t feel like sitting in the car that long.

“You gonna be good out here?” he asks Alpine. She blinks slowly at him. That’s a yes, then.

Quick as he can, he gets out and dashes for the cover the awning provides. Once there, he throws his hood back and then knocks on the door. He waits about a minute before knocking again, this time a lot louder. It takes a moment before he sees a person-shaped blob behind the water-streaked glass. He knocks for a third time. The person gets larger as they move closer and then the door unlocks and swings open with a wave of the person’s hand.

“What—”

“You know,” Bucky says, stepping over the threshold. He bites back a shiver as a wave of magic washes over him, verifying that he has no ill intent. “You are a hard person to find.”

“Yeah, some people would take that as a hint,” Tony Stark states flatly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at Bucky.

~

Bucky is born with the ability to see magic. Or, at least, that’s the sfigmentlest way to explain it, if not the most accurate. Just about everyone can “see” magic but what they see are actually just the effects of magic—what was produced or what was done. Bucky has the ability to actually see the threads of magic. It’s a Barnes family gift, although none of the Barnes mages have had this ability in nearly two centuries. Bucky is the first in a very long time and because of that, he ends up having to go to school rather than being trained at home by the family mage (also known as Ma to Bucky and his sister).

It's at school that he meets his best friend, Stevie, and Stevie’s other best friend, Tony. Tony is a bit of an oddball, not that Bucky and Steve are incredibly popular either. Steve should be popular because of his dragon heritage and the power that brings him but he comes into his inheritance late and has a strong sense of morality and that gets him into trouble, more often than not. And Bucky just ends up following behind him.

But Tony—Tony is hard to pin down. He has incredible amounts of power, which is unusual in a mage from the Jarvis line. He’s a lot younger than most of the other kids, which isn’t so unusual for people with a lot of power—Bucky can think of a couple examples off the top of his head of people who went to school early because of their powers—but all those people went to school early because they didn’t have control, and Tony is nothing if not controlled. He doesn’t much look like either of his parents and the way he acts sometimes… it’s clear that he’s been through a lot, is all.

It’s not until their fourth year that Bucky starts putting the pieces together, and it starts when he finds out that Tony doesn’t actually get his powers from the Jarvis line but from the Carbonell line instead. He wasn’t supposed to overhear that but he and Steve had gotten in trouble again and were sitting outside the Headmistress’s office while she finished up a meeting with the Jarvises.

That’s when he’d heard it: “The Carbonell magic is strong in Tony,” the Headmistress had said, and that had been all Bucky had heard as the pieces had started falling into place. It had always puzzled Bucky how Tony’s magic, so suited to big things, had come from the Jarvises, both of whom were more skilled in household charms and enchantments, but if Tony was adopted… Adoption was rare in magical families, as magic was so often tied to filial lines, but it wasn’t unheard of, and that explained so much about Tony.

He spends some time in the library after that, researching the Carbonells. They’re an old line, originating in Italy, before coming to the Americas in the late sixteenth century. They’re known for producing powerful mages with the exact same proficiency in metallurgy that Tony’s always demonstrated. The last of them, Maria, had married one of the Starks, a newer family with a proficiency in elemental magics—another of Tony’s skills, Bucky realizes—and that’s where the trail goes cold. He never finds another mention of the Carbonells, or the Starks for that matter, in any of the old history books.

But there has to be more to the story, Bucky knows. Because there’s Tony, who looks just like Maria Carbonell, and that means there has to be more. However, he never brings it up. That’s Tony’s story, and if he doesn’t want to tell them, he doesn’t have to.

He never stops hoping that Tony will, though.

~

Tony is looking at him now, eyes dark and arms crossed. Bucky has changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he’d brought with him as his clothes had ended up drenched, even from just the short run from the car and back out to grab Alpine and his travel bag. His clothes are drying by the fire now as Alpine explores the apartment, sniffing around curiously. Bucky is curious as well, but he’s been so busy drinking in the sight of Tony after almost two years of nothing that he hasn’t taken the time yet to look around.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” Tony asks eventually.

He shrugs. “I came to find you.”

“Thought I made it obvious I didn’t want to be found.”

“I thought we had unfinished business,” Bucky says quietly. He gazes at Tony steadily until Tony squirms and turns away, busying himself with the coffeepot on the counter. He prepares two cups of coffee, one with more sugar than most people can stand and one with more milk than coffee, and hands the one with milk to Bucky.

Bucky takes one sip and blinks in surprise. “This is decaf,” he says.

“Yeah, and?”

“Tony, you don’t drink decaf. You called it the devil’s brew.”

There’s a hint of a smile lurking around the corners of Tony’s mouth as he raises his own cup to his mouth. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Seems like you’ve forgotten a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like how I promised you I’d follow you anywhere.”

Tony stills for a moment before he puts his cup back down on the counter. “Bucky—”

“Tony, why?” Bucky asks, not even bothering to hide the anguish in his voice. It’s how he’s felt every day since Tony disappeared two years ago. “You told me we’d talk the next day, only I woke up to find you’d run. Did I push too hard? Was it not what you wanted?” He stops, frustrated and upset, and scrubs his hand over his face.

“Bucky, no,” Tony says, dismayed. He moves forward, taking Bucky’s hands between his. “It wasn’t you. You have to believe me. It was never you.”

“Then what was it?”

Tony bites his lip, hesitating. Even without using his Sight, Bucky can see golden magic swirling under Tony’s skin, pooling at his hands where they’re touching Bucky’s. He blinks and now he can see his own magic, cool silver, gathering at his fingertips, aching to reach out and touch Tony’s. Their magic has always been compatible, always stronger when they’re together, even before Bucky figured out his complicated feelings for Tony.

“Doll?” he asks, immediately regretting the pet name when it makes Tony flinch. He doesn’t take it back though. This is who he is, a little old-fashioned and a little flirty and a lot in love with Tony Stark.

“It’s me,” Tony eventually admits, looking down at their hands as though he can see the magic too. “I got scared. It’s—I’m not who you think I am.”

“Not what? Not a Jarvis? Tony, I’ve known that for ten years.”

Tony’s head jerks up so fast Bucky’s own neck aches in sympathy. “What did you say?”

“Tony, I know you’re not a Jarvis,” Bucky says again, patiently. He’s never admitted this to anyone before, let alone Tony. He can afford to be careful right now.

“How did you know that?” Tony breathes. “We’ve never told anyone.”

“Except for the Headmistress,” Bucky points out. “You prob’ly had to tell her so she could help you with your abilities.”

“We did,” Tony whispers.

He shrugs. “Stevie and I overheard her one time. She said your magic came from the Carbonell line. I got curious, thought it might explain why you and the Jarvises are so different, so I looked it up.”

“You didn’t think that was invading my privacy?”

The words are harsh but Tony doesn’t look upset. He looks—hopeful, almost, like he wants to believe Bucky knows everything about him and doesn’t judge him for it. It makes Bucky bold and he steps forward, right into Tony’s space, as he tugs one of his hands free and uses it to tuck one of Tony’s curls behind his ear, fingers brushing against his cheek.

“You are a puzzle I’ve only ever wanted to solve,” Bucky murmurs, bowing his head to rest his forehead against Tony’s. His hand cups Tony’s cheek for the briefest moment and then falls to his shoulder. Tony closes his eyes and inhales shakily. “But the moment the trail went cold, I stopped looking. It didn’t seem right to keep digging.”

“What did you find?” Tony asks.

“Two names: Howard Stark and Maria Carbonell, that’s it.”

Tony nods. “Those were my parents.”

“Were?”

“Could be are. I don’t know where they went after they left me, but I stopped calling them mine the moment they were gone.”

“What happened?” He feels Tony tense under his hand and quickly adds, “If you want to tell me. Don’t feel like you have to.”

“No, it’s—I want to,” Tony says, sounding frustrated. The space between his brows furrows in irritation. “I’ve just never told anyone and—I’m not sure I’m ready to tell the full story yet. It’s a lot.”

“Whatever you’re ready for, then. And when you’re ready for the rest, I’ll be right here to listen.”

Tony takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I was born at Rosewood Manor,” he says quietly.

“That place outside of town?”

“Mmhmm. That’s my magic you probably saw guarding it.”

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony, that place looks like it hasn’t had anyone living there for fifteen years.”

“Over twenty actually. I was three when—when that happened.”

“You were three? And you had that kind of control?”

Tony laughs humorlessly. “Believe me, that night I had no control at all.” He falls silent. Bucky waits for more, but Tony seems to be done talking for tonight, so he turns his head and kisses the corner of Tony’s mouth instead.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says.

Tony grimaces. “Not like I told you much of anything.”

“You told me what you were comfortable with. Believe me, doll, after two years of nothing—”

“You keep doing that,” Tony interrupts. “Calling me doll.”

Bucky hesitates. “I thought you liked it when I did that.”

Tony looks away, a bitter twist to his mouth. “I left.”

“Yeah…”

“I left right after you kissed me because I was scared and couldn’t face up to what was going on between us even though I promised we’d talk.”

Bucky waits, sure that if he stays silent, Tony will explain further. It’s a trick that he’s used in the past and it’s always worked. Sure enough, after another couple moments:

“You know, I was so sure you were dating Steve? Let me finish please,” Tony says calmly, holding up a hand when Bucky opens his mouth. “You don’t know what it was like. I might have met Steve first but it was so clear that you two were a lot closer than I would ever be with him. So yes, I was convinced you two were dating and that I was alone in my feelings and when I found out I wasn’t, I panicked. I thought it was Tony Jarvis you liked, not—”

“I like you,” Bucky interrupts, unable to keep hearing Tony talk about how he’d thought Bucky wasn’t serious about him, when he thinks maybe it’s the only thing he’s ever been serious about. “I like you as Tony Jarvis, Tony Carbonell, Tony Stark, or just plain Tony.”

“Like?” Tony asks shyly.

Bucky grins and kisses the other corner of Tony’s mouth. “Do you think I would have kept searching for you for two years if I didn’t still like you?”

Tony leans back for a moment, searching his eyes for something before he eventually says, “And what about Tony Barnes?”

Bucky’s heart about stops. He wheezes out, “You—”

“It’s not—I needed a name when I came back to Ravenspoint. I didn’t want anyone to know who I was and it’s a small town. People know every other name I go by, but—I didn’t think you’d mind or I wouldn’t—”

Bucky can’t stop himself anymore. He frames Tony’s face in his hands and kisses him soundly. It’s closed-mouthed and chaste and it’s still the best damn kiss he’s ever had, next to the only other time he kissed Tony. Tony’s hands flutter in the air for a second before wrapping around Bucky’s waist, clutching him to him.

“I love you calling yourself by my name,” he says hoarsely, pulling away long enough to get the words out before he kisses Tony again. “And one day, I swear I’ll give you that name for real, forever and always.” This time, it’s Tony who whfigmenters and kisses him again, sucking Bucky’s tongue into his mouth as Bucky’s hands slide back into his hair to hold him right where he wants him.

“Wait,” Tony pants, struggling against Bucky’s grip to move away. Bucky lets him go reluctantly, gratified when Tony only moves a couple inches. “How did you find me?”

“Your magic,” Bucky tells him, trailing kisses across every inch of his face. “It’s been callin’ out to me since the day you left, leavin’ me a trail to follow.”

“Lucky me,” Tony whispers.

And as Bucky kisses him again, unable to resist for a single second, he thinks to himself, No. Lucky me.

[bebepac]

Ri-Liamo de Bergerac (Happy birthday Zoehanji )

Happy birthday @zoehanji​ !!!!!

Original Post date: 04/27/21 at 9:52PM EST  (4/28 where you are celebrating your birthday!!!) 

I have no idea when we started talking but we did, somewhere in the beginning of my writing journey on this site.  Even though I still consider myself to be a beginner here. Thank you for being my friend and being a fellow long distance cousin, as our relative in common would be Drama Whore!  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha   🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I hope you enjoy this.  I know that Fast Forward has always been one of your favorites.  

The Book:  TRH and Beyond

Pairing: Liam x Riley  /  Maxwell x Taylor  (Maxwell x F!OC)

Warnings:  Sexual Innuendo  and fluff. 

Word Count:  1889

Summary:  Maxwell and Taylor go on their first date.  Both are nervous and ask Liam and Riley for an assist.  

A/N:  This is a little similar version of Cyrano de Bergerac, not in the take that someone has a big nose, no one does, but the aspect of someone getting help in a conversation by using someone else’s words.  I did ask around to see if anyone had done something similar to this.  No one recalled of a similar story, so any similarities to anything currently on the fandom is completely unintentional.  

I also used @theworldofprompts  prompt: "All my life I've been searching for an answer as to where I belong. Then I met you and everything changed. You treated me like I deserved to be treated and you made me feel like I had a home. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you." which will appear in bold.  

Song inspiration for this.  I heard this song while i was desperately needing to calm down while i was listening to the calm station on my pandora and I came across this song and enjoyed it so, so here it is for you all to enjoy too. I feel like it has a little sweet nervous energy, but then the music builds like you’re getting used to being with someone. it’s truly a beautiful piece.  

First Love by Yiruma 

I don’t own rights to the music. But i’m quickly becoming a Yiruma fan.  Every song was amazing that i heard today and it had such a unique feel.  I could pick them when they started playing on pandora.  

Riley raised her eyebrow at Maxwell. She saw him pacing nervously as he kept glancing in Taylor's direction. Taylor was completely oblivious as she had her nose buried in a book she'd gotten from the estate library.

Finally Maxwell had psyched himself up. He walked over to Taylor sitting in the lawn chair next to her.

"Hey Softie."

Taylor put down her book, as did Ellie as she was sharing the oversized lounge chair in the sun with Taylor. Both lifted their sunglasses to their hair.  

"Lord Playlist?"

"So I was wondering if you want to have dinner tonight."

"Silly Uncle Maxwell, we eat dinner every night."  Ellie confirmed matter of factly.

"What Riley Jr. said."  Both Taylor and Ellie picked up their books again, sliding their glasses back to cover their eyes.

Riley laughed to herself.  Oh my God Taylor she thought. She is absolutely adorably clueless. 

Liam laughed softly.  He gently rubbed Riley's stomach.

"Aren't you glad we're married? We don't  have to do that."

"You were never like that."

Liam blushed.  "I felt like that when I talked to you the first time. I don't even remember what I said on the street to you. I was so dumbfounded by your beauty."

"You don't remember me being so awkward, Liam?"  

Liam shook his head. "You… were perfect, is all I remember, My Love."

A light blush hit Max's cheeks.  

"What I meant Softie, was you and me alone, away from the estate."

Taylor slowly lowered the book again, her eyes slowly meeting Maxwell’s.

"So like a date?"

"I mean date is a strong word, but it could be an accurate one. Two people dressed nicely eating food together at the same table. I mean I'm not opposed to the idea if you are."

"Auntie Taylor likes food, and to dress nicely. You should see Auntie Taylor's dress for the ball. I picked it!!!!!"

"Excuse me Miss Crown Princess read your book."

"So… whaddya say Softie? Dinner tonight?"

"Sure. Riley Jr. nailed it pretty much."  

"Great! I'll meet you out front at seven."

Great."

"I swear this baby likes to just sit in there and poke my bladder for fun." Riley tried to roll out of the lounge chair she was on. “A little help Liam?”

Liam immediately jumped up to assist Riley to her feet.  

"You just went thirty minutes ago."

"You tell your daughter that."

Liam affectionately rubbed her stomach, kneeling to plant a soft kiss on it.

"Little One be nice to Mommy. She has kept you safe all this time and we still have a few weeks to go. Let Mommy relax.."

Riley had stepped out of the lavatory only a few steps when Taylor descended on her like a ninja.

"Jesus Christ! Taylor you almost scared the crap out of me, and the way this baby has my bodily functions out of whack it could have legit happened!!!"

“Ew. Riley. Gross.  Another reason I won’t procreate.  Did you see, Maxwell asked me out!!!! On a date!!!!"

Riley laughed.  "Because he likes you, and you like him."

"What are we going to talk about alone?!?!"

"You guys talk, and you are texting back and forth all the time."

"We talk in a group Riley. All Me and Maxwell do via text is meme war each other."

“Huh?”

"Our whole texting conversation… nothing but memes!!!"

She swiped on Maxwell's conversation in her phone it was nothing but pictures.

"It's okay, I'll get an ear piece set  from Nico, and help you.”

“You’d do that for me?”  

“Of course I would.  Can’t have your first date with the guy you like nothing but uncomfortable dead air.”  

“Thanks Ri.  Can you keep this between us?”

“Sure! Do you need help picking an outfit for tonight?"

"Nope, with the outfit, you kind of already did when you gave me my new wardrobe. If I can’t pick from there, I’m truly an idiot."

Little did Riley and Taylor know Maxwell and Liam were having a similar conversation.

“Liam I didn’t think she would really say yes!!!  She said yes!!!! She said yes…..” 

Then it looked like the gravity of the situation crashed into him.  Maxwell looked like he was about to hyperventilate.  

“Calm down Maxwell.  Taylor likes you.  It’s easy to tell from the trained eye.  She lets down her guard around you.”  

“What are we going to talk about?  I can’t talk about peacocks all night.  Or Memes. She’ll think I'm a complete buffoon.   I don’t even have reservations anywhere.  I asked her on a nice date and I don’t even have reservations ANYWHERE!!!! What am i going to do?!?!?!

Liam grabbed Maxwell by the shoulders.  “Get a hold of yourself man!!!!  And take a breath, your face is turning blue.”  

Maxwell took a few cleansing breaths.  

“Don’t worry about the reservations, I can handle that.  It’s good you are friends with the King and Queen.  And for conversation I can got it.  I’ll get an earpiece from Bastien, and you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t tell Riley.  She still hasn’t let go about the fact of my baby hippo tattoo.”

“Nor will I thank you for reminding me of it.”  Liam laughed loudly.  

Maxwell and Taylor left on their date.   Both Liam and Riley made excuses to not be in the other’s company for the evening.  

Both Liam and Riley were pleasantly surprised being a whisper in someone’s ear how well the night was going.  Both couldn’t stop thinking about how natural the moments between the two of them felt, and how perfect they were for each other.  

“I can’t tell you enough Taylor how beautiful you look to me tonight.  And I know you’ve had trouble seeing yourself that way when it comes to that word. But you are Taylor.”  

She heard her sister softly gasp.   Tears filled Riley’s eyes.    

Tell him Thank you, and that you wanted to look nice…. For him.”

Taylor parroted her words.

Taylor starred at the menu. None of it was in English and she had no idea what any of it meant.

I wish I had your eyes right now Riley. Taylor thought.  

The conversation was sweet and romantic. It was the perfect date.   Maxwell reached across the table taking Taylor’s hand.  

“Would you like to dance?”

“Yes.”    

As they danced,  Taylor started relaxing in Maxwell’s arms.  

“You know I have a hard time sharing my emotions sometimes. All the time..”  

“I know. And that’s okay.  We can take this slow.  There’s no rush Softie.”  

This felt familiar to Liam..  Too familiar.  He knew those words…..her words.

Riley felt the same way but she couldn’t be sure.  

Both had gotten up from their desks to investigate to see what the other was up to.  

Taylor had never felt like a moment was so perfect and what Riley said, she really felt in her heart.

"All my life I've been searching for an answer as to where I belong. Then I met you and everything changed. You treated me like I deserved to be treated and you made me feel like I had a home. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."

“Riley?”  But she had the feeling, it wasn’t Maxwell’s question.

Taylor pulled away from Maxwell.

“Liam?”  

Liam and Riley stared at each other in the hallway.  

He touched her ear feeling her ear piece and she touched his, feeling the same. 

“I knew it was you.” They both said in unison.

“I could feel your heart Riley, through the words even though it wasn’t you saying them.”  

“I could feel you too.”  

From the earpieces they could hear Liam and Riley kissing and the sounds of commotion.

“Bedroom, now?”  Liam's voice deep, rumbling with desire and need.

“YES LIAM!" Riley cried out.

"OH GOD!" Taylor shrieked.

Both Maxwell and Taylor ripped out their earpieces.  

“Well that escalated quickly.”  Max cleared his throat looking at their earpieces that were laying on the table.  “Won’t be using those for the rest of the evening.” 

“Why did you think you needed help on the date Maxwell?”

“Because I’m awkward, when I’m around you.”  

“No you’re not.  You’re funny, and really nice.  I’m the awkward one. I don’t know how to do this normally.  I’ve never had a healthy romantic relationship before.”  

“That’s okay.  I haven’t been in many relationships before either.  We can learn together.”  

“So can I be honest with you?  I have no clue what the hell I ordered.  This place is nice but it’s too much for me.  I’m guessing it was Liam’s idea?  Can we go somewhere else?”

“I know just the place.”  

Maxwell and Taylor left that restaurant, and when they got to the second place, Taylor’s smile widened.  

“Now stop me Softie if you’ve ever heard this one,  a dashing noble wearing a squid tie with an affinity for peacocks, and a Queen of Cordonia lookalike walk into a bar…….”

Date one for Maxwell and Taylor part two was them dressed up like they were going to the ball, eating burgers and drinking cheap Cordonian Beer, playing pool.  And it was perfect.. For them.

No. Dead. Air.  Conversation flowed easily between the pair.

“Wow.  I can’t believe the earpiece stayed in.”  

“You don’t think they heard anything did they?”  

“I’m sure they probably took them out.”  

"Can I ask you something?"

He could hear the slight sadness in Riley's voice. "Sure, you can ask me anything."

"Do you think I'm cool?"

Liam laughed out loud but abruptly stopped when he saw the look on Riley's face.

"Of course you are Riley."

"Then why is Ellie my sister's shadow right now?  Why do I feel like she wants nothing to do with me?"

"Riley… it's not that. This pregnancy has been rough on you.  You know how active our children are, and how active you were with them. Even while you were pregnant.  Well….Taylor fills that spot  for what you aren't physically able to do right now. Before it was me. I think you notice it more now because it is her.. But yes, it is clear Ellie adores Taylor. They have bonded and really love each other. “

"It was just so hard when I came back from California  Liam. She hated me."

"She didn't. She loved you, and it was my doing that put a wedge between you and her. She was hurting Riley. I did that to her. Not you. I’m sorry for that."

“It’s okay Liam.”  

*^*^*^*^*^*  Breakfast next day *^*^*^*^*^*^*

“How was dinner last night Taylor?”  Riley asked.

“It was great.  We went for Burgers and beers.”  

“That’s nice.”  

Liam lightly cleared his throat.

“So……..”

“We didn’t hear anything.  We both ripped our ear pieces out when we heard where things were heading.”  

“Riley you’re about to pop, how is that even aerodynamically possible right now?!?!?!”  

“Oh it’s possible!”  Liam chuckled.  “God yes it’s possible.”

“Taylor it’s like when the amusement park is about to close and you want to get on your favorite ride one last time.  Even if you’ve had too much food and you’re full and you might throw up.  You got to get on that ride one more time.”

“You went to a carnival Mommy?”  

“No, she just went on a royal scepter ride. God did I say that out loud?”  Taylor slapped her hand over her mouth.

“Oh my God!!! Can we change the subject now please?”  Liam inquired, beads of sweat were forming on his face.    

“Yes please because this conversation went incredibly awkward!”

Riley laughed looking around the table.  The adults looked like they wanted to climb out of their skins and her children looked either confused or unaware of what was happening.

Tags in the Comments!!!

[a-d-curtis]

Incense

“Are you really that excited about this?” Katara asked, laughing at her husband, ‘the mighty Avatar’, and the giddy way he trotted next to her.

The two walked together hand in hand through the red-tapestried halls of the Firelord’s palace, Katara leading the way to this oft-visited location, navigating which corridors to take, effortlessly winding her way through the mammoth palace like it was a well worn path.  

As Aang turned his grey eyes upon her, Katara noted the way his eyes still shone with excitement as they did back when they were kids, even though the smile-lines beside his eyes stayed in more permanent creases now. “Well, I should say so!” he teased, “After you’ve withheld this little pleasure from me all of these years. Yes! Yes, I’m excited to finally be invited to join you!”

Katara stifled a laugh, the sound coming out more as a snort. “Really, Aang? Really?! I just never knew you wanted to come.”

“What?! Why would you think that I wouldn’t want to come?!”

“Well…” Katara began as they rounded the final corner and a woman in a red and gold robe opened the door to the room for them. “I guess I just never thought you would have any… interest in this particular thing.”

Aang looked affronted. “But you’ve come here with everyone else over the years, Katara! Mai, Sokka, even Zuko when he can relax long enough to take a break. You brought Kya even when she was just a little kid, and Bumi can’t seem to get enough!”

Katara turned toward her husband teasingly. “Well, they all, you know…” she rose up on her tiptoes and ran a hand over the smooth arch of her husband’s bald head as she finished, “have hair.” Her eyes laughed even when her mouth held it back.

Aang looked insulted. “Who says you need to have hair!?”

Katara couldn’t hold back her laugh anymore. “Well, it is a hair wash, Aang!”

Aang smirked at her, stroking his beard. “I have hair.”

Katara slapped him playfully across the chest. “You need it on your head, you doofus!”

Aang’s forehead creased as his puppy-dog eyes looked at her dolefully. “Well you took everyone else… I just felt left out.”

Katara laughed again shaking her head in baffled amusement. “All you had to do was tell me you wanted to come."

Aang smiled a flirtatious, one-sided grin. “I figured this was an exclusive ‘by invitation only’ activity.”

Katara laughed and linked her arm through the crook of Aang’s elbow, leading him further into the palace spa. With her other hand she gestured magnanimously “Well then, here you are! The very ‘exclusive’ Palace Hair Wash!”

Before them was a reception room with dimmed lights and a strong aroma of orchids.  The calming sound of trickling water could be traced to a fountain that fell from high on the back wall, running over a slanted stone slab carved in the shape of two flying dragons. At the bottom the water ran into a trench that split and continued down two small creeks lined with smoothed stones on either side of the room, creating a cheery trickling sound as it passed. Around the perimeter of the spa heavy red curtains hung covering the entrances to several smaller rooms. A few of the curtains were tied back with thick gold ropes revealing massage tables or big tubs of water within the lowly-lit rooms. In the center of the room stood an elaborately carved golden colored desk, with an elegant, overly made-up elderly woman sitting behind it.

As Katara and Aang approached the center desk, the woman stood with prim stiffness. The elderly woman bowed slightly in Fire Nation custom, the large, ornate black hairpiece on her head tipping forward, causing the beaded strings that hung from either side of her hairpiece to clink softly. “Master Katara, you come again,” she greets with formal curtness. Then turning towards Aang, “And you, Avatar,” her sharp golden eyes darting to his tattoos, her voice laced with cool decorum, “We are honored to have your presence among us.”

Aang bowed to her, replying with jovial warmth, “I’m happy to be here!”

Katara tipped her head to the woman, her voice a bit cooler than usual, “Thank you Madam Uriko. My husband and I have come for a hair wash.”

“Of course,” the woman responded with a smile restricted to just her red painted lips, her eyes still sharp. She waved her large sleeve once and a young woman in red robes rushed forward from where she had stood quietly at the back of the room. “As always,” Madam Uriko’s barbed voice spoke, her piercing eyes not leaving them, “we are at your service.”

As the young woman led Aang and Katara away, Aang glanced back over his shoulder toward Madam Uriko, and shivered. “Is it just me, or does she feel predatory somehow?” Aang asked Katara in a hushed whisper.

Katara leaned in towards Aang whispering, “Madam Uriko has been in charge of this place for decades. One of the old relics of an older time. She’s harmless, just still seeped in beliefs of Fire Nation supremacy. I think it hackles her that Zuko allows non-Fire Nation royalty to use the spa…”

Aang’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Katara guessed at what he was thinking. The two had lamented frequently together of how difficult it was to change the perceptions of those who had been raised on war propaganda. Their little band of child warriors had been able to stop the fighting almost overnight, but the perpetuation of racism, animosity and false-ideologies were much harder to eliminate.

Katara knew that Aang sorrowed, not only for his lost people and culture, but also for the way that even the memory of them had been defiled. Despite Zuko’s efforts to reform education in the Fire Nation to teach the Air Nomad genocide accurately, it was still common to encounter people who still believed the lies taught during the war. It churned Katara’s stomach to know that in 100 years of Fire Nation propaganda, the people had been taught that the Air Nomads were the aggressors, that they had been war-mongers and child-stealers, who swooped in on their flying creatures to slaughter parents and carry away the children of helpless villagers.

Katara still remembers the first time Aang had been called a baby-eater from a terrified old granny. They were in one of the more remote Fire Nation islands, when the old woman had run and swooped up her toddling grandson who had been watching Aang juggle leaves in an airball for a bunch of the local kids. They had still been kids back then, and Katara had confronted the woman, yelling passionately in defense of her boyfriend and the Air Nomads. But Aang had just turned and walked away. When Katara caught up to him, she had listened as Aang quietly recounted a seemingly unrelated story of trying to comfort his crying friend, Samten, when he’d accidentally stepped on a scorpi-beetle while playing airball. Aang told how the two of them had carefully scooped what was left of the tiny squished bug onto a pipa leaf, and performed their best approximation of the “Soaring of the Dead” ritual to send the soul of the scorpi-beetle on gentle breezes into his next life, praying for it to be a good life, full of freedom and enlightenment. Katara and Aang hadn’t talked about what the woman had called him, and he didn’t bring it up again. But Katara knew that the Air Nomads, the memory of whom Sozin and his children slandered, were real people to Aang. They were his culture and heritage, yes; but they were also individuals he had known.

The contrast of what the peaceful Air Nomads had been, and how they were remembered was devastatingly unfair.

In an effort to distract Aang from whatever thoughts he might be slipping into, and pull him back into the present, Katara decided to share a piece of juicy gossip. Pulling on their linked arms to bring Aang’s ear down closer to her, she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, “Rumor has it Madam Uriko was, um, very close, with Fire Lord Azulon.” The implication of her words caused Aang to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Katara continued, “She’s been working in this spa since she was a young woman, and has bragged to me more than once about how Lord Azulon used to come to her for ‘solace’ from his heavy duties as Fire Lord.”

Aang grimaced comically. And Katara laughed at his expression as she continued, “Madam Uriko is just one of those unchangeable parts of Fire Nation imperialism. I asked Zuko why he keeps her around, and he told me that she technically hasn’t done anything wrong (apart from being super creepy), so he can’t really get rid of her. Aaaand,” Katara dragged the word out with a smirk, “frankly I suspect Zuko is intimidated by her.”

Aang chuckled and chanced a glance back towards the woman again as their host untied the golden rope holding the curtain to their room open. The Madam’s narrowed golden gaze was still on them as the heavy red curtain fell across the doorway, obscuring her from view. “I can see why…” Aang said with a commiserating shudder.

Aang stood still a moment longer, before brightening excitedly, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he said enthusiastically, “Well! Lets bring on this famous hair wash!”

……………….

“So that’s when Zuko gave me that fancy hairbrush set. It was in retribution for the pocket lighters Sokka and I both got him for his birthday.”

Aang spoke from his place lying on the hair wash bed next to hers. Katara smiled as she opened one eye to glance his way, appreciating the large bubbly lather his spa worker had managed to lather on his baldhead. Katara had stifled a laugh at the woman’s expression when Aang had initially lain down, her hands hovering unsurely over his baldhead. But he had smiled affably up at her saying, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out” with a wink. Apparently she had figured it out, because Aang had spent the last twenty minutes sighing in pleasure at the experience.

“Well I really appreciated that gift from Zuko,” Katara said smugly as she closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling of the spa worker’s hands in her hair as she massaged her scalp and combed out her long tresses in the warm flowing water. “I still use that brush to this day. You’ve got to admit, even with a gag gift, Zuko gives quality.”

Aang chuckled from his place on the hair wash bed next to hers. “Oh absolutely. I kept one of the combs from that set for years, remember?”

Katara laughed again, “Oh yes, I remember. You kept it in your pocket for the sole purpose of pulling it out and combing your beard whenever Zuko was giving a serious speech.”

“I remember fondly the special way he’d glare whenever that comb came out!” Aang laughed jovially.

Katara turned her head to look at her husband again, who now had a warm folded washcloth over his eyes. Even so his hands still gestured animatedly while he talked, his spa worker needing to dodge an especially enthusiastic hand here or there.

Katara smiled as she settled back into her hair wash, sighing in relaxation. She really did love a good palace hair wash – the calm of the dimmed lights, the smell of the flower water and the oils they used in her hair, the sound of the warm water running over her scalp as the woman massaged the base of her neck – it was a little piece of heaven! It was fun to share it with Aang this time.

“Was that before or after Sokka gave Toph those dark glasses?” Katara asked lazily.

“Before, I think,” Aang replied as he sighed again, clearly relishing his ‘sans-hair-head-wash’.

Katara smiled. “Sokka had thought that would be so funny, giving our favorite Blind Bandit sunglasses. Little did he know that she would wear them proudly. Before long, nearly every police officer in Republic City owned a pair.”

Aang chucked. “But that wasn’t nearly as big a backfire as the time I gave a single chopstick to Zuko.”

“Remind me again how a single chopstick is a useless gift for a firebender?”

“Oh it wasn’t because he’s a firebender, Katara! It’s because a single chopstick is useless to anyone! … Or so I thought…” Aang said with chagrin, “But that was before Zuko handed the chopstick to Mai, who with a flick of her arm managed to skewer it securely in the cushion I was sitting on, squarely between my thighs!” Katara could hear the shudder in his voice. “That was before we’d had Tenzin, Katara! Do you know what that could have meant?! For an instant I’d thought that was the end of the Air Nomads for good!”

Katara snorted, knowing full well that Mai would have had that little threat in mind when she threw the chopstick. Although it had taken some time for Katara to warm up to Mai, she now fully appreciated the understated, off-kilter wit of the dark-humored Fire Lady.

“But I thought I had her the next time when I gave her a bag of bison-fur yarn-balls.” Katara could hear the irritation in Aang’s voice when he continued, “Who knew she could make even those hurt…?”

A small snicker had Katara glancing up at the woman washing her hair. Apparently their talking was amusing to those washing their hair; these women undoubtedly would have encountered Mai here as well, and perhaps could appreciate the image of their Fire Lady harassing the Avatar.

But the woman’s mirthful expression hurriedly returned to a professional neutral when the curtain opened and Madam Uriko entered.

The old woman moved gracefully as she stopped in front of the shrine at the front of the small room. Removing a small pressed incense cone from a pouch at her waist, Madam Uriko lit the cone with a small snap of her fingers. Katara was mildly surprised; she hadn’t known that Madam Uriko was a firebender.

“Well Sokka’s birthday is coming up soon, and I’ve got to get him something really useless.” Aang continued talking, probably unaware that Madam Uriko had entered the room.

Madam Uriko lifted the elaborately carved lid of a brass incense burner standing on three spindly legs on the shrine and placed the lit incense pellet inside. After replacing the lid and folding her hands delicately in front of her, Madam Uriko breathed deeply, firebending to coax the fragranced smoke out through the intricate pattern of holes in the lid.

Katara looked toward her husband, washcloth still over his eyes, still moving his hands dramatically as he continued to talk, maybe a bit too loudly. Madam Uriko sent a disdainful look his direction.

“And not useless like that art kit we gave him a few years back,” Aang continued. “I mean, he loved that gift! Sokka completely failed to see any of the irony we all saw when we got it for him…”

Katara decided to ignore the Madam and closed her eyes again, breathing deeply to take in the relaxing aroma of the incense. Katara loved this smell. “You could try finding one of those cloud reading books Aunt Wu used to tell the future…” Katara suggested.

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea, Katara! I’m sure he would— Wait!” Katara heard Aang’s hair washer gasp in surprise. Katara’s eyes sprung open to see Aang sitting up abruptly on the side of the bed, water running down his back from his wet head, the washcloth falling to the floor.

“What is that smell…?” Aang asked, an unexplained apprehension in his voice. Then pointing at the incense burner, he addressed the Madam. “What’s in that burner?”

“It’s incense, Master Avatar,” Madam Uriko said condescendingly. “Surely you’ve smelled incense before.”

Aang ignored her rudeness, and closed his eyes breathing in the scent deeply. His forehead furrowed slightly above his closed eyelids. Katara watched his expression carefully, troubled by her husband’s sudden intensity. Katara noticed Aang swallow thickly, this brows arching in… longing? Sadness? Why was Aang reacting this way?

“Sweetie?” Katara asked softly. But he ignored her, turning instead towards Madam Uriko with a sudden fire in his eyes.

“Where did you get that incense?!” Aang demanded of the woman.

“Get it?” the woman replied coolly, uncowed by Aang’s aggressive tone. “Why it comes from the spa’s private stores. We’ve been burning this incense here in the palace spa for generations. It was a favorite of Firelord Sozin. And of his son, Firelord Azulon.” Madam Uriko said the name like a caress.

Aang took another halted inhale before quickly standing and pushing past the woman, unceremoniously ripping the lid off the burner and tipping the burning cone into his hand. Katara watched his back stiffen visually.

Katara sat up, concerned, her hair washer reaching forward to wring her hair as best she could as water streamed down Katara’s back from her heavy wet hair. But Katara ignored it. “Aang?” she asked anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

Aang turned towards Madam Uriko, holding the cone up in his fingers. “How did this get here?!” He shook it once angrily at her. “This doesn’t belong here!”

Katara was unaccustomed to seeing Aang this heated. He was notoriously even-tempered, and almost never lost his cool. To see Aang this upset alarmed Katara. “Aang?!”

Aang finally turned his eyes toward his wife, anger burning behind them. “This belongs to the Air Nomads!” Aang declared furiously. “See!” Aang turned the cone over, revealing one air spiral symbol pressed into the bottom of the cone. Turning back towards Madam Uriko Aang’s voice nearly yelled, “You have no business having this!”

Madam Uriko stepped back, her expression now clearly daunted by Aang’s intensity. “I assure you, this comes from the palace stores…” she stammered, trying to keep her composure. “It’s been here from before I began working here… as a young woman… I assure you, we--”

Aang’s nose wrinkled in a snarl as he cut her off, “This belongs to the Air Nomads! This is… was… sacred to us!”

And with that Aang fisted the incense in his hand and stormed from the room, knocking the brass burner over with his arm and leaving everyone’s clothes rippling in a stiff wind left in his wake.

…………..

It was late when Katara finally heard the snap of Aang’s glider on the balcony of their guest room in the Fire Palace. The sun had set hours ago, and it was now late enough that the moon had nearly completed her arch across the sky and now hung low over the crest of the volcanic rim of the Caldera, sending her ghostly silver light sideways into their room.

Katara was lying in bed. But she hadn’t slept.

After Aang had stormed out of the Palace spa earlier this evening, Katara had run after him. But even as she had searched for Aang, Katara knew that trying to catch up with a fleeing airbender was futile. The best she could hope for would be to find him wherever he stopped.

Katara had checked with Appa first, but the bison was snoring lazily in his favorite place in the courtyard of the stables, undisturbed. Katara checked their room, the garden, and even the rooftop. No Aang. But Aang’s glider was gone, so Katara knew that the best she could do was wait for him to return.

Knowing this didn’t keep her from being irritated with her husband. And concerned, of course. Mostly concerned. Katara hadn’t seen Aang this upset in years, not since they were very young. She wondered what it was about the incense that had upset him enough to run like he was a child again?

She now lay quietly in their bed and waited as her husband crept noiselessly into their room, his footsteps silent. She watched his profile as he propped his staff carefully against the wall, and removed a satchel from his chest, setting it noiselessly on the ground. The moon’s iridescent glow was on his back, his face in shadow.

“Aang…?”

His shadow stilled.

“I’m sorry, Katara. I’d hoped you were asleep.”

Katara let out a breath from the darkness inside their room. Did he really think she could sleep without knowing where he was and that he was okay? Had twenty years of marriage taught him nothing?

Aang spoke softly from just inside the doorway, his face still in shadowy profile. “I’m sorry I left so rudely this evening. And I’m sorry it is so late…”

Katara wasn’t angry anymore, well not very angry anyway, mostly just concerned. His apologies were secondary to his wellbeing to her at the moment. But she didn’t say anything, sensing that he wasn’t finished.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to those women doing their jobs at the spa either. I’ll return tomorrow and apologize.”

Something in his voice told Katara that as sincere as his words were, there was a much heavier burden behind them. But he didn’t say anything more. Just stood there facing the darkness, the light of the moon highlighting the blue line on the back of his head, making it look almost silver.

“I just needed some time to… uh, to work through some things.” Aang finally turned towards her, the light now illuminating half of his face. Katara caught her breath at the sadness in expression. Despite the shimmering moonlight, no light danced in Aang’s eye as it usually did. Instead his eyes looked at her with a dark forlorn blackness.

“Oh Aang,” Katara murmured as she pushed the blankets off of her and swept over to him in the darkness, her bare feet cold on the polished floor. “I’ve just been worried. Where were you?”

“I, uh, flew north for a while. Found a small island. Really small. Almost all rocks. I just needed some space to, um… to…”

“Meditate?”

“… well… I did some of that too...” Aang looked down and to the side, a little sheepishly. “But I might have spent most of the time breaking things. Throwing around fire and rocks to cool off a bit.”

Aang looked at her penitently. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off. I shouldn’t have worried you.”

“Oh Aang, I don’t need anymore apologies.” Katara reached up with her warm hand to touch his face in concern. “But please, let me know how I can help you. Why were you so upset? Why do you look so…  so sad?”

Aang brought his hand up between them, opening to reveal the small incense cone from earlier lying benignly on his palm.

“This,” Aang spoke softly, his shoulders slumping, as though the burden of a nation weighed on him.

Katara swallowed a lump in her own throat, remembering that it did.

Katara reached forward, picking up the small pressed cone with her fingers. She ran the pad of her forefinger over the small air swirl stamped into the bottom of it before looking back up at him. “What is it Aang? You said it belonged to the Air Nomads?”

“Yes.” Aang’s brow creased and he took a steadying breath before he continued, trying to explain. “This incense is something I haven’t smelled in… well since before. But it’s a scent I will never forget. One I thought I would never smell again.”

Aang took the incense from Katara, and with a snap of his fingers a flare of yellow heat illuminated their faces for a moment as he lit the end of it. They both watched as a tiny stream of smoke began to trail upward in lazy loops, filling the space with the rich aroma of cedar resin and cardamom, and with a fragrance unnamed but potent, both light and substantial, like the air and the mountains themselves.

“This smell is unmistakable for me.” Aang said as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his brow softening in memory. “The monks lit this incense during the Ceremony of Mastership. I was wrapped in this scent for ten days while Master Dun and his assistants bestowed my tattoos. Breathing this incense helped fortify me through the, uh, difficult parts of the ceremony; it deepened my meditation.”

Aang swirled a hand lightly above the incense, airbending the smoke into an upward spiral, his eyes unfocused, drifting into the past. “Of course I knew the smell before I ever got my own tattoos. It was part of the ceremony we all participated in to unveil a newly tattooed Master Airbender. Wisps of it were often in the air of my childhood.” A small smile appeared on Aang’s cheek. “But that day… when I got my own tattoos… this smell meant belonging. It was completion. It was a connection to the spirit of Air itself, a bond I shared with all the other Masters.”

Katara watched her husband carefully, her heart throbbing with the pain of knowing that even Aang’s happiest memories were so often undercut with grief.

Aang let out a long breath, relaxing just a bit. “The tattooing ceremony was one of the most spiritual events in my life – back in a time when I knew nothing about being the Avatar; when my greatest aspiration in life was to be a monk, simple and at peace. I tasted that future that day, that peace.”

Katara ached as his shoulders sagged once more and he said quietly, “Of course it didn’t last…”

Aang sighed, looking down at the incense. “I thought this was lost, just like so many parts of my culture. I’m trying to be grateful to have this at all…”

He hesitated. So Katara prompted him, “But?”

“But sometimes I just miss them so much…”

Aang looked sadly into Katara’s eyes. “I would never want you to think that I’m not happy with our life together – I am! Our family, the kids, you in my life, is better than I could ever have asked for.”

Katara took his hand, “But that doesn’t change what you’ve lost, Sweetie. It doesn’t make it all better.”

Aang swallowed, and nodded. “Sometimes I forget. I don’t think about them for a while. Just live in the moment. It’s easier that way. Then it doesn’t hurt so much. I can just move on with my life. Sometimes I believe that I really have moved past it.” He smiled again, despite the wetness in his eyes. “Sometimes it feels like it was all a dream anyway, like my childhood was someone else’s… like maybe it wasn’t even real.”

Aang stood silently for a moment, before looking back down at the incense in his hand. “But when I smelled this today, it all came back to me in an instant. Like I was there again! And they were there, and we were worshipping and celebrating together.” Aang’s face crumpled in grief, his voice a whisper. “For a split second they were all alive again.”

Katara’s heart lurched for Aang, but before she could touch him Aang’s anguish suddenly turned to anger, his face scowling as his words cut out fiercely. “But who knew that all this time our ceremonial incense has been used as ambiance for our, our murderer’s bathhouse!?”

Katara took a surprised step back as Aang’s hand fisted tightly around the incense, his hand turning hotly to flame and crushing the little cone.

“That they used it as perfume for when they bedded their concubines!?”

The flame danced angrily in his eyes as he seethed.

But Aang extinguished the flame, letting it die as quickly as it had flared, the anger in his face dissipating with it, replaced by that same dark sadness.

“What does this,” Aang looked sadly down at the smoking ash in his hand, “teach us about about Sozin’s destruction of the Air Nomads?” A large tear rolled down Aang’s cheek as he closed his eyes tightly. “That apparently Sozin liked how we smelled when we burned.”

A sob caught in Katara’s throat as she scrubbed at the tears she hadn’t realized were falling down her own face. Katara pushed down her own temper that was threatening to flare. One thing she had learned over the course of their marriage, was that when one of them was struggling, the other needed to be strong. And she needed to be calm and strong if she was to help Aang today. Otherwise, she knew him, and he would feel the need to focus on her. But this was all about him right now.

She reached for Aang, wrapping her arms around him. After a moment, Aang grasped her tightly back, bowing his head to lay his chin over her shoulder.

He shook; and so did she. Crying together for the disgrace and tragedy and uselessness of it all.

“Oh Aang,” Katara whispered into his neck, compassion welling within her. She pulled him closer to her, even as a sob shuddering through his body as he gripped her, holding onto Katara as if to remind himself that not _everyone_was gone, he hadn’t lost it all.

“I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to hate them.”

Katara nodded against him. “I know, Aang.”

It’s easy to do nothing. It’s hard to forgive. Words that Aang had spoken to her long ago. And Aang didn’t just spout these words — he lived them. Katara had seen how Aang had chosen forgiveness, over and over again, even-- no especially-- when it was hard.

What many people mistakenly thought -- even herself, before the end of the war -- was that forgiveness came naturally for Aang, or that somehow it was easier for him. But after years of living with this good man, what she had come to learn is that forgiveness was only easier for him because he practiced it all the time. He believed it in, and worked at it everyday.

But sometimes it was still hard.

Katara held him tighter, telling him through her embrace that he is not alone, and that she is here. That she bears this burden with him.

Forgiveness was hard, but he didn’t have to do it alone.

……………

Katara inhaled deeply. She didn’t need to look around at the many smoking burners lining the back of the ceremonial hall to know that the incense was there. The smell was incredible! Enveloping the entire room in its fragrance like the embrace of a supportive friend.

It had been ten years since Aang had disconcertedly discovered that for generations the Fire Nation royalty had been using the Air Nomad’s sacred incense in their palace spa. Although Zuko, Aang and Katara had all tired their best to uncover how the royal family had gotten a hold of the incense in the first place, they were never able to find anything conclusive. Procurement of a conquered people’s incense was apparently not significant enough to merit any documentation.

However, with the help of a surprisingly accommodating Madam Uriko, they were able to study the remaining cones and records in the spa stores. Apparently the royal chandler during the early period of Azulon’s rule, had studied the incense himself, and written out his own recipe. It was likely that the modern cones in the spa had not been made by Air Nomads at all, but had been replicates made by chandler himself. Katara and Aang had wondered in length together about why the royal chandler would continue to include the air nomad symbol on the bottom of each incense cone he made – perhaps he had done it as his own small rebellion against the Fire Nation’s campaigns? Or perhaps he had wanted to keep record of the incense cultural roots? Or perhaps he had just done it to more authentically mimic the original? – there was no way to know. But Aang liked to think that perhaps the chandler had known an Air Nomad personally, perhaps had lost a friend, and maybe he included the symbol in memory of what was lost.  

The discovery of the chandler’s recipe had been an incredible find for Aang. He and the acolytes had worked hard to replicate the recipe, and now were fully capable of making their own incense. A scent Aang had thought was lost to time and tragedy, was now a viable part of the new Air Nation’s culture once again!

And now it was time to finally use it for its original purpose. Tenzin was being unveiled a Master Airbender today!

The anointment was a big day for Tenzin; big enough that Kya had delayed leaving on an extended trip she had planned, and Bumi had even taken leave from his service in the United Republic of Nations so he could be present.

However, important event or not, Katara had had to roll her eyes at her grown children’s antics. It seemed that the act of simply stepping foot back on Air Temple Island caused Bumi to reverted from ‘distinguished soldier’ to ‘annoying older brother’ instantly. Even though no one except Aang and his tattooing assistants had been allowed to see Tenzin since his Ceremony of Mastership had begun ten days previous, this hadn’t stopped Bumi from teasing Tenzin from through the closed door. He would gleefully call in suggestions to his dad about how to modify Tenzin’s tats to be a little more interesting. It didn’t help that Aang would flippantly play along, before seeming to remember that this was a sacred ceremony, and finally tell Bumi to get lost.

In addition to bothering his younger brother, Bumi had also taken to flirting with Kya’s girlfriend. While this was mildly amusing to Katara, it was seriously beginning to irritate Kya. Katara tried to remind Kya that Bumi flirted with everyone, while also sternly admonishing Bumi to cool it.

As much as Katara loved having everyone together again, she had to admit that keeping harmony in her small family of strong personalities was harder than it looked. Where was the docile, peacemaking child they so desperately needed? Whenever she would ask, Aang would only stifle a smile and raise his hands in surrender, jokingly claiming that he was not the one to blame for their children’s temperaments! And as exasperated as she might feel, Katara had to laugh at herself, knowing that he wasn’t wrong.

In preparation for the tattooing ceremony, Aang had called in two different tattoo artists – one from the earth kingdom and one from the fire nation, both reportedly the best tattooist in their perspective nations – to help teach Aang how to give Tenzin his tattoos. As Tenzin had neared the end of his training, Aang had admitted to Katara that just being ‘the Last Airbender’ didn’t automatically make him an expert on all Airbender skills. “Giving someone their tattoos is very different than being on the other side of the needle, Katara!” he had worried out loud. The closer Tenzin had gotten to mastership, the more nervous Aang got about how to bestow his tattoos. It was Katara who had suggested he ask for help.

After consulting with the tattoo experts, Aang had told Katara later that although their methods were different than what the Air Nomads had done over a hundred years ago, they seemed to understand enough of the process to take the details and tools he remembered and turn them into a working process. One of them even offered to give Tenzin his tattoos herself. Aang had declined, but expressed how grateful he was for to them for teaching him how.

The night before the commencement of Tenzin’s Ceremony of Mastership, Katara didn’t know who was more anxious: Tenzin or Aang? They were both bundles of nerves, but expressed their apprehension in characteristically different ways: Tenzin tried to hide his concern behind stoic meditation, while Aang couldn’t hold still, needing to “take a little run around the island” about ten times before bedtime.

When Aang had come in to bed the first night after beginning Tenzin’s tattoos, the smell of incense strong on his clothes and body, Katara had asked how it had gone. “I got better at it as the day went on.” Aang had replied. Then with a self-depreciating chuckle he added, “Hopefully nobody will look too closely at the back of Tenzin’s thigh…”

But the process had gone better from there, and ten days later, Katara now sat with Bumi and Kya on cushions near the front of the ceremonial room on Air Temple Island awaiting Tenzin’s anointing.

Katara was immensely proud of Tenzin, and all of his studious hard work. She knew he was aware of the burden he was born with, and in some ways she was sorry to have her son shouldering such a responsibility, but she was proud of the way he took it seriously. She knew Aang worried that Tenzin was ‘too serious’, but Katara, as a serious student of her own bending art, could not be more proud of his diligence and discipline.

Katara had often reflected on the irony that, of her three children, the one that was the least silly and carefree, the one who was a homebody with the seeming least amount of nomadic drive, was the one born with airbending. She’d wondered if perhaps it was meant to be; that airbending could be a way for Tenzin and his father to bond, when their personalities were so singularly opposite.

But as her mind wandered over these thoughts a hush fell over the audience, and she turned to see Aang and Tenzin, wearing a long hooded cloak, walk into the room and down the center aisle to the raised dais. Tears pricked at Katara’s eyes as the tall hooded form of her youngest son knelt reverently at the center of the stage. She looked at her husband, dressed in a formal yellow robe not unlike the one he had worn to Zuko’s coronation, and, catching his eye, noted that Aang’s eyes were also moist with emotion.

Katara cried for most of the ceremony. The image of Tenzin removing his hood to reveal a new blue arrow on his forehead brought a loud sob from her. Kya reached an arm over her shoulders, while Bumi refrained from being irreverent (which was more than Katara would have expected from him). From then on the rest of the ceremony was one big tear-clouded blur.

But the smell of the burning incense was potent and clear, and got even stronger as she felt it swirl around her, ruffling her clothes and inciting the song of the many wind chimes hung throughout the room.

Katara drank in the aroma carried on the wind. Despite the way the incense had found its way back to Aang, Katara couldn’t help but be grateful for this piece of Aang’s culture, of her family’s culture, that had been restored. Aang had admitted to Katara that although for a long time it had bothered him that his people’s sacred incense had been dishonored, he was grateful it had been. At least this way it had been preserved.

Katara breathed in deeply, taking in this scent that was both ancient and new. And something powerful stirred with in her.

Perhaps it was the power of the scent in the air, coupled with the way the wind chimes sang, but as Katara closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, she felt a spiritual tingling across her body, as though they were not alone. Like perhaps the energy of the Air Nomads, the ancestors of her children, were there and rejoicing with them as the first airbender in well over a hundred years, was anointed a Master.

…………….

A/N: I don’t know about you, but sometimes the smell of something can bring back very vivid memories/emotion for me. That was the genesis for this story.

(P.S. Also, I really do have a bald friend who loves getting hair washes. ;)

..................

Other works in this series:

Chant

Artifacts

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

for @bend-me-shape-me's spn advent calendar 2020. prompt: carols.

dedicated to @one-more-offbeat-anthem!! happy birthday <3

After Chuck's defeated, and Billie's gone, and the Empty has been bargained with (semantics, any of the Winchesters would say if you asked one of the four to elaborate) into returning Cas in exchange for eternal sleep, there's peace.

After they're done, and really done, there's time.

A moment to breathe, a minute to look at the clouds, and hours stretching endless, days on end, resonating with something resembling quiet.

And then, there's a guitar.

*

"Nope." Dean declares. "Never seen that thing in here before. And I once did Christmas inventory by myself, so I should know."

Sam snickers at Dean's cavalier tone. He'd been content to examine the instrument from a distance, unlike his brother, but that didn't mean he wasn't paying attention. "You had to do it yourself, Dean. Those were the exact words of the bet."

"I was drunk, and you hustled me!"

"You've known I play poker my entire life!"

"Well, yeah." Dean flashes his best shit-eating grin. "But you've sucked, your entire life, so —"

"— sure I have —"

"— your entire life has really just been a very long, very lame hustle!" Dean spreads his arms in a display of triumph. "And ergo, you hustled me into Christmas inventory-ing. The case is rested, your honor."

"That's not how you say —"

"Sam. Dean." Cas interjects, loud and exasperated. Sam shuts up immediately, eyes falling to his lap, while Dean exchanges a sheepish look with Cas (and Jack, who to his credit, seemed to be unaffected by the mini-feud. But that's less the part about him being God-Lite and more about him being himself. A kid who grew up watching his dads bicker endlessly and mostly, uneventfully, and has come to terms with it as a primary aspect of (at least, his) family.)

Cas, as usual, puts up with less of their crap. "Is this really necessary right now?"

Dean loves him for it, except when it's targeted at Dean and since that's kind of a lot, he isn't sure he loves it, or just loves Cas and generalises the things he does under the wider bracket of Cas.

"And if it's not," Cas goes on, using what is probably his I-led-garrisons-in-heaven voice, which automatically sends a shiver up Dean's spine. "Can we agree the guitar is, somehow, a recent addition and leave it at that?"

Sam nods slightly, apologetic. Dean just rolls his eyes, but it's a yes. (Everyone there knows it's a yes.)

"It's not cursed." Jack cuts in brightly. "Or out of the ordinary at all."

"So," Dean blinks. "We just happen to have an awesome new guitar show up, completely randomly, in this top secret Bunker no one know about, minus any ulterior motives or death curses?"

Jack grins. "Yes."

"Cool." Dean says immediately, and Sam huffs an amused laugh. He thinks he sees Cas smile as well, and a smirk grows on his face.

"Dibs."

*

Unsurprisingly, nobody counters his dibs, and Dean ends up taking the guitar to his room.

It's after a few days of insecurity, leading right into embarrassment, leading further to ignoring its existence, and further still to a mostly depressive array of memories — before it circles back to insecurity, and is about to repeat all over again, when he stops himself in his proverbial spiral, and decides to just friggin' do it.

That night, he picks up the pick.

Fiddles with it in his hands for a minute, and proceeds to abandon the idea again, because it does not feel right. Different shape, different weight.

And Dean Winchester's already enough of a misfit for this project, for his guitar pick to be a poor goddamn fit in his hand too.

But there's something about being so close that stirs up motivation in his heart, similar to the first day they found the damn thing, and next morning, he's out looking for a music shop in town.

That night, he finally plays.

It's uncertain — experimental — and he soon realizes why nobody ever says a damn thing about guitars when they say you never forget how to ride a bike.

But then, slowly, and really slowly at that, music seems to return to his fingers.

It isn't smooth by any chance, or even really accurate, but there's a faint tug in his brain that leads him to the next chord, and a twitch in his wrist that tells him when to strum, and he's awful, he's really friggin' awful, but even repeatedly saying so in his head refuses to dampen the overwhelming feeling that lights him up from the inside to start to feel like maybe he can play again. There's hope, and there's terrible, off-timed, broken music, and there's Dean in the middle of it, and maybe he can actually do this.

Recollection of how to play had come to his hands as they trembled, and tried, but the exhilaration of it, and the joy, only come back to his heart once he'd stopped, heart racing, adrenaline high, and unexplainable tears pricking his eyes.

Dean Winchester goes to bed that night, giddy in a way he hasn't been in years.

And outside his bedroom, his family of three exchange confused glances when the playing stopped abruptly, and then smiles when a sound that can only be said to bear semblance to a squeal, follows the silence.

(The first song Dean had played in over twenty five years had been Joy to the World.

It had also been the first song he'd ever learned — Cassie's choice, not his. Sam, Cas and Jack didn't know any of that. To them, it had just been a christmas carol. But there was also something so moving about that, soft in a way each of them knew Dean would fight against being, that they didn't realize they hadn't budged from Dean's door, long until faint snores replaced the quiet, and they left for their own beds, wordlessly already having decided on a plan for the next day.)

*

Cas knocks first on Dean's bedroom door, and all music immediately ceases. There's a yell from inside after ten seconds of a shuffling kind of silence.

"Yeah?"

"May I come in?" Cas asks.

Another pause.

Cas wonders worriedly if Sam and Jack were mistaken when they said that Cas had to be first, that he was their best shot at getting Dean to open up — the easiest past Dean's line of defense.

Then Dean says, a little quieter. "Yeah, sure."

Cas enters, gently closing the door behind himself before his eyes land on Dean — and he fights the urge to smile, because Dean hasn't kept away the guitar or anything. It's still on his lap, not in playing stance, with his arms folded over it — but he's not trying to hide it from Cas.

"Is everything okay?" Dean interrupts his reverie. Cas nods.

Neither of them say anything for a minute.

"Can I listen?"

Cas surprises himself with his own courage to ask — no twisted words or excuses to stay, just a simple question. Things were so rarely simple for them, but this wasn't a common occurrence either so it evened out.

"Y-yeah." Dean mutters.

Cas lights up.

"I suck, by the way." Dean adds, almost immediately. "But I'll suck less with time, I'm hoping. I mean, I'm supposed to, you know, but I — uh, I mean — maybe I —"

Cas realizes that he hadn't stopped smiling at Dean and that's what had made Dean falter, and he looks away, embarrassed.

"I'll just play, I guess." Dean manages smally, sounding as embarrassed as him.

"Please."

Dean clears his throat instead of playing.

"Yeah."

Cas can tell he's nervous. Even if he weren't good at, and very used to reading Dean, he could've gauged as much. And he wishes he had the right words, he really does, but he's aware a sincere speech of how much it means that Dean let him stay, and listen, would have the opposite effect of calming.

Then there's another knock on the door, and Cas relaxes.

"Dean?"

Sure enough, it's Jack.

Sam had explained how Dean was most likely, unfortunately, to deflect if he was there — "his denial fires up, Cas. I associate it with a parenting complex of some kind, and he just won't let go of it." — so the order had been decided as Cas, Jack and Sam. No overwhelming by arriving all three at once, or one after the other as if it were planned. No, they'd enter after some time, giving the previous person time to make Dean comfortable to them before the next enters.

Cas thinks it's a rather brilliant plan, and wonders if he should ask Sam to formulate a similar one to get Dean to open up about other things too. He doesn't, ultimately.

"Yeah?" Dean yells back.

"Have you seen Cas?"

That had been the plan.

"Yeah," Dean raises his voice to answer. "He, uh. He's right here. Come on in."

And Jack does, and eyes Cas with probably too much meaning (he means triumph) for Dean to not have noticed, before turning to the latter. "Oh. Were you about to play for Cas?"

Dean colors at that, his ears reddening almost instantly, and Cas files it away for pondering later.

"Can I be here too?"

And Dean's eyes widen a little — sign of anxiety, maybe understanding — and he licks his lips and then he nods. "I guess. I mean, okay, fine. But didn't you need Cas for something?" He adds, confused.

"I," Jack hesitates. Oh no, Cas thinks. Sam's prepared him for this, but Jack looks like he's about to, as Dean would say, wing it. And all-powerful or not, he knows his son is a terrible liar. "No, I just wanted to know if you'd seen him."

Dean narrows his eyes.

"Now I do know. That, uh, you've seen him." Jack braves on, determined to reach the bottom of the proverbial hole he'd dug for himself apparently. "So now, I don't need to know anything. Now I can stay."

Dean sighs.

"I can, right?"

There's a lightness in Dean's voice instead of tension when he says, "Yeah."

"Thank you." Jack says brightly, and all Cas can do is shake his head when Jack turns to him for feedback, and the both of them proceed to wear (nearly matching, but not on purpose) excited stares as they focus on Dean.

*

The final straw is when there's a third knock on the door, and Sam pokes his head in. One unconvincing "Where's everyone at?" later, he's joined Cas and Jack in staring with a unnecessary (and hopefully unintended) comfort-the-vic's-family smile at Dean.

God, he loves these dumbasses and would give his life for everyone present in the room, but none of them can act for shit.

It's glaringly obvious they've all respectively shown up to listen to him play.

Which is bullshit in itself, because Dean wasn't being modest when he told Cas he sucks — he does suck. But then, he doesn't think any of them would mind. Sam would probably unlock new levels of the puppy eyes if he knew how happy even playing awfully, made Dean. Jack would be blunt, of course, but undeterringly sweet. And Cas? He'd probably smile at him all the way through, just — that smile of his, that always seems to make time freeze and Dean's heart stutter.

So Dean decides magnanimously to not call them out.

Right away, anyway.

Instead, he turns to them with a question. "Any requests?"

(He can't play one of the only songs he remembers having learned without errors yet, so obviously asking for requests is the right way to go. But you see, once you've given up on impressing, it's only fair to see yourself to the end of the chaos.)

"Christmas carols." Jack answers before anyone else.

"It's May."

"Sam's," Jack swallows. Dean should really get on teaching the kid how to lie. "Sam's making me listen to carols."

"In May?" He asks his brother this time.

Sam shrugs, struggling to keep a diplomatic face.

"You're going to grow up to be the young adult who doesn't take off the Christmas lights in January." Dean informs Jack, who absorbs his words with all the seriousness Dean should have expected. "And, fine. We can do carols."

Cas speaks up. "Any carol you'd like, Dean."

"Nah," Dean shakes his head. "Jack requested it. We'll do what he says." And he insists to his conscience that he said so because he wants to make Jack happy, and not because he's well aware the kid isn't being subjected to carols by Sam in friggin' May, and probably doesn't know any.

"Oh." Jack's face falls. He looks at Sam in the most conspicuous way anyone's ever looked at anyone. "I —"

"Uhhuh?"

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!" Cas blurts, on behalf of Jack, and there's a two second gap where Sam facepalms and Jack exchanges a conspirational glance with Cas, and then Dean's throwing his head back and laughing.

And soon, Sam's joining in with an exasperated kind of chuckling as if he's gotten stuck in the wrong team but he doesn't regret a thing, and then Cas starts too, mostly from looking at Dean losing his shit (Dean strictly ignores thinking about that part and focuses on imprinting Cas's laugh to memory) and probably also because the ridiculosity of the entire situation probably struck him, and of course Jack's smiling at all of them, and it's, altogether, everything Dean could ever have wished for.

The evening ends with Dean playing Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer (of course) for at least an hour while consistently getting better at the repeating music, and although it's him humming under his breath (like he always has while playing) that starts it off, soon all of them are offering their own awful renditions to the chaos. Cas is off-key, Sam somehow manages to screw up the lyrics, and Jack is as flat as a friggin' plateau.

And it all comes together in a wholly unmelodious kind of awesome — to Dean the same way they say a mother's love comes through for an ugly child.

After Rudolph, it's Silent Night (another song Dean's learned, it hits him, once he's trying to find the right chord) and even Cas manages to look disappointed at the lyrics Sam and he come up with to make up for not knowing the real ones, and since Jack's never heard this one, he simply listens in rapt attention leaving Dean wondering if he probably ended up learning the wrong version on account of all his concentration.

And last of all, it's We Wish You A Merry Christmas, and Dean plays the chorus enough times that he's perfect at it, because for once, no one messes up the beat or the lyrics, and everyone has the most fun.

All in all, it's an evening to remember.

What Dean learns through it all is primarily the lesson that letting your family think they tricked you into having an audience is sometimes an excellent choice to make, and that things can be crap, but still be enjoyed. That doesn't mean he's not going to practice his ass off learning to play at least the choruses of the Led Zepp tracks he gifted Cas (the idea came to him in bed last night, and Cas has always sounded like he enjoyed them, okay?) so he can play them 'for Cas' as the kid so casually put — but then, some things are different from other things, just the way some love's different too.

And while some things are about efforts, and saying the words that scare you, others are about letting go, and singing carols in bright and sunny May.

The only thing Dean's sure about is that just about all of it comes down to being free.