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sunshinejins · 3 years

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if i was dying on my knees (you’d be the one to rescue me)

chapter 2! she’s here, she’s long, she’s very delayed, but she’s here. you can also read this fic on ao3 under the username joylight if you want! i’d almost suggest it as the formatting is probably a lot better lmao.

here’s the link to chapter 1

without further ado!

When Julie wakes up the next morning, she feels slightly as though she’s broken out from the surface of a very warm but turbulent lake. After her impromptu performance yesterday where oh my God she sang again, she had been dragged from the bar by her friends. Guitar Player had chased after her for a moment, before supposedly clocking the look on Flynn’s face and backing off. Her best friend had been quiet the whole drive back, and Allison, besides complimenting Julie calmly on her performance, had also remained silent. Allison’s silence was normal; Flynn’s was not. It was only when Allison rolled to a stop at Julie’s house, Flynn was supposed to sleep over, that Flynn broke the quiet.

“Actually, Allison, could you take me home?” Julie’s head whipped around so fast that she would have fallen if she was standing.

“You’re going home?”

“Yeah, I am.” Flynn’s tone was set and Allison simply pressed her lips together and pointedly looked out the window. Julie shook her head.

“Why?”

“Well you clearly didn’t need me to sing again, so I’m assuming you don’t need me to sleepover either.” Julie’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Flynn, it’s not like that. They needed me-”

“Oh so when three random hot guys you’ve never met need you, you find your voice, but when your best friend begs you for six months to sing again, you can’t do it? I see how it is, Jules.” Julie couldn’t find any words to counter that, seeing as she hadn’t processed that she had sung again, so Flynn glared pointedly at the door.

“Could you please get out so Allison can take me home?” Allison had shot Julie a sympathetic look but offered no advice, and Julie had managed to stumble from the car with her head still spinning in shock. She had managed to get up to bed without her dad or Carlos giving her any issues, but before she could really process what had happened, the adrenaline drained from her body and she had fallen asleep.

Now, laying in bed, she allowed herself a moment to put together the pieces.

She had sang again for the first time in six months.

She had sang again for the first time in six months with three random strangers.

She had sang again for the first time in six months with three random strangers in front of an entire barful of people.

Flynn was incredibly mad that she had done the above things.

And she had a shift at the coffee shop in forty minutes and it took thirty to drive there.

As she pulled on her work uniform and tugged a comb through a few pieces of her hair, Julie tried to feel something other than shock. Nothing came to mind. Maybe if she had just sang again, she would have been able to process it. But Flynn was mad at her too. That alone scrambled her brains.

Her dad simply waved as he saw her tear from the house and into her car. The radio blared for a moment and Julie hesitated. All the times before when music had started playing, she’d been quick to turn it off. Now, she hovered her finger over the off button on the radio for a second before letting it play. Another baby step, even smaller than the one she’d accidentally taken last night, but important nevertheless.

She stumbled into work two minutes before she was supposed to clock in. Allison was already there, expertly pulling shots of espresso and looking ultimately way too put together. She offered Julie a calm smile.

“Hi, Jules.”

“Clock in. Gotta. Almost… late,” Julie’s heaving breaths. Her normal parking space was filled and she ended up parking a good ten minute sprint away. And Julie is not a sprinter. She manages to swipe her card on time, locates her apron, and joins Allison at the espresso machine with her heart still pounding against her ribs. Allison’s hands move quickly enough as she assembles a line of mobile ordered lattes, and Julie takes the second of reprieve from the lack of customers in the shop to catch her breath.

Allison tucks the drinks into a carrier, and finally turns to Julie with the same calculating look she had given last night right after Julie had said the guys needed her.

“So.”

“Soooo…” Julie runs her fingers over the touchscreen of the till. Allison raises an eyebrow.

“You sang.”

“I did.”

“With total strangers.” “Yep.”

“I’m really quite fucking proud of you,” Julie’s eyes widen as Allison finally breaks eye contact and begins filling the whipped cream canister.

“You’re proud of me?” Julie’s voice squeaks and Allison sends her a smirk.

“Obviously. You finally let that killer voice out of its cage for the first time in months and you had fun. And you’re okay. That’s all that matters to me.”

“How did I do that though?” Julie asks, though she doubts Allison will have an answer. She doesn’t even know. What she does know is that when she hit the high note at the end of the song, it felt like her lungs had finally opened up again after a long time crushed under her grief and it had felt better than good. It had felt amazing. Allison sets the whipped cream down and shrugs.

“I’m not sure, Jules. Maybe you were just ready. Didn’t you say those guys needed help?”

“Yeah, I guess their rhythm guitarist bailed on them last minute,” Julie chews her lip, remembering the dejected looks on the faces of her impromptu band. She hadn’t even gotten to ask them if she had butchered the song or not.

“Then it sounds to me like your mama bear instincts kicked in a bit. That, and I’m pretty sure you were into the guitar player.” Julie’s head shoots up.

“What! I don’t even know his name! I was helping for purely unselfish reasons.” Allison raises an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t even notice his biceps? Or that smile?” Julie would normally begrudgingly admit that yes, Guitar Player was ridiculously cute. But her mind had wandered yet again to her best friend, and she felt the familiar tug of sadness at her chest.

“Flynn hasn’t texted me back.” Allison’s teasing expression falls solemn and Julie almost wished that everything had been a giant dream. She missed her, and it had barely been 24 hours. The last time they’d had a fight, Flynn had tried to egg her room. Julie didn’t even want to know what would happen this time.

Allison hasn’t given any advice, which means Flynn ranted to her the whole drive home and she’s either being very respectful or is sparing Julie the specifics. Either way, it makes her slump against the register and attempt to forget her issues as milk froths and keyboards clack around her.

Her shift passes in a blur, the post-lunch rush nearly overwhelming the small shop. Allison leaves an hour before Julie, and as she does, she lays a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Just go see her. I’m sure she won’t be as mad if you explain your thought process.” Julie desperately wants to scream that she didn’t have one, but Allison is already gone and there’s a stressed college student in front of her looking for six shots of espresso. As she pulls the shots, she mulls over the previous night in her mind.

She knows inherently that the reason she was able to perform was because someone needed her. Someone needed help. That was different than people wanting her to sing so she could get back to normal. She also knows she sang because it was a song which had nothing to do with her mother, whereas the songs she sang for class or the songs Flynn tried to get her to belt out at karaoke had all been songs her mother knew and loved. It was a complicated mix of reasons, but Julie needed to sort them out before she went to Flynn. Otherwise, the eggs were gonna come out again.

By the time she closed up the shop with hands still faintly smelling like espresso and sweet cream, Julie had basically given in to the fact that she was never going to figure out how to apologize to Flynn and that there was going to be an omelette frying on her windowsill for the next few days. Then, as she was tucking the keys into her purse, she heard the tell-tale rumble of her best friend clearing her throat. Julie’s head shot up and it was indeed Flynn, arms crossed, and bejewelled sneaker tapping a beat into the sidewalk.

“Flynn!”

“You’ve got two minutes to explain. I’m about to be towed,” Flynn jerks her head towards her car which is, naturally, parked in a drop off zone for Uber drivers. Julie nods quickly, trying to order all her thoughts from during her shift into orderly lines in her head. She needs to mention the “someone needing her” thing, and the “song her mother never knew” thing too.

All that comes tumbling out of her mouth is: “I’m sorry.” Flynn sighs.

“I know that, Jules. But you still haven’t explained why you did it. Why you sang with a bunch of random strangers!”

“I told you, they needed me!”

“Yes! You said that! But how is that any different from me needing you?”

“Because!” Julie runs her hands down her face in frustration as she tries to compose herself, “You needed me to sing because you needed me to feel better. You needed me to go back to normal and grieve and whatever. These guys just needed a fourth singer. You should have seen them. The guitar player was almost crying.” Flynn remains silent for a moment and Julie takes the silence as an excuse to guide her to a bench beside the coffee shop. The silence continues to hang over them for a moment, and Julie is shocked when Flynn finally turns to her and there are tears rimming her eyes.

“Did you feel like I was forcing you to sing? Did I push you?” Julie’s heart thaws.

“I mean, yes. A bit. And I completely understood why. But I just couldn’t sing unless I was ready, and for a bit it felt like you didn’t understand that.”

“Of course I get that, Jules! I’m sorry!” Flynn opens her arms for a hug and Julie tumbles into them without hesitation, inhaling the scent of vanilla that still clings to Flynn’s skin from her job at a bakery near the pier.

“I forgive you, don’t worry. I just hope you can forgive me too.” “Obviously. I know how you are with the “need to help everyone who needs it” thing.” Julie shoves her but her heart soars when Flynn tumbles into giggles.

“I still don’t really know how I did it,” Julie admits, tracing her toe on the concrete. Flynn frowns slightly.

“Do you think it was a one time thing?”

“Maybe?” Julie winces a bit at the thought of taking a step back again. Even though she knows healing isn’t linear, she’d really like to get over this specific part of grief a little faster. She couldn’t ignore how good it felt to belt out the penultimate lyrics of a random band’s song either. Flynn wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

“Whatever it was, I support you 100%. And those guys were super cute!”

“You’re a lesbian, Flynn.”

“I still know eye candy when I see it.” Julie bursts out laughing.

“Okay, maybe they were cute! But I’ll probably never see them again.”

She thinks.

The rest of the week goes by a lot easier knowing Flynn is no longer mad at her. When she comes to work the next day and regales Allison with the tales of how her and Flynn patched things up, Julie pretends not to notice the private smirk that overtakes Allison’s face as she mentions how Flynn showed up at work. Julie even manages an A+ on an essay the day after, and finally makes a venti half-caf skinny peppermint mocha with no screw ups at work. She listens to music again normally, and joyfully hugs her dad when he notices.

Life’s pretty normal, until of course it’s not again.

Their coffee shop hosts open mic nights a lot, and when Julie started working she requested to be scheduled away from them. When her weekly schedule comes out displaying a shift during the three hour long open mic and her heart rate doesn’t immediately rise, she’s pretty excited. She even manages to shock Allison when her friend offers to switch shifts with her and Julie heartily declines.

“Look at you go,” Allison flicks her towel at Julie, “That open mic really did something to you, huh?”

“Yeah!” Julie smiles as she restocks the caramel sauce, “I actually feel like I can be around music again.”

“I still think it was Grinny McBiceps that did a number on you, not the music.” Julie tosses a bottle of sauce at Allison which she readily catches with a surprisingly loud laugh.

“I’m just saying, Julie-”

“So that’s your name!” Both girls freeze and turn to see none other than Grinny Mc- no! Guitar Player and his band all gathered at the counter with their jaws open. Allison recovers first and arranges her face back into the cool expression she uses with customers. Julie can’t exactly manage it, because even though she’s spent the last week denying how cute these boys are, the hint of abs poking through Guitar Player’s cutoff are scrambling her brain.

“So the girl Luke can’t shut up about now has a name,” Drum Player says dryly, shoving Guitar Pl- Luke in the shoulder to break him from the trance he’s apparently entered along with Julie. Bass Player leans forward excitedly.

“We’ve been looking for you since the open mic!”

“You found me,” Julie’s voice feels dry. Luke grins at her and she feels her stomach swoop as he does.

“Where did you end up? We wanted to ask you if you wanted to jam with us again,” Luke says, leaning against the counter. Julie’s brain whirrs as she processes this, and luckily Allison steps in.

“I had an emergency. Had to take her out of there.”

“What sort of emergency?” Bass Player asks, leaning forward with a smirk and a wink. Allison raises an eyebrow.

“Forgot to take my birth control.” Bass Player chokes on air and Drum Player bursts out laughing. Luke doesn’t seem phased and turns back to Julie.

“So do you wanna? Jam with us again? We’re signing up for the open mic here.” Julie tries to shrug noncommittally.

“I dunno. I’m pretty busy.” Luke deflates, but Drum Player steps in.

“No pressure, obviously. Just if you end up wanting to play with us again, you can. You completely elevated our sound. I’m Alex, by the way.”

“Reggie,” Bass Player adds, though he still seems shaken by Allison’s words.

Julie smiles at them. Luke seems to recover some of his energy at her smile and pulls out a piece of paper from God-knows-where and a pen and scribbles something on it.

“This is my number. Seriously, call me at any time if you wanna play again. We’re totally into it. Even into having you in the band if you want.”

“Dude, stop being so intense the second you see a cute girl,” Reggie groans. Both Luke and Julie blush and it’s at this point that Allison fully steps in.

“I appreciate the business transaction that just occurred, but this is a coffee shop and not a corporate mixer. Can I get you anything to drink?” The boys chorus their orders and Julie turns to make them as Allison fends off Reggie’s renewed advances with a sigh. They leave the shop with a loud “goodbye” and Julie slumps against the counter when they leave. Allison evaluates her with a steady gaze.

“Are you going to play with them again?”

“No clue.” Julie pushes her hands into her face and groans. Allison pats her back.

“Think about it. They seemed nice.”

“Even Reggie?” If Julie hadn’t been mistaken, a hint of flush appears on the apples of Allison’s cheeks.

“Even Reggie. Now get up. You’ve got another hour left of your shift and Caleb told me I’m too nice to you.”

“Still very weird to me that you call your dad, Caleb.”

“Adoptive father,” Allison corrects and turns away before Julie can prod more as usual. She takes another second to compose herself and stow Luke’s number deeper in her pocket before turning to the stack of green tea lemonade she has to make and burying her nose in her work.

It’s later, when she’s sitting alone in her room massaging her sore feet and looking at the keyboard in her room, that Julie truly considers Luke’s offer. It’s not that she doesn’t think playing music with them again will be fun; she does. But there’s something holding her back, and she’s pretty sure it’s the four sheets of piano music laying on her keyboard.

It’s a huge step. A massive, giant, life-changing step. One her mother would want her to take. Does she want to? Julie pulls out her phone and texts Flynn, who’s in the middle of sending her opinions on episode six Outer Banks.

from: julie molina is a star

what would you say if i told you i was considering playing music with those ute guys again? slash maybe joining their band?

from: double trouble

i would say your pacing deeply confuses me.

but i am proud.

and very supportive.

Julie smiles, and sets her phone to the side and stands. Her keyboard sits in front of her, no longer mocking, but encouraging. She lifts the sheets of paper and spreads them on the stand. “Wake Up.” Her mother’s last gift to her. The last thing she needs to do before she can play music again, for real.

Julie’s pretty much fucking terrified.

But she still presses the keys.

Here's one thing I want you to know

You got someplace to go

Life's a test, yes, but you go toe-to-toe

You don't give up, no, you grow

#my writing #juke #juke fanfiction #julie molina #julie molina x luke patterson #luke patterson #julie molina fanfiction #luke patterson fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #many other tags lmao #seriously pls read this on ao3 i need validation

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johns-diqi · 3 years

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I just posted a fic in ao3 and I’m planning on drawing a few more drawings (that was supposed to be funny and it wasn’t I’m very disappointed in myself) because apparently I have 500 something followers which is INSANE EXCUSE YOU?? THANK YOU?? Um yea but I haven’t done anything for it yet so I decided to do the things :D

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #these are tru tags because the fic is mclennon so suck on that Cheryl #500 followers #ok seriously tho that is a ridiculously large number and I’m sobbing #queen band #not really but yknow #spread the news I guess #ok honestly the one thing I’m not sure about and I really need to know #EEVEE BAE if I see this pls por favor tell me if you’ve read anything of mine ever at all on here or ao3 because I need ur serious thoughts #as in I need an opinion that won’t be very sugar coated #so bestie pls give me validation or trash on me idc what it is I just needs to know #thanks ily

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bytheangell · 3 years

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Can I request some aro ace Christopher Lightwood in this trying time please? I love him too much pls don't judge me

Nothing to Fix (Read on AO3)

Christopher isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He knows that his friends mean well, and the girls they keep setting him up on dates with are all, objectively, very lovely. He doesn’t mind the time he spends talking with them, even if there’s never a second date. And there’s never a second date. It takes him a few tries to pick up on why he doesn’t want a second date, because Matthew and the others ask him every time what went wrong and every time he doesn’t have an answer. Nothing went wrong. He just doesn’t want to.

That isn’t an answer the others accept, however - surely there has to be a reason, a cause, so Christopher tries again. And again.

There’s a certain pressure of expectation upon him now that James’ engagement to Cordelia brings the two of them closer together, Matthew continues to have his fair share of romantic trysts even if nothing is serious, and Thomas and Alastair admit to liking one another. Even Lucie seems to be sneaking out to meet with a boy, though she insists she isn’t whenever suspicions arise.

Christopher doesn’t feel left out, but it’s implied that he should - that he must be lying when he says he’s not interested and perfectly content at home with his experiments while the others are out. The idea that he’s genuinely disinterested is apparently so absurd that no one even humors it.

It takes Christopher a while to realize the simplicity of the truth, and even longer to accept it, in the face of being told he simply has to try again, try harder, or find some mystical ‘right person’ who will make everything fall into place.

Once he’s certain he’s entirely content with his life as it is, no romantic or physical attachments needed, he doesn’t hesitate to tell others as much when they ask. No, he doesn’t feel the drive to go out on his own to meet new people, he enjoys the friends he has very much. And no, he certainly doesn’t have the desire to attach himself to anyone romantically or physically. It’s never felt like something he needed, or even wanted, and certainly not something he’s missing out on.

If only he could convince everyone else to believe him.

As is the recently formed routine of these set-ups, Christopher makes his way back up to their room above the pub after it’s over, greeting the eager faces of his friends with a sheepish grin, a shrug, and a shake of his head. And, as is also routine, he watches their faces fall with a sense of disappointment he doesn’t share.

Now Matthew is giving him a quizzical up-and-down. “Is it the girls? Perhaps we could find you a nice guy to date? I may know a few who would go for the eccentric scientist thing...”

“I’d rather not,” Christopher admits. “Can we please just accept this isn’t going to happen and allow me to go back to normal?”

That’s what Christopher longs for - the days when no one thought he was ‘holding himself back’ by spending his free time as he wished.

“What are you talking about? This is perfectly normal,” Thomas insists.

“Yes, normal for you. Because these things have always mattered to the lot of you, and you pursued them. But they never have for me, and that hasn’t changed. The only thing that’s changed is everyone’s insistence that they should,” Christopher points out. And it’s so obvious to him, so simple, that he doesn’t understand why the others don’t see it.

He’s never gotten upset with them about it before because he knows they have the best of intentions and are only trying to do right by him… but maybe that’s why they haven’t taken him seriously when he tries to explain himself. Maybe if he gets a little upset about it they’ll realize how frustrated he’s getting.

So Christopher adds, more forcefully this time, “I simply don’ want it. And it’d be nice to not be treated like I’m something to be fixed because of it.”

And then they do see it. Christopher can pinpoint the exact moment his words seem to register with James first, then Thomas, then Matthew. He can tell because with that realization also comes an almost immediate look of shame or guilt from each of them as they also realize how uncomfortable Christopher’s been trying to fit a role he never wanted in the first place.

“You really meant it when you said you didn’t want to date,” Matthew says slowly.

“Of course I did, why else would I say it?” Christopher rolls his eyes.

“People lie to get out of things like dates all the time, just because meeting new people can be awkward, or intimidating,” Thomas points out, but there’s a small smile on his face. “But you’re not most people, and we should’ve known that.”

“Are you cross with us?” Matthew asks. “You know we just want you to be happy, we never meant for you to feel, like--” Matthew trails off, looking to the others for help when he isn’t quite sure what to say.

“-like you need to be fixed,” James fills in, echoing Christopher’s own words back, though he seems equally unsure of how to continue. “We didn’t realize… You know we never meant to-”

“I’m not mad,” Christopher cuts in to reassure the three of them. “I know you had good intentions. And I am happy. I’m perfectly content with my life right now, and the friends and family I have. I don’t need a girlfriend or a boyfriend for that. Moreover, I don’t want one.”

“If you’re certain…” Matthew says, still sounding hesitant and a bit uncertain, like he’s trying to understand and wrap his head around an impossible concept. “And you don’t feel lonely?”

“Why would I feel lonely,” Christopher says, looking meaningfully around the group. He looks at them, and thinks of Anna, and Henry, and his own parents. He has so much love in his life that’s just as valid as any romantic or physical love. “When I’m not alone?”

“Of course you’re not,” Thomas agrees.

“Alright then. No more dates,” Matthew promises, his words paired with a firm nod.

The relief Christoper feels is so strong it catches him by surprise. He knows they don’t quite get it, and maybe they never will, at least not entirely. But they listened to him and they respected his feelings on it, and that’s a good start. It’s far from perfect and he’s certain this is only the first of many conversations on the subject, but for now, it’s enough.

As the conversation shifts to training and patrols and everything they used to discuss before all their attention focused to him and his lack of love life, Christopher gets something better than his wish that things would simply go back to the way they were before. Because now his friends look to him with a new understanding, and Christopher feels more seen than he has in a long, long while.

#christopher lightwood #tsc #tlh #Matthew fairchild #james herondale #thomas lightwood #I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG #but I guess it's fitting I finally write it during Aro Spec Awareness week #also sorry it focused a bit heavy on the Aro vs Ace vibes but you know what this is definitely something I wouldn't mind writing more of!!#or a follow-up to better address both sides maybe idk jfdslk #I hope you like it! <3 #high-warlock-of-brooklyn #ask rune #long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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idk-my-aesthetic · 3 years

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Ok the whole thing w/ clogging up ao3 tags is stupid for multiple reasons, like how it fucks with screen readers for one, but the MAJOR issue is that having too many tags isn’t actually a problem w/ ao3

Like seriously guys? There is a lot to criticize. And I say this as someone who heavily relied on fandom spaces to get me through some really really hard times and still loves ao3. I can say I love what it does for fandom while also acknowledging there’s some seriously fucked up shit going on both behind the scenes and with ppl who use the site. It’s literally like saying “I love tumblr but I acknowledge there are literal nazis on here and as a Jew/human with a working brain I hate them and that they’ve been here so long”

Like. I get u think ur sticking it to the man or whatever. And idk I partially agree bc. There’s so much nasty shit and some technically illegal shit that I don’t want to even mention! But ur not even wasting the moderators time or anything ur just being obnoxious and then everyone starts discoursing on tumblr and I’m legitimately tired of it. I don’t wanna see ppl defending gross stuff and I’m tired of talking about the ppl who do defend gross stuff bc I don’t wanna remember that they exist bc I have shit to do irl and not enough space in my brain for them

So. Idk ima propose at least a temporary solution before I have to hear one more argument for or against censorship bc y’all seriously don’t understand how to have a nuanced conversation

How about instead of asking AO3 to take down gross fics (which may or may not be morally correct but will 100% reopen a very over done conversation) instead we ask for some specific plausible things

1) when you use ao3 explicit and unrated fics are automatically filtered out. They do this on ff.net. Yes it may be like 2 extra clicks for ppl who wanna read explicit stuff but ppl who don’t are going to do that anyway, and it protects the people who don’t know to do that and don’t want to read graphic tags. Most importantly it requires consent to browse explicit fics. Yeah you need to give consent to read explicit stuff, but you can look through the incredibly graphic tags/summaries without consenting to anything. It’s literally the default. Which is both upsetting to ppl who don’t wanna see that and also maybe a bit of a legal loophole they should close up

2) a “suggest tags” feature. This would be moderated by authors not ao3 staff. Basically ppl can like..... idk entire a series of tags and you can choose if you want to add them or not. The person submitting them has an option to be anonymous or not. Obviously the author doesn’t have to add every random tag and it might be annoying but it would help with making sure triggers got tagged. It would be helpful if it didn’t let you suggest tags that were already suggested/on the fic but I’m not too picky. Like I said the point of this is to make sure ppl can block stuff properly, and it honestly might also help authors with visibility bc like. Obviously you know the tags you use but you don’t know what tags other ppl look for. Again maybe it may be obnoxious with ppl having a lot of tags but people already have a lot of tags

3) a dispute rating button. Now before someone bitches at me that the ao3 moderators don’t have time to go through disputes- I know I already took that into consideration. Basically the idea is when you dispute the rating the site will ask you what rating you think it should be and anonymously log it. So if someone rated something M but you think it should be an E the site will log that and send a message to the author. The author has a choice if they actually want to listen to ppl and change the rating or not. They don’t actually have to listen to the ppl disputing the rating. Unless they get a certain amount of disputes. I was thinking maybe like 50 or so?* So if 50 ppl say “hey this really needs to have a different rating” then and only then would the moderators take a look at the fic. And the moderators would then figure out what the rating should be.

(*idk if 50 is the right #. I was thinking it should maybe work on like a percentage of your hits in the fic?)

3.5) have a sexual content marker. This is marked as 3.5 bc i feel like this idea if implemented would be misused. But yeah in theory you could just have a sexual content marker that could be clicked by the OP and then automatically filtered. Again you could use the system from #3 but again I feel like ppl would missuse it.

Anyway yeah. I wanted to give some viable solutions ppl on both sides might actually agree with. Like I get not wanting to make concessions with gross ppl, but it’s a lot faster so I’m ok with doing it for now while the rest of y’all continue to debate or w/e

Final note- please for the love of g-d learn how ratings work. Ask someone else’s opinion if you have too. I have seen so many explicit fics marked as mature or teen it’s a legitimate problem. I’ll give a quick rundown of what each rating means but pls guys

General- g- basically go by what you’d see in a Disney cartoon

Teen- pg/pg 13 - there are swears there’s violence, sex may be mentioned, you might call someone sexy or smthn idc, but no one is shown having sex or or discussing/thinking about it in detail

Mature- R - injuries/gore may be described with more detail. Uhh there could be some heavy making out and the characters might talk about sex or feeling sexually attracted to someone. But actual sex is not shown!! If you have to mention or refer to someone’s genetalia in any sexual way you should probably move it up to an E. Even if ur characters are fully clothed the entire time. Also If you’re talking about kinks outside of a quick joke or reference you should probably move it up to an E.

Explicit- NC 17- sexually explicit content. (You can put non-sexual violent stuff under here but most ppl leave it under mature)

TLDR/oversimplification(for the ratings) -

General: nothing sexual

Teen: implied sex

Mature: refrenced sex

Explicit: shown sex

General tldr:

Some criticisms of Ao3 are valid and needed, and some are just stupid and infuriating (specifically talking about the tag thing stop it’s annoying and ableist). There is constant arguments and drama surrounding those criticisms, and I decided to offer some solutions that actually have a chance at getting implemented, even if I would prefer a different option.

#ao3 #ao3 drama #ao3 tags #I’m really swinging a bat at a bees nest huh #shipping discourse #ao3 discourse #I don’t want anyone to come yell at me for either defending OR demonizing ao3 #please understand that I can have a nuanced opinion where I both love and greatly dislike it at the same time #also I’m tagging this with shipping discourse and shit but pls don’t bug me about that #literally all I have to say on it is a) don’t harass ppl b) don’t do gross shit c) if someone likes something harmless don’t be a d*ck #and d) u are not immune to criticism #if you get called out for being racist or gross you don’t get a get out of jail free card just bc we’re online #if you hand sew a nazi flag ppl are allowed to get mad even if it’s ur hobby #if you harass someone by mail your going to jail #don’t do shit online you wouldn’t do irl and expect 0 consequences #this is several bees nests and I am a coward so I’m posting this and immediately going to bed

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bitch-i-migth-be · 4 years

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Crash Course | Chapter 06: That one weird uncle-godfather-almost-parent-figure-thingy that refuses to go away because you're a walking disaster and they love you to pieces (sometimes literally)

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman,

Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Vlad Masters,

Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Random ghosties mentions *boo*, Vlad Fucking Masters Everyone, OC.

Words: 5′195

Tags: Sibling bonding, Shenanigans, Swearing, Quasi Family dinners, cuddling, ghost core shenanigans, OC, Ghost King Danny, Vlad being vlad

Chapter Summary: Vlad.exe has started ‘the scheming’. These kids are tired. And another agent of Chaos is here.

A/N: I can’t believe I can get away with using that title.

Why is no one stopping me?

As the writer, I reserve the right to withhold information for now. Remember what I said about taking liberties?? Yeah, still doing that. Roll with me, pls-

Good news! This and another chapter more before Gotham! Fucking finally.

-.-.-.-

THIS IS ON AO3, IF ANYONE WOULD PREFER TO READ THERE. LOVE COMmENTs so if u have anything to say IwillBeReallyHappyYesThankU

CHAPTERS: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

-.-.-.-

Vlad considered himself a man of simple pleasures.

If something caught his attention and would make him happy then he went and got it.

Not caring about what other people might think about his choices. If his happiness was on the line what other people had to say was irrelevant. Unless said people were influential enough to affect his future, in which case he had to tread carefully. But he never gave up on what he had put his sights on.

This way of thinking had accompanied him since he was a young lad and It didn’t seem like it was going to change anytime soon. If his experience with Jack and Maddie hadn’t made the trick he didn’t know what possibly could.

At the time, meeting Jack Fenton at the University of Wisconsin had opened the door to new possibilities. The man got so pumped up that he seemed to exude cheer all over the place, it was a sharp contrast to the dull family Vlad had left behind in his search for higher education, for something better than the leftovers they hoped would make him happy.

What Jack brought to the table was new. A field of study no one had ever researched before, not like this, not with proper scientific evidence.

So he had let himself get dragged along. Just to see what it was like. A shot in the dark, so to speak.

It was enough to intrigue him.

To the point that Vlad, who until that point was gunning for a major in business, had upgraded to a double major to include engineering, with a personal-extra-side of whatever the hell he needed to know to make sense of the things Jack kept spouting around like a complete madman.

With the proper knowledge, and even more intrigued, Vlad had come to realize that while Jack seemed like a goofball at first sight, there was some backbone to his theories. That had just sealed the deal.

And then Maddie came along. crashing into them with all the brilliance of a shooting star.

Madeline, who had been the cherry on top. Beautiful, passionate, and headstrong. Well on her way to becoming an amazing engineer with the meanest right hook Vlad had ever seen.

He had become infatuated. It was almost laughable how hard he had hit the ground running with that one.

It went downhill from there with him none the wiser.

They had shared hopes and dreams with Vlad in a way not even his blood family had. Become his best and only friends. And he was sure that with time and careful planning Madeline could become more.

Could anyone blame him for thinking this could be what a true family was like? For thinking that this was it.

They had been his everything, and as such he would have done anything within his power to lay the world before them.

Which made their betrayal hurt deeper.

He had failed to see, as submerged as he was in his little happy bubble and the research, the growing distance between them and him, the sneaking around, the way they had started to look at each other. The distraction that had lead to mistakes

Irreversible mistakes.

Ones they hadn’t stuck around for.

He had been a complete mess after that.

He had carried on. Once out of the hospital he has persevered and achieved everything that got on his way, and if he used a little bit of ghostly help that was no one’s business but his. And maybe he would have been happy with that, but there was always that little thorn that seemed to be stuck to his core. He had tried to play the fool. It hadn’t worked. And it wasn’t even his style, to begin with.

So when the opportunity presented itself to try and fix some of what he had lost in the past, he took it.

He had planned to barge in guns blazing. And he did. But he hadn’t been expecting the pair of scrawny teens he had been presented with. Much less for one of them to have been subjected to the same affliction that haunted his days. Just that the brat had it worse because it had been his parents who had half-killed him and not his best friends.

Vlad would find out later about what exactly happened in the Fenton’s basement and laugh bitterly while sipping cognac because that made it even more ironic.

He had thought about it long and hard. And decided to accept the child as his apprentice and honorary son. The kid was in urgent need of some proper training. A pair of meals for him and his sister wouldn’t hurt either — as blind as he had been back then, he was coherent enough to still recognize the mistake that was letting either of his ‘friends’ in the kitchen. — He was deliberately choosing to disregard their parent’s crime in order to help them.

He was amicable like that. Kind, even.

If only the ungrateful little badger cooperated.

jasmine, who had eventually realized what exactly was going on — The man had seen it coming from miles away, the girl was smart and her disaster of a brother kept stumbling around town as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was distressing to witness. — and not just the surface passive-aggressive way they sniped at each other in public, would help him realize that he had been going all wrong about approaching Daniel.

He had been treating him like he used to treat the boy’s parents

The older Fentons had never treated him seriously, so he always had to find dramatic ways to make them go along with what he wanted. Come to think of it, he had done that with a lot of people…

So, he had unconsciously regressed to his college years. Never a good stage to revive. It had obviously led straight to disaster, and he might or might not have neglected his business in the meantime. Thankfully, Jasmine had taken it upon herself to snap him out of it. Trying to run for mayor in a town in the middle of nowhere. Him. A goddamned Billionaire. What was he even thinking?

Obsessions were a dangerous thing. He would need to be more careful in the future.

To summarize, Jasmine had been, as much as it pained him to accept it, most helpful in their little chats on how to deal with teenagers.

Now, he realized, the desire to keep striving for his beloved Madeline’s hand was putting a dent in his interactions with the little badger, and even his sister would show reluctance if he went a little too far. And if he wanted to educate this childr- child, educate this child properly, that was not going to help him to accomplish his goals.

He was a businessman. He knew when risks were acceptable. Knew what investments would not be profitable.

There was a reason he had managed to convince the University of Wisconsin to finance their research when there wasn’t any concrete proof of ghosts, a reason he had managed to become a millionaire. Other than sleight of hand. That is.

In the end, the final choice was pretty obvious.

Having his obsession slowly shift targets after meeting the kids had been quite the experience.

Especially because he, self-made billionaire, the man on top of everything, who had fingers in all of the biggest pies out there, The Vlad Masters Himself, had not seen it coming.

-.-.-.-

Vlad would love to say he exhorted the best place to eat out of the boy. But really. Once Vlad said he was paying Daniel was more than happy to shoot for the tastiest and expensive things the siblings normally couldn’t afford. Jasmine was not openly contributing to her brother’s effort to suck him dry of money, but she was not stopping him either.

He didn’t have any proof those two could communicate telepathically but by this point, he felt he didn’t need any. They probably had some sort of silent signals. The sneaky little shits.

The man didn’t mind. Not really. He got the brats all for himself, after all. It was a win-win situation.

“So,” he started with a hum “What happened with the box ghost?” Vlad inquired

The boy glared at him. Vlad smirked. Jasmine was making a great job at feigning deafness while looking completely done with them.

“I dealt with him accordingly.”Danny glowered, stabbing his burger with a fork. The billionaire wasn’t sure if that was meant to make a point or the teen went feral on automatic these days even with his food. “The fuck, Vlad. I thought we were in peace mode.”

“Excuse you, child. I didn’t have anything to do with that. It was just making a simple question.” Which was mostly true, Vlad wouldn’t lower himself to the point of using such an annoying ghost as a lackey. He just liked to poke fun at little badger “And even if I had, that was before I called a truce. It would have been completely valid.”

Daniel just grumbled, conceding the point, and continued mangling the food on his plate. The little heathen.

Having lost the attention of the boy, he took a sip of his drink and turned to look at the other sibling.

“You convinced them to do your research in ghosts, hm?”

“Not like it was hard.” she was eating at a more sedate pace than her brother, but still a little faster than would be considered appropriate in polite company. “Thanks to a pair of someones.” she sniffed at them. Danny smiled at her but kept his mouth closed and otherwise occupied with food. Vlad just hummed in quiet approval.

“Good job.” then he frowned. “But also, why?”

“Why what?”

“Not the best place you could have chosen to do that, is it now?”

“Maybe not the most agreeable, no.” She conceded, reaching over to take a napkin. “But it is the best place for my purposes.”

“Why though?” He insisted, hoping for a proper explanation.

“Why not?” she retorted, the picture of innocence taking another bite. Vlad sighed and rolled his eyes, he kept forgetting she could be as bad as her brother sometimes.

“Does it matter, old man? We are going anyway.” Daniel finally joined the conversation again, waving one of his french fries in an extremely judgy manner in Vlad’s direction “I didn’t pull all those strings in the zone for you to come complaining and think we are backing down just because you don’t like it.“

“Oh ho, strings, you say?” Vlad mocked, “Would that have anything to do with the reason why Skulker came to me seeking refuge with his tail between his legs?”

Daniel almost choked on his next bite. Enough that Jasmine started looking worried, most likely about whether or not she would have to use the Heimlich on him. She relaxed when her brother finally sucked some air into his lungs just to immediately start laughing.

“It does have some relation, yes” Jasmine took over for her brother, seeing as he was too busy making an impression of the lion king’s hyenas. It was a good thing they were in the more private part of the restaurant. “We, um, had to get creative.”

Vlad just raised both his eyebrows at her, and with a background of her brother’s cackles, she finally acceded to give in some ground.

“I have a theory, and frankly, it would be faster if I do this in Arkham. For a bunch of reasons I don’t feel comfortable discussing at the moment.” Jasmine offered, “Plus, seeing as Danny is insisting on tagging along and at the moment he can’t really afford to leave Amity for longer than necessary-” Hearing that made Daniel come back from his endless snickering.

“Hey! don’t try to pin this on me. This was all you-!”

After that, a free for all started between the siblings and Vlad stopped listening, feeling honest to the ancients offended. Couldn’t afford to leave longer? Please, Vlad could fix that in a jiffy, they just needed to ask- but nooo, the brats always had to go to the extremes for everything.

Although Vlad had to admit that Jasmine most likely had good reasons — If Daniel had said it, he wouldn’t even contemplate the validity of such a loose statement — for saying it would be faster doing it in Gotham- ugh, he had to stop himself from sneering just at the mention of the place.

He had decided to open a branch office for one of his companies in the damned city and it had been nothing more than a headache in the last years. He had opted to send people over from the other branches to take care of everything rather than hiring people from Gotham to fill the spots available.

After a pair of months of operations, it had become obvious that the place wasn’t working as smoothly as any of his other offices all over the world.

It seemed like his employees didn’t have the spine to deal with the city’s threats properly. And hiring more Gothamites, who were guaranteed to have a spine on behalf of being raised in the place, would just make the mess bigger without him there to supervise.

Which he hadn’t had the time to do.

Come to think of it, the only reason he hadn’t taken it into his own hands was because-

His train of thought stopped right in its tracks, eyes snapping open as he took a long look at the kids in front of him.

They seemed to have stopped discussing at some point, but the teenaged halfa was currently trying to steal some food from the plate of the young lady at his side. His sister, on retaliation, was moving her fork in an exaggerated stab motion to discourage her thieving little brother.

“Oh,” he uttered under his breath, as good as speechless and unable to take his eyes off them.

I didn’t take matters of Gotham into my own hands because of them.

The thought, and the implications that came along with it, struck him so suddenly that they left him startled enough to start laughing without care for present company.

Oh, this was too good!

Daniel was watching him warily. As if Vlad showing any kind of amusement was a sign of danger. Which, considering, was fair enough.

Jasmine just took the opportunity the distraction lent her to keep eating peacefully before her brother got any other funny ideas about food-thievery.

Vlad put his elbow on the table, interlacing his fingers so he could rest his chin on the joined hands, smirking and allowing himself to let out some random chuckles from time to time. Seeing the boy get all ruffled up was fun. Especially when he hadn’t done anything yet.

‘Yet’ being the keyword.

Oh, this was going to work perfectly after all.

-.-.-.-

After eating their fill and doing some more quasi civilized talking they finally got some dessert and the siblings took the opportunity to order some take-out to have for breakfast. It was never a bad thing to secure food beforehand, and Vlad had seemed agreeable enough.

Way too agreeable if you asked Danny. But food was food, and there wouldn’t be no looking at horses’ mouths in this household, no sir.

Vlad said his goodbyes claiming to have urgent business to attend to, and vanished into the night like the dramatic pseudo-vampire-ghost he had always aspired to be.

Why the man had bothered to come all the way to Amity Park if he had work to do was beyond Danny, but good riddance. His random giggles were starting to creep him out.

Once he was sure the fruit loop was not coming back and they were truly alone on the sidewalk, the teen turned around to his sister and found her stifling a yawn on her hand. A quick look at his phone confirmed that it was already pretty late, and having a full stomach always made Jazz get all lethargic on him. He would too, but that was why he consumed coffee religiously, unlike his sister who preferred the occasional vitamin drink.

So he resigned himself to playing pack mule yet again and let her lean on him so they could start their trek back home. A trek that would be slow as fuck, because Jazz kept insisting on using him as a pillow while they walked rather than focusing on using her feet properly.

She was lucky he loved her and had ghost cheat codes to support her weight, otherwise the night would have ended very differently.

Danny huffed and let her snug closer to him.

Now they just needed to sneak into the house without alerting their parents.

Yey.

-.-.-.-

Jazz had to give it to Danny, he was the best cuddle partner she could have asked for in a brother.

Though she could admit that her brother’s temperature could fluctuate wildly sometimes while sleeping because of his ghost-core-thingy or other random ghost power, whichever it was at the time had made it a little awkward for them to share sleeping quarters when one of them needed the comfort.

Luckily, they had found ways to deal with the temperature clashes. In summer it was easier to deal with them because in that season her brother’s often chilly nature was a complete godsend. Winter was trickier but there was nothing a pair of isolation blankets couldn’t manage, and when Danny’s powers decided to be contrary and transform him into a living heater, Jazz was more than happy to take advantage of it.

They had a few space blankets too, Jazz was pretty sure Vlad had gotten those just for Danny, but her brother had been rather tight-lipped about them, even if he clearly loved them.

So here they were, sprawled on the bed with Jazz’s arms firmly around her brother’s waist and half her face buried against his upper chest, rejoicing in the coolness emanating from the spot.

She had been awake for a little while but couldn’t make herself let go of her little bro. After they had sneaked in — after Danny had half-dragged her in — they had ended up crashing in her room. This for two important reasons, first because Danny’s room was still a mess after their parents threw all the equipment they could their way, and second because she had refused to let go of her newly acquired pillow. So her bedroom it was.

Ugh, she would get hungry eventually and would have to go downstairs for their breakfast effectively separating her from the cuddles. Jazz released a little grumble and buried herself deeper into the embrace.

The only up-side was that she would only have to heat their food and not make it from scratch. As long as she managed to avoid their parents and make it back upstairs she could rejoin her brother without interruptions and-

“Good morning, Princess Jasmine! ”

Wha-?

Jazz lifted herself and turned her head towards the voice so fast she immediately regretted it. There went her neck. she winced and raised a hand to carefully massage her nape. It would never work the same way again. At least she could see the source of the unfamiliar voice now and it left her perplexed.

There was a ghost on the window sill.

Why was there a ghost on their windowsill?

As a general rule, most ghosts tended to stay the fuck away from the Fenton house once they got out of the zone, so this development was very strange. Then again, Jazz had never seen this ghost before.

It was a female ghost, that was clear, and her hair-

Jazz had to blink a few times, completely awestruck at the number of colors her brain was trying to process at the same time.

She really had rainbow hair. What the-?

The apparent twenty-somethings female ghost had her hair done on a perfect half-up ponytail and displaying all the colors in the visible spectrum, she was clad in a cute summer dress that seemed to be patched up with- were those postage stamps? and a pair of lace-up sandals. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, a giddy smile stamped on her face. She was glowing. literally.

Meanwhile, Jazz had not bothered to change clothes before going to sleep or even tied her hair up into a bun, and now it looked like she had gotten trapped in one of her parent’s ghost traps. She managed to stifle the urgent need of running to the nearest mirror to tame down her hair as much as she could. She was feeling tacky all of a sudden.

Ugh. She felt like a hobo just looking at her. she had patches on her dress and she was still pulling it off. Maybe that was the ghost’s thing? making other girls felt like vagabonds with just her presence. Jazz blinked a pair of times, brain finally processing the other girl’s words, and becoming even more baffled by the living — animated? embodiment? — rainbow’s presence.

Had she just called her ‘princess’?

“Um, hi?” Jazz finally greeted her, she sent a look to her still slumbering brother and debated on whether or not she should wake him. On one hand, he had been running himself ragged the last weeks getting everything in order so she was reluctant to do it. On the other hand, there was a ghost on the window. A rather cute one, but still.

Choices. choices.

The redhead turned her whole attention towards the ghost again. Well, she looks calm enough, and has not set anything on fire or attempted any kidnapping yet, so-

“Sorry, I’m still rebooting. Do I know you?” Jazz went on, trying to get some sort of grip on the situation.

“Not really, but I have heard plenty about you.” the ghost beamed, just to falter suddenly and offer a chagrined smile “I must have seemed very rude.”

“My name is Iris.” She finally presented herself and jabbered on while pointing at the little cloth string bag resting on her hip. “I’m the Infinity Realms’ Official Messenger. And I have a few packages for both of you, my lady.”

“The Zone’s messenger?” Jazz parroted back. She had never heard about a messenger in the zone, but it was a rather big place and there were things even Danny hadn’t heard about, so it was a possibility. “And just Jazz is fine, thank you.”

The skittle girl just smiled. “Yes, I made the rounds earlier and there were some packages for the crown prince,” she said, confirming the reason for her presence in the room.

Ok. She could deal with ghosts addressing her brother with titles. And messengers? messengers were fine in her book. She could deal. She got this. Still-

“Danny was in the zone yesterday, though? Why would they wait until now and not just take advantage of his visit?”

“There are some fragile things in here, and your brother seemed to be getting- uh, quite busy yesterday,” she replied, clearly amused. “The senders didn’t want to risk it. So here I am!”

With that declaration, she opened her little bag and started to unload a staggering amount of packages and even some mail into neat little piles. Great, more things to pack. How some of them could get into such a tiny bag was a mystery, but that was probably just ghost zone physics. Or magic. Maybe both.

“Oh, thank you.” Jazz just conceded. It was better to just go along. Iris hummed in acknowledgment, still organizing everything and explaining to Jazz where each pile had come from and some extra information that the messenger had found interesting on her rounds.

She was quite lively for a ghost.

“Pandora in particular was rather twitchy yesterday about not catching your brother for a chat. Did you know she is having a gathering next month?” Iris gushed at her in low whispers, with all the air of a gossipy neighbor that couldn’t separate himself from their windows. “It’s a shame you will not be accompanying them for the festivities.”

“But Isn’t that just for amazons..?” Jazz asked from her seat on the foot of the bed, where she had moved to have a better view of the things the other ghosts had sent to Danny and her.

“Yes.”

“…I think I missed something.”

“Haven’t you heard?”Iris giggled. Getting a pen and notepad out of her bag and starting to write something down, she presumably used that to keep inventory. “You are both part of Pandora’s honorary amazons.”

The redhead’s eyes widened. “She can do that-?”

“I mean she is the Queen of the Amazons on this side of the pond, so-” the messenger replied, tapping her pen against her chin and looking up in thought.

“Wait, does that mean Tucker and Sam are honorary amazons too?” Jazz startled at the sudden sound of her brother’s voice coming from behind her. He was practically on top of her now, still looking half asleep but definitely awake now. She hadn’t even felt him move.

“Good morning, Lord Phantom!” Iris beamed at him from her spot on the ground among the still growing piles. “For what its worth, I think so, yes.”

Danny couldn’t help himself. He started cackling.

“Seriously, Danny?” She pursed her lips at him in disapproval.

“You don’t understand. They are going to flip, Jazz. Pandora can count me in.” He gushed, finally getting a hold of himself.

“She already did. Weren’t you listening to me, My Crown Prince?” Danny sighed.

“I did bubblegums. Sounds amazing.” her brother had already given her a nickname, or many for what she knew, so he probably had met the messenger before this. “So you were talking about some go-away gifts” Jazz sighed and rolled her eyes.

“They are called farewell gifts, Danny” jazz corrected.

“Whatever. It’s almost the same.” he waved his hand dismissively and looked down at what Iris had just laid down. “You got way too many things there. You are almost done or..? “

“Yep! I was actually just making time until you woke up.” She admitted sheepishly, lifting the last package that had come out of the bag and had been all by its lonesome amid the others and passing it along to the halfa. “Your Order is ready, Majesty!”

Jazz watched her brother extend a hand to take the package but his face reflected puzzlement at her words rather than excitement at finally receiving something he ordered.

“Direct from the FarFrozen and the Acropolis, Sir Casper!”

With those words, Danny seemed to snap wide awake, “already?” He didn’t waste any time in seating properly and opening the package. Jazz took the opportunity to peer into it.

“Jewelry?”

Danny jus hummed back in response and started examining the little jewelry box inside

“you ordered jewelry?” Jazz asked again, a little confused because even if his brother didn’t mind using the occasional accessory it was not like him to own them. Her brother —as well as herself — was more of a borrowing person “Ghostzone’s jewelry?”

“Yep.”

“why?”

“why not?” Jazz debated tackling him to the ground and tickling him until he talked, but considering they had company the redhead didn’t know very well yet and thus was not completely comfortable around, forcing Danny to spill the tea would have to wait.

The little shit probably knew it too and was openly smirking at her.

“hey, colorfalls?” Danny called to Iris

“Yes, winter pools?”

“Am I imagining things or this is way more than what I asked for?”

“The crafters outdid themselves, didn’t they? The Pan Queen said it happened because you ‘didn’t specify for shit so you better suck it up, brat.’ The Yeti-man said something too, but it was long and boring, so I forgot~” She ended sheepishly.

“Well, that’s helpful.”

“wouldn’t they have explained it in the letters?” Jazz offered, bringing his attention to the pair of envelopes under the probably-handcrafted box.

Danny grabbed them and grumbled. “Probably. But, ugh, reading.”

Jazz tried to snatch the letters from his hand. Danny dodged her lunge and moved the letters out of her reach.

“Thought you didn’t want to read them.” Jazz sassed.

“That I don’t want to do it, doesn’t mean I won’t do it. There is a difference, carrot cakes.”

“Well, get on with it then, cakesicle.”

They could have continued sniping at each other, as they were fully prepared to do so until Iris talked again.

“I better get going and leave you to it. Places to be, gossip to spread. You understand.” She declared with a playful smile and hopped up from the ground and attached her cloth bag to her hip again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jasmine.”

She made her way to the window waving her goodbyes as she went, the siblings waved back a little entranced by the sway of her hair.

Danny looked thoughtful, he seemed unsure for a moment and ended up waiting until the last moment to call after her.

“Hey,” The girl turned around to raise an eyebrow at him in question. Danny smiled at her and pointed a finger towards her little cloth bag.

"Do you think I could get one of those?”

-.-.-.-

“Jazz”

“Yeah?”

“How long was she here for before I woke up?”

“She-” Jazz stopped herself and really thought about it. “I, I don’t actually now? I think she was already sitting on the window sill when I woke up”

Her brother had gone suddenly quiet, watching intently through the window Iris had just left.

“She has a- quite bubbly personality. Good to know there is someone like her around.” She offered, trying to break the tense silence that had enveloped them.

“I once saw her knock-out Walker from a single blow,” Danny replied, finally turning to look at his sister. Jazz’s eyes widened.

“She what?”

“He threatened the network.” Danny deadpanned. “One does not simply threaten the network, Jazz” he stressed, seemingly trying to make the importance of a network she didn’t know anything about very clear to Jazz.

“…That sounds really ominous.”

“She moves around human merchandise in the zone.” Danny explained, “She has- umm, I think you could say she has a thing for humans.”

“…”

“I’m not telling you this to make you wary of her.” Her brother said after the lack of a proper answer, carefully keeping eye contact with her. “Walker was being an ass, he deserved it. Jolly Beans is very helpful around the zone. Has even helped me with a pair of things. A real pal, she is. But-” Danny sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair in exasperation.

“Just- Just don’t mess with her gossip mags ”

-.-.-.-

“Hey, Danny?” She probed, going through one of the ‘care packages’ that had been sent to them, “Do you think the ghosts know humans don’t wear these types of clothing anymore? They are cute, but-”

“I’m going to tell them.”

“Don’t you dare.”

-.-.-.-

ENDNOTES:

Say hello to Iris, everyone :)

She is one of my agents of chaos. She got the Job 5 minutes ago when she bitch slapped me with her bag and the pOssIbiLItieS.

(Not to be confused with intrepid reporter, Iris West, that might or might not appear here. )

-.-.-.-

Me, writing about sciency stuff, major and double majors like I know what I’m talking about: seems legit.

-.-.-.-

It’s fucking sad when the reasons you used to love someone end up becoming the same reasons you end up hating them.

-.-.-.-

I don’t remember if Vlad used Boxy as a lackey? If he did, let’s pretend he didn’t.

-.-.-.-

Vlad to Danny and Jazz through all this fucking fanfic:

-.-.-.-

The moment when your weird-murderous-uncle is actually more responsive to your ‘How-To-Parent’ talks than your actual parents.

Press F to pay respects.

-.-.-.-

I just want to let you know that one of the reasons Danny curses like a sailor is because he has a great respect for Pandora and that woman puts sailors to SHAME.

-.-.-.-

Did the show care about historical accuracy? no. Do I? That’s also a no.

-.-.-.-

The ghost jewelry will come back later to bite all of us. Be patient.

-.-.-.-

Danny is the Elsa to Jazz’s Anna.

-.-.-.-

UPdate on the JJ Ship!

I just imagined Bruce looking at this tiny (but feral) red-head psychologist interning in Arkham and seeing how good she is for Jason and just pulling a Mulan’s Grandma when Jason asks her to have dinner with them, like:

“WoulD YouU like TO sTAy FOREVEr?!?”

And Dick with, like, a banner and streamers behind him, fully supporting the notion.

And-aND! then on the eventual-some-years-in-the-future-engagement party:

Jazz: “Jay? Seems your family invited someone to help us celebrate the engagement.” Jason: “Really? Who?” Jazz *Opening the door that leads to the Mansion’s garden that is currently full to the freakin’ brim and deadpanning*: “Gotham.”

{(And all the fucking league. Let’s be real people-)}

Can u Imagine the wedding? The absolute chaos?? If you think the ghosts aren’t crashing the party or even demanding to hold a ceremony in the zone u are a FOOL.

bECAUSE If DanNo is theIr HighKING, Guess who is their MoTHErFUCkING PRINCESS.

It’s what she deserves.

My god, Jazz would look so pretty in a wedding dress.

I’m crying.

Danny would definitely sob.

Send tissues.

-.-.-.-

Great.

Now I want to write about the wedding and they haven’t even met in here yet.

*wishful sighing*

The struggles of a shipper-

-.-.-.-

These goddamned endnotes are getting bigger and bigger.

-.-.-.-

I’m still thinking over Danny’s SO. Guess who. Yes. You are right. It’s the Demon Spawn. You KNOW who I mean. I didn’t make them be a year apart in age just for the giggles. Like, I was aiming for Bros Wreaking Havoc when I started this but then The Shipper Feels struck me dead plus-if-Jazz-is-getting-a-wedding-out-of-this-then-why-the-fuck-not and here we are. What do u think?? Because it’s most likely happening. Though, this one is going to burn slowly, because these boys.

And, wtf. Why didn’t anyone tell me Bruce and Selina almost got married?? I don’t know what happened to prevent it but I cAlL foUl.

Who wants a wedding. I want a wedding.

-.-.-.-

Me: Writes like 40 pages of this fic Also me: They are random scenes in different chapters and I’m still struggling to wrangle everyone into some sense of order and coherency.

The first twenty-something chapters already have titles and brief summaries so that’s something?? I can’t see the light at the end of this tunnel.

If you have ideas about things you would like to read about? Between the Bats and the DP Characters? Interactions and blabla? You can write them in the comments and I will see if I can fit some in :D

I have more or less decided where this is going, but I still need to enrich the chaps, SO, this might take a while. The good thing is that they will probably be way better now that I have Some Plot and I’m not just running blind all over the google doc.

-.-.-.-

Really, tho, if you have some headcanons about the characters? Bless. I need help with Steph and slightly less with Cass.

I have some plans for Cass. Steph is the one worrying me.

-.-.-.-

Chapter 9 will be their arrival to Gotham! I. am. happy.

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chut-je-dors · 4 years

Text

Mclennon fandom, READ.

Unfortunately we've had a 12-year old soul on me and Puck’s Discord server who managed to HACK a member’s Discord and AO3, sending messages under their name and editing their fics by deleting the work body. The hacker has been a lurker on the server, consequently there will be nuking of those who haven’t spoken a word since joining the server (or whom we don't personally know). The server is meant to be a safe space, and we can't have a child rampaging around and annoying people.

Same person has been leaving hilarious hate comments on AO3 under the anon username “bitch pls” and “fuckyou”, which I encourage you NOT to take seriously, because this is a child (or at least someone with the mind of a 12-year old) leaving them. Please keep that in mind if you take a defensive stance.

Neither should you let those comments get to you. They’re written by someone who’s looking for attention and validation through the wrong measures, so best is if you ignore them completely. If you want to see an example of the hate comments, check my latest oneshot “Day 1: Phone Sex”. (rip spank bank challenge, but i’ve been bUSY. R I P) Lad is a troll, and if you ignore them, they should eventually stop commenting. ‘Cos ykno, not getting a rise out of people is boring :(

From now on (and if you got nuked but wanna come back), if you want to join the server for our streams, please send a PM to either me or @imaginebeatles, and we’ll verify who you are and give you the invite link. You can also contact me by email ([email protected]) or telegram (https://t.me/sahryem)

Now that there is a 12-year old hacker creating (minor) havoc in the fandom, I suggest some carefulness for all of us. Please consider the following:

1) change your fandom passwords to something strong and unique! (the kid managed to get the member’s password via a weak email password, so like, LONG, STRONG PASSWORDS, LADS)

you can use a password manager, i use lastpass which is free and works great. i also generate all my passwords there.

2) enable 2step authentication wherever possible (at least on tumblr, discord, and your email. it’s easy, takes like 5min)

Stay safe ladderstonies and be kind to each other! And remember, the server is just as open as before, only with some additional security measures now. We don’t need actual 12-year olds raining on our parade ;)

As a sidenote, there will be a stream tomorrow at 8PM GMT+2, so join us there! not you, kid. you’re out. sorry.

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imnotcameraready · 5 years

Text

If Villains Baked Cookies — Chapter 3

A/N: it’s been a Fuckin While, welcome back to this!!!

Word Count: 3295

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit y’all, curses, cursing, minor character death (not anyone significant to the storyline), suggested abuse, suggested trauma, swords, knives, panic and panic attack — if i forgot any pls let me know!!!

Pairings: im realizing that this is platonic Moceit and then platonic Analogince, with like. light versions of platonic DLAMP given that they’re a famILY

Characters: Deceit, Patton, Virgil, Logan, Roman, Thomas, AND EMILE PICANI :^) and Percy the Printer™

read on AO3!

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

@rebelrewriter

enjoy!

Sir Virgil Malory wasn’t exactly a knight, per se. He never liked the shining armor and giant swords, both of which would clang together in an incredibly distracting way. No, Virgil prefered the shadows, the quiet, soft leather shoes and a few small daggers hidden in his coat.

He was forced to undergo the knight training, though, as the youngest of four brothers who had all grown to be high ranking knights. His father, before he died, expected all of them to carry on his own legacy of being one of the King’s war advisors.

When he was sixteen, just before the last year of his knightly training, he was pulled aside by one of the King’s aides. Of course, his heart was beating in his neck, he was sweating buckets, what had he done to make the King mad? Why did he need an audience with the King? And the aide didn’t tell him anything until they got to the small war-planning room.

With JUST the King in it.

“Sounds terrible, being locked in a room with a royal,” Roman interrupted, feet kicked up onto the table.

Virgil shot him a glare. “It is pretty terrible when I’m locked in a room with you,” he stuck his tongue out at Roman, who made a sound crossed between a squeak and a gasp in indignation.

“Virgil? Keep going?” Thomas asked, wrapping his own cape around himself as well.

“Fuck, uh, yeah.”

“No more interruptions, Roman,” Logan raised an eyebrow and cast a side glance at him, “And get your feet off of the table. Patton would be furious.”

Deceit rolled his eyes while Roman grumbled quietly, sitting up proper. “Like Patton’s capable of being furious,” he joked, voice soft.

Thomas still didn’t like how his tongue flicked when he spoke.

Virgil cleared his throat, and Roman’s grumbling quieted.

The King had called Virgil into the room not to reprimand him, but to extend an offer. His army had enough knights who fought with swords. He needed more who could fight in the shadows. Who could sneak into an enemy’s tent and slit their throats quietly.

Yeah, it was a weird gig. Seemed to go against all of the knights’ mantra of honor and dealing with things in battle, but the King was serious. He talked a lot about how not everything could be settled out in the open and how not everything could be known to the public. I didn’t like it at all but….I wasn’t really cut out to be a knight, anyway. I said yes.

Training was, well….similar? I don’t know how much y’all wanna hear.

“Just, like….I dunno. Whatever you see fit?” Thomas asked.

He had started slowly slipping off his armor, but kept his dagger and sword strapped to his person. His choice to keep his weapons didn’t escape Deceit’s gaze, he kept noticing the god’s eyes following him. Thomas really, really didn’t like him.

Virgil just watched Thomas a little harder. He seemed to want to retaliate, but a nudge from Roman distracted him. “No more third person?” he cocked an eyebrow, leaning across both of his arms and the table, grinning cheekily up at him.

“Eh, that wasn’t gonna last anyway,” Virgil rolled his eyes with a huff, “I’m not a storyteller.”

I’m gonna skip training. But basically, uh, I learned how to throw knives, make poisons, climb walls, you name it.

My brothers knew I had a special job, but they didn’t know what it was. We lived in the same house, nearby the castle, which was technically my eldest brother’s house since his family lived there. They always asked what I was doing and what the King wanted from me but I never told. The King’d said that….anyone I told would be killed.

My brothers sucked, but I didn’t want them dead.

I was knighted when I was seventeen, and then I started getting sent out on jobs. Never with anyone, never during the day. The royal family always claimed I was a war messenger. That appeased my brothers for the most part, but the oldest one….Percival. Percy. Percy never really trusted that description. He never went after me, though, but I could always see that he just didn’t accept that.

When Patton was first being challenged by the King, I was almost sent, actually. There were only a few of us war messengers, all assassins, and I’d just returned from another job. Because I was fresh home, the King sent someone else. I didn’t know his name or anything but I remember how scared we all were when he didn’t come back.

The King sent someone else to poison Patton’s crops, and they came back. Succeeded.

News traveled fast, though, that the. Well. He was called a murderer then, and everyone was saying that the murderer’d run. Fled into the hills. And everyone was calling for the King to send a party against him.

The pressure went on for only about a year before the King caved. He said he sent a single knight against the murderer to best him in combat. The King sent me. He told me it didn’t matter how I did it, but that I just needed….he wanted me to bring Patton’s dead body back.

Virgil now looked down at the table, brow furrowed, angry at the memory. Thomas glanced up at Logan and Roman, noticing that they seemed surprised. Thomas hadn’t been asked to bring the body back, either. It might have been a custom that died with time.

Even Deceit was looking at his own lap, humming quietly along with the wind chime.

It was a tense, uncomfortable silence.

“Whew!” Thomas’ head snapped up at the sound of the side door opening. Patton walked in, wiping his hands on a towel. “Left was really milkin’ it today!”

Only Deceit chuckled. Virgil lowered his head onto the table, the hood of his cloak falling over his head. Logan groaned.

Patton seemed confused at what he’d walked into. He looked around at them all and opened his arms. “What’s wrong, kiddos? I hope that pun didn’t moove you!”

“We’re just, um….” Thomas looked up at Logan — he seemed to be the task manager.

Logan met his eyes and sighed. Despite only being here for a few hours, Thomas was already getting the hang of being here. Truth be told, he’d already made up his mind. Of course he was staying. But he didn’t want to be just stagnant. Not after all that he’d heard about the king.

“We are listening to Virgil explain how he arrived here. Are you….aware, of why he came?”

Patton grimaced as soon as Logan said “explain.” He stepped to Virgil’s side and gently rubbed his back. “Yeah, I remember when Virge arrived! He, uh….well, he was real determined!” he smiled, a little too cheerily for the topic, “But Deceit wasn’t havin’ any of that.”

“Sorry,” Deceit grumbled, “It was fun.”

Virgil sat up. “Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping his face, “I’ll keep going.”

“Don’t wipe too hard, you’ll smudge your angsty make up,” Roman retorted, voice lacking the bite it’d had earlier, “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

Virgil looked up at him and they seemed to share a moment. Patton kept rubbing Virgil’s back, also watching Roman, then Logan. Scanning around, making sure his children were okay, Thomas reckoned. He was a little surprised when Patton’s eyes landed on him, too. He gave Patton a tiny smile, which Patton returned thrice as large.

“Well, this is a good time to, uh, air out the dirty laundry. I’m gonna cut up the brownies while you kiddos talk?” Patton patted Virgil’s shoulder one last time before walking around the table, towards the kitchen area.

Thomas watched him and Deceit share a look, too, though it was a little different from the other. He couldn’t tell how. Was it an increase in tension? Determination? Seriousness?

It must have communicated something, because Deceit rolled his eyes away and glared at Virgil’s back. “I cannot pick up the story, Virgil, if you would like,” he offered.

Virgil shook his head and faced Deceit. “No, nah, it’s….it’s okay. It’s way in the past anyway! And, ‘sides, I kicked Roman’s ass harder,” the last part was punctuated with Virgil pointing to Roman with his thumb over his shoulder.

Roman, however, snorted. “The only thing you kicked, Angst-fest, was the dirt after our glorious battle!”

“You started crying over your ripped cape, but go off,” Deceit said, checking his fingernails and digging the dirt out from under them.

“You little—”

“Shut it! Alright, so…..”

The whole chosen one thing wasn’t big back then, but everyone kinda knew about me being sent off. I didn’t say bye to my family or anything, either. Those assholes didn’t care.

“Virgil! No swearing!”

“Jeez, sorry Patt.”

The King set me up with everything, rations and money and weapons and all that jazz. It only took about a week to ride here, too, since it was the first time and none of the opportunists’d settled into where they are now.

Like, you know. Logan talked about having to fight a sphinx, when he first came. I’m sure you had to fight some things like that too. Creatures and peddlers and thieves set themselves up along the path, see if they can kill the Chosen One and loot their body. Or they just wanna swindle you out of money and goods.

None of that was there when I went. It was real easy, until I got to the mountain.

I ran into Patton first, while he was building the barn, actually. With like, his hands. I didn’t think he was the warlock but, well, did any of us? I asked what he was doing all the way out here, he said he lived here. He’d just moved. He was kinda jumpy, but like, that’s valid. He asked why I was here and I told him….I told him I was here to meet a warlock. Lied, and said I was here to discuss a truce with the King.

Patton flipped out. Super excited and all.

Here, Virgil gestured to Patton. “I dunno, do you wanna….pick up the story?”

Patton shot him a small smile and brought a plate of brownies to the table. As soon as he set it down, Roman grabbed one and began nibbling on it. Logan thanked him and took one as well, and then Virgil, who was still staring at Patton.

He leaned on the counter besides Deceit, who wrapped an arm around Patton’s shoulders. He took a deep breath.

“I thought it’d be the end of being chased around. Maybe I’d get to farm and-and go back down to the town. I missed having neighbors. But, like….at that point, it’d been a year. A little over a year of working with Deceit’s magic. And, since it’s tied to preservation and honesty, I could….I could hear you lying. It’s weird, but I could hear it, but I wanted to believe it so badly,” Patton shrugged.

“That means it wasn’t a dumbass idea,” Deceit grumbled.

Patton laughed behind a hand. It seemed no one was going to mention that Deceit had sworn. Logan raised a hand, but Virgil grabbed it and lowered it slowly, all waiting for Patton to continue. It only took a few moments before his hand dropped, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah, um. That wasn’t my brightest, I’ll admit,” Patton’s voice was airier, “I let Virgil in. We sat in the kitchen. We….I think I was just rambling at you.”

“You were telling me about the chickens you were raising,” Virgil added, eyes flickering towards Deceit.

“And I didn’t interrupt. You had a knife in your sleeve,” Deceit met Virgil’s gaze.

Virgil looked down at the table and nodded. “Deceit, uh….we had a fight.”

All was quiet, Virgil staring at the table and fidgeting with his sleeves, but Deceit leaned off of the counter behind himself. “Do you not want me to show it?” he offered, sincerity clear in his voice.

Virgil stood up, head snapping up to Deceit. “Don’t,” he leaned forward on the table, nostrils flaring, knuckles tight on the table’s edge.

Roman stood up, too, and — where the fuck did he get that sword? He stuck a sword between the two of them, holding up his off hand towards Virgil’s chest.

On instinct, Thomas stood as well, drawing his own sword and holding it out to mimic Roman. “Woah, woah, calm down, everyone. If that’s—if that’s where the story ends, then that’s fine, right?” Thomas glanced up at Roman for support, who nodded, then at Logan.

Logan….didn’t move. He was just watching Patton, who was standing behind Deceit, seemingly stricken. Thomas watched, too, as Patton blinked a little. He moved slow, like how one would when approaching a scared animal.

“....Dee. Don’t do it,” Patton grabbed Deceit’s arm, tugging him back a little.

Deceit didn’t break eye contact with Virgil. Just watched him quietly, the second eyelid over his snake eye blinking slowly. Virgil was matching his glare and seemed only a few seconds away from ripping Roman’s arm away from himself.

Yet he broke first, looking down and away. The room’s tension dropped, Roman spinning around and sheathing his sword. He held Virgil’s shoulders carefully and asked if he was okay. Patton pulled Deceit backwards into his arms, holding him tight and asking the same. Thomas himself just….watched. Slowly sank back into his seat, leaned backwards. Logan patted his arm and Thomas turned up towards him.

“I hope you can excuse the tension,” Logan’s voice was quiet, probably hoping to not be heard by the others, “They have a lot of history.”

“They. Deceit and Virgil, I’m guessing?” Thomas whispered back.

Logan nodded, fixing his glasses as he glanced back up at Deceit. “Deceit is fairly tame, for a forgotten deity, but he is incredibly protective of Patton. Given that Virgil was assigned to kill him, Deceit….well. I don’t know much of the story myself, but I do know that Virgil was defeated in hand to hand combat. Multiple times. They get along fair enough now but I assume those memories are still difficult to sit with.”

They both looked up at the sound of Roman tugging Virgil toward the door. Thomas couldn’t see much of Virgil, wrapped beneath his thick patchwork cloak, but the one hand he could see was gripping Roman’s white tunic tight enough to turn his hand just as white. A murderer. It was still a little hard to process, this teenager was supposed to be a hardened murderer. Roman held the door open with his foot and carefully ushered Virgil out. He caught Logan and Thomas’ eye as he hurried out and mouthed “We’ll be back,” before letting the door close behind himself.

Now, Logan and Thomas directed their attention to Deceit and Patton. They’d shifted, Deceit sitting on the counter, Patton holding his hands tight.

“He’s very human, all things considered,” Logan murmured just loud enough for Thomas to hear, “If you’d like….I can show you to your room for the night.”

Thomas looked at him. Logan was watching him as well, blue eyes piercing behind those glasses.

He reminded Thomas so much of the librarian, Emile, but with a different level of power. When Thomas had been chosen he went to Emile, only to be held in the tightest hug he’d ever felt. There were rumors in their village, there are always rumors, that Emile had the Gift of Sight and that he’d been able to see what happened to his brother. The same piercing eyes, the same knowing gaze. They held Thomas in his spot so well that he almost forgot he wasn’t standing in the library’s foyer, about to ask Mr. Picani if he’d ever climbed a mountain.

“....I….”

“I know you’ve made your decision, Thomas. Regardless of your desire to announce it or not, there are still a few hours until dinner and you may find it best to rest,” Logan’s face folded into a small fond smile, “Besides, Patton has been arranging your room for the past decade.”

They’d been expecting him. Of course they had, if the Chosen One was a generational tradition lasting over the past hundreds of years.

The thought made Thomas’ blood boil. He’d trained for years to protect Tomasphere but the more he learned about the royal family….

He hoped Logan couldn’t see his anger. Thomas smiled back, more unsure. “Um. Yeah, sure,” he followed Logan as he rose and tucked in his chair.

“Patton,” Patton turned to look over his shoulder at Logan and Thomas, “I’m going to take Thomas to his room. Roman and Virgil are outside.”

“Wait,” Deceit’s hand — Thomas’ fists balled tightly as he saw that there were claws, claws on his scaled left arm, just like the claws that gripped his throat only a few days ago — pulled Patton’s shoulder to the side, “I can tell Virgil totally wants to finish the story, so I shouldn’t step in. Thomas’ isn’t staying, ergo the story shouldn’t be finished.”

Logan frowned at him, opening his mouth to interrupt, then closing his mouth as he tried to decipher the circle speak. Thomas watched him, deferring in a moment of fear, but Logan only shook his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary—”

“Virgil didn’t get his ass handed to him so bad, and it definitely took less than a week for him to fully recover,” Deceit rubbed the back of his neck, “It….I’m completely proud.”

“Dee, it’s okay.”

“I didn’t break his spine. He—Patton, sunlight, he—Patton.”

Deceit’s eyes flicked toward Thomas, whose fists clenched even firmer, and then down to the table. His shaking shoulders were hunched just enough for Patton to pull him back to his chest and for him to rest his head in the crook of Patton’s neck. “Now, Dee, you were different. That was a few centuries ago, and you were different. Things’re better now,” he rubbed the deity’s back, running a hand through his dark brown hair, “Things’re better.”

“I don’t know, Patt,” Deceit’s voice was muffled but held a distinct change in tone.

Thomas wanted to watch, something in him wanted to bear witness to this honest side of Deceit. He hadn’t been sure about Deceit’s sincerity since he’d met him, certain that there were backward statement and some very obvious lies, but, well, Thomas couldn’t exactly tell. The sentiment of his sorrow, though, and the tone. The tone of his voice. Was he being honest?

But Logan’s hand gripped his arm and tugged.

“Thomas. Let’s go,” his voice was firm, and Thomas couldn’t help but obey.

He followed Logan out of the kitchen and left Patton to calm the upset god. He followed Logan into a smaller room, furnished with a fully-made bed, a small desk, a wardrobe, and a candlestick in a lantern already glowing. It seemed quaint, like moving into a new room, but Thomas could already tell that it was meant to be “home.” He dropped his satchel onto the desk and looked up. There were stars drawn onto the ceiling in golden ink, an “R+L” in the corner paying homage to the artists.

If Logan expected some sort of reaction, he was sorely disappointed. Once he saw the bed, Thomas knew he was done for, as the weight of how much he’d gone through during the day finally crashed onto his shoulders. He took a few steps toward the bed, collapsed onto it and, within mere seconds, was asleep.

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