#it is in fact asking an unreasonable amount of an adult man to ‘look past’ the fact that I look like a fucking TEENAGER

[francesderwent]

was told a couple months ago by one of my orthodontists that I’d most likely have my braces off by the end of the summer. asked another orthodontist today when he thought that would be. he said I have two or three months left to go, and then started me on rubber bands.

#so NOT ONLY will I STILL have braces when I go to the academic conference next month #I will have FREAKING rubber bands!!!!! #and that’s a fucking tragedy because it’s not like I have any fucking thing to be proud of when I walk into that world #nothing whatsofuckingever to show for the last hmmm SIX years #neither a degree nor a husband nor an obvious reason why not #but at least I could walk in and hold my head up and brazen my way through it with a smile! not anyfuckingmore #and ALSO there’s that guy my mom’s friend wants to set me up with #who I probably can’t avoid giving a definite answer to forever #but I would LOVE not to meet him until I don’t have braces!! #because when you’re being set up the whole fucking point is to figure out if you find each other attractive #not just physically! but we’re Catholics we believe in hylomorphism #so the body communicates the person #and so if you’re for instance four foot ten and you look like a child because you have MOTHERFUCKING BRACES #there is NOTHING attractive about that #it is in fact asking an unreasonable amount of an adult man to ‘look past’ the fact that I look like a fucking TEENAGER #it is in fact asking too much to expect someone to consider kissing me with my mouthful of stabby metal and unsanitary rubber #because we’re in our THIRTIES we’re supposed to be DONE with this shit #the vanity diaries

[internalsealpanic]

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary:  Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror.  Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there. 

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric. 

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap. 

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare. 

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more  concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure.  “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.”  You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction. 

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4  and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,”  you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look.  “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit. 

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,”  you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes.  “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that.  “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?” 

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app- 

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He  whispers an indiscernible  ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.  

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle. 

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine. 

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim. 

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow. 

You laugh, he’s sure this time. 

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click. 

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course. 

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you 

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right? 

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it.  There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass. 

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?” 

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging. 

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack  of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings. 

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else. 

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs. 

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming. 

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded.  He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo.   He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually. 

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta  keep it realistic, yanno?”  Steph and Duke keep bickering. 

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says,  clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm.  Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue. 

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor. 

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering. 

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.  

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush. 

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve. 

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is  louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a  wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile. 

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers. 

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck. 

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted. 

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?” 

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation.  Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge. 

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder. 

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed. 

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is. 

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right.  “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.  

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume. 

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face. 

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of  a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on  the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you.  “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this. 

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?" 

"No!" 

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick. 

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn. 

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass. 

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands)  at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child." 

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!" 

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair. 

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side. 

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle. 

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes. 

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest.  "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything. 

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced. 

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest.  You all follow his movements with interest. 

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head. 

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering. 

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be.  Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work. 

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn  from an irate Damian. 

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares.  Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.” 

“Why would you trust a clown?” 

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively. 

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently. 

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph.  Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests. 

 You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!” 

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses. 

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you.  “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers.  Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand.  “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests. 

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.” 

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs.  “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie. 

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head. 

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs. 

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner. 

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?" 

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes. 

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers. 

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad. 

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in  contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary." 

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn. 

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll  get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat." 

"Dick…" 

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?" 

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice. 

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd." 

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!" 

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES." 

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning. 

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests. 

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion." 

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick. 

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?" 

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers. 

"Chum, you're not even a teenager." 

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout. 

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol." 

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder. 

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.  

"That was one time, you assholes!" 

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?" 

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough. 

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!" 

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach." 

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one." 

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?" 

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off.  “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.” 

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her. 

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair. 

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”  

  Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake #batfamily x reader #batfam #reader insert #dc fanfiction #dc reader insert #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batman #batfamily headcanon #batboys

[serenasoutherlyns]

Not a Summer Crush Part Three

a/n: this one has some very fun special guests. bonus points for past calvak (s/o @storiesofsvu) in this one, and generally very fun cute pining. any feedback is forever appreciated!!!!!

Part Three

A week after you all had drinks, Rita Calhoun flew into Casey's office with a truly impressive amount of speed, banging the door against the wall, causing Casey to jump in her seat.

"Christ, Rita!" she said, catching her breath. Rita stared at Casey, like she was waiting for her to admit something. Casey had no clue what. "Can I help you with something?"

"Casey Marie Cabot Novak," Rita began. Oh God, not the whole full name, she thought.

"What did I do?" Casey asked, running her current cases over in her head, trying to come up with a place where she could've messed up. It was after the last jury of the day, and she was going over her usual end-of-the-day routine.

Rita closed her eyes and breathed. "Casey. Please tell me that you aren't having an affair with Caroline Haley."

That was not what Casey was expecting.

"What!?" Casey tried to say more things, but her brain was buzzing far too loudly. Where on earth had Rita gotten that idea?

"Don't play dumb with me Casey, just tell me, yes or no, are you sleeping with her."

"Literally, no? Absolutely not, obviously no, in no way am I having an affair with my junior colleague; and I resent your implication that I would, and I resent how you just barged in here and yelled at me."

Rita looked satisfied. Either she'd convinced her that she was telling the truth, or whatever authority she'd received this intel from was unreliable.

Casey continued in a more subdued tone of voice. "Who said I was sleeping with Caroline."

Rita took a deep breath. "Nobody did. I just guessed, and when all the pieces fell into place, I freaked out a bit." Casey looked at her. "I think the lady protests too much, though."

Usually, Casey would come back at her with an equally witty comment, correct Rita’s misquote, or, if she was feeling particularly flustered or tired, throw something. Instead, she sunk into her chair and hid her face in her hands, clearly distraught.

"Casey? What's wrong?" Rita asked, trying to pull her best approximation of sweetness out for her friend.

"You're right."

"I'm right you two are..."

"NO!" Casey almost yelled. "No," she reiterated quietly.

"What am I right about then?" Rita asked, somehow more confused than she was when she thought there was something illicit going on.

"I have feelings for her? I guess?"

"Oh, Casey. Did you tell Alex? I mean, it's pretty normal to be attracted to people other than your spouse..." Rita had taken a seat on her couch, obviously a bit uncomfortable with all this sharing of emotions.

Casey had progressed from the startled rage to a quiet sniffle, the kind one gets when they try to keep themself from crying.

"No," a sniff, "she told me."

"Alex noticed?"

"Alex brought it up. About a month ago."

"So, Alex is the one having an affair?" Casey dotted at her face with a tissue, collecting her composure.

"No, she isn't. Um, there's no good way to say it, but... We both wish we were, all having an affair, I guess? but we aren't?"

Rita whistled, a low bell noise. "That's... a situation for sure."

"It is."

"How did that conversation go? 'Hey babe, I like that new junior ADA, we should try to get her to be our third?'"

Casey scoffed. "No? We're not going to ask her out."

"Why not?" Casey just gave her a look, between incredulity and intrigue."I mean, you two are hot, she's gay, and literally nobody could turn you down."

"That's it though, isn't it? She's ten years younger than me, and we're kind of in charge of her at work. The power imbalance is less than ideal." Casey said, wistfully.

"You were sleeping with Mary Clark when you were 27," Rita said with a shrug.

Casey looked her in the eye. "How did you know that?"

---

Alex knocked very gently on Serena's office door. It was the end of the workday and Serena would be nearly done for the evening. A quiet "come in" came from inside, and Alex did.

Serena noticed something was wrong immediately. Alex always wondered how her friend was so perceptive.

"What's going on, Alex?" Serena asked, knowing that Alex didn't show up without texting unless something happened, in fact, she hardly ever made the trek uptown to her office space unannounced. She noticed a faraway look in Alex's eyes, saw her bite her lip, telltale signs that something was bothering her.

Alex closed the door behind her, leant against one of the comfy chairs in Serena's office. Alex always thought that if Serena wasn't such a good lawyer and passionate advocate, she should've been a therapist. Any space she was in was calm (really, she fit her name).

“Casey and I are, having a problem, I guess.”

Serena rose from behind her desk and met Alex, hugging her tightly. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” She let go, sat down, and motioned for Alex to do the same. “What kind of problem, Lex?”

Alex laced her fingers together and then tugged them apart. “It’s Caroline,” she began. “Haley,” she added, like Serena wouldn’t know who she was talking about.

Serena looked at her expecting her to go on. When she didn’t, she asked, “Is she ok?” Alex nodded. “What happened?” Alex’s expression turned more worried, she looked away from Serena. Not a good sign. Serena ventured a guess, hoping she wasn’t right. “Casey isn’t…” Alex shook her head. “Good.”

Serena paused, even more unwilling to imply what she was about to, “Are you?”

“God no,” Alex said, whispering. Serena wondered why Alex even came to her, knowing how self-reliant she was. So... If nobody is having an affair? Serena gave Alex one of her classic looks, that always made Alex feel like her mind was being read. Serena knows that it isn’t that, but it never fails to get her to talk. If nothing else, Alex hates silence.

Alex breathed deeply and tried to calm her hands. She flips the conversation over. “What do you think of her, Ser?” Serena waited a moment to answer, hoping that Alex would open up before she said anything, but seeing that would not be happening, Serena thought about her question.

“I think she’s a wonderful attorney,” she began, knowing full well that your legal prowess was not what was stressing Alex out. “She’s obviously really smart, um, she seems to care a lot about her friends... she’s really pretty, um, I like her, I guess? I don’t know her that well, Lex.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Serena looked at Alex again, as if to tell her that she was done talking for now. “Um, she’s,” Alex swallowed, took a sip from the travel mug she always carried, “unreasonably beautiful.”

Serena was taken aback at her friend’s choice of words, how she felt about the young attorney, yet, there was no affair happening, apparently. “Strong words. But, if neither of you are sleeping with her, what’s bothering you so much?”

Alex turned her gaze up towards the ceiling. “That neither of us is sleeping with her?”

Serena turned her eyebrows up, then narrowed her eyes, pushed her lips out, considering all the things that Alex could be implying as well as all the ways she could react. She opted for some humor, hoping to shock her friend out of her state. “All this over a threesome you haven’t had?”

It worked, and Alex gave her a thin laugh. “I guess so, yeah. Um, I don’t think either of us just want to have sex, though. I think it’s gone a little beyond that.”

Seeing Alex cheer up, Serena allowed herself to react more spontaneously. “Oh my god. You have a crush, and Casey has a crush.” Serena had an open mouthed expression on her face, the kind that would usually bother Alex when it’s at her expense.

Alex bit her lip into a sweet smile. “Casey’s pretty cute about it, too.”

“You should talk to her, Lex.” Serena said.

---

Ramin was sitting at the counter reading texts while you washed that night’s dinner dishes, drinking a glass of the basil lemonade you’d made (mixed with gin for the adults). Ramin could tell something had been bothering you all week, so he’d made your favorite for dinner, khoresh bademjan and rice (every time Ramin cooked, you thanked Ashley for having the sense to marry an Iranian man instead of the string of other French people he’d dated before him). You two had let Ashley go to bed early-- his company had a big premiere in a week that he was consumed by. The girls were long asleep. You danced around to the Googoosh album that Ramin had over the stereo, making him laugh with your dramatic interpretations of the violin lines. You got contemplative as you scrubbed a plate.

“Hey, Ram?” You asked as you stilled your feet and hands.

“Yeah, babes?” He replied, still looking at his phone.

“When you met Ashley, how did you know what you wanted, or that you wanted something with him?” You put the plate down, played with the sponge, turned around. Ramin bit his lip and looked at you. He turned down the music.

“I never like, made a conscious effort to decipher any of that. It was always very natural with him.”

“You never felt like, I don’t know, like, confused?”

Ramin shook his head. “No, no I didn’t. But Ash is so, uh, forthcoming,”

“Demanding,” you interrupted,

“I never had to guess with him,” he finished.

You nodded, picked up a pot to wash.

"Like, we were both single dads, so Léa wasn't an issue. And he never resented Lowell."

"People really did that?"

"You'd be surprised at how many people are jealous of a dead man," Ramin said, looking at the photo on the wall of his late husband with a newborn Léa. "Ash never was. And I just kinda, knew, you know?"

"I don’t, actually," you replied quietly. Ramin hummed.

"Why do you ask? You got a crush?"

You thought about outright denying it, going forward with your old strategy: deny your feelings until they disappear. But Ramin would know you were lying; and you were growing tired of pretending. Every wall that you'd built over the past few months knowing Casey and Alex started to crack. They wouldn't fall just yet. You shrugged noncommittally.

“Have you ever thought about what would happen if you met someone else?”

“God, I try not to.”

“No, like, someone you both want to, I don’t know, pursue.”

Ramin raised his eyebrows, took a sip of his drink. Smiled at you.

“Did someone ask you to have a threesome?”

Your cheeks burned and you held the pan up above your face. “No, but, ah, I think I want them to?”

Ramin’s jaw dropped, half natural reaction half exaggerated fascination. “Juicy,” he said.

“Pfft,” you replied to his teasing.

“Anyways, no I haven’t thought about that. I imagine it would be a lot of conversations and figuring out what everyone wanted. But also, like, I’m too old for that. And we have the girls and very busy jobs, I don’t think either of us has the mental or physical energy for that kind of thing,” said Ramin.

“You’re not that old.”

“I’m 35,” he said, lifting his shoulders and finishing his lemonade, motioning for you to get the pitcher back out of the fridge. He filled his glass again.

“You’re going to finish that before any of us get a second glass.” Ramin did not acknowledge your admonishment.

“I’m 35 and a widower with three kids. I think I get to call myself old.”

“Only because Ashley’s younger than you.”

“And you are a veritable infant.” Ramin retorted, eliciting a wounded look from you, then resolved to return to you. “So, who’re the lucky ladies?”

You groaned as you put away the sponge, the brush, the soap, and the dish towels. The kettle you had put on whistled. “Casey and Alex,” you replied with some effort not to explode at being genuine and sharing your feelings with a friend.

Ramin gave you a repeat of his earlier performance, except this time his jaw dropped in actual shock. “Lina!” He whisper-shouted, in the way one does when they’re trying not to wake up their daughters and grumpy husband. He whistled. “Did they ask you out?”

You bit your lip. “No. But, I wish they would?”

“You won’t get very far with wishing,” Ramin said, already having moved on to strategy, ever the analytical presence. “Also, you have to introduce me first.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” you said, teasingly, pouring the now-slightly cooled water from the kettle over a bag of mint tea and moving to the couch, Ramin following your lead.

“How hasn’t Ashley already told me all of this?” Ramin asked, citing Ashley’s famous inability to keep a secret.

“He doesn’t know,” you said.

Ramin nodded as he sipped his drink, then placed it on a coaster. “Probably smart.” He paused, got a mischievous look in his eyes. “I thought you didn’t do pining?”

You muffled a frustrated yell with a throw pillow.

---

"Mary told me," Rita said, "when you and I were involved," Casey gave a pained smile, remembering her first few years as an ADA in white collar, "she congratulated me, actually." Casey's eyes went blank. "I could've sworn I told you that then. What, Case, people talk about people. And she was right."

Casey let it be silent in her office for a moment. "OK, you knowing the details of my sexual past aside," she said, "what made you think I was having an affair?" She didn't want there to be any gossip around the office that could hurt you.

Rita took a second, looking very much the same as she did when she was preparing an argument in court. "Three things. You've been all jumpy and nervous, Alex has been spacey, and I mentioned you to Caroline and she got this enamored grin," Rita noticed Casey seemed surprised by her last point. "I realized as I was walking over to give you this, actually," she said, reaching into her messenger bag and producing a folded blue paper. "Sorry."

Casey sighed, reading the motion. Back to earth. "OK, Calhoun. See you later," she said, as good as shooing the lawyer from her office. They shared a quick hug before Rita left.

"Hey, Casey, if it matters, I think you should talk to her," Rita said as she left.

"I'll keep that in mind."

---

" I will," Alex said, "I have, kind of. Mostly to point out all the reasons it wouldn't work."

Serena considered. "What about all the reasons it would? I mean, you all get along well, your friends like her, it seems like it could be perfect, if you and Casey are on the same page?"

"The stakes are too high," said Alex, "what if she's not into us? What if it gets us in trouble at work, what would happen if we broke up with her? Or what if it breaks me and Casey up?" The last question she raised genuinely shook her up, Serena could tell.

"Those things are all bad, for sure," Serena replied. "I guess the question would be, is it scarier to find out or to never know?"

"I'm not sure. Hell, she probably wouldn't be into either of us, I mean, I'm 15 years older than her and we both have all kinds of baggage, it's kind of part of why we work; and she certainly must get lots of attention, I mean, she's beautiful," Alex stopped talking abruptly as she saw Serena's laughter. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," said Serena, "it's just that I haven't seen you this nervous about anybody besides Casey.

---

"What are you going to do about it?" Ramin asked you once the dramatics had passed.

"I mean," you said, "nothing? What is there to do about it? I can't pursue them, not without losing my job, so I'm going to have to just get over it."

"Or you could seduce them. Make use of your feminine wiles."

You rolled your eyes.

"Flirt," Ramin said, clarifying.

"Can one use their feminine wiles if all parties are women? I mean, aren't they just wiles?" You asked him.

"I don't know, you should find out," he said. Before you could get angry, he continued, "seriously. You should flirt with them, so they either know you're interested and they go for it, or they get too overwhelmed by how amazing you are and go for it in spite of themselves."

You looked at him. "Damn, Ram. For a guy who's only had three partners you really have some ideas about strategy."

He shrugged. "The worst that can happen is they don't respond to you, and then you know. Obviously, keep it appropriate and flirt with them both so it doesn't seem like you're trying to be a homewrecker."

"Maybe," you said, thinking.

---

#casey novak #alex cabot #calex #calex x reader #alex cabot x reader #casey novak x reader #svu fanfiction #svu fanfic #svu #fluff!! rita calhoun! #rita calhoun #serena southerlyn

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

So I'm actually torn between Emma and Silver for my favorite OC of yours. Emma has a special place in my heart cus of her dynamic with Oliver, which never fails to give me all the feelings in the world. She has such a unique backstory and I just love her a lot. But then there's Silver, who I fell for almost as soon as I saw him lol. My weakness for pretty men is well known, I think, and he's got that idealist streak I can't help but admire. Plus, I love Tevinter OCs on principle.

THANK YOU :D  Fair warning, I have a lot of feelings about these two so I’m gonna go completely off the rails here!!

I am so GLAD you like Emma’s backstory, and you know I have all kinds of feelings for her and Ollie’s friendship as well :’)  There’s enough difference between them that they don’t 1:1 EXACTLY understand the other’s trauma, but there’s enough similarity in the process of accepting and understanding what’s happened to them that they're uniquely suited to supporting each other, and honestly Emma needs that so much.  Her situation is a good bit muddier than it would be if she’d been made Tranquil by the Chantry, and she’s left with a lot of questions regarding how she’s supposed to feel about what’s happened to her.  How angry is she allowed to be that every formative emotional memory and experience from her childhood and adolescence was stolen from her, essentially murdering the person she would’ve been otherwise, given that the person who caused that didn’t intend any harm and was in fact trying to help her?  Is the person she is now worth having been through that?  Worth less than she would have been if she hadn’t?  Is cured Emma worth more than she was before being cured?  Was she cured, with all the pain and hard work that’s come with it, to honestly help her, or to make others more comfortable with her - to assuage Sala’s guilt over having done this to her in the first place, and Rémy Sparrow’s despair over his beloved daughter not loving him in return?  

It puts her on quite a journey, trying to marry her academic understanding of emotion and connection to others with what she herself thinks things like love and family really mean, learning how to want things for herself (really, how do you answer when someone asks you ‘but what does it mean to want something?’) and recognize and communicate when she does, and dealing with her crippling fear of loss.  In the end, I think the connections she allows herself to make, to her friends, to her LIs (who all highlight and strengthen different areas of growth in her), and how she chooses to relate to her biological father and half-brother as well as her adoptive fathers and her lovers’ families, all of this gives her the support she needs to be successful in that journey, and she’s all the better for it.  It’s incredibly interesting for me to consider her perspective and complications that arise from it, and her quirks are so much fun to figure out, too.  I’m so glad you like her :) <3

Silver under the cut ;)

and SILVER.  This man.  Oh my god.  I feel like I yell about him all the time, but I DON’T I just rave at @lavellanlove about him until kingdom come and don’t say ANYTHING in public, HAHA.  But like, I know I gave him an unreasonably pretty face, but there’s SO MUCH MORE about him that makes him really, really stiff competition for Lux for my Favest Fave.  He’s so incredibly generous and kind with all of himself and everything he has, to anyone who needs it, but is also a snarky, petty little shit.  He LIVES for this sweet dessert that is basically loukoumades but is otherwise super picky about eating well.  He believes intensely in body positivity and would never consider someone unattractive based on how they look.  He identifies as a man, but his gender expression is kind of all over the place and he doesn’t see any reason for it to be otherwise; he dresses the way he likes, regardless of whether his choices are considered traditionally ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine’.  He knows he’s hot, and he’s vain af about it.  He thinks magic and mages are trite and boring, but he uses subtle blood magic to do what’s more or less Jedi mind tricks to de-escalate tense situations - make people reconsider attacking his people or fail to notice them at all, that sort of thing - fueled only by a finger prick’s amount of his own blood, never anyone else’s, and never more than that because he’s squeamish as all hell and can’t stand the sight of much more than that.  He doesn’t know how to fight and doesn’t want to learn because he genuinely doesn’t want to hurt people, even if they pretty objectively deserve it.  He does things that are super brave even though he’s scared as fuck to do them, like standing up to defend others from rude patrons, his secret work to smuggle escaped slaves out of the Imperium, and accepting a seat on the Magisterium knowing he could make a huge difference there despite also knowing it puts a huge target on his back, and feels guilty about being scared and hesitant.  He’s privileged and he knows it, and he uses it to the advantage of those who aren’t rather than himself.  He has his own struggles dealing with his past and his family, his own grief and losses, and has a strong tendency to try to deal with all of that himself despite having lots of people who’d gladly help if they’d let him.  I’m not even going to get started on his relationship with Emma which is so interesting to me because how do you navigate meeting an adult sibling???  Especially when your adult sibling is HER and you’ve spent your whole life wanting siblings and now you somehow have to establish a relationship with someone whose reaction is ‘but why?’ that’s supposed to have been cultivated over your entire lives in a couple years??  And all of this from a character who was supposed to be a one-off mention in TSU and nothing else.  I love him so much, thanks for loving him too :)

#oc: emma sparrow #oc: silver #thank u friend :) #i love me some excuses to rant about my kiddos #and i'm so happy you love them enough to let me! #ourinquisitorialness

[kheta]

3 for 1 AU’s

Hikaru no Go shizz.

Three au’s I probably won’t write, but need to get the ideas out.

1) Sai a Paediatrician with Anxiety™ and Hikaru, who will pull him kicking and screaming into the world of Professional Go.

Featuring:

A) 23 year old Sai’s strict but loving family, who had pressured him into being a medical student, he tried to negotiate being a nursing student but they wouldn’t have it, so now he's doing his first year of work following graduation at the hospital his parents own shares in, because he likes helping families out. He’s passionate about his career and is happy enough to leave Go to the side. After all, Go is just a hobby, he’s not even that good, right? (WRONG! WRONG ON MANY ACCOUNTS!)

Sai learnt Go from his Uncle and was unreasonably obsessed with the game, studying kifu and tsumego for hours and going to Go salons when he had free time all his life. He’s never been as passionate as anything as he had been about Go, but succumbing to his parents pressure he gives up his dreams of playing Go professionally, instead dedicating his life to helping people and making his parents proud.

Hikaru is a 15 year old kid with a badly broken leg that he soundly ignored for much too long, which finds him in the very hospital that Sai is working in. Sai gets attached to Hikaru and because the kid can’t do much but play video games (on the console that everyone shared in the Play Room) and board games (that are mostly missing pieces and tattered) he finds himself drawn into playing Go with his Grandpa and Sai, the nice but whiny doctor who likes to hang around work and interact with the family’s there during his spare time. 

When he learns how to actually play and make sense of Go, Hikaru stops calling Sai nice, because the guy was an actual monster when it came to Go, soundly thrashing both children and adults unlucky enough to ask for a game, even his Shindou-go was reliant on the fact that his students saw what paths he’d create for them.

After a year in hospital and three surgeries later, Hikaru is out of hospital with the unfortunate news that he can no longer play soccer competitively, despite being other wise healthy. He then just slams himself into the world of Go, becoming just obsessed as Sai. 

Both Sai and his grandfather want him to consider going Pro, especially considering the improvements he’s made in a few short months, but he resolutely refuses, even when he becomes flushed with challenges on Net Go. His reasoning? He won’t become a pro unless Sai himself can honestly tell him that he’s happy with only playing Go in his spare time. If he’s happy with the few games he manages to play.

On the flip side of this verse, no one knows who the mysterious and infuriating hikaru is, nor do they know who he studied off of, after nearly 15 straight losses on Net Go however, hikaru suddenly starts winning more and more of his games, able to go toe to toe against some of the known Professional players online, even if he himself was obviously still learning the game. Yoshitaka Waya knows only one thing, whoever this brat is, he’s gonna regret the day he called him an ‘over aggressive know-it-all with poor defence.’  2) Hikaru the Soccer Player.

Hikaru is the cheerful, popular first string midfielder for his school’s soccer club, and Akari is their team manager. Together the duo have helped their middle school and high-school team reach the national winter soccer festivals three years in a row. Despite being a calm, calculated mid-fielder and being captain of his Middle School team, Hikaru has never been invited to any J.League tryouts, mostly because scouter’s say that he plays a relatively risk free game, with a low risk-low reward steadfastness that doesn’t reflect his competitive mentality.

Akari is one of the best managers at her school, an excited, cheerful girl who always knows what to say to bring her team out of a slump, matched with above average intelligence and insane training plans that her Coach is absolutely in love with, Akari’s love for the game was one born from her wish to understand her best friend that much more. In everything she does, Akari only hopes for the best for the boy she thinks of as her brother. After being voted as Vice-Captain for his school team, hitting a slump in his skills and nearly losing their team’s placing in the Summer tournament over the span of two weeks, Hikaru walks into a Go salon near his school to unwind, hoping to maybe win a few games like he did whenever he visited the Go club that Akari is also apart of. Unfortunately, he has the displeasure of running into one Ochi Kosuke there and while the other teen is surly, arrogant and infuriating, he’s undoubtedly a much better Go player. With the rest of his summer being amounted to three more soccer games and two one week training camps, one at the very beginning and one at the very end of summer, he finds almost half of his summer break is spent playing Go toe to toe with the arrogant teen.

In his hunger to win, Hikaru comes up with some unorthodox and risky Go plays to use against Ochi, plays that become integral to his team’s development as he finally utilises his analytical skills to their fullest capabilities, gaining the attention of some of the best under-19 clubs.

Meanwhile, Ochi knows that Hikaru is a famous soccer player at his High-School, but witnessing the insane improvements Hikaru makes in his Go skills in the span of one summer has him questioning if this teen really is just a soccer-idiot like the rumours say he is. After all, an idiot wouldn’t be able to lose against a Professional Go player at an even game with only a two moku difference. As he watches Hikaru improve, he has a faint, eerie desire for his (somewhat) friend to really take up his favoured game. Playing against Akira Touya has been what Ochi’s dreamed of for the past year he’s been a pro, but he can’t help but yearn for a true, all or nothing game against the jock who just won’t leave him alone. 

in other words, a sports anime fanfiction with a lil bit of go because soccer player Hikaru is an absolutely amazing trope lmao. 

lil fax about this au:

a) Ochi has a crush on Akari that only develops after he plays her in a game of Go, while she isn’t anywhere near as talented as her friend, she has three years more experience in the game and an uncanny intuition that makes her an amusing opponent. added to that she’s very pretty and since Ochi’s default emotion is crush them until it stops mattering, he manages to annoy the manager in a way only Hikaru has managed before. will this be a ship? no clue my dudes.

b) Sai is quietly alive, and is the neighbour to Hikaru’s grandfather, a sickly man who can rarely leave his house because of his frail constitution. After Hikaru coerces his grandfather into teaching him about Go following a week of straight losses against Ochi, Sai offers to teach the younger kid. Unfortunately Sai is no teacher and while he very much enjoys the game against the young teen, his only advice comes in the form of mercilessly ripping all of Hikaru’s strategies apart until Hikaru can pinpoint where exactly he first messed up and how he can recover from it.

c) Hikaru and Ochi become (begrudging) friends, only because Hikaru stubbornly refuses to stop bothering the other teen, if only until he can beat Ochi by a 8 moku difference, the same difference that Ochi had during their first game against each other. Ochi grouches and glares and puts his nose up, but is internally embarrassed at this new, affectionate and loud teen who always manages to say endearing stuff with a casual, relaxed face. (Who the heck says “One day I’ll catch you and force you to look only at me” with a serious face?????)

d) after discussing some plays in front of him and enthusiastically (on Hikaru’s side) teaching him the rules of soccer, Ochi offers valuable insight to the Hazeko soccer team. Akari hates it and hates him with a passion when she sees how good his analysis of the game is. It took her most of elementary and their first year of middle school to show any worthwhile game plays and he offers some barely two weeks into learning their plays? All the while with his nose in the air???? Hate.

e) before Shindou and Fujisaki showed up, Shindou with his swift observation skills and hard borne techniques and Akari with her spartan training methods, Haze High’s soccer club had little to no presence. With the two present and having just barely lost their semi-finals placing in the summer tournament, Hazeko returns to the Winter Kokuritsu determined to prove that their summer performance was no fluke. Now, if only they knew what the heck being stars meant and why Shindou suddenly developed a God Complex... Also who is the brat that Fujisaki is trying to crush and why the heck do they have to prove that with her guidance (re:torture) they’re better than that four-eyed brat? Why are first years so weird?

3) Akari the Pro and Hikaru who’s kinda just there until he very much isn’t 17 year old Fujisaki Akari leaves the Go world in an uproar after the former model enters the Pro exams as an outsider and wins with a spotless record.

Claiming to have started Go at 12, everyone in the Go world becomes curious about the young teen, especially when she manages to lose her Shodan match against Gosei-Ogata by a three moku difference. They all wonder the same thing, how did this model get so good and if she has been playing Go casually for five years, then why is it only now that she’s decided to become a Professional? At the peak of her modelling carer?

Inversely, Akari became a Professional Go player to honour her late mentor Sai, a kind neighbour who taught her and Hikaru to play Go while babysitting them for a week when the two were 12, despite them both thinking it an old man’s game, the competitive kids continued playing the game hoping only to defeat their teacher, who urged them to continue on the pro path after discovering that the two were great students.

The duo entered their middle school Go club and by their second and third year, they managed to win against Kaio, the best middle school Go club in Tokyo.

At 14, Akari loses interest in the game having never won against Sai and losing against Hikaru for the better part of the year, and she can’t help but feel like Hikaru will leave her behind when he considers becoming an Insei. Then, the unthinkable happens, Sai passes away while playing against the duo.

For the next year neither teen speak of Go, hanging out like normal until Akari gets offered a modelling contract that keeps her from school and in extension keeps her away from her childhood friend and Hikaru starts hanging out with delinquents.

Fed up with Hikaru distancing himself and finally realising that he was leaving her behind like she had feared years ago, Akari slowly begins to play Go again, relearning the game as she went to Go salon’s and using her old NetGo account. After nearly a year of being reacquainted with the game, she takes the pro exams with only one thing in mind, to play the coveted Kami no itte that her mentor sought after. If she’s already lost two of her closest people, then she’d learn to love the game that she used to fear, to keep the one thing that still tied them together, their style of Go.

plot points:

a) Sai was an up and coming former professional who was one win away from gaining his first title, Kisei, when a politician accused him of money laundering and fixing his students games. with this scandal, his students abandon him hurt because they assumed he didn’t have faith in their Go abilities and his opponents no longer face him with their all or with respect, thinking him a cheater and a disgrace to the Go community. after a win in the Kisei tournament that he knows was gained because his opponent was distracted by the rumours, Sai ceases to play Go competitively, having given up on his family’s approval and name for the game and lost seemingly everything that made the game worthwhile. He meets Hikaru and Akari almost nine years later, despite his personal misgivings and anxieties, he finds himself entranced with these young, talented children, gaining a lost love for Go.

b) At 29, a random park visit with the kids prompts him to face Touya-Meijin, who had been at the park playing a game against his student. Faced by his old rival who had continued to soar in the Go community years after his departure, Sai plays what he announces to be the most beautiful game he’s ever played. The two battle it out on the board for nearly three hours, when Sai finally beats the Meijin by a half a moku difference. Only three people in the world viewed this match, though the Kifu became sought after and studied long after it happened. The viewers? Ogata Seiji, Fujisaki Akari and Shindou Hikaru. Ogata has no clue what happened to the bright, but fearsome child who accompanied the strange Sai and bulldozed his way into the post match discussion, but he knows that where ever Fujisaki wondered, her friend would no doubt follow, no one that talented and that enthusiastic about Go could ever truly give it up.

c) Akira has no clue who this Fujisaki is, having not payed much attention to the Professional Exams considering his own preoccupation in the Honinbou tournament, but when he sees her kifu he has only one question, who is her mentor and is it the elusive man who managed to convince his father to give up his titles and become an amateur? If so, where is that mentor now? And how can Akira convince them to face him on the Goban?

d) Hikaru just wants people to stop spreading rumours about him and Akari, because the buddying model really doesn’t need all the flack people give them. If it means distancing himself to save her reputation, then he doesn’t care, ‘cause hell if he’s gonna let people be convinced their dating and it’s gross that those rumours even exist. It comes as a shock then, when after a campaign that makes her the face of popularised clothing franchise and a new perfume scent made for her, she decides to quit modelling and forces her way into the Go world, against her agency and her parents wishes. Watching his best friend take the Go world by storm, Hikaru can’t help but be angry at Akari for taking up Go again, all the while aching for the game he used to play and wondering, if maybe, Sai would be okay with him playing their game without him. Is it truly okay to play Go without Sai? And if so, when can he trounce Akari? Because she’s gonna get an ego if only upper-dan’s could beat her, and no way was she allowed to be better than him in the game! He refuses! Now if only he could remember how to get good at reading other people’s hands again, because now he could barely read ten moves into a game before getting lost. Also, why didn’t they play good stones like Akari and Sai? Everyone kept playing shitty stones and he can’t read their moves if they use such sloppy hands, jeez!

e) Waya has no clue who Shindou Hikaru is, or why he’s convinced he can beat the newest prodigy Fujisaki Akari when he plays like a clumsy beginner, but he’s determined to keep playing the fascinating teen, especially when he reveals his NetGo nick to be hikaru, a player who dominated the NetGo server nearly four and a half years ago and who hadn’t been seen since a year after he started playing. While Shindou definitely has some untapped potential, he can’t help but wonder why the teen can’t play with the breathtaking speed and monstrous traps like he used to.

f) Hikaru and Akari made each other’s NetGo accounts bc they’re brats like that, so Hikaru’s name is hikaru because Akari couldn’t think of anything else and it wasn’t taken and Akari’s is Fuji-Brat, because Hikaru is an ass like that, a lot of Go players would watch as the two matched each other stone for stone, surprised by how little these mouthy kids knew about the pro world, despite playing at insei level.

g) Sai just doesn’t mention things about the pro world bc he’s used to not talking about it and so, when Akari and Hikaru enter the professional Go world, they’re clueless about everything. They have no clue what dan is, but they know what a Title is, even if they only know the name of two of the titles and they still sometimes forget about the timer and why do they need oteai matches so often, also aren’t those creepy old men kinda weird, i don’t care if they’re important they’re staring and that’s rude/annoying. The Go world is predictably affronted by the duo’s lack of knowledge and it’s the cause of a few minor problems and scandals.

#hikago #hikaru no go #fujiwara no sai #shindou hikaru #touya akira #yoshitaka waya #fujisaki akari #kosuke ochi #touya kouyou #touya akiko #shindou mitsuko #hikaru no go au #hikaru no go fanfiction #we hyperfixating #can u tell i work in a hospital lmao #a lot of my au's have a living or dead sai bc ghost sai makes me Uncomfortable™ #lmao to being raised spiritually aware #ive made them 16 in all these aus so they can be in the hokuto cup and bc in my experience sports is more competitive in high school #maybe trash dump #maybe for when i don't have writers block #also friends ochi and hikaru is funny as shit bc ochi would hate it but he'd secretly dig having a friend lmao

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

🎻🔮🌷 . How've you been?

(I’ve been doing much better lately!)

send 3 emojis to my askbox and I’ll come up with a story premise/plot based on them

emojis used: violin, crystal ball, tulip 

~

Enjoy reading my original writing? Consider buying me a coffee on Ko-Fi under the name ibelieveinahappilyeverafter to keep more stories coming!

~

Title: Thrice Around and Thrice Again

Rating: Young Adult

Summary: Adrina is a simple cottage witch with regrettable friends whomake poor decisions. Unfortunately for her, one of those poor decisions comesright to her door. 

~

Ragged, freshly pluckedtulip petals slipping through her fingers, Adrina watched carefully as theseven petals floated down to rest in her mortar. A quick search and riflingthrough glass bottles that knocked together and tinkled pleasantly faded off asa vial of spring water was added next, a soft murmur mixing with the grind ofthe mortar and pestle, “Let’s see… Tulip petals, spring water, and… Ah, St.John’s Wort!” 

A quick addition andsoon everything was ground down into a smooth, pleasant-smelling paste thatAdrina took in with a soft sigh. “What do you think, Bastille? Thinks it’s readyfor Mrs. Basil and her impeccable taste?” 

A quiet, warbling meowanswered her, Adrina glancing down to where Bastille, formly nothing more thana starved, stray black cat, crawled up her desk before standing on his backlegs and wobbling. Adrina threw out her arm to stable him, laughing as his armshooked around her own as he looked at the paste curiously. 

“What a silly kitty,”Adrina teased, leaning over to brush a kiss against his head. “You know, if itweren’t for me making you my familiar, you would look quite terrifying likethis.” As it was, familiars always took on human qualities - whether by choiceor by magic. Bastille was still a bundle of purring softness, but he could nowat least walk on his back legs, overall shape of his body more like a youngtoddler than that of a cat trying to balance. “Well? What do you think?”

Bastille burst intopurring, Adrina laughing as she moved to begin bottling up the paste. Itwouldn’t cure Mrs. Basil of her joint pain anytime soon, but it would help easethe pain for a couple of moons. 

Whispering a few softwords and whistling a soft pink mist into the bottle, Adrina screwed a lid ontothe bottle and set it aside to be delivered soon. Settling into the familiarroutine of cleaning up her work bench, Adrina soon found herself humming,sweeping from one end of the floor to the other as she twirled in herskirts. 

It wasn’t until she wasconscious of the fact she was humming along to a violin’s sweet, trillingmelody that she felt herself trail to a stop. She then snapped her gaze to thedoor with a swear and a hiss of, “Sundrid.”

A look back to herfamiliar showed he was making small noises to match the melody, twirling aroundon her desk. She felt her anger grow because charming her was one thing, butcharming her familiar was another. 

Sucking in a breath andwhistling long and low, Adrina closed her eyes and listened to the echo thatdrifted around her small home, bouncing off the walls and slipping out throughthe open windows. A second later and she heard Bastille’s unhappy grumbles anda familiar voice swearing.

Stomping to her door,Adrina jerked it open, glaring right at the brightly dressed man in front ofher who had been fumbling with his violin with a frown. When he looked up,Adrina was pleased to see him pale before throwing on a bright smile that shonewith fear. Good. 

“Adrina, my beautifulflower! You look so lovely today! Have you done something new to your hair?That bright, lovely red shines like the sun and reflects your bright and fierynature-”

“None of your trickstoday, Wordsmith!” Adrina yelled at him, tempted to grab one of her boots bythe door and throw it at him. “The last time your presence darkened my doorstepI had to deal with a colony of drakes!”

“Ah, but what a fineadventure it was!” Sundrid, with sleek, tousled brown hair, brown eyes thatshone like captured sunlight, and a crooked smile that showed off a sharpincisor was charming enough to get his way in whatever he wished. Adrina hatedhim for it. “You, me, a couple of brave adventures, and quite a hefty reward-”

“I knew it!” Adrinathrew her hands up, stalking out into the grass and shoving a finger againstSundrid’s chest. “Don’t you think for one second that I’m going onanother mad adventure with you when I’m still recovering from the last one.”

Sundrid sighed,returning his violin to his case proper and taking her hand softly, eyeslooking into her own, “Dearest Adrina, I never meant to cause you harm. Theinjuries that befall you were ones I could not have planned for. I dideverything I could-”

Jerking her hand back,Adrina shoved it over his mouth to shut him up. She then took a few seconds toremind herself that murder was not something that was in her creed, but oh, howshe wished it was. She gave herself just enough time to not want tostrangle him before she spoke again after removing her hand. “How much thistime?”

“Ten thousand with thepossibility of a bonus depending on how quick we are about the matter.” Tenthousand. Ten thousand- Adrina could move anywhere with that amount!With a quarter of that amount! It was suspicious. It was too suspicious.

“What trouble have youfound now?” Adrina asked softly, eyes narrowed as Sundrid broke eye contact andlooked away and there. There was the twist. “Tell me you didn’t agree toanything foolish.”

“Of course not!” Sundridcrossed his arms, drew himself up, and gave one of his crooked grins thatAdrina rolled her eyes at. “I took on a quest that will make us legends.”Oh. Oh, no. It was this line of thought again. 

Adrina took a steadybreath, remembering that she loved the horrid, vile creature in front of her asa brother and had since childhood. “Sundrid. If this is about a dragon-”

“It’s about a dragon!”No. No. “Specifically, it’s about rescuing a princess from adragon- Adrina?”

Adrina scooped Bastilleup from the doorway, holding him close as she slammed the door shut, closingher eyes and sighing as she heard no less than six things hit the ground.Looking down to Bastille, Adrina asked a soft, “What do you think? Am I beingunreasonable?”

Bastille looked up ather, half-climbing over her shoulder and looking at the door before hissing.Adrina chuckled, setting him down gently and, right. Back to work. She had actualwork to do. Not- Not some quest. Witches like her did not goon quests. 

Picking up the few itemsthat had fallen, Adrina paused at the old, tarnished crystal ball that hadrolled into a patch of soft sunlight. Picking it up before any damage could bedone, Adrina paused as she saw a glimmer from the fractured pieces of crystalinside, reflecting a million possibilities and oh… Now that wasinteresting. 

Settling the relic downon her table gently, Adrina turned back to the door and stared before sighingand marching over to snap it back open. Sundrid, as she expected, was moroselysitting in the grass and pouting. 

Not stopping until shewas right in front of him and he was looking terrified, Adrina stared down athim. “Sixty percent. Take it or-”

“I’ll take it!” Sundridwas already up and clutching her hands and spinning her around, Adrina makingsure to not dare laugh or smile even as amusement curled around herheart. 

If nothing else, she had a feeling this questwas going to be interesting.

#short story #fantasy #witches #creative writing #everafterasks #my writing #original #ask game #everafterprompts #Anonymous

[kateyandthecloset]

Sect Bound . Aaron Hotchner [2.4]

Request . Prompts . Masterlist . Sect Bound

Annabel Bradey was falling asleep in the passenger seat of the Bureau issued SUV, despite the countless mugs of coffee she had drunk since the afternoon had turned to evening. In a single day, the woman had consumed more caffeine than she had in the rest of her lifetime put together, and still she had run out of energy. It had begun in the precinct, her eyelids growing heavy while words from the case file began to blur together. She had spent almost half an hour reading over a single line, trying to blink back the veil that seemed to cover her eyes. Unbeknown to Annabel, the rest of the team had begun to feel the same way, and the Unit Chief has noticed.

That was why the team were crossing the city in convoy, Annabel watching out the window as the people of Bristol continued to go about their evenings as if nothing was wrong. Surprisingly, they had managed to keep the media quiet, but the ginger began to wonder if that was a wise idea. The amount of twenty year old blondes they had passed, wondering the city alone, caused her to begin to feel panicked. There would be another family for her to talk to the next day; they hadn't caught him, so it was inevitable.

Without looking away from the streets, Annabel began to wonder if that was why Aaron didn't smile much at work. She had been shocked by how little the man let his joy become apparent on his face around his work colleagues every time she had spent the day in his office. Now, as she felt the knowledge that they had potentially let another woman die, she understood him. Even as Emily made a joke about her finally sleeping in a proper bed, Annabel didn't want to smile or laugh. She didn't feel she had the right.

The moment they entered the hotel, the Spencer and Derek collected the keys to their twin room, while the rest of the team stood in silent contemplation. David's eyes gaze met Emily's as they both tried to discern, simple from facial expressions, how they would be pairing. In all their past cases, it had been custom for David and Aaron to bunk together while Emily paired with Jennifer or, as had been the way for the last couple of cases, taken a room by herself. However, Annie and Aaron were a different situation.

Noticing the prolonged silence, and Emily holding the two room keys in her hand as she moved to look between the two adults in question, Aaron stated, "I'll share with Dave, so Annie you'll be with Prentiss."

The ginger nodded her head, smiling towards Emily who was trying not to display her joy in not being paired with David. While he was a close friend, and she was completely comfortable sharing with him, the senior agent had a tendency to snore so much that she lost the ability to sleep. Not saying anything more, Emily walked towards the elevator, the rest of the agents, and Annabel, following her.

However, before they could even enter the elevator, Annabel froze, her breath quickening slightly as she started ahead of her. The cold, metal box had taken her by surprise, since she could remember she had always taken the stairs. Being in the enclosed space, that relied on complex physics and engineering to keep it functional, caused her immense discomfort. Though, it wasn't unreasonable, she had spent almost six hours trapped in an elevator when she had been a child, and she had waited as maintenance tried to make repairs. When she had managed to leave the confinement, she had sworn, unless utterly necessary, she would not take the elevator again.

She wasn't about to break her promise to herself, "Which floor are we on, Emily?"

"Six," the brunette answered, holding the elevator for the newest team member. "You coming?"

Glancing towards the stairs, then to the heeled boots she had been wearing all day, Annabel sighed, shaking her head as she said, "I'm going to take the stairs, I'll meet you up there."

The woman took off down the hall, holding her go bag tightly in her hands. Not turning back, she continued, on search for the stairs, unaware of the man following her steps attempting to catch up with her. Annabel was annoyed at herself, having let her life be dictated by fear once more, yet this time she was also unimpressed that she had let her new team see her weakness.

She jumped slightly as Aaron took a space beside her, saying, "Is everything good?"

"Yeah, just can't use the lift." Annabel explained, turning into the stair well. "Well, and these shoes are killing me."

Aaron let a small laugh leave his mouth as the woman pulled the heels from her feet, holding them in her hands as she walked up the stairs her odd socks out for the whole room to see. Her habit had become seemingly contagious in the Hotchner house, Jack now refusing to wear anything but miss matched socks. They young boy wanted to match Annabel in any way possible, and while it made Aaron happy to see him connecting with someone - in a way similar to how he had to his mother - it also made him weary of how Jack would react if she were ever to leave.

"Have you called Jessica today?" Annabel asked, looking to the Unit Chief, pulling him from his thoughts. He nodded his head, following her up the flight of stairs. "How are they?"

"They are good," Aaron explained, causing Annabel to smile at him. "Jack asked about you, but you were speaking to Kara's Fiancé, I said you'd call tomorrow if you could."

She thanked him silently, slowing her pace to let him catch up with her, "I asked Penelope to help me with locating Liam."

Aaron grit his teeth beside her, his entire body tensing at them name. This caused Annabel to become overly confused, having never noticed any tension between Aaron and her brother. The only time that there had ever been anything near a heated discussion was when he had taken her to the junior prom and Liam had given his protective older brother speech, despite knowing that they were simply going as friends. Though, she had been gone for a decade, and that is a long time for blame to be thrown amongst once allied forces.

"Aaron," Annabel sighed, turning to face him, the steps allowing her to match his height. "What happened with Liam?"

He sighed, rested his hand on her cheek, forcing himself to smile as he said, "You don't need to know, or at least not from me. When you find him, he should be the one to tell you."

"God help me, Aaron," Annabel snapped, pushing his hand away from her and gritting her teeth. "I deserve to know before you speak to him, if I end up still speaking to him."

He shook his head, stepping past her and continuing to climb the stairs. Behind him, Annabel let out a chocked and shocked laugh, for the last few months, Aaron had been telling her to trust him and to share her experiences from the last decade. However, the moment she had any questions, surrounding her own brother at that, he closed himself off and decided that he knew what was best for her.

For a second, Annabel thought about letting it go, allowing him go to his room while she went to meet Emily. Yet, a childish notion become fixated in her mind, and the ginger took a seat on the stair. She had decided that she wasn't going to move until he shared with her.

Turing back, Aaron shook his head, asking, "Are you going to act like a five-year-old?"

"Only for as long as you treat me like one." She muttered under her breath, causing him to reluctantly take a seat beside her. "What happened between you and Liam?"

"It wasn't me and Liam." He explained, taking her hand in his, his thumb grazing across her knuckle as he tried to figure the most sensitive way to share the information. "It was Liam and himself. He's not the person you remember, you should get Garcia to check the Rehab centres in California."

Annabel looked up in shock, her breath getting stuck in her throat as she thought about her older brother. He hadn't hidden the fact that he had had trouble drinking from her, in fact he had been as open with her as possible hoping that she would do the same. Liam had always thanked her for helping him get sober, though she hadn't done anything to actively help him, he had sought help so that he could become her guardian when she was fifteen stopping her from entering the foster system.

"That isn't his fault though, Aaron," the ginger whispered, her voice cracking with the guilt that she was suddenly feeling. "If I had never gone away, then he wouldn't have gone back to that. If I'd have been stronger."

"Annie, its not your fault." Her friend reassured her, placing his arm around her as she leaned against his shoulder. "The reason that I reacted the way I did was because when he got really bad, I asked him to get help. He was still married to Amber at the time, and she was expecting a little girl, but he didn't listen."

"But you said to check Rehab centres, he got help." Annabel stated, looking to him with hope in her eyes. "He got help, Aaron."

Aaron let out a breath, not looking at her as he said, "The rehab was court ordered. He'd had a handful of DUIs and then caused an accident that paralysed a teenager."

"Oh, God." Annabel sobbed, her heart pounding in her chest as she thought about the girl. Her brother's state would have been made worse by the knowledge that he had hurt someone else, however it wasn't that which caused her the most shock. Thinking back over what Aaron had said, the woman whispered, "I have a niece?"

Taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life @fandoms-unite14 @theroyalbrownbarbie

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #cbs criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner imagines #aaron hotch hotchner x oc #aaron hotch hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagines #hotch x oc #criminal minds mcf

[microwaved-timmies]

Diseased (Stiles Stilinski) - 1. Body Hunting Gone Wrong

Author: @microwaved-timmies​

Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Cassie Erikkson (OC)

Word Count: 2593

Warnings: blood, mention of dead bodies, murders

Author’s Note: I originally started this on Wattpad like 3 years ago and just stopped. Now, it’s posted on my wattpad account (where future chapters will be posted first) and I’m just hoping that I get more people to enjoy the character that I created. I think she’s pretty great :) (the amount of work it took to post this on the Tumblr mobile app is unbelievable)

(Wattpad is re-writen)

Description: Description: Being a teenager is hard; all the hormones and drama left a teenager tired and worn out before they even become adults. The life of teenager, Cassie Eriksson was filled with hormones and drama, with the added kick of medications and doctor's visits. Living the life of someone with cystic fibrosis was hard enough on young Cassie, but adding on the added stress of being a teenage girl left her mentally exhausted. But, as she grew up with being told to be strong, Cassie powered through with barely enough wit to spare. With her best friends, Scott and Stiles, she gets through the first year of High School. Only with Stiles' slightly-obsessive crush on Lydia Martin, Scott's obsession with lacrosse, and her own genetic problems. The second year of High School was when it got interesting. With Scott's mystical night in the woods, the incredible rise in murder cases in Beacon Hills, and Cassie's own unknown past shockingly taking the spotlight, Cassie doesn't know what to do. The only thing she does know for certain is that her disease might not be the thing that kills her.

"When I walk in the spot, this is what I see. Everybody stops and they staring at--"

"What are you doing?"

I screamed in terror, turning off the music that was blasting throughout my room, and probably my entire house. I turn to my open window to see my friend, Stiles, trying to climb through my open window, but it seemed to be a strikingly difficult task. His pale arms and legs frailed around as he tried to wiggle through my small window.

That was when I decided to help him. I grabbed his left arm and began to pull him through the window.

"You know, we do have a front door," I told him after the gruelling effort of getting him through the window. "I didn't think the window would be that hard." He replied as he stared at the window in disbelief. We stood in the middle of my bedroom, he dressed and staring at the window and me in my 'Hello Kitty' pyjamas and purple bathrobe. 

"Any particular reason why you had the desire to climb through my window, Stiles?"

"Well, I listened in on my--" He started before looking down on my attire for the night. "Why are you wearing pyjamas?" Stiles asked with slight confusion. I felt a slight embarrassment, but that was for the fact that I still owned 'Hello Kitty' pyjamas.

"I don't know Stiles, why would I be wearing sleepwear at night?" My words were laced with sarcasm, as I stared at him as he glared at me.

"Well, sorry 'Little Miss Sarcasm'. Get dressed and meet me outside." Stiles grumbled as he began to make his way back to the window.

"Stiles, Stiles, we do have a door."

***

We had gotten to Scott's house quickly, my house is only a few blocks away; close to the outskirts of town. Stiles had told me on the way there as to why exactly we were waking Scott up in the middle of the night, just a few hours before the first day of sophomore year. Stiles was climbing the roof, hoping to climb into Scott's bedroom.

I heard the sound of creaking footsteps on the wooden deck. I felt my body fill with slight panic as I stood outside in the dead of night. Thorns scraped against my face and neck as I scrambled into the bushes next to the railing. I heard screaming from above, I just hoped one of the screams was Scott. I was not staying in this bush for the night.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!" I heard Scott's distinctive voice from above me, I could just imagine Stiles hanging from the rafters, I just wished he wouldn't fall into the bushes with me.

"You weren't answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?" That was Stiles, his voice was confused, but I would have been to if my friend almost whacked me with a baseball bat. "I thought you were a predator ." Scott blurted. I tried to wrestle my way out of the bush, but my hair and clothes were stuck on the thorns and vines. My backpack, on the other hand, was basically mating with the thing.

I heard rustling a few feet in front of my feet, it stopped after a few seconds. It's just my imagination. Right? Man, I really need to get out of this bush.

"A pre - I - wha - look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police," Stiles said, informing Scott of why we showed up in the middle of the night. I've begun to regret my decision to come along, and I think I'll regret it even more in the morning. "For what?" Scott asked with confusion. We barely get cases that involve the Beacon Department, let alone State Police.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods."

I heard a thud on the outside of the bush that seemed to love me just a little too much or just my backpack. "A dead body?" Was Scott's stupid reply. I swear, he doesn't think before he speaks. When I get out of here, I'm going to stuff him in this bush.

"No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body." Stiles' words dripped with sarcasm. "You mean like, murdered?" Scott questioned. Whatever was in the bushes with me, began to move again, this time quicker and closer to where I was. I could feel my body fill with slight panic, whatever the thing was, it didn't seem to enjoy my company.

'It's more scared of you than you are of it,' I thought, but even as I chanted it in my head, my body filled with more fright the more the animal moved. It was at my side now, but I couldn't move my head to look in the dark, my hair in so many tangles I couldn't even move my head.

"Cassie, where are you?" Stiles questioned the area around him, not knowing that he should have been checking the vegetation surrounding Scott's house. Come to think of it, it's not that unreasonable that I hid in the bushes; I'm a nature-lover at heart, even though my thumb is not the slightest bit green. My grandmother had gotten me a few plants one time, let's just say their deaths were mysterious.

"Down here!" I shouted, "I'm in the bush!" I heard rustling beside me. "Hurry, I don't think I'm alone down here!" The rustling got louder until a felt something breath near my hand. I felt a hand grab the top of my shoulder, and pull. My body was pulled through the bush, branches and spiderwebs coming in contact with my face.

I think I swallowed a few...

Cold air rushed toward my face the moment my face came out of the bush. I saw both Scott and Stiles standing before me, Stiles with his hand still gripping my shoulder. I walked out of the bush, or at least tried to on my own; I had to grip both Scott and Stiles, so I didn't lose my footing and tumble back into the dark abyss that was the bush.

Once I was fully out of the bush, Stiles' hand came closer to my head, and out of instinct, the top half of my body began to lean to the side. The same thing happened when we were little kids; Stiles' hand got closer to my head and I didn't move. His plan at that time was to steal my hair elastic.

I leaned too much and my entire body became unbalanced, resulting in me laying on my back in the grass. Stiles was too slow to catch himself from falling. Stiles fell and his leg ended up stabbing me in my own leg, with his hands on either side of my face. I felt the burn of my cheeks-they were probably fire truck red by now-Stiles' cheeks were turning from their pale state to pink, to red in a matter of seconds. I could smell his cologne; it had a musky smell to it. It reminded me of the wilderness of the summer camp my Grandmother would send me to every summer.

My face contorted into pain every few seconds. "You had branches in your hair," Stiles whispered to me, he shifted and put more weight on the leg that was stabbing me. My face contorted into pain again, this time with an "ow!" at the end. He immediately moved off of me, as he asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. It's not like he basically stepped on me.

"Come on, lovebirds. Aren't we going body hunting?" Scott, being the annoying best friend that he is, said as he walked by us to Stiles' jeep.

***

The ride to the reserve was peaceful and relaxing almost, even though Scott had stuck me in the back. Somehow, Scott just couldn't think of sitting in the backseat. It was like he was a king and the front seat was his throne.

I sat in the middle of the backseat and leaned forward to hear whatever they said. I noticed my backpack had twigs and leaves stuck in it; making it look like it had been surviving in the jungle for years. I was surprised it didn't carry a spear or have a beard.

The jeep stopped suddenly, ending in a jolt. We were at the Reserve now, it was pitch black and felt like the place where you would find a dead body, ironic that that was the reason we were here, to begin with.

"We're seriously doing this?" Scott questioned, as we set foot into the forest of tall trees and mud. The woods were dark, but even in the pitch darkness, the trees cast shadows over everything. The shadows added a certain element that could be felt in your bones.

"You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town," Stiles replied to Scott, as we passed trees and bushes.

"Come on, Scott, this is supposed to be fun. If you're going to have your typical party-pooper attitude, why don't you wait in the jeep?" I said as I walked past Scott, bumping his arm as I did. Scott rolled his eyes at my words; he never appreciated my mind-blowing genius.

He's going to regret that if I get killed in these woods. Or by my disease. My disease could definitely kill me at any time. I'd prefer it if it wasn't today.

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practise tomorrow," Scott said, choosing to ignore my words. Scott could barely run from one side of the field, let alone catch the ball. But he dreamt big, and I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth.

Yet.

"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a gruelling effort."

"Your ass must get a great workout."

Scott glared at us, or I'm pretty sure he was. It sounds like something he would do. The dark that wrapped around us like a blanket limited my vision to only a few feet in front of me.

"No," Scott glared at me in the dark. I smiled at him, acting like I didn't just insult his ego. "Because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line."

I continued to walk behind them; following the flashlight Stiles was holding so I didn't wander into the woods.

Where a murder just happened.

"Hey, that's the spirit. Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one."

I snorted uncontrollably; I could almost feel Scott's annoyance. His glare made me stop my snorting, but I couldn't keep a straight face. We walked for a bit in silence, our shoes crunching over the leaves. "Just out of curiosity," Scott said, "which half of the body are we looking for?"

We kept walking, Stiles a couple of steps in front of Scott and I. "Huh, I didn't even think of that."

"You've got to be kidding me." I sighed in annoyance; of course, Stiles didn't check for finer details.

"And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?"

"Also something I didn't think about."

I stared at Stiles' back in disbelief; but I really shouldn't be, he does this thing all the time. One time, he picked up someone else's backpack (thinking it was mine) and carried it around for 20 minutes, even though I was wearing mine.

"So what your saying is," I started, "we're going to get murdered out here because we stupidly decided to go body hunting.". We were walking up a small hill, Scott beginning to have an asthma attack.

"It's comforting to know that you planned this up with your usual attention to details," Scott said, panting and struggling to breathe. He got his inhaler out as we walked together and Stiles answered with a cheerful, "I know!".

Stiles was up ahead, darting through the trees, the flashlight slowly leaving my sight. Scott and I hurried to catch up. The forest was dark and the leaves were slippery. The raindrops fell on my head and down the back of my sweater, causing me to shiver. Scott panted and wheezed beside me. Stiles was laying on his stomach at the top of the hill, Scott and I dropped down and joined him. Rain dropped on my head and right through the sweater I was wearing. Why did I decide to go body hunting in the woods? At night? In the rain? A murderer on the loose? I should really start asking questions before I do stupid things. Especially with Stiles.

The police officers were in view from where we were. Stiles stumbled up and ran through the trees, leaving Scott and me in the dust.

"Wait!" Scott shouted.

"Stiles, no!" I yelled. Scott and I stumbled up and ran after Stiles. I'm surprised the police didn't hear our dog-like panting. My small structure was a disadvantage when it came to catching up to Stiles. My track experience, however, allowed me to get a couple of feet ahead of Scott. I was nearing Stiles and I watched him fall back on to the wet ground. I slide to a stop on the wet leaves and watched as Stiles was caught by Sheriff Stilinski and a police dog. I caught Scott's hand and pulled him into the trees to hide.

If I come home with the police one more time, I might get killed by grandma.

Scott and I were hiding behind trees as the Sheriff interrogated Stiles. "So where are your usual partners in crime?" Sheriff Stilinski asked as he moved his flashlight in the dark. I sucked in a breath, even though I highly doubt they could hear my breathing.

They'd be more likely to catch Scott due to heavy breathing. The dude sounded like a dog.

"Who, Scott and Cassie? They're both at home... sleeping. They both wanted to get a good night's sleep before the first day of school tomorrow," Stiles started nervously, "there's just me... in the woods..." My nose started to itch and my eyes began to water. No, no, no...

A loud sneeze went through the small clearing we were in. I froze and hoped that maybe, just maybe, it didn't sound like a sneeze. Judging by the look, I mean glare, Scott was sending me, I was not walking out of here without a police officer.

And that I was most likely dead.

"...alone" I heard Stiles finish softly as he too, awaited my fate.

"Cassie, you out there?" Sheriff Stilinski said as flashlights turned in my direction. I knew I had to reveal myself, but maybe if I wait long enough they'll forget. "Cassie, come out,". I walked out from behind my tree into my spotlight.

"Hel--why is it so bright?!" I yelled as I shielded my eyes. It was a spotlight, and it hurt. A lot.

"Well, I'm gonna walk both of you back to your car," Stilinski said, grasping our shoulders, "and you and I are gonna have a discussion about something called violation of privacy." he directed at Stiles.

The walk to the Jeep was silent and awkward. I was hoping that my grandmother wouldn't be involved, that Sheriff Stilinski would let this one slide.

"I'm hoping my grandma can stay out of this one," I suggested.

"No, I am. I have her on speed dial."

"I expected nothing else."

#stiles stilinski #stiles x oc #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf season 1 #lydia martin #allison argent #cute #scott mccall #cassie erikkson #She's so fucking cute #faeries #changling #banshee #werewolves #supernatural #funny #sarcasm

[bespangeled]

What’s something you think the fandom gives a character an unreasonable amount of slack for, and what’s something you think fans unreasonably resent them for?—AKA dreamsofghostsandstars

I’ve kept this because my answers are Spike and Angel - a topic that has been well explored. Mostly I think Angel tends to get a pass. But then I read something today about how Buffy’s trauma with soulless Angel comes not from his actions but from the fact that he wears the face of the man she loved. And I disagree.

I agree his face is a trauma. But there were many others. It wasn’t that he was hunting Buffy - it’s that he was threatening, killing and torturing her family and friends. He did more damage to her than any other big bad. He killed more than one friend, and he threatened to kill her mother.. He murdered Jenny and then set up that horrific tableau for Giles to find. He kidnapped Giles - broke Xander’s arm - gave Willow a concussion - and tortured Giles for hours, for fun. He also killed two small children, and left them in their beds looking like they were asleep for their father to find. Then he killed their father. Since he was lose in Sunnydale for over two months, I bet he had plenty of others tableaus set up. All in all he cause more death and disaster than anyone other Big Bad  in the series.

And it is all hand waved away because no one ever told him about the happiness clause. Angel losing his soul is a much discussed metaphor for the man who takes your virginity and then treats you like dirt. But Angel losing his soul is also a metaphor for a man who gives into temptation and becomes a monster. He said repeatedly he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing with Buffy - and he was right. The idea that an adult man should resist sleeping with high school kids is pretty much part of our culture.

Let’s lay it out as a metaphor. Buffy and Angel are co-workers at a DQ. He’s 27 and has had a real wild life - knows how to seduce people and screw with their heads. But something horrible happened and now he has really turned over a new life. He hates the tings he did in the past and regrets the people he hurt.

Buffy is a 16 year old sophomore - new in town - and she thinks he is seriously cute. She flirts a bit, and he flirts back - but he always pulls back from the edge. Eventually he does kiss her. She doesn’t tell her mother, and since he knows that she would never approve, he doesn’t either. They go out together and do exciting things - and eventually they wind up sitting in her bedroom window making out. Each time the 27 year old man tells the high school student that he shouldn’t be doing this but she is so special that he couldn’t help loving her. And of course, she has this wonderful romantic schoolgirl love for him. She is wise beyond her years in a lot of things, but this is her first love.

On the evening of her 17th birthday the man gives into temptation and sleeps with the girl even though he knows that he shouldn’t. He loses his soul - he overturns that new leaf he had turned - he reverts to what he once hated. This is the other half of the metaphor. Angel knew he was wrong, but he slept with her anyway.

I remember how much younger I was in high school than I was in college. It’s a whole different time of life. Two years is a long time when you’re that young. I have at least one person in my life who pretty much had this happen to her. I know the damage that did to her, and I can see the damage that did to Buffy. She was never able to open up to anyone the way she had to him before they slept together. In fact, she was never able to open up to and trust him that way. Some people see a ‘forever love’. I see a traumatized young woman who is damaged - who can’t get close to people - who can’t ask for help - who has a hard time trusting. Maybe she is in love with that 27 year old guy who left town, but she can never be with him again.

Angel loved Buffy - and he abused her. He did something he knew was completely wrong, and she suffered for it. He was an adult, and she was still too young to navigate those waters. If he had truly loved her he wouldn’t have put himself in situations where he was tempted. He would have show some restraint. He would have waited. Because regardless of whether or not they were equals at their job, a high school kid is not someone a 27 year old man should be sleeping with. His age and experience played a huge role in her decisions. And every adult who sleeps with a high school kid has a soul - I would say that metaphorically they lose that soul when they give into temptation.

As for Spike - yeah, he was damn toxic too. He was the complete trope of the bad boyfriend, although physical abuse was pretty even. He tried to separate her from her friends, tried to bring her into the dark where he could have her to himself. Buffy was traumatized - but she was an adult. She knew what soulless vampires could do. She initiated their relationship be cause she wanted the fire back. She made choices - some of them very bad - that is one of the unfortunate parts of suffering from PTSD. She slept with Spike but she knew she couldn’t trust him. She broke up with Spike because she knew she could never love him. He attempted to rape her, and after he got his soul she forgave him - just as she had forgiven Angel. While the duration of their time together had some terrible stuff, there were a few good ones. And when she kicked him away she had made it thorough her depression - and was not permanently scarred.

I love Angel because he tries - and I love him when he fails. But I don’t close my eyes to his failures any more than he does. Spike knew that Buffy was not herself - if for no other reason she kept confiding in her. He knew she was vulnerable - and like a soulless demon he took advantage. He thought he loved her - and he did in his own twisted way - but he didn’t have any understanding of selfless love. After years of operand conditioning he could play the part - and he could always love - but demonic love is toxic for humans. Angel knew exactly what he was doing and he knew he should resist. But Buffy was special, he felt that he loved her, and he didn’t know what unselfish love was either - until after he came back from hell.

I think that both Angel and Spike get both an unreasonable amount of slack and/or an unreasonable amount of resentment from various parts of fandom. Mostly I see fans targeting Spike - but I seldom see fans willing to actually look at how unhealthy aspect of Angel and Buffy’s relationship were. The fact that Ange did all the things said were wrong is waved away - his decisions are excused. Her pain, her guilt, her trauma - are all excused. Only Angel and Spike hold themselves completely accountable.

#btvs meta #spike #angel #anti bangel and spuffy #to those who want to see it that way

[mommab2l-blog]

*******

Aimee  Thu, Apr 30, 2:47 PM 

Hi Becky, We were wondering if it would be possible to have ******* from May 13th to May 30th? Thanks

Becky  Thu, Apr 30, 2:52 PM 

As part of your 4 week summer visitation?

Aimee  Thu, Apr 30, 3:00 PM 

Just thought you would be considerate without adding it to another visitation due to:

remote schooling

long commute (600 miles round trip) for bi- monthly visitation

Memorial holiday

Becky  Thu, Apr 30, 3:05 PM 

I am not interested in pursuing additional visitation.  I am willing to facilitate a date exchange for the same amount of time.  There is potential for his baseball team to do some field work starting in June so that would be something we could discuss.  +++ is also currently working and he is doing schooling.  Regardless,+++b will be available for the Memorial Day Holiday May 21st-26th.

Aimee  Thu, Apr 30, 3:15 PM 

You may not be interested but is +++++++, as this is who this is about. This is not an unreasonable request and considering you have him most of the time, a date exchange for the same amount of time is being unreasonable.

Becky  Thu, Apr 30, 3:32 PM 

I am following the divorce order and considering the safely of my son's well being.  His well being and safety is the most important thing in the world to me.   I am sorry you do not agree, but that is not really my problem.  The visitation order that exists is for the safely and best interest of my son.  Jason can call and guilt him all he wants, my job is to be the responsible parent. He may not tell you how he feels, but, believe me, he tells me.He also already has an appointment to take his drivers test on the 18th and will hopefully be doing the driving portion of the test on the 16th or 17th.Also, making him feel bad about his nickname is ridiculous.  He will tell you what you want to hear, but he writes +++ on his school assignments. ********* and ***** should also be allowed to call him whatever they like, not be ordered what to call him in your presence.  He shouldn't be worried when the school puts his name as +++ in a program or on a certificate that "my Dad will be mad".  Call him what you want, but leave everyone else alone.

Becky  Thu, Apr 30, 3:47 PM 

And one more thing, do not talk to me about considering what +++ wants when +++ is the one who wanted a passport and you flat our refused him.  That was what HE wanted.  

Becky  Thu, Apr 30, 4:49 PM (5 days ago) I have let this communication game of yours go on for long enough. My COURT ORDERED DECREE is with Jason and I will NO LONGER be speaking or responding to Aimee about my son with Jason. If Jason has something to speak to me about then he can communicate that for himself.Effective 4/30/20 at 4:48 P.M.

Sincerely, Becky 

Jason L 12:58 PM Tuesday May 5

Regarding the passport, I did not refuse +++++++ anything, if he had wanted a passport, he has not communicated that to me, in fact has never brought it up. Our children's safety is of the upmost importance to me and is exactly why I did not complete the passport application.  You refused to tell me exactly where you were going and the details about the trip (ie where you were staying, who he was going with, when the trip was, etc). As +++++++'s other parent, I have every right to know the details of a trip out of the country. In addition, there is no way you would be getting a copy of my driver's license so you could write permission letters in and out of the country and forge my name. Did you tell +++++++ that side of the story, or just make me look like the bad guy like you tried in this email?

The kids have vented frustrations to me also because that is what kids do, but I do not put it in an email trying to make you look bad. I do not feel I have tried to guilt +++++++ into anything, he has told me that he wants to come visit me. Do you see him sad and upset when he leaves our home, no, so don't try and twist what he wants to make both his parents happy and not upset either of us.  

All I asked for was more time with +++++++ during a time when there are no sporting events and school to conflict with the time and it could be tied in with the Memorial holiday,  this was not unreasonable request. It is interesting how you bring up safety AFTER you ask if this is part of the 4 weeks in the summer and that you are willing to “facilitate a date exchange for the same amount of time.”

As far as the other items you mention about a nickname and trying to bash me just seems out of context in regards to this email and more time with +++++++. But since you brought it up, I do not "get mad" about "+++" being on certificates and rosters. What bothers me about it is that it is not his legal name. When it comes to +++++++'s future and his legal name is not attached to things like certificates and rosters (anything school/sport related), I get concerned that it will not be taken seriously on college, sports, or even employment applications. +++++++ knows I will be upset just for that reason and it should not be taken out of context. If +++++++ wants to be called "+++" that is choice, including +++++++++ and +++++ and they know that as they are adults now. In fact,  Aimee calls him +++++++ +++ or B-+++ and I am just fine with that. My choice as his father is to continue to call him +++++++.

And for the record, we (me and Aimee) discussed with +++++++++ a birthday party for +++++++ on May 2nd. +++++++ really wanted it at our home, and we told +++++++++ that we would email you and Chris an invite to our home. +++++++++ then told us that you had chosen not to travel at that time so we did not extend an invite for +++++++'s party (which in hindsight we should have extended the invite any way to prevent +++++++++ being called a liar).  I do not want +++++++ and +++++++ (or any of our future grandchildren) to ever feel like they cannot have all their grandparents in the same room to cheer them on. I do not want the same for them as what our children have had to endure over the years.

Jason

Becky Tuesday May 5 2:31 p.m.

Jason,

I have spoken to +++ and he would like to come for a little extra time.  +++ and I discussed the week following Memorial Day, returning on the 30th.  Let me know if that would work for you.  At the time that you sent the email requesting an additional 2.5 weeks, you were already aware that +++ was taking his driver’s license test on May 18th.  I know he told you that information.  He has been counting down the days and perhaps you could demonstrate putting him first by considering things like that before making requests which I will then have to turn down due to things +++ already has planned.  He will also still be required to do his school work during that time. Regarding the passport, you most certainly did refuse.  He begged me for months to ask you, he was uncomfortable doing so.  Only you are to blame for anyone being nervous to ask you things.  I did give you every detail available to me at the time and promised to give you final details when things were finalized. I am not stupid enough to purchase tickets and make solid plans without a passport in hand.  So, saying I refused details is completely untrue.   Also, just because you have forged my name in the past on our tax return check DO NOT assume I too would stoop so low as to commit forgery. Sending me a copy of your license was ONE option, you were also offered to take your information to the Lemhi County court house on your own and turn it in.  BOTH options were refused. Safety is always a huge concern when the children are with you.  I lived with the abuse and I just pray they don’t have to endure the same experiences as me.  All I can do is hope that you are taking your medication and that someone will protect them if need be.  While I know there have been issues over the years, I just hope for the best.  The safety of my children will always come first. I have been told a completely different story about the +++++++ “+++” issue from numerous sources, but that really doesn’t matter.  I just don’t like him to feel bad.  Rest assured that he is enrolled in school under his legal name.  I am not concerned about it being a problem for him at any time in his life. I completely agree it is a shame what our children have had to endure.  The total lack of communication by you has made it impossible to ever get anything accomplished in any kind of civilized matter.  I have asked time and time again for communication from you and to not make the children do the communication for you but it never changes.  Just in the last few months you have made +++ ask me if he can go to dinner with you and if he could spend the night at your hotel after basketball.  It takes you over 5 hours to get here, so being in the area is never a surprise and all you have to do is text or email so we can all know what is going on.  You treat me and my family like any plans we have are not important and everything must be dropped the minute you roll into town.  You have forced me to have communication with your wife instead of you and if she doesn’t come to town with you there is zero communication on what time you will arrive for scheduled pick ups or what time I can expect him back. So please,  if you want to try to make things remotely better, man up, text or email me yourself, DON’T use the kids as go-betweens or your wife. Just be polite and considerate of other people plans and time.  That would be a huge first step.  I hope you chose to take it. Sincerely, Becky 

[prairiechzhead]

Hi read your post, D is diff in s3 but that is because she is struggling with all whats happened. 3.01 she was so sad ,then after Roscoff she was annoyed with him,he says one thing and does another,Dwight was his friend ,yes he had to go but one min he wants to be a country squire and next he in France. She gets snarky with him because he is stubborn

(2/5) She knows what he wants before he does,he is blind to things, she deserves to be snarky after what he put her through ,it took him months to say sorry,now he is saying twice, you have married the wrong man, look else where,not all men are besottted, he cant see what L is really like,says she wouldnt allow G to behave bad, he knows L, (yes thats the prob). Know D knows he kissed L, would that sound good to a 25 yr old girl, she ought to hang the moon for R now and he still didnt change

(3/5) He cant see that she is more vunerable now things that never bothered her before do now, she has lost her faith in him and herself,chink in her armour, she has been second best for most of her marriage . She has never had his unconditional love, he loves her but he just needed to show it more,one dance at the ball,tell her she looks nice, she doubts her self worth ,he is not honest with her,she feels unappreciated.he is s good man but takes her for granted, so yes glad she is modern

(4/5)He would walk all over her otherwise, think she deserved to be snarky with him at times ,didnt like the beach snark after Agatha died,he retaliated bad back as well, she knows that R should do this job not G,he knows it,it annoys her, agree that some dialogue from book D does not suit show D that gets mixed up, book D would not of suited todays audience,she was too forgiving after his vbt, then when with H while she was still happy with R, that was horrible,glad Deb changed that. D was sweet in

(5/5)She was sweet in s1 but she was young and blinded with love,she no longer sees him with rose rimmed spectacles, she had him on a pedestal . Circumstances have changed her. Going with H was wrong because of her beliefs but he is the first man thats loved her because he wants to,R married her out of obligation,Sparks helped me with understanding all this. Thats my take anyway,

Okay, Nonny. Since your ask was long, I’m going to try and tackle this the best I can. This answer will probably be long, too. Here goes: 

This is my take. Modern Demelza does not work in the show because they gave her 21st Century attitudes, but left everyone else in the 18th century. This is a period drama. It is not unreasonable to expect that the characters and the story are accurate to the time period. If modern people can’t accept that this is a period drama and that characters are going to act according to the mores and dictates of that period, then perhaps they shouldn’t watch the show. The other thing is that if DH wants a modern take on this, then, as @mmmuses said in another post, she should do a modern adaptation of Poldark and set it on the 21st century. 

One thing that people miss who love modern Demelza is that she can be as feisty as she wants, but it doesn’t change things like the laws at the time. A modern woman, in the same situation has the freedom to leave. In the 18th century, she did not. A married woman had zero rights under the law. In fact, the law did not recognize her as a person at all. She was part of her husband. In 18th century England, a woman could not obtain a divorce at all. A man could, but only if his wife had committed adultery. So hypothetically, Ross could divorce her after her thing with Hugh and she would be left with nothing. Not even her children. Being modern and feisty isn’t going to help you there. 

The thing about book Demelza is this: she is a more mature character. She is allowed to mature. Time and experience made her grow up. But in spite of everything she has gone through, she was still a sweet and kind person. That is not weakness. To maintain that in the face of some really tough things shows strength of character. She is wiser, but she is not bitter. What you’re describing with Modern Demelza is anger and bitterness. Those are not positive traits in a person.

There is a time gap between Warleggen and Black Moon where R & D’s reconciliation happened. Their reconciliation actually started in Warleggen, but it was very slow. Still, most of it happened between the two books. So no, she did not forgive Ross “too quickly”. Warleggen ended around Christmas time. Black Moon picked up a few months later. It may be your opinion that their reconciliation happened “too quickly”, but you are forgetting that R & D love each other deeply and they are meant to be together, which is their motivation to resolve things. The amount of time someone needs to resolve a problem is also subjective. It depends on the parties involved and how much effort they put into it. 

You’re also forgetting that Ross was sorry for what he did with E, even though he didn’t express it the best way. He showed regret and remorse right away because he damaged the trust between him and his wife. On the show, you see it in Aidan Turner’s acting and facial expressions. Ross is horrible at communicating things verbally, so on the show, you have to pay close attention to all those non-verbal cues, which Aidan does so beautifully. Demelza is also not very good at communicating, for that matter. Modern Demelza is even worse at it than Book Demelza. Modern Demelza has this nasty habit of never giving Ross a chance to explain or clarify things he says that don’t come out sounding as he may have intended. She reacts to the words. It also seems that Ross on the show is the one making the effort to change, where Demelza is not. 

This brings me back to the point about historical accuracy. Because Demelza is stuck in this marriage, the only option she has is to make it work. Being snarky and bitter and angry is not how you work things out like a mature adult. And as young as she is, people in those days grew up very quickly. They had no choice. Modern Demelza also does not work here because if she remains snarky and bitter and angry, then she’s basically stuck in a miserable marriage and contributing to its miserable state. What motivation does Ross have to stay faithful to her if all she does is bitch at him all the time? Plus now you’ve taken away the happy ending. As part of the audience, if she’s going to be bitchy and out of character all the time, then what motivation do I have to root for this couple to fix things and be happy? None. I can’t find anything worth cheering for if all she’s going to do is complain and be snarky at him and criticize him all the time. 

A successful marriage is about balance. Both partners are responsible for maintaining equilibrium. Things will happen that will upset this equilibrium. It is up to both partners to adapt and change to restore equilibrium. You cannot have equilibrium in a relationship when one person decides she’s going to do whatever she wants while the other person has to sit back and let her do it. This is also my problem with Modern Demelza. In the books, Ross and Demelza are perfect foils for each other. They also adapt and change to maintain that equilibrium in their relationship. I’m not seeing anything like that on the show. In fact, it seems like they’re trying to make Demelza more modern at the expense of Ross’s character. I also believe that making D modern also comes at Caroline’s expense as well. 

The other issue with modernizing a period character is that our modern culture defines strength of character backwards. Book Demelza is a stronger character than Modern Demelza. Book Demelza is a stronger character because she takes the time to think through and ponder what she does and how she feels about things before she acts. She doesn’t always do the right thing, but she is human. Modern Demelza is impulsive and doesn’t think things through. She acts on emotion and sometimes that emotion is spite or anger. Our culture mistakenly teaches us that to stop and think about things first is indecisiveness and therefore indecisiveness is weakness. Acting without thinking is weakness. Hugh Armitage doesn’t love her in an adult way. Hugh has basically a crush on her and because of who he is and his station in life, he can act on it and he does. 

The lines that Ross says about “you’ve married the wrong man” are an example of how Modern Demelza misinterprets things and doesn’t ask him to explain what he meant. At times during this past season, it felt like Modern Demelza was looking for reasons to take up with Hugh. This is an example of that. He was not pushing her away nor was he telling her he didn’t want her, as so many people are interpreting that to mean. Book Demelza struggled with her attraction to Hugh right up until the act itself. 

Modern Demelza is trying to make Ross into something he is not, and then she gets snippy when he won’t do what she wants him to do, while Book Demelza understands who her husband is and doesn’t push him or berate him for not taking the MP offer at first. 

If you have not read the books, I recommend that you do because there is so much context in them that is missing from the show. I felt that S3 was rushed and they tried to cram too much into 9 episodes. There was a lot of context missing from what we saw on screen. 

In the end, these two crazy kids, Ross and Demelza, do love each other. Deeply. They do not want to be without the other. And they do stay together because they love each other and they want to be together. That is the end goal, but with the changes that Debbie made, she’s going to have to do a lot of logical gymnastics in order to have the TV versions reach that goal. I can suspend my disbelief, but up to a point. Because if I were in TV Ross’s shoes, I wouldn’t want to stay married to someone who was snarky to me and did things out of spite towards me or never gave me the benefit of the doubt. That’s tantamount to emotional abuse. 

#poldark

[highwarlockofarcher]

New story: A Doctor in the institute. chapter 1: Doctor who?

William Herondale stood atop the raised edge of Blackfriars Bridge, staring down at a swirling black mass of water below; thinking – in all honesty- about death. In the past three weeks six bodies – if they could be even described as bodies- had turned up in random points in the city. They had all had been skinned to the bone and left for someone to find. This led the police to believe that the bodies had been either dug up, or had been left to rot.

At first the London institute had brushed the first body off as a long dead mundane that had only just been discovered; after all the police, these days, were as useful as ten men absent. What really had drawn the shadowhunters to this case was that after two weeks there had been three new bodies that looked exactly the same. The confusing part was that when Will and his brother-in-law, Gabriel, began to dig deeper in to the investigation they found that there was no other cause of death other than aging and the obvious… well, death.

There was no mark on the bones, no bite marks, no sign of splintering on the skull, nothing. None of it made any sense. The only plausible explanation was… that there was no plausible explanation; but even that theory was flawed. It had been the bafflement of Scotland Yard and now the London institute were in over their heads too.

He’d been staring down at the river for a long time just waiting for anything at all to happen. Alas there had been nothing. Not that he’d known what he had been expecting but exactly nothing at all had been rather disappointing.

Behind him the city was punctuated by the clatter of carriages returning from functions and men’s clubs melding with the calls of the poor and dying. As a young boy- living in London with nobody but himself and the people he tried not to get too close to- the calls of those people shook him too his core. He had thought as an adult he would have learned to block it out, but he hadn’t. Their cries, if anything, got louder and more noticeable.

All of this made him wonder if the people who had died had been one of the people he had walked past in the streets; given money too when they had held their dying children close and whispered the only words of comfort they could without lying. He wondered now if he had made any difference to their lives. He supposed he would never know.

As he turned to get down from the edge of the bridge he caught sight of a figure in long parchment robes making their way towards him. Turning he jumped down on to the path bellow and walked the rest of the way towards the figure; plastering a grin on his face.

“You, my friend, are late” he said, placing a hand, pointedly, on his hip. He knew the figure like he knew his wife and son and was just as fond of him. Jem raised an eyebrow at him – something that was uncharacteristic of a silent brother. But then again Jem was no ordinary silent brother.

“I am sure you found a way to entertain yourself in my absence.”  Came the other man’s –almost emotionless - reply.

Will internally shivered as Jem’s familiar- yet strange- voice whispered in his mind. He still hadn’t gotten used to hearing his friend’s voice while watching as his mouth didn’t once open. Externally, however, his grin widened and leaned against the rails of the bridge with an air of serenity.

“By the angel, Brother Zachariah, did you just use sarcasm? I didn’t know silent brothers were capable of such a thing!” he watched as Jem lowered his eyebrow quickly, and schooling the amused expression that had crept up on him.

Will’s face dropped at that. Why had he said anything at all? Jem would never have noticed and Will would have had a few more minutes to see his Jem behind the dark façade of the bone city. He missed the other boy with such intensity it amounted to agony; to be without his parabati was agony. It was never –as the great writers say – a stab wound, but a million little tiny papercuts to his heart all day, every day. It may have been melodramatic and he may have to take the grief from others who didn’t understand, but he knew better than them. He felt it.

When James had first arrived at the institute Will had been- at worst- unreasonably cruel to him, and Jem- being his usual unaffected self- had laughed it off. To this day Will still didn’t understand how he could have just brushed what he’d said aside. Granted he had – even back then- always been able to read Will like a book, but anybody else would have recoiled like a scalded cat. Instead his former parabati called him an dreadful shot and suggested he let him train him. And that had been it; the day will had met his best friend, his brother, his soul, his parabati .

And for one shining moment everything was perfect… and then that moment ended. Jem had been severely ill – even then and as the years went on he only got worse. One day – as is always the way- he got as bad as you can get – without being dead. Jem had run out of his medication – namely his Yin Fen- and was deaerating fast. Will had been helpless through it all; something he was not used to being. In the end all he had been able to do was for fill his friends dying wish; which in the end hadn’t quite worked out the way he had intended. Even now it still kept Will up at night that he hadn’t been there for his friend when he had died and been born again as a brother of the silent city.

“You are troubled, old friend.” Said Jem, pulling him out of his train of thought. “ you are thinking of the bond.”

“don’t read my thoughts James” will snapped sharply, instantly regretting it as he saw the miniscule flinch that invaded Jem’s person. “I’m sorry” he sighed, in an attempt to amend his blunder. “ I know you cannot help it, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“no it is my fau-“ Will cut him off quickly with a shake of the head and his signature don’t argue with me on this James look. It was one of the few things that they had still been able to retain about their friendship and Will was glad.

Jem’s facial expression shifted ever so slightly to exasperation; which did make Will laugh. Sometimes Jem’s struggle to fully integrate himself into the role of Silent Brother made Will’s heart jolt painfully and bleed for the other boy; however most of the time he selfishly revelled in the fact that he was still able to arouse an emotion from him.

“Why do I get the distinct impression that you are stalling on me Mr. Herondale?”  There had been humour in his voice then – much to wills entertainment.

“James Carstairs, when have you ever known me, William Herondale, to stall?” Jem didn’t give Will the satisfaction of an answer, only stared at him blankly trough his closed eyes. “On second thought, refrain from answering that in any way.”

“Oh I fully intended too.” Said Jem. “Now why have you called upon the brother hood at this ungodly hour, shadowhunter?”

Will snorted at that; what a James thing to say. He turned gesturing for the other man to follow him. As they walked Will was acutely aware that, while he himself had used a silencing rune, Jem’s foot-steps left not a whisper of sound in their wake.

Out of all the differences between shadowhunter and silent brother, the solitude and silence, in which they lived their life, was what disturbed Will the most. Everything else was simply white noise.

Making their way to the end of the bridge Will filled his former parabati in on the investigation and Gabriel’s concerns that these resent deaths may have been demonic in origin.  All the while Jem stayed silent next to him. Only when Will was entirely finished did he speak.

“And you say there is no connection between any of the people?” he asked

“None what so ever; well, except that they all live in London.” Answered will, as they passed bishop’s gate. “It’s as I said there’s no reason for any of the poor buggers to have died, it’s why Gabriel reckons it’s all demon related.”

Jem turned his closed eyes to him in an almost quizzical expression. He needn’t have done it really; Will knew even when he’d asked Jem not to, the silent brother could still hear his thoughts, but he appreciated the gesture all the same.

“but you do not think so?” Jem’s tone was almost curious, as if the idea of having to work with someone, other than those in the brotherhood, had brought back part of his humanity. Not that he had lost all that much of it.

Will sighed heavily, considering his answer for a minute. “The thing is, there is not enough evidence to suggest otherwise; but there also isn’t enough evidence to suggest it is either.” He scuffed his shoes against the dirt road they walked across; watching as the stones came loose of the earth under his feet.

“What do you mean by that?” Jem questioned further.

“Well, demons aren’t exactly the cleanest of beasts. They usually leave behind at least a trace of sulphur if nothing else.” The logic behind will’s theory was unquestionably sound; it was true that demons left behind some sign –some small trace – that the blood was on their own fangs. However it was increasingly possible that this was a demon the likes of which no shadowhunter had ever seen. The idea frightened him more than he would ever like to admit.

As they approached the top of white chapel, the gas lamps that lined the road side flickered ever so slightly in the gentle breeze that blew from the south. Will stopped for a moment as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There hadn’t been a wind all evening and if there had been it hadn’t been coming from the south. Something felt off about the street; not exactly bad, just off. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly.

Reaching instinctively for the seraph blade at his hip Will pulled it free from its clip. “Tabbris” he whispered and the adimas set ablaze. Jem – as he often did when he sensed Will’s discomfort- tensed and slid quietly into a fighting position; his staff in both hands ready to strike.

The air seemed to get slightly heavy, as if it was being pushed on and manipulated to fit a strange alien object. Will strained his ears, leaning forward ever so slightly. In the distance there was a wheezing, groaning sound that pressed in from all sides.  Will spun three sixty on the spot, surveying every possible opening and attack point. It wasn’t a noise either of them had heard before, which was never a good sign.

Out of the corner of his eye, to his left, Will saw a blue box; A blue box that wasn’t there a second ago. Both shadowhunter and silent brother swung, in perfect unison, towards it as the sound faded and the feeling left. A new feeling invaded Will’s senses now; one he knew all too well. It was the cold sense of battle that lingered across every inch of his skin and filled his bones.  Pointing his sword at the box he advanced slowly forward, gesturing for Jem to flank him on his right. As they advanced it became more and more apparent there was someone –rather than something- inside. Voices drifted from behind the door, barely audible but still there. The door rattled slightly before opening and a man emerged, walking backward.

“See Clara, like I promised nineteenth century London!” he exclaimed excitedly swinging his full body around in an exaggerated manner as he continued “still in the reign of queen Victoria and – ah. “ He cut himself off as he came very close to taking his -rather absurd- chin off on the edge of Will’s blade. The man was very odd looking from the front; not bad, just, odd. His clothes were a dark tweed three piece with a bow tie and a bowler had atop his head. His disposition was more childish than demonic but Will refused to back down just in case. Too many times had he been lured into false security by someone he thought was trust worthy and turned out to be a monster.

“What was that doct- oh!” Somebody else –presumably Clara- popped their head around the door, gazing out on to the scene. It was a young woman, about twenty four years old and roughly five foot three in height. She wore the typical Victorian attire but with an unusual air of someone who was not used to such constricting clothes. Both of them were out and out odd. Clara ventured further out, standing on the Doctor’s right; looking just as shocked as him as Jem raised his staff closer to her neck. “Doctor, I thought you said we were in the Victorian era?” she said none too discreetly as she tried in vain to stay still under Jem’s staff.

The doctor put a finger to his tongue and then held it up in the air. “We are.” He answered, sounding as though he wasn’t even convincing himself.

“then why,” asked Clara “are there people pointing glowing swords  at us?” To Will –as confused as he already was- it sounded like quite a good question; what threw him off however was the question about the date. Of course it was the nineteenth century, what other century could it have been?

“who are you?” he questioned them, sounding a lot more confident than he actually was. The doctor seemed to observe Will and Jem for a minute before a look of dawning realisation took over his features. In a strange jolting display of movement the Doctor smacked his own forehead and slipped past Wills sword.

“oh, yes, of course, your shadowhunters aren’t you? It’s okay Clara they’re only shadowhunters, see?” Will froze in surprise and the next thing he knew he’d been grabbed by the shoulders and air kissed on both sides. As the doctor disarmed Jem and gave him the same discerning greeting, Clara relaxed slightly and asked.

“uh, great! I think… Doctor what’s a shadowhunter?” this seemed to bring will back to reality a little bit as the doctor then went on to shake his free hand for no apparent reason. “Doctor!”

“yes! Shadowhunters, sorry.” He returned to Clara’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “shadowhunters are a race of beings descendent from a race called the angelis, not actual angels as you can imagine, but they are what the stories are based off of. Shadowhunters are half human half angelis and are on this earth to fight the demos, or as they call them demons, who come from a parallel pocket universe that’s slowly rotting away, all very interesting stuff.” Will looked at Jem now and saw that he was just as disturbed as he was. Hat this man was implying was that they were ignorant as to their own heritage. And to add injury to insult he had a feeling this Doctor was right.

It was Jem who recovered his voice first. His voice held no anger or fear; merely curiosity and even a hint of amusement. It appeared he had searched through the Doctor and Clara’s minds and found nothing too threatening.

“Excuse us we didn’t mean to startle you.”  Jem spoke in all of their minds. “I am Brother Zachariah and this is my companion for this evening, Mr William Herondale.”  the two strangers looked Jem up and down and smiled.

“well that’s alright, no harm done. I’m the Doctor and this is my friend Miss Clara Oswald.” Replied the odd man.”

“doctor?” The question burst out of Will like an explosion, there was something odd about this Doctor fellow; something not quite honest. He had the same look in his eyes as so many other veteran Will had seen in his time; it was the cold look of sadness and the knowledge of so much death and suffering. However there was also a childish quality to him, a curiosity to know more about the world and the people around him; he had the stars in his eyes. “Doctor Who?”

#the infernal devices #doctor who #clara oswald #the doctor #will herondale #jem carstairs #crossover

[datingadviceonreddit]

Just found out my (37f) boyfriend (35m) has been frequently hanging out with his secret/mentally ill ex-wife (33F) behind my back the whole time we’ve been dating and lying about it.I’m so upset, I feel like my brain has been replaced with a can of clearance-cart refried beans. Apologies if this is all over the place, my head is a mess and I am completely gutted.After months, nay, YEARS of going on disappointing and borderline disastrous dates, (I use OLD sites, live in a fairly large New England City, dating here is really tough for some reason), I finally met a guy who I really clicked with.Our first date was the honestly the best date I had ever been on, the chemistry was ebullient and I walked home from the pub feeling like my $39 TJ Maxx heels were filled with some sort of sidewalk skimming helium. To my luck, that infatuated feeling was mutual and we have been almost inseparable ever since. We became close very quickly and it developed into him staying with me a few nights out of the week. I enjoyed his company and didn’t feel overwhelmed, this was significant step for me because I am a serial introvert/loner who needs great amounts of time alone to be happy and functioning.We fell in love quickly and became very close. We established within a week of seeing each other that we both wanted to be in an exclusive relationship with each other.Two months in, he tells me he loves me, and that the past 2 months have been the best of his life and he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. Of course I’m elated because I feel the same and truly felt he was everything I wanted. All of it. Incredible chemistry sexually and intellectually. I thought “this was it”. No more dating apps! We’re in it for the long haul! This is awesome! I was on Cloud nine.Then Quarantine happens. Not to rub it in people faces… but being stuck together at my apartment created a a fast-tracked version of a bout of blissful intimacy. I live alone, so he would come over just about every other day. We filled the time with so many fun things- we baked weird stuff, played Trivial Pursuit, made fun dinners, built a bird feeder, went on hikes, binged TV shows. Stay up all night listening to music and laughing, sometimes having sex 4 times a day…3 times in one night… we couldn’t get enough of each other. We would just lay in bed and stare into each others eyes. It was like something out of a movie. We both have 9-5 corporate jobs, so we would work from home together as well. It was hilariously fun.As I got to know him in this intimate and accelerated courting situation, he presented to me a stable, loving, honest, intelligent and loyal man with strong values that aligned with mine.As all couples do, we shared our past relationship baggage/history. So out it comes….He had just broken up with his “girlfriend” (this is what he called her) of five years the previous summer. So he had been single for just a few months before meeting me. He said they were two different people who weren’t compatible and had no right being with each other. He said that she suffered from severe mental illness and depended on him emotionally and financially and despite being an adult woman, couldn’t support herself in any way. They met in a PHD program while in London (he’s British, she’s American) and said she was on a myriad of prescription medication and exhibited self-harming behavior.. He described it as a toxic relationship, devoid of sex and intimacy. They both moved to Boston a few years ago together and that after the break up, he said he no longer had contact with her and she lived upstate on a farm with her family and a dog they had bought together like a month before they broke up. (they bought the dog together, not the farm)It sounded messy but hey, it’s in the past. Everything is great. We’re together, life goes on. I think nothing of it, or her.Fast forward a few weeks later, he comes over to my house and as I’m cooking dinner for us, he flippantly mentions that he just got back from the farm where he had been hanging out with his ex-girlfriend and dog all day. Like so casually, as if he had just said “yeah I had a 6-inch footlong tuna at Subway for lunch”. I was floored, started shaking and just couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I was confused and felt threatened and insecure.Apparently he had driven 2 hours up to the farm where she works and claims to have “barely even exchanged 5 sentences with her” and “he just went to see his dog”. So of course I get quiet. I don’t even know what to say. He asks what’s wrong, like as in he has no idea how I could possibly be bothered by this. I explain to him that I feel that seeing her is inappropriate and I feel threatened by it. He seems surprised and says it was no big deal and he will continue to do it because he loves and misses his dog. No reassurance at all, no apology… nothing. We eat dinner in silence and I finally tell him I feel like I am second in priority to a fucking DOG and he isn’t taking my feelings into consideration.I ask him to leave. He does.He contacts me the following day and tells me that after after thinking about it, he realizes that since it bothers me, he won’t ever see her or the dog again. I felt like I had possibly come off as slightly controlling but I believed I wasn’t being unreasonable. I had been cheated on by a boyfriend in the past (his respective ex was the other woman) so this issue was a huge point of pain for me and knew this.So then things go back to normal.. or so I thought.This past Friday, while on the couch snuggling together, I see a text message notification pop up from the ex girlfriend. He slides it away and flips his phone over. He then spends the rest of the night faced away from me texting and giggling with a sly smile. I was gutted and knew something was up. After I had just cooked him homemade manicotti. THE BASTARD.We go to bed and my mind is racing. I can’t sleep. I know this is emotionally immature and an invasion of his privacy, but after he fell asleep I took his phone into my living room to look through the messages. I find what was my worst fear, he had been carrying on with her continuously without pause. I’m not sure if they ever even broke up. The messages went back even before we had met and the latest was just a few minutes before he fell asleep in MY BED with the mother fucking wine I BOUGHT in his stupid stomach. Good for her. There were many messages, hell, they even texted each other more than he and I did. He would send us both the same memes and funny twitter posts. To her credit, her responses were funnier than mine. Good for her.As I went through the messages I discovered they saw each other almost every other day (I am actually shocked at how he juggled his time so well between us). All of the messages coordinating hangouts was him pursuing her and asking her to hang out. Telling her she is cute. Saying I miss you. Driving two hours to help her move or work on their farm. She even cooked him a birthday dinner. He told me he was with his mates that’s night. Stupidly, I spent the whole night painting him something beautiful and making a ten hour braised Osso Bucco for him while he’s over at her house eating fried vegetables with staring at her dead-eyed troll looking ass.So I stayed up all night and even recorded the messages on my phone for evidence so he couldn’t try to deny anything. I popped a Xanax so I could stay calm and not break my remote control over his stupid head when he woke up. He finally woke up at six am, I told him to sit down and told him what I saw.The blood drained from his head and he started to string along a myriad of explanations… that they were “just friends” and that he feels indebted to her because she is suicidal, mentally unstable and not self-sufficient. He claims that she has no one else to talk to, has no friends and her family is pure abusive trash (even though she lives with them and they all run a non-profit farm that helps low income people eat healthy foods, what monsters they must be!)He feels like he has to take care of her because she is such a mess and a danger to herself yet this woman is a professor at a large university and is head of a farm, so I don’t know how much of a mess she could possibly be. It all sounded like a bunch of bull, but was entertaining watching him attempt to deny and lie what I had just seen in plain black and white text. I then ask him if they were married, because a text message had referenced a $2400 stimulus check and he said NO, they were just engaged. I asked him if they were still together, he said no. The cherry on top was that at no point did he apologize.He claimed that they barely talked and hardly ever saw each other, which was so brazen considering he knew what I had just seen. He said that he can’t stand when she opens her mouth and just complains all of the time. He also said that his therapist has been urging him to break communication off with her because she is toxic. Not sure if this is true. The most hurtful part of all of this is is that the day after he swore he would never see her again, he texted her asking if he could come see her and then drove up to her place to hang out.After about 15 minutes of talking, I couldn’t deal with any more of his crappy attempts at explaining so I just asked him to leave.The next day he called me and admitted to me that they were in fact married, still married and they got married in England so she could stay in the country. Is this even a thing? I asked him if they were intimate since we had been together and he said no.He keeps calling me to talk but I deny his calls. I was in love with this person, deeply. The idea of never seeing him again makes me so so so sad, yet I don’t know how this emotion can possibly exist inside me considering how much pain he’s caused me by lying, repeatedly. Should I at least hear him out even if we don’t reconcile? And if we do decide to somehow make it work, how does one even operate successfully as a couple after such breach of trust? He lied multiple times and he is swearing that this is an isolated incident and doesn’t reflect who he is as a person and his core values. My self esteem is pretty low right now and I feel like someone stuck a Taco Bell spork into my chest cavity.TLDR- My (ex, I guess) boyfriend had been hanging out with his ex-wife while we were dating who he claimed to never be married to and is trying to reconcile with me. Where do we go now? via /r/dating_advice

#dating #dating advice #reddit

[thefourthbranch]

4/23/2020 (31 days since the imposition of Marshall Law by the Governor of the state of Ohio) The Most Dangerous Man in the World

​        Dr.Anthony Fauci is dictating the national political and economic policy of this nation and, with it, the world.  As such, he is the most dangerous man in the world because he is either an idiot or a nefarious charlatan who has been ordained by the bed wetting idiots and political charlatans in the media as an 'expert.'       Remember, the death of George Washington was caused in part by the widely accepted practice of bleeding.  And who accepted this widely?  The 'experts' of what at the time was considered modern medicine.       Howard Hughes would have paid stupid money for the advice of this man.  But before you regard that as a positive endorsement, remember, Howard Hughes died prematurely in large part because he subscribed to the absurd belief that he could prolong his life by isolating himself from germs and viruses.       I encourage you to watch the Banned Video by Greg Reese at Infowars.com.

https://www.newswars.com/shocking-historian-exposes-bill-gates-ties-to-nazis-and-more/

      Therein, in January, 2017, you will see and hear Dr. Fauci predict a pandemic virus during the Trump presidency.       I tried to post the video to The Fourth Branch Facebook page but was denied because it quote: "does not meet our community standards."       Hmmm . . . I'm hard pressed to think of how the video could receive a more positive endorsement?  But let's not get sidetracked by the enemies of the First Amendment.       Now, ask yourself, how is it possible that Dr. Fauci knew that there was going to be a surprise pandemic virus during the Trump presidency --- three years before it happened?       Remember, as FDR said: "Nothing in politics happens by accident."       With that in mind, let's look at just two examples of the consequences of the 'solution' offered by Dr. Fauci. The 'solution' accurately called Marshall Law.       Let's start with the 26 million added to the unemployment lines in the last .  And remember, that for every one of those 26 million there are on average two others relying upon that lost paycheck.  This means that nearly 80 million Americans, 24% of the population, have been negatively impacted in the last 30 days thanks to the Marshall Law 'solution' of Dr. Fauci.       This past Monday, West Texas crude oil finished the day at minus $38 a barrel.  Dr. Fauci's Marshall Law 'solution' has all but destroyed the most fundamental component of our industrial infrastructure.       Now, bearing in mind that Dr. Fauci is a scientist, let's take ANOTHER look at the mathematical science of the Coronavirus that is being employed by Dr. Fauci.       Let me start by pointing out the fact that the good doctor has been inflating the death rate by adding to the death count those who have died from other ailments.  He justifies this on the basis that they also tested positive for the virus even though the virus had nothing to do with their death.  As one nurse succinctly stated: It's a bunch of bull****."       Next, the other half of the mathematical equation is the number of REPORTED cases that are being weighed against the number of deaths.  From the beginning it has been obvious that number has been criminally fractionalized in light of the fact that Dr. Fauci has been unwavering in his assertion that this is the most contagious virus in the history of man.       If you think I am being incendiary by using the term criminally fractionalized, consider these following reports from the last few days.       The headline read: "Coronavirus antibody testing finds Bay Area infections may be 85 times higher than reported: researchers"  (By Alexandria Hein - Fox News - 4/17/20) https://www.foxnews.com/health/coronavirus-antibody-testing-finds-bay-area-infections-85-times-higher-reported-researchers - Stanford University       In sum, Stanford University researchers found the number of cases in Santa Clara County, California amounted to as high as 4.1% of the County population.       This was further backed up on Monday when the headline read: "Testing shows hundreds of thousands in LA County may have been infected with coronavirus"  (By David Aaro - Fox News - 4/20/20)       The article reports: "The coronavirus outbreak in Los Angeles County is believed to have infected at least 200,000 people by early April, which would far surpass the number of officially confirmed cases, according to a report on Monday. A large scale study by the University of Southern California and the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health found that 4.1 percent of the county’s adult population has antibodies to the virus in their blood, which is an indicator of past exposure."       Now, bear in mind that from the beginning to the present Dr. Fauci and his merry little band of 'experts' have been dividing the number of deaths by the number of REPORTED cases.       As of yesterday, the number of REPORTED cases in the United States was 819,164.  The number of deaths, many of which were inaccurately attributed to the coronavirus, was 45,340.       You can find daily updates of Coronavirus statistics at: worldometers.info > Coronavirus       When you divide 45,340 by 819,164 you arrive at a mortality rate of 5.5% (.055).       Anyone that looks at that mortality rate without applying mind and reason and, more importantly, simple common sense would be inclined to an emotional reaction of fear.  That number implies that unless we isolate ourselves from exposure to this virus we stand better than a 5% chance of dying from it.  Without applying mind, reason and simple common sense the emotional reaction leads one to believe that 5 out of every 100 people are going to be dead at the end of this.       This is exactly the unreasoned, emotional reaction that Dr. Fauci and his merry little band of 'experts' were hoping for. For this afforded them the opportunity to wield power through the implementation of Marshall Law.       However, with the simplest application of mathematical science we can completely destroy Dr. Fauci's deceptive and tyrannical math.  All that is required is to take the numbers from Los Angeles County and Santa Clara County and multiply 4.1% x 330 million Americans.

      4.1% x 330,000,000 = 13,530,000 ACTUAL cases of infection.

      When you divide 45,340 by 13,530,000 the mortality rate plummets to 0.3% (.003).       Now, given that it is assumed that Dr. Fauci is so eminently brilliant that the entire world should follow his lead and implement his Marshall Law solution, how is it possible that he is not able to do simple math and apply simple common sense?       I for one do not believe this man is an idiot.  I do not believe he is incapable of doing simple math and applying simple common sense to the equation.  I believe he is a nefarious charlatan who has deliberately set this nation up for calamity which will then, of course, require further government solutions to solve the problems that he and the government have now created.       Now that he has facilitated the precedent of Marshall Law based upon speculation about a virus, imagine the degree to which Marshall Law will be imposed to deal with the crisis of an economic depression.  The depression that could very well result if we do not IMMEDIATELY abandon the path that he has set us upon.       Dr. Fauci is precisely the kind of Deep State charlatan that I address at great length in my book, We of Mind and Reason.  And the Coronavirus scam is the exact kind of emotional exploitation that I speak of in the book that has been employed for decades to advance the agenda of enslavement.  Please go to the home page of this website and purchase a copy of We of Mind and Reason.  Please join the ranks of We of Mind and Reason, The Constitutional Patriots of America, and become a voice for history's greatest instrument of Liberty, the Constitution of the United States.   Thank you, and God bless America! Rick Chase