#2020 quarantine mood

[high-quality-tiktoks]

that season 1 covid nostalgia will getcha

#video #tiktok #tiktoks #funny #lmao #relatable #mood #2020 #covid #covid 19 #coronavirus #quarantine #abigailrosebrock

[sunsetloverrsss]

Let it snow

December 2020

Evie woke up that Tuesday morning earlier than daniel as per usual those last couple months during quarantine since she had to teach her class. Glancing out the window of their apartment they shared together she saw it was snowing. Usually when Evie saw snow she'd be over the moon happy it was her favourite but not this time she wasn't in the mood.

Pushing it aside even continued about her morning which consisted of feeding oreo and taking her medication in the hopes of preventing the flare up happening that she knew was coming and no amount pain meds would stop it. Though her only hope was to prolong it. She chose a simple breakfast that morning of just some yoghurt and fruit before she settled down infant of her computer for the day.

As daniel awoke and got up he to also noticed the weather he knew it should bring a smile to Evie's face. He walked into the kitchen with a pep in his step looking forward to seeing Evie. "Hey good sweetie how are you feeling" he asked her giving her a pack on the forhead. " yeh I'm okay just a little crampy. I'm done work for the day it was just a quick check with the kids" she smiled at him. In the 3 years Daniel has known Evie he was surprised she wasn't more happy over the idea of it snowing outside. Though then he also knew she had alot going on at the moment.

He walked over to the counter hopped onto it and he started to eat an apple. He figured he'd bring it into the conversation. "Sooo I see it's snowing outside you must be happy" he said to her in-between bites. She glanced at him and give him a small smile before mumbling "yeh I guess it's nice". That was it daniel knew the last few couple months had been hard on her not being able to see her family bit also she had been in alot of pain and suffering alot of flare ups since her endometriosis surgery's kept getting canceled due to covid. Daniel knew she wasn't doing good and I pained him to see her in pain. He knew he had to try and do something to atleast get her smiling for awhile.

That's when he jumped of the counter and grabbed Evie by the arm and dragged her over to their door. He didn't say anything and she was very confused. "Daniel what are you doing" she asked questionably as Daniel picked her hat gloves and scarf up and put them on her. Next was her jacket he zipped it up the whole way before taking a step back and looking at her. "You look beautiful my little squishy marshmallow" he said to her jokingly. Evie laughed back as daniel put on his winter gear too. "Come on" he said to her dragging her outside.

Daniel and Evie stood outside when he turned to her. "Look at this isn't it amazing its your favourite time of the year Evie. I want you to forget about everything for awhile and just enjoy this" he said to her seriously. "Okay I will" she replied as she bent down and formed a snowball in her hand. "Don't you dare THROW THAT AT ME EVIE" he shouted at her happily. She didn't listen and threw it at his arm. "Oh that's it your on" he replied also throwing one at her. "DANNY" she shouted. Next minute she just burst into a fit of laughter.

Daniel walked over to her smothering her in a hug. Evie continued to laugh along with Daniel. He gave her the best hugs it was one of her favourite this about him. Daniel was so happy the hear Evie laughing even if it was only for a short while he knew she needed this. She needed to be able to forget about her endometriosis and everything relating to covid at the moment. "So how about we go build a snowball danny" she said looking up to him. " I think that would be a very good idea." He replied before he got to pull away fully Evie pulled him back. "Thanks for this Dan I really needed it and thanks for always knowing what I need I know sometimes I can be a handful." She said to him "Hey your welcome and you know your never a handful to me all I care about is hearing you laugh. I love you" he replied. "I love you too. Now let's go make that snow man" Evie said enthusiasticly

Enjoy this short little blurb. As always send in and questions you have I'll be happy to answer. Anything at all. 🥰

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x ofc #sunsetloverss🌸 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1blr #f1 #f1 x oc #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x oc

[mosscoveredcowboy]

What Each of the Disruptors masking behavior in the Arrival Scene tells us about their Character

Major Glass Onion Spoilers Ahead

Miles:

Miles is the most important, even if he's not pictured, he and how he treats the idea of masking to prevent the spread of covid is represented by the Efficient Man™

Miles Invites all his privileged friends out to his private island mid-pandemic for an unnecessary party, and he has a vaccine/"cure"/SOMETHING that makes covid not a concern and either:

doesn't share it with the world

on some level knows that it's bullshit and just wants to make his friends not mask over their Fun Weekend! and bum out the mood

tbh i don't think the second bullet is likely bc like, miles buys into his own hype that's his whole Thing but also lying to his friends to manipulate them is also very much his Thing

either way, he doesn't give them much choice about receiving this experimental "cure" nor inform them of what is in it

Miles is an egotistical self-absorbed dumbass, and harming people for his own personal gain, hell, just for his own personal entertainment, is entirely ok in his mind. I've seen people suggesting that the movie should have ended with Blanc testing positive for Covid after the trip and I think that would have been perfect. Miles's "cure" did nothing and everyone put their lives at risk during a pandemic just so Miles could have some fun and remind them all why they are under his thumb.

Birdy:

Birdy shows up wearing a flashy mesh diamond mask a la Lana del Ray (note the rest of her staff with her properly masking). She still removes this useless mask to talk to people around her and exclaims about being able to "breath again" after taking Mile's "cure".

She's clearly doing the bare BARE minimum to look like she cares about quarantining and protecting others (see earlier in the movie when asked if she should be having a party she states "they are all in my pod" about hundreds of people in her home).

This aligns with how she approaches doing the right thing in general. Kind of trying to look like she's doing the right thing, but just barely, and you can see right through (ha) her actions and tell she's really doing whatever she wants for her own personal gain. She's not informed, doesn't want to do better, and doesn't listen to those around her who try to help.

Birdy doesn't have empathy for others, and this is later shown when we learn about her sweatpants scandal, how she was unaware that the clothing she made bank off of in the pandemic was produced in a sweatshop. Birdy is more concerned with how this news will make people on twitter mad at her than the actual inhumane working conditions themselves.

Lionel Toussaint:

In the Arrival scene Claire snips to Birdy when she asks if she and Lionel stayed in the hotel that clearly she and Lionel had just arrived. However, unlike Claire, Lionel arrives alone, no one in a car driving him or staff around him. He's wearing a K95 mask, and for this point of the pandemic (it's assumed late 2020) that is still fairly new and most people were not masking this well (to my memory).

Lionel is a scientist, and clearly has a level of knowledge about the transmission of infectious diseases and general contamination protocols to make safe decisions during a pandemic.

Still, he shows up to Miles weekend party and presumably takes the experimental "cure" (though it's not shown on screen). This tells us that Lionel is smart, smart enough to know that Miles is dumb as shit, but he buys into Miles's hype, convinces himself that Miles is a genius and backs him up even when Lionel knows he's wrong or being outright dangerous (see later with his reaction to the hydrogen energy running Miles mansion).

Lionel trusts Miles even when he should be smart enough to know better. He trusts Miles because if he actually questioned Miles's motivations and morals he would have to question his own, and Lionel doesn't want to do that.

Claire:

Claire arrives wearing a cloth mask but not correctly. She gets out of the taxi she arrives in with something sticking out of her mouth and her nose completely uncovered. She constantly adjusts her mask in the scene, and gets too close to others while talking to them. She also takes Miles's cure without question.

Like Birdy, Claire is doing the right thing more because she has to, not from motivation to protect herself and others. Unlike Birdy, she seems to understand how to do this more successfully, a clear difference between the performance of a celebrity and a politician.

I think this is shown later in Claire and Lionel's discussion in the pool as she talks about losing her political base because of the actions Miles wants her to take. On some level, she must align with the environmentalist that makes up her political base, but her loyalty lies more with Miles and the power saying yes to him means for her campaign.

Claire, despite her clear disapproval of Birdy, is very similar to her in that they are both performing to an audience to not be in trouble politically.

This is also shown by her freak out about how Duke's murderer would report her being there, and how it would look if she was hanging out on a Greek island with a manosphere influencer. She seems to have more of a reaction to what people would think of her than to Duke actually being dead.

Duke:

Duke and Whisky's arrival is announced with gunshots. They arrive on Duke's motorcycle, completely unmasked from the beginning (also, like, I assume they don't live in Greece, did they ship the bike there???). He's confirmed is shown to be a right-wing manosphere influencer, along the lines of Alex Jones or Jordan Peterson, those assholes who tell boys how to harass women and then grift them into buying supplements. Duke also takes the "cure" Miles provides without question, but if he lived long enough to see it, he'd likely be one of the people who wouldn't have gotten vaccinated because he doesn't trust what's in it.

Duke has probably been acting like the pandemic hasn't been happening at all, while capitalizing on the topic in his live streams to talk about how "masking is for beta cucks" and how the government is trying to control you.

He is the character that is the most honest to himself in why he is still friends with Miles. It is all about the power and influence Miles can give him, and Duke will cross any line (including making Whiskey seduce Miles) to get it. This forwardness in playing the group's little manipulation game is what later gets him killed by Miles in my opinion.

Duke not masking is a great way to show this. He doesn't align politically with the others, yes, but also he canonically does not care what people think of him. He is a self-absorbed egotistical asshole like the rest of them, but he's proud of it, giving him more freedom to be open about that than the others.

"asshole"

anyway I love how the time period of the pandemic was used in this movie and using each character's approach to masking as a way to inform you of their character is so informative and good storytelling

#glass onion #knives out #knives out 2 #knives out glass onion #the disruptors #benoit blanc #original post #again blessings to the gif makers #i love you #please ignore my repost of this #this is me trying to make tumblr tags care about this post bc this one isn't a rb #long post #sorry but like #i do care about notes on this one #i want ppl to see it i worked hard on it #lol

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC's Writer of the Month:

Lucy-268

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is CFWC's very own, @lucy-268! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: lucy-268 Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

During the COVID quarantine in 2020. I played Bloodbound and Bloodbound 2. Then High School Story. I finally got tired of PB/Choices asking me if I wanted to try Open Heart.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

Because Facebook keeps track of things you search for, it asked me if I wanted to join a Choices group. There was a post about Open Heart fanfics on Tumblr. So I dusted off my old Tumblr account.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

I am a cat person, but Lucy was the best dog ever. She was my Mom’s dog that mom brought with her when I moved here from PA to VA to save me from having to drive back home every other weekend. 

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

I am an introvert. A lot of people around me overwhelm me and I had an aunt who always made comments like, glad you decided to join us. Similar to this post.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

For choices, since 2020. In a previous life, I wrote Harry Potter fics. I wrote Hinny stories that are still available on fanfiction.net and Livejournal. But with few exceptions I won’t tell anyone the username I used then. 

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

Open Heart.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

This is the first fic I posted. I had an HC for Charley’s backstory and the brother she was close to, along with some of the brother’s friends. I think I brought the friend back in one other fic. At one point, I thought about bringing him in as an LI for Sienna. I would probably change it.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I Would Not Change a Thing. It’s personal to me because I know a couple of people who have semi colon tattoos. After I posted the fic, someone who has since left the fandom shared with me that she got the same tattoo that I gave Charley.

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

My first one was well received. The fandom was more robust then, and I felt welcomed into the community.

I think some of my Tobias/Samantha fics are better than others I’ve written, but because of the size of the fandom and the pairing (not Ethan), they aren’t well-read.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

I don’t often write smut, so we can eliminate that. I generally get more ideas for fluff, but I'd hate to not be able to write angst when the mood strikes.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yes, There are a few pieces of Charley, Samantha, and especially Maggie (I even used my grandmother’s name there). Even a little bit of Emma from TNA.

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

The ideas for fics. And dialogue. And time.

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Did you look in my google docs folder? I have about 100 docs in there. Some are saved in files labeled Sunday Six that I need to go through and pull ideas from save fics together. I have three artworks I either commissioned or won that I need to write fics for, including a cat T/S adopted, a winter fic for T/S, and E/C’s wedding.

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

Nope.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? 

They aren’t active in the Choices fandom much, but two who were very welcoming to me when I started writing were @openheart12 (who asked to be tagged even though she had never read anything I wrote!) and @anothermansjeans (formerly oofchoices), who did some of my first moodboards. Thank you both for the kindness you showed me.

@jamespotterthefirst - Your fics were some of the first I read, and I was so happy when you started to read my works. You are a true friend, and I feel blessed to have you in my my life.

@jerzwriter -  You are my go-to person when I need someone to talk to. I love your ideas, and I wouldn’t want to run CFWC with anyone else.

@genevievemd - You always find the best David Gandy photos. I admire your dedication to completing two series of Smiles. And did it daily.

@liaromancewriter - You are always willing to help with everything. Your Ethan x Cassie is great, but I love Maxenna. (And I still need to finish your original!)

@potionsprefect - I love Victoria as an MC. I admire how you have developed the personalities of your twins (and I’m jealous that I don’t think I have accomplished that yet.

@bex-la-get - It took me a while to find you, and I miss you now that you are on a hiatus. But I love your bookstagram accounts. I can’t forget to mention your cat videos of Percy and Odin.

@danijimenezv - Thank you for giving me the story idea for I Scream, You Scream. Thank you for sharing your stories of your vet internship.

@writer-ish - You always pop up with just the perfect comment or gif. I just wish you’d do it more often.

@a-crepusculo - Another fellow cat person. One of my favorite fics is your When It Rains. I love the idea of Ethan being free enough to stop and dance in the rain.

@storyofmychoices - Thank you for all you do for the fandom in general. Your writing inspired me to read both Mother of the Year and Save the Date.

@burnsoslow - See the above comment. Your Drake and Alyssa inspired me to read The Royal Romance, at least the first one. I was avoiding it because Choices kept trying to make me read it. I miss wackydrabbles, even though there are plenty of fic prompts around.

I am sure there are so many others I should mention, and I’m sorry for anyone I forgot.

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

I would not change a thing; see question 8 above.

17- Do you write original fiction? 

I have some stories started.

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, cooking, baking, and playing with my cats.

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

💚😻🤦🏼‍♀️

#cfwc writer of the month #lucy-268 #open heart #the nanny affair #choices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #playchoices

[asherlockstudy]

sorry for the long ask coming up!

disclaimer i'm fairly new to rhett & link/GMM + adjacent and i definitely haven't caught up on all the past GMMs or everything else they've done, but i've noticed a lot of things about randl so...

i wanted to bring up link's weird contradictory mentions of his sexuality, honestly. i remember seeing the video where they talk about gay dating apps and link refuses to call himself a straight man ("as a... as me in this world") + the ear biscuits where they talk about how they've gotten more comfortable acting gay "for comedy" + link talking about not caring about labels BUT then i feel like link puts a weird emphasis on being straight and monogamous in some videos too. what i wanna know is if there is at least a vague timeline here you can put these attitudes on because i get the impression he goes back and forth but idk if he's holding these attitudes concurrently or if there's a pattern, maybe? again, i'm a relatively new fan so i feel like it's because i haven't really experienced the timeline of all this myself.

Hello, welcome to the fandom! Sorry for the late reply, I am sort of having very low energy these days.

What I have concluded is that they do back and forths all the time. Sometimes I get the impression they give out mixed signals on purpose but I cannot fully rationalise it.

I have a timeline but it is about my general observation of their interactions and behaviours, through which conclusions about Link’s exploration of sexuality topics could be drawn.

When they started back in 2012, Link was way more reserved. True, he has always been silly and doing impulsive things, but he made sure to not say inappropriate stuff. At the time, GMM was also resolutely a family friendly show. Things such as mentioning sexuality and labels were entirely out of the question. Link had impulsive moments of getting touchy, sensitive or saying something compromising about how intimate (not sexually but more than your guy friend typical) they get in private but those were quickly blocked by a very uptight Rhett.

Around 2014-15, there is a shift in the way they interact with each other. They are more cutesy, more flustered, make more heart eyes. Rhett has loosened up compared to the previous years, enough that he sometimes makes inappropriate jokes, such that Link often has to cut him off or control him.

2016, Link changes haircut. Rhett loosens up even more. 2016-2017, Rhett at times seems uncontainable. Link is more assured in himself, his silliness and his openness but nothing extremely different.

2018-2019, ups and downs in their dynamics but Link goes ballistic. He starts being way more daring in the way he talks and acts, at times bewildering even us. Rhett fluctuates between being flustered all the time or shutting down. At times Link becomes too obvious in his actions. He starts dressing differently, his posture changes a little, he starts provoking Rhett consciously. Other times he seems to be in a low, pensive mood. There are still no talks on sexuality except in a humorous context in LTAT.

2020, spiritual deconstruction (Link’s is brave and heavily insinuating stuff) + creative house. Then COVID quarantine stops them in their tracks. According to what they said, they both were genuinely very cautious during the peak of the pandemic and stayed at home without meeting for quite some time. Link seemed to become more reserved at the time, somewhat going back to his previous self, he is pensive, melancholic and too concerned with Christy’s health problems to bother much with not seeing Rhett enough. On the contrary, Rhett climbs the walls in his house. He becomes uncharacteristically needy and open.

2021-2022, Mythical becomes more verbal and open about its support to LGBT people and Rhett and Link follow along. However, after the pandemic Link has not reached his 2018-2019 levels of boldness. Rhett is a hard mix to define, he is mostly contained and more reserved than the previous years but he has his outbursts too. GME helps Link let loose whereas it takes years off from Rhett’s life. In every Sextember that follows they describe their very straight sexual lives. From the second half of 2022, Link starts to make vague implications.

2023, Link starts the year with big statements such as that he is now living his best life. He starts talking a lot about the exploration of oneself and identity and is more clear in his conversations regarding labels and sexuality. Rhett is not having a good time, he becomes more closed off and appears frequently to be anxious or irritated, which he also addresses in some podcasts. Link’s outbursts sometimes involve provoking Rhett, but unlike in 2018-2019, they now mostly involve speaking more openly about himself. While this is an ongoing situation there are frequent breaks of stated straightness in between. Especially after the summer Link’s intentions have become a rollercoaster, with constant risks and immediate overcorrection. Their scripted videos are steadily bolder than they are.

That’s my recollection, there may be some inaccuracies regarding the precise years mentioned but I think it is mostly correct. Link’s attempts to open up about himself and his journey of exploration is a fairly new situation. The official start is his spiritual deconstruction but it did not become a regular effort on his part before 2022.

#rhink #link Neal #Rhett and link #anon #ask #mythical

[twinkodium]

i started writing on this ask today before work but didn’t have time to send it off before i started….. so it’s a bit messy and it’s about a couple random posts you’ve reblogged today, good luck figuring out what posts im referring to shdjdhdjdj

the lil arthur tags on the gifs of charles 🥺 you didn’t ask but i’ve been in *such* an arthur mood recently… esp have been thinking a lot about his voice 🫶 and how him and charles sound pretty much identical at times 🫶 extra in love with arthur speaking french waaaaaa that video of him being angry at charles in french while streaming…….. lives in my head rent free

the hands on the waist is insane. just like the hand on the bicep. w o w. it’s not like it’s the first time but ?? 😵 also the way i didn’t say anything about his ass but… 👀 (love it so so so much)

pleaseeee podium in special suit and helmet and sweaty oscar and- the only thing that could’ve made it even better is if he hadn’t cut his hair 🫣

i’m sorry but im going crazy… yoUR TAGS ON THE POOL POST?? HELLO??? DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOUVE DONE TO ME??????? INSANEEEE it should be illegal to put those thoughts in my head! esp when they’re so good i might cry!! i’m gonna try to not get too worked up about it but….

(^ me rn)

yet again, this has turned into a novel 😶 i apologize, sweet dreams tonight love <3

Jackie, honey hellooo 🥹🥹

Ugh work is ruining our lives big time… I couldn’t enjoy the content today fully because I was at work when all them were dropped 😭

I figured out in 2020 during quarantine that they sound exactly the same if they both use their thick accents 😩 I remember Lando being confused of which one of them were talking all the time 😭 Arthur is just a clone of Charles. Same voice, same chaotic energy, no braincells, competitive in challenge videos yet always end up losing 🫣🫣 no I love Arthur but my bestie tagged me on a video I wished I’ve never seen because now if I think about Arthur that video just appears in my mind and NOPE!! Which video?? I can’t recall seeing that one 😭 send it over pls 🥺

HANDS ON EVERYTHING preferably on my neck but only happens in my imagination… sad times 🥴 PLS YOU CANT BE SILENT ABOUT THAT JUICY FINE ASS 😩😩 and the way he tilts his hip like that to have it in our faces is a war crime 😩😩 cuz we can only look and not touch 😠

Special livery, special helmet, black suits, will be a mental and physical race so they’ll be sweating like crazy 😮‍💨😮‍💨and if he ends up on the podium looking like that I’ll never shut up about it 🫠🫠 hair is okay tho and with him being sweaty it won’t make any difference 🤭🤭

OMG, I love how everyone is losing their minds reading my tags 🤭🤭🤭 sorry not sorry, woke up after a nice nap and ideas hit me hard after coming across the pic 😩😩 SUCH A BIG COMPLEMENT FROM YOU OMG I MIGHT CRY NOW 😭😭😭 all of your reactions make me think that I might should write it but like brainstorming and plotting is easy but actually writing the whole piece gives me a hard time always when I’m about to write something 😭 especially knowing myself and love for details it’d be longer than 10K+ words 🫣🫣🫣 I DUNNO I MIGHT GIVE IT A TRY 😏😏

Love you reaction🥹🥹 you’re so sweet 🥺🥺 ily

no worries baby, you can rant as long as you want 🥰 I’m here for all the chaotic asks you’re sending to me 🫶🏼 sweet dreams love 🥰🥰

#asks #jackie 🧡 #buttercup 🥰 #Oscar #Arthur #Charles #daily discussion with Jackie about Oscar 🥰 #about the tags I really appreciate how many people liked it and actually reached out to say it 🥹🥹 #I felt loved and appreciated I rare feel nowadays so 🥺 thank you #I might give it a go and try to write it for you guys 🫣

[hauntingcryptids]

Quarantine Breakdown

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary - The reader is stuck on Earth because of the covid-19 pandemic when The Master drops by.

Based On This Request -

Warnings - mentions of anxiety, depression, and a breakdown, references to The Master’s trauma from being stuck on Earth for 77 years

Word Count - 2348

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Requested on my old Tumblr account. I wrote and posted it in 2020. I just wanted to repost it on my new account. I hope you enjoy this!

------------------------------------------------------------

There was a random knock on your door, jarring you away from your reading. You were too confused to act at first, you hadn’t ordered anything online, and you hadn’t even ordered takeout. There was no reason for there to be a knock at your door today. You found your bookmark, but not as fast as you would have hoped. The bookmark, having fallen and cocooned itself within the blanket strewn across your lap, made itself very hard to find. The knocking increased rapidly as you finally escaped your soft prison. You haphazardly placed the book on the nearby coffee table, which was riddled with random objects and dishware because of your lack of cleaning your apartment recently. 

You stumbled to the door; legs sore from sitting for so long. You rifled a hand through your still slightly damp hair as you opened the door quickly, having grown annoyed by the knocking that seemed to grow in volume and in pace. Whoever was on the other side of your front door seemed to be in an impatient mood. Your eyes went wide with shock when the identity of the annoying knocking person was revealed. 

“What are you doing here, Master?” Your tone was confused, and a bit angry, he had been unusually quiet for months, ceasing all calls and texts and especially visits. You assumed that he got into trouble with some alien government he tried to scam once in the past or he was aware of the current pandemic and just wanted to avoid the whole debacle, or, even more likely, both options simultaneously. No matter what his reasoning for not communicating for so long, it still stung for him to abandon you so abruptly and coldly.

“What?! Y/n, I thought that you would be happy to see me! I’m sorry for not talking to you for a week,” your mouth fell open in shock, which he didn’t notice due to his rambling and his dramatic hand movements, “but I’ve been busy, scheming, planning, overthrowing planets … did you change your hair …” He finally noticed something, at least. He seemed unaware of the fact that his week of adventures had been four months of quarantine for you, but at least he noticed was something. You allowed him into your living room, hoping that he would close the door behind him as you picked up and organised some stacks of books, random discarded hoodies and old takeout menus that might become useful if The Master were to spend the night.

“Oh, yeah, I might have had a breakdown a couple of weeks ago and just made an impulsive decision. Said decision being based on a couple of months of questioning if I would look good with a different hairstyle…,” you looked at him in the middle of tidying up to see The Master now shocked. You imagined that your face and demeanour mirrored his current appearance when you opened the door, which might have explained his smirk then. The look of being verbally or situationally lost and left to pick up the pieces was funny to witness, and confusion and shock looked very cute on his face, making this situation bearable.

“Do you like it?!” You questioned to draw him out of his running mind.

The Master stuttered a bit, looking anywhere but your face, “Y-yes, I like it. You look … nice.” He stroked his eyebrow with his finger before helping you move some books from the coffee table, he still did not understand exactly what situation he left you in. With the general area around the coffee table and couch relatively clear, you offered him a seat while you went to go make some tea for the two of you.

He didn’t take you up on that offer, however. He merely followed you into the kitchen silently, resolving to lean against the counter and stare at you as you worked. He was still confused, but his shock mellowed a bit. You were always a mystery to him. You were a strange little Human that made him feel things. Things that were meant to be an impossibility for him to feel. Now he had to work out the mystery of what had occurred in your life since he dropped you off at your flat. And given the fact that he was already agonising over the mystery of how you had so much power over him, he preferred not to overwork himself.

“How long have I been gone, for you?” You looked at him in the middle of a journey to retrieve a jug of milk. His face was calm, but his eyes were large and sad, searching every part of your body, excruciatingly trying to find any differences in you or your personality other than your new haircut. He feared that you might have done more to yourself during your self-described breakdown.

“Almost five months. You dropped me off right before the quarantine was enacted.” you handed him a purple mug you had bought for him, but he insisted that you keep it at your flat in case he threw it during one of his infamous fits of rage. He thanked you for the tea and acknowledged the time apart but questioned the quarantine. Five months wasn’t awful by his standards, maybe to yours, but you were Human. He knew, however, how much trauma and tragedy can make a short time feel like forever and make a person desperate for the agony to be over.

“You know, the covid-19 crisis. The crisis reaching pandemic levels that certain world leaders are trying to ignore until it goes away. You know ... that quarantine.” You tried to joke, both to cheer yourself up from the past five months of boredom and fear and as an attempt to get The Master to smile. He did not smile, unfortunately, he kept staring at you, eyes searching for any pain in your words and actions.

He placed his mug down on the kitchen counter, then softly removed your mug from your hands and placed it on the counter in order to join his own. He turned back to you, stepping closer, ghosting his fingers over your own. He was secretly asking your permission to hold your hands. Which you accepted, interlocking your fingers together.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke so softly that it alarmed you. He had only spoken with you this softly one moment before, after being trapped on Earth for 77 years. He brought your interlocked fingers up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“I did not mean to be away for so long. I wouldn't have even left you if I knew you would be forced to be on Earth alone. Especially for nearly five months!” You removed his hand from yours, his eyes shone with hurt at the loss of contact until he realised that you were trying to readjust the two of you into a hug. The Master clung to you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He would occasionally kiss and nip at your soft skin, but go back to breathing in your scent, grounding himself in your comforting presence. He hated being alone without you. You hated being alone without him. Neither of you spoke about this, but you both knew of the other's feelings. 

“You would tell me if you were hurting right?” He hugged you slightly tighter, causing the buttons of his waistcoat to dig into your stomach.

“Of course, why?” He could tell that you weren’t lying, and he smiled at your loyalty but brought himself back to what you had mentioned.

“You said that you had a breakdown.”

“Well, I did message you. You didn’t answer, but I guess that has to do with a weird time thing.” He shook his head in disbelief at your Human memory.

“Yes, weird time thing, thank you for using the technical term I taught you. My phone will adjust to the correct time, eventually.” As soon as he said that, almost like magic, his phone went off with a series of dings and vibrations.

“Why isn’t it automatic? Like when you go to a different time zone?” The Master looked you in the eye, and you knew what he was going to say.

“Weird time thing.” The two of you simultaneously spoke. The Master began to scroll through the barrage of old messages that finally appeared, growing more and more disgruntled and worried with each new message. His forehead creased and his brows furrowed, his mouth was set in a permanent frown. Upon reading one message, he drew his lip into his mouth and bit it anxiously, something you had never seen him do. Maybe it was a habit he picked up from watching you do it so many times. But he quickly returned to his seriously stern expression when he realised you were watching him. 

You were tired of this, and you didn’t want to see his reactions to the voicemails you left him, which were even more anxiety-ridden and depressed in nature. You tore the phone from his grip and pocketed it. Before he could complain, you enveloped him in another hug.

“I’m fine now, Master. You’re here. Please stop worrying about me.” He reciprocated the hug, cradling your head in his shaking, worry-caused, hand.

“I will never stop worrying about you -” You cut him off, guessing what he was going to say.

“Yes, because I am a pathetic little Human. I'm from too fragile of a species to actually take care of myself properly. Blah. Blah. Blah. I heard this speech five months ago!” You chuckled into his neck, which he loved the feeling of, but he corrected you.

“Actually, I was going to say that I will never stop worrying about you because I care about you.” You tried to look at his face, but The Master’s tight grip on you kept you pressed against him. 

The two of you never talked about your feelings toward each other, but both of you knew that feelings were present. You would both hold each other for long periods of time, like this one. You would kiss each other on the cheek, forehead, hands, neck, basically anywhere except for each other’s mouths because that might have been too intimate in the past. The two of you would even jokingly call out to each other with the moniker ‘my loving spouse’. The two of you would also occasionally say that you loved each other, but always in tones of jest to try and mask the truth and weight of the words. Maybe the wall you both put up was finally breaking down.

Out of nowhere, The Master shot backwards from the hug, placing his hands on your forearms to keep you in place, as he cracked a cheeky smile.

“Idea! Do you want to get off of this miserable planet and go on an adventure?” You breathed a sigh of relief, desperate to do something off of the planet Earth and to get out of the emotional state that you have been in recently.

“Absolutely! An adventure anywhere sounds fantastic!” His smile grew even wider at your response. He rolled his shoulders back in confidence, grabbing you by the neck and giving you a kiss on the forehead before running to your door and, subsequently, his TARDIS, pulling you in tow. He bounded inside, leaving you to close the door of the TARDIS, as you had left him in a similar state earlier. However, The Master’s excited attitude crumbled as a loud beeping began emitting from the console.

“What is that noise?” You questioned by his side, trying to understand the Gallifreyian writing flashing on the console screen.

“It’s an alarm.” He grumbled, he leaned his hands on the console, his head falling down between his shoulders.

“Yeah, I can see that, but what's alarming you about what? What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing,” he said sarcastically, raising his head and talking with his hands dramatically, “Just an alarm informing us that no individuals can leave the planet Earth or this period in time for the foreseeable future until the virus dies down!” He walked over and slumped down onto a nearby sofa, his head falling in his hands. You walked over to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his back to massage his shoulders and leaning your head against his.

“I know how much you hate Earth, Master, especially being stuck on it, but at least you won’t be alone. You have me this time.” He looked up at you, eyes holding back tears. He really didn’t want to have to do this all over again.

“I love you, Y/N.” This was his way of thanking you for being beside him when no one has ever done that before, and also his promise to not leave you alone like he just accidentally had. It might have been accidental, but he still felt guilty. A tear fell from his beautiful and inviting eyes. You reached up to wipe it away.

“I love you, too, Master.” This was you making the same promise to stay by his side and the same declaration of appreciation for his willingness to stay with you. You took the opportunity of this soft moment to place an impulsive kiss on his lips like you always wanted to. It was just a peck, though, but The Master deepened the kiss in a fervour. He passionately held your face in his hands and caressed your cheekbones with all of the pent of love for you he has trying to suppress since he met you. The two of you broke apart, eventually, both breathless with bruised lips. 

You and The Master ended up holding each other until you both fell asleep, there on the TARDIS console room sofa, blissfully unprepared for what your future would throw at you but determined that the two of you would make it through. As long as you each had each other, you and The Master would make it out together. No matter what.

#ghost's posts #my writing #fanfiction #anon #requested #x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader #the master #the master x reader #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #reuploads from my old tumblr account

[ollyandglitter]

Bubble Bath

Words: 7.5k

Summary: In the Time of Covid-19, Simon and Baz return to Hampshire, reminisce about the past and look to the future. Plus some bubble bath scenes :)

Notes: thanks so much @twinkle-twinkle-up-above for the very profound beta and editing. You have a huge part in it.

Also, thank you so much for this stunning art 😍 go check it out!

The story on AO3

---

March 2020

Baz

Daphne wouldn't let us in. It's a little odd even considering Snow is standing next to me all messy and dirty, and admittedly we also have landed a Canadian mountain dragon right into her lovely rose garden. She wouldn't even open the door, and through the glass I can see her waving her arms frantically and pointing in the opposite direction. I frown, look suspiciously around, and knock again, before my phone buzzes.

"Baz!" Daphne cries out.

"Daphne," I try not to sound irritated, but honestly, my patience is quite short today. Six hours of flight on a dragon over the North Atlantic is cold, shaky and very uncomfortable. For everyone's sake, she better let me in soon to a proper human house, throw a chunk of meat to the very hungry Asriel in her garden, and let me have a nice bubble bath. (Snow can join if he wants to.) (Frankly, he should wash more, and someone ought to take care of his health.)

I open my mouth, but before I manage to speak, Daphne squeals in my ear, "you can't come in!"

I move my phone away from my ear and glance uneasily at Snow again. He is immersed in a conversation with Asriel, brushing his wings and pointing to the sky enthusiastically.

"Look," I try to sound reasonable. And determined. "We'll get the mud off our shoes before we go in, all right? But we've had a long flight, and before that we were on a three-month quest all over the Canadian wilderness, nearly died several times if you don't mind me saying, so I would sincerely appreciate it if you please—"

"You can't come in!" she wails. "We're under quarantine!"

I frown. "What?"

"Didn't you go through the airport?" Daphne asks. "Didn't they explain the restrictions? Actually, I'm surprised they let you into the country..."

"What on earth are you talking about?" I'm starting to feel like something is terribly wrong here. Snow is spreading his wings, clearly getting ready to join Asriel for an afternoon flight.

"It's Swithin, I just took him to the park, he wanted to meet Louie, you know—Lady Millicent's grandson, you remember him, he was invited for the twins' birthday—"

"Daphne," I try to stop her. She's unstoppable.

"—So he got sick, and she was just about to get that knee surgery, but then they cancelled all the elective surgeries, so—"

I wonder if  Daphne is having a stroke. A moment later I almost burst through the closed door when I realise she said Swithin was sick??

"Basilton," my father takes over the phone. "A pandemic broke out in the country. Louie got sick, and Swithin is under quarantine, to make sure he isn't sick himself so he won't infect others. Daphne thought it would be best if the whole family were under quarantine right now, so you can't come in." He pauses for a moment and continues, "You should also be under quarantine, according to the law."

"What? Which law?" Did we fall into a parallel universe accidentally? We should have listened to Shepard, who insisted that dragon flights may contain unexpected risks.

"How far did you wander out there in the wilderness?" he asks impatiently. "Check the news, for Crowley's sake!" he hangs up. I stare at my phone, puzzled, and then check the news.

Simon

Flying with Asriel is awesome. I fly underneath him, and he shields me from the wind. I really hope he'll stay for a while, though it's obvious that the woods surrounding the Grimms' hunting lodge are no match for his home in the Canadian Rockies. But it's just so nice to have someone to fly with.

My mood remains bright even when we land. Asriel is nibbling on a deer, and I lean on a wide tree trunk and listen to the birds until I fall asleep.

Baz

"Right, there are quarantine rules for all arrivals to the UK," Bunce announces nonchalantly over the phone. "Mum sneaked me in. Quarantine, Pfft. Honestly. As if she hadn't cast a protective spell on the whole family."

"Does it work?" I frown. Daphne's magic is a little weak, but my father's is all right, and I don't believe he would neglect his children that much.

"I'm not sure," Bunce admits. "Dad's still looking into it. It's a new disease and all that. Anyway, school is closed, and mum and dad are working from home, so they decided it would be all right if I just don't go outside."

Hmm. I'm not sure this would work with Daphne. She sounded utterly hysterical, as usual when her children are involved in something unpleasant. And this experimental spell the Bunces tried on themselves so recklessly wouldn't be acceptable to my father at all.

"Why don't you just go home?" Bunce suggests.

"To London? It won't be easy to land a dragon in our back alley." I think gloomily about my long-awaited lovely bubble bath. A global pandemic, seriously? Just when we got back from a long, dangerous, and filthy quest in the sheer Canadian wilderness? "Fuck," my heart sinks, "We'll have to sleep in the woods again."

Simon

I'm woken up by shouting. I hear a snatch of panicked voice before I even open my eyes, and immediately jump on my feet and draw out my sword.

"Simon!" It's Baz. Something's wrong. I start to run towards the sound of his voice, then instinctively rise up into the air. (My flying instincts got much better in the Canadian wilderness. We met a lot of weird things there.)

I find him easily from above. He's running into the forest, trying hastily to clear himself a path with magic. Baz still uses magic for everything. Sometimes it's useful, like when he decides we should clean the house. (And also sometimes on Saturday mornings, when I think I should get up already, and Baz spells a duvet so soft and warm over us that it drowns me like a puffy cloud, and with his cool arms around me, and his nose buried in the back of my neck, I can't even try to start moving. But I decide that's all right, eventually.)

"Simon," Baz gasps. "We need to set up camp."

"Huh?" I'm confused. Baz kept talking on and on about his precious bubble bath all the way back to England. He spent most of our flight in an endless monologue about all the different foams Daphne has.

He says something about a pandemic. I can only understand that his parents refuse to let us in. The idea itself doesn't surprise me that much—I've lived in more than one place that refused to let me in every now and then. Once I even slept in the backyard of the children's home the whole night. (I stayed in the kennel, the guard dog was always friendly to me.) (I would secretly give him some dried sausage sometimes. He just always seemed hungry.) But I thought Baz's parents were usually more hospitable than that.

I try to ask something, but Baz starts talking about quarantine rules. It annoys me a bit, reminds me of all the times the Mage tried to isolate me for my own protection.

"We can't go home," Baz says. "We can't leave Asriel alone here. So we'll have to sleep in the woods. Again." He looks so devastated. I have no choice but to think for both of us.

"We need an isolated place, right?" I try. "But comfortable. And with a forest big enough for Asriel. And a proper bath." Maybe Watford? Is it considered isolated? Maybe Agatha will spare us a room in the barn with the goats?

Baz looks at me. Looks around. Looks at me again "Maybe..." he says slowly. "My old home."

Baz

It's not like I haven't set foot in Hampshire since Snow turned the whole area into a giant dead spot. I got there once or twice to take some stuff. It just... feels suffocating. Like scuba diving under the sea—you know you have all the proper equipment, yet it's hard to shake off the feeling that there's just no air around. I've felt like that sometimes in the higher parts of the Canadian mountains, too. There was almost no magic there either. That's why we tried to stay close to moderately populated areas, even if they were miles away, and the magic was weak and unstable—because I just couldn't keep going without any magic at all for more than a day or two. My whole body starts to tingle, and I get restless, and also, I'm practically unable to do anything.

Snow looks at me. The emotions that show on his face chase one another: Fear. Guilt. Hesitation. Concern. Something soft, that almost makes me reach out for his hand. Guilt again.

"Baz," he mumbles, his head down. "There's no magic there."

"I know," I admit, a little uneasily.

"You hate things without magic."

"I don't hate you."

Simon's gaze jumps up. A sharp pain passes through him, and immediately melts into agonising self-doubt. He bites his lower lip. He still can't quite believe that it's possible to love him just the way he is, that magic doesn't mean that much to me, and nothing I say convinces him. And when I try to show him—well... it was difficult, up there in the Canadian mountains. A few hours without magic does indeed make my skin tingle restlessly, even if I try to hide it. And Simon feels it, and feels uncomfortable, and immediately rises up to try and find the nearest town on the horizon and head in its direction. Sometimes he would lift me up in the air, or force me to join a flight on Asriel, so we would get there sooner. And then, when I would immerse in the blissful reunion with my magic, he would become all quiet and distant, go fetch something and only return hours later. Or he would suddenly get tired and go to sleep. Usually, it passed away after a while (my magic duvet does wonders.) But it didn't exactly help convince him.

"Simon," I begin. He shakes his head violently.

"No, no. Let's just... rent an empty house or something. Some sort of an Airbnb. I'll pay."

"No, that's ridiculous." I don't want him to pay. I also don't want to sleep in a stranger's house. I've missed my bed so much that my heart aches.

"Then we'll get you back to London, Asriel and I. You stay there, and I'll take him to Epping Forest."

Pfft. He must be joking. As if I'll let him sleep in the woods cuddled with Asriel, while I'm stuck at home alone. Between this and spending a few quiet days with Snow without magic, I know my first choice.

"No," I say firmly. "I want to go to Hampshire. I... miss home." I manage to sound like I mean it at least a bit. I feel a kind of tremble deep down, that suggests I might actually mean it. I've never felt quite at home in Hampshire, not like in our room at Watford, but it's still the house I grew up in. Where all my siblings were born. The forest where I first learned how to hunt. I haven't thought about all this in years, but suddenly I can't shake off the thought of going back to Hampshire, and I feel a kind of anxious excitement. How would it feel, to be in my home without any magic in it?

Simon

I don't want to go back to Hampshire. I don't want to go back to Hampshire. I try to come up with a logical explanation that will convince Baz, but my mind is racing too fast and I can't quite speak.

Hampshire: The Humdrum throws a familiar red ball at me; a fire; fancy pyjamas covered in mud; wings. The memories strangle me like a thick fog. Baz's parents run outside screaming, and I fly away in a wild panic, navigating instinctively with the magic I stole from the world. I haven't been able to look Malcolm Grimm in the eye since, not that I had many opportunities. I'm not invited to visit often. Daphne is nicer, but sometimes she casually mentions something about her home, and I know how much she misses it. Baz also talks mindlessly about his home sometimes: the room he used to play in, the magnificent library, the ghost of some ancient uncle who lived in the woods and would occasionally help him find a wounded deer—Baz always felt better when he could put an animal out of its misery.

I stole all of that.

And yet the house remained in its place, as still and gloomy as a tombstone. Several other magickal families sold their houses to Normals and left their past behind, but not the Grimms. They would never give up their ancient family estate. But it's also very clear that it's no longer livable.

The burden of guilt settles on my chest and makes it hard to breathe. Faintly I mutter, "I don't want to go back to Hampshire." Because how will I be able to set a foot in this place and still look Baz in the eye, and believe that he is still capable of loving me, when he remembers everything I've done to the world? Everything I've done to him? Everything that I really am?

______________________________________________________________

Baz

I step carefully into the front hall of the place that used to be my childhood home, and is now a dark space full of covered furniture. We have a Normal housemaid who is supposed to come and clean up every couple of weeks, but I'm not certain she's doing a proper job. The windows are sealed, the floor creaks under my feet, and everything smells like dust. The house feels abandoned. I raise my wand to cast a few basic cleansing spells, and stop abruptly as realisation hits me. It's a dead spot. Huh.

Simon comes cautiously behind me. He's uncharacteristically quiet, his head is bowed and his shoulders are slumped as if he's trying to disappear inside himself. His wings are flattened against his back tightly, and even his golden curls look faded in the faint, dusty light.

He looks at the wand I'm still holding in my hand, and begins to say nervously, "Baz, I'm not sure that was a good idea—", and I just have to stop him before we find ourselves teetering in the wind again.

"Come on, Snow, we have a lot of work to do," I say with all the vigorous high spirit I can muster, throwing my wand aside. "Come and help to clean up."

Simon

Cleaning up takes forever, and I throw myself fully into it: I open the windows and sweep the floors and remove heavy, dark covers from rigid Victorian furniture. It's the least I can do. At first it's distressing, and I try not to look at Baz, who is trying to look enthusiastic and motivated rather than restless and grumpy. He walks through the rooms, grumbling to himself when he thinks I can't hear. But gradually, the monotonous physical work relaxes me. Then a vague feeling of familiarity starts nagging me, and I realise I've actually done all of this before.

I did a lot of housework in a lot of old Victorian houses that had been converted into public charity buildings, homes for the poor, neglected children. And even though It's been years since I last held a duster (our flat in London is regularly cleaned by magic, obviously), the well-practised movements from my childhood are woven naturally into my muscles, and I don't even have to think about it. The automatic movements feel right somehow, like a forgotten note of my true self, like meeting the Humdrum again and not fearing him anymore.

As time goes by, Baz tries less and less hard to fake enthusiasm, and dissolve into the familiar sour mood I’ve come to know all too well on our quest. Instead of drowning myself in guilt again, I decide to try to be productive, and turn to the bathroom. Baz isn't very skillful at Normal-style cleanings, but Merlin, I surely have more than enough adequate experience.

Baz

The bathroom is so warm and bright and clean and feels like home, that I almost forget to feel suffocated. I've spent so many hours here—soaking in the sudsy water, listening to violin and piano concerto records, and almost managing to push aside everything that was happening in my life: my father's disappointed looks, my aunt's mess, the blood I just drank in the forest. I've spent so many lovely summer evenings trying not to think about how Snow spends his time in his orphanage, and how at the beginning of each school year he returns too thin and too sad, and it takes Bunce at least a few days to cheer him up. So many hours I've spent in this luxurious bath, listening to Schubert's Ständchen, D 889 and dreaming up Snow wrapped in my arms, relaxed, satisfied, safe and happy.

I start the bath. Daphne gave us so much stuff before we left, that we barely managed to carry it all. ("We've got way too much anyway," she said. She also insisted that all the toilet paper in the supermarket had run out, but that surely was a joke.) With a happy sigh of delight, I open the bag and take out an ultra-soft exfoliating sponge, lavender bubble elixir, vanilla and patchouli body wash, white rose bath bombs, coconut bath oil, and milk and honey creamy foam. I hang the towels on the vintage copper hangers, choose some of my favourite soaps, and start filling the bath with hot, fragrant water.

Simon

I leave Baz in the bathroom and go handle the groceries in the kitchen. I haven't seen a kitchen this big in years, and I ease up into the routine work. I air out the cupboards and take the covers off the chairs, wipe the counters and put vegetables in the fridge, and suddenly I find myself singing.

In one of the children's homes, when I was maybe six or seven, Betsy the cook would sneak me biscuits when I helped her clean the oven, and let me watch her make lunch on Sundays. I pick up some potatoes and start peeling them absently, humming a nursery rhyme she used to sing. The notes dance around me as I once knew them: not as plain matter-of-factly magic spells, evidence of my constant failure, but as small drops of kindness that I've treasured in my childhood with yearning devotion. Precious moments of peace and warmth and attention that were gifted to me alone. I fry onions and ground beef and hum How Many Miles to Babylon, sinking into a foreign and unexpected feeling of almost-home. My old therapist asked me repeatedly about my childhood memories, and I always answered I don't remember anything; I really didn't. I didn't even know that I still had such memories hidden somewhere inside me.

I'm about to put the pie in the oven, singing loudly "If your heels are nimble and your toes are light, you may get there by candle-light", when Baz pops up behind me. He clears his throat, and I jerk and turn around. He stares at me.

"Are you trying to leave?"

"Huh?" I'm confused.

"It's a navigation spell," he sounds hurt.

I lean back on the counter. "Baz, it's a nursery rhyme," I say. And also, I don't have magic, and there is no magic here, and magic isn't everything there is to life, and where on earth could I possibly go—but that's all getting too much to say.

Baz nods. He's still scowling. I sigh and add, "I made a pie."

"You did?" Baz is surprised. I don't blame him. I don't cook much. There are so many pubs and bakeries and sandwich shops around us, Baz eats lunch at university or at work, and on Saturdays we're invited to Lady Ruth's, so I just don't see the point. But sometimes I think that maybe none of these is the actual issue—maybe there's just something too warm and domestic about home-cooked meals, that I don't feel entirely comfortable making it something I do. Something that's happening naturally in our house.

We don't talk about it much—about our place in London, which neither of us feels at home in, and there's still hardly any furniture in there even after three years. About our plans for the future, after Baz finishes his master's degree. About marriage and children. I know Baz wants a family, of course he does; He is the most domestic person I know. He won't admit it, but secretly he wants his father's life precisely: a beautiful home, a beautiful wedding and beautiful children, and a warm home-cooked family dinner at the end of each day.

We've never talked about it. Even after three years, I'm still uncomfortable with the idea of a family of my own, one that I fully belong to. I'm afraid to ruin everything for everyone again. Maybe if Baz would have asked... maybe I would try to deal with it somehow. But he never brings it up. He doesn't suggest that we buy a place that will feel truly ours. He doesn't even offer to cook. And he has no idea that I'm actually able to cook a bit, and may even enjoy it sometimes.

"Yes," I manage to say. "I made shepherd's pie."

Baz stares at me for a few more moments, then takes a step forward and reaches hesitantly at my hand. "Come to the bathtub."

Baz

Snow isn't used to baths. (Big surprise.) As I soak into the warm water and lean back blissfully, he curls up on the other side of the tub, his knees pulled up to his stomach, one hand swirling small cycles in the water and stirring the foam in a restless motion. I nudge his shin lightly with my foot, and he slides backwards instinctively until he's pressed against the wall of the tub, cowering like a trapped animal. I sigh and close my eyes, trying to dissolve into the peaceful inner space where I almost manage to forget about everything.

"How do you feel?" Snow's voice cuts through the steamy fog, small, almost inaudible. I open my eyes.

"Fine. What do you mean?"

"I just thought..." he hesitates. "About the... you know. Magic." He barely whispers the word, as if he's afraid to remind me.

I think about it. When I first stepped into the house, I felt the usual suffocation, but now—inside my homely-familiar soothing bubble bath—it doesn't feel quite as awful. I've missed home, I suddenly realise. I did not expect this. I never felt entirely comfortable in this house, but I guess I somewhat liked it nonetheless. "I feel all right," I say, and add carefully: "I think I missed home a little, maybe." One beat of silence passes, then two, and three, and then Simon's hushed voice cuts through: "I think I did, too."

Simon

I soften into the steamy mist. Everything smells sweet, clean, and soothing, and the water is a little too hot, but Baz's leg pressed against mine is cool enough to send a pleasant shiver through me. I see him watching me; his foot rubs against the bottom of my calf, pressing and loosening and pressing again. I look down at the small ripples my hand is swirling in the water, and dare to say, "Some memories came to me. From... before."

Baz says nothing. I can feel him tensing up. His foot lingers on my calf.

"They're… I don't know." I can't quite put it into words, and these memories are slippery and shaky. It's like trying to remember a smell, a touch. "There's just something about them."

"Something," Baz repeats.

"Something... not just bad."

Baz is quiet. He's waiting for me to continue, but I'm out of words. The air between us is strained like a string, and I can see him frown intently. A few achingly still moments pass, and I'm starting to think frantically about a change of subject, when he rises up suddenly. The water waves around him and splashes on the floor, and he doesn't even notice. "Wait a minute," he says hastily and hurries away.

Baz

I run back to the front hall, water dripping around me and my footsteps wetting the wooden floor, but I don't even think about a wiping spell. Lunging towards our bags still piled by the door, I pull out my violin, carefully wrapped in its case. I wipe my hands, pick it up carefully and run back to Snow, because I think I might be onto something. I might have found a new spell that no one has ever known before, that seemed utterly impossible up till now.

Simon

I manage to settle back into the fragrant bubbly water when Baz returns and pauses by the doorway, holding his violin. The door is half open, the air has cooled a little, and the water is now just the right temperature. He tucks the violin under his chin, lifts the bow and slides it gently over the strings. The opening notes rise up, then go down, and rise up again, in a melodic rhythm of a quiet stream:

"How many miles to Babylon? / Three score miles and ten / Can I get there by candle-light? / Yes, and back again."

The tender wave of music flows on, and on, and on. Baz's movements gradually relax and open up, dissolving into the melody, his eyes closed, his body sways absently from side to side. He is as beautiful as a black-and-white movie character, his pale skin shining like porcelain in the soft light of the bathroom, a dim glow surrounding him like a halo. The musical harmony echoes in the room and swirls around me. I relax into the water, immersed in warmth, comfort, and small drops of kindness that grow bigger and bigger until they become a trickle of rain, then a flood, then a river, then an ocean. The bath is a warm ocean on a golden summer day, and Baz's music is an endless flowing wave that rises and falls and rocks me tenderly, until I'm drifting away in a repetitive rhyme that feels like magic:

"Can I get there by candlelight? / Yes, and back again."

When Baz eventually stops, it feels like hours have passed by, and I realise that my eyes are wet and my breathing is deep. The air I exhale reaches my very bottom. When Baz slides back into the water, I shift towards him like he's gravity itself. I melt against his chest, my head's tilting back to rest on his shoulder, and my words begin to flow on their own.

Baz

Simon scatters incoherent fragments of stories that I don't even try to fully comprehend, and it's impossible anyway, no more than it's possible to line up the waves of the sea. Instead, I just hug him and rub his back over his wings. Tears run down from his eyes, and he doesn't wipe them away. I kiss his wet cheeks. When the flow of stories finally fades away, he curls up against my chest, his body limp, his eyes half closed, his head dropped back.

I'm starting to think he fell asleep when his gaze drifts towards me with an almost imperceptible shift, his breath fluttering against my cheek as he whispers, "Baz?"

"Hmm?" I murmur and kiss his shoulder.

"Do you want to buy a house together?" he asks in a low voice.

I close my eyes and pretend I didn't hear him. We had a long day, and Simon is tired, and his eyes are still swollen with tears. It would be hasty of me to dive into a conversation that he doesn't mean, that he'll do anything to forget about tomorrow morning. I kiss the side of his head, inhale the lavender scent of his hair and pretend to be immersed in a peaceful silence, until Simon squirms out of my embrace. I look up and my eyes meet his—very blue, very wide, and something like a hurt expectation spreads through them as he blinks rapidly a couple of times, but doesn't look away. "What do you think?" He whispers.

I pull him back into my arms and give myself a moment to calm down before the corners of my mouth curve up in a tentative smile. Simon is still looking at me. I'm not sure he's breathing. I'm not sure I'm breathing. I think of my home in Hampshire, of my home in Oxford, of my home at Watford, of Simon who has always been my home.

I let my full smile, wide and dazzled, slip out as I tighten my arms around him and my head tilts towards his. "When you're ready," I murmur into his ear, "you don't have to ask."

Simon laughs and kisses my neck, and even though the water is starting to cool down, my blood is boiling. Simon's wings spread over and wrap both of us in soft, warm leather. His tail slides and twists in the water around my thighs, teasing me. I let out a strangled breath and lean forward to kiss him. Simon smiles at me, puts a hand on the back of my neck and pulls me closer to him, and I can no longer separate teenage fantasies from reality -- and suddenly an unmistakable, loud ding cuts through the house.

Simon leans back with a frustrated groan. I grin at him as I get up and pull him outside, wrapping him in a big, fluffy towel so he doesn’t get cold. "Come on, Snow. Your pie is ready."

I allow myself to take a small, happy leap in the air when he goes in front of me and can't see. Then I grab his hand and walk with my back straight and a wide smile spread over my face—because today I'm the greatest mage who ever lived, and I discovered the hardest spell that ever was: the spell that will make Simon Snow feel at home.

______________________________________________________________

December 2022

Simon

I run into the house and throw the bags by the door. I don't have much time, and I need to get everything ready before Baz finishes his phone call. (He's immersed in a conversation with Penny about their final project. She called just in time, right before I parked, and the conversation can keep him busy for a while, but I better hurry still.) I grab one bag and run upstairs to the bathroom.

Somehow, even though Baz adores baths as much as Cleopatra herself, we haven't taken many of them together over the years. Our flat in London doesn't have a bath, and at first, I tried to suggest that we look at other places, but the prices just keep rising, and it didn't make sense to give it up. It's a lovely place just on the edge of the city, surrounded by lively green meadows, and nearby is a small forest where Baz can hunt. (It's not quite as remarkable as the woods in Hampshire, but at least he doesn't have to drink only rats anymore.) I like joining him there and spread my wings high above the trees when no one can see. (The neighbours got used to the wings—Penny told them I'm a particularly eccentric circus artist, and considering all the creepy guests she and Shepard bring over all the time, it doesn't seem to surprise them in the slightest. But they still don't know I can actually fly.)

We visit his parents on holidays, and Baz sometimes uses Daphne's well-equipped bath, but I don't feel comfortable joining him—because honestly, this is his parents' house. And I'm still not sure I actually like baths, all steamy and oily and so very still.

But I do love Baz, and despite what he believes, I am in fact capable of being romantic. I think.

And the oracle that Shepard met in the pub insisted that 2023 would be the most fortunate year ever known to mankind, so it's quite clear that now is the right time.

The bubbling water fills the tub. I know nothing about all those soaps and foams Agatha brought me, but Baz loves everything, so I reckon it doesn't matter. White thick bath cream mixes with rosy bath salts and pine-green foam, and I start handling the fairy lights and the roses (I'm not sure what to do with them, so I just put the bouquet in the sink.) The room starts to fog up in a sweet-fragranced cloud, just as Baz yells in irritation from the foot of the stairs: "You haven't even started unpacking?!"

Baz

I disconnect the phone call, and finally consume fully the sense of home. We returned from our quest to Edinburgh just the day before Christmas, and Simon would have stayed longer if I hadn't insisted that we can't miss Christmas eve with my family. We don't visit my parents much, but Christmas was settled years ago. My siblings love Simon—he flies the little ones over the lawns, tells adventure stories and plays football with them. Daphne makes an enormous amount of food, and fusses over us. (Simon never turns down an extra serving, and that wins her over every time.) Even my father got used to it eventually: he's still too formal with all of us, especially with him, but when he's settled in his armchair with a book while Simon plays with the children and Daphne chats cheerfully, he seems almost relaxed. Once or twice he even asked me about my "future plans" and glanced at Simon, which is as close to a pressure to settle down as he's probably capable of.

Still, when we returned from Edinburgh Simon insisted that we spend a night in Hampshire before going to Oxford. He said he wanted to "spend some alone time" with me. So we parted ways with Penny and Shepard at Southampton Airport, and rented a car for ourselves.

I'm still not sure how I feel about this house. We haven't been here much since the two weeks of the COVID quarantine, but occasionally when we pass through the area, we find ourselves staying for a few days. Simon feels strangely comfortable here, now that the entire area is a dead spot. He doesn't even have to think about magic. And I feel comfortable because Simon feels comfortable, and because I grew up here, and it will always feel like home to me at least a little. And also, because the silence between us here is both intimate and light. The house is large and spacious, and I can peacefully listen to music and play my violin for hours, without disturbing the neighbours like in our small city apartment. Simon wanders around in the woods (he's already befriended all the creatures in it), and flies miles away in every direction, until his cheeks are flushed and he can't stop smiling. When he comes back, we make dinner, and then he's soft and cuddly as we watch telly together. Honestly, what more could I ask.

I still have a hard time staying for too long in a completely non-magickal environment, but even I came to admit there's something to it. This Normal stillness brings out some sort of a new perspective. As Simon says, songs are just songs here, phrases are just phrases. We rediscover mundanity, and it's unexpectedly soothing at times. And when I look at Simon like that, I can see him as he probably sees himself most of the time: a Normal boy who grew up in a Normal environment and just wanted to belong somewhere. Not the greatest mage who ever lived, not a pool of overflowing and uncontrollable energy, not a weapon in a war that isn't his. Looking at him as he cooks and sings to himself mindlessly, I understand a little better his journey from being that Normal boy to The Mage's soldier and back, and how difficult it is for him to explain—even to himself—what he is now. In these moments I give up completely on explanations, solutions and interpretations, and just hug him or sing along with him for a while, and something about this homely warmth soothes us both. If only I had known before that this very place, which for years has made us both feel so anxious and detached, would give us a home.

Simon

I finish undressing when I hear Baz going up the stairs, carrying the bags. I look around one last time, take a deep breath and come out to the hallway.

"Do you mind helping...?" He starts, and I ignore it because I don’t have time for this right now. My heart is beating too fast. Baz frowns when I step closer and reach out for his hand. "What—" he starts, and I cut him off, "come on."

Baz drops the bags without taking his eyes off me. I pull him by the arm. "Come on, I prepared a bath."

Baz doesn't argue. (He never argues with a bath.) I open the door and the steam surrounds us immediately. Baz inhales sharply and stops in place, looking around at the fairy lights and the flowers and the rosy bubbly water. I pull him more urgently. "Come on, the water is getting cold." He's still staring around, so I start unbuttoning his shirt myself. He comes to his senses when I pull his shirt off completely, and finishes undressing on his own. Then he dips a cautious hand in the bath, lets out a blissful sigh, and slides inside. Step one—check, I think, and my heart is drumming in my chest like at the beginning of a quest.

"So, you finally felt like taking a bath?" Baz asks. He smiles, but I can hear the hesitation in his voice. He knows something is wrong. (I always argue with a bath.)

I clear my throat. I'm naked and shivering a little, though the room isn't cold. "Baz," I start. The steam is fogging up around me, so it's hard to see him, and it helps me to keep going. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday?" He furrows his eyebrows.

I let out a frustrated breath. "No! I mean, yes. It's Friday. But what else?"

"Um… the day before Christmas?"

"Right," I start fidgeting restlessly. "And also...?"

Baz leans back and settles lower in the water. He hums quietly for a moment before saying in a softened voice, "Why don't you tell me, Snow?"

"It's… um. Well. It's our anniversary."

Baz is silent for a couple of seconds. "We don't celebrate an anniversary."

"Right," I admit. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"It doesn't?" Baz asks.

"No. I mean, it exists. It's today. It's this night, actually. Which isn't exactly today, but waiting for the night would have ruined the surprise, so..."

"Snow, what on earth are you talking about?" He's starting to get up, and I think he's about to do something very Baz—to take my hand, to hug me, to pull me into the bath—and I just can't let that happen. I inhale dizzily, like at the moment before I spread my wings and fly.

"Baz, wait," I say shakily. "Sit down for a moment. I need to say something."

He soaks back into the water. Through the steam, I can see him frowning and worrying at his lip. I don't have much time left. I grope for the sink, get stung by a rose thorn (who was the bloody idiot who decided roses were romantic), turn around, take a few steps forward and lean on the edge of the bath. It feels ridiculous, it feels insane, it feels like the first moment when I'm rising up in the air and the wind hits my wings.

"So," I start again. "It's our anniversary. Our seventh anniversary," I add.

Baz nods, "Okay."

"And seven is a magickal number," I say. Baz frowns again, so I quickly continue, "And we've been living together for a long time. And I love you."

"I love you too," Baz says softly.

"And someone has to say it already." It's not going the way I planned. Not at all. I feel like I'm wobbling in the air and drifting up and down and rolling over, and then suddenly my wings spread wide and I just fly. "here."

I push the box into his wet palm. It almost slips out of his grip and sinks into the water, and I almost leap into the bath to rescue it, and it's just about the most ridiculous romantic moment ever.

Baz tightens his fingers around the box. He doesn't open it. With one delicate finger, he strokes the black velvet. He looks at me. I rub the back of my neck nervously. "Come on, open it."

Baz opens the box. A white gold ring with a thin dark-violet centre stripe sparkles in the soft, misty light. Baz loves violet. And the contrast will match the colour of his skin. And this is an ancient ring I got from that elf whose village Shepard and I helped save. Baz loves ancient and magickal things.

He still doesn't say anything. He looks at me. Looks at the ring. Looks at me again.

"Well?" I choke out.

Baz puts the ring on his finger. It fits him perfectly, because Baz is perfect. (And also, Penny helped me to spell it to his size.) He reaches a hand out to me and says, "come to the bathtub, Snow."

Baz

I pull Simon to me, tighten my arms around his chest and kiss his neck. I kiss him, and kiss some more, until I'm so hot that my vision blurs. I bite his soft skin carefully and suck one drop of blood. It's an intimately familiar dance that we've perfected over our years together, and still my heart leaps anxiously and then excitedly every single time. Simon presses against me and drops his head back on my shoulder, exposing more of his neck. He rubs my cheek with his warm skin, which always smells like brown sugar and butter and summer. My head spins, and for a moment I lose myself in it, in how good it all is, in how good he is, in how good he is to me. I suck another drop of blood and inhale his sweetness. Simon lets out a strangled whimper and his tail curls and tightens around my thigh. Small, quick breaths emerge from his parted lips. His skin burns against me and he grips my palms tight. I almost start to drown in all of this goodness, but then a flash of light on our clasped hands catches my eye, and I suddenly remember that we still have a conversation to finish.

I let go of his neck and turn his face towards me until his beautiful blue eyes meet mine. Simon blinks as if waking from a dream.

I clear my throat. "So," I say and look at my hand, then back at him. "You were saying something?"

Simon smiles. He pokes my thigh with the pointed end of his tail. "Do I really have to say it?"

My lips curve up in an effort to imitate my old sneer. I'm failing shamefully, of course; A vague, affectionate shadow of a smirk hangs at the corners of my mouth as I raise up an eyebrow and say, "Use your words, Snow."

Simon lets out a wet laugh and buries his face in my shoulder. His muffled voice vibrates against my skin as he asks hoarsely, "Do you wanna marry me?"

Simon

It's the worst proposal in history. I know that. Baz absolutely knows that. I should have done everything differently, and now it's hopeless. Maybe we could just forget about it all, and he'll go back to drinking me.

Baz

It's the best proposal in history. And I mean in all five dimensions Bunce's parents are married in, and in all the other dimensions there are.

"Yes," I say. I lift our joint hands and kiss his knuckles. I run my fingers through his wet hair, stroke his cheek fondly with my thumb, and pull him for another kiss. Simon melts into me and a sigh of relief escapes him. He laughs and says, "Okay." I think he's wiping his eyes. His wings spread over my shoulders and wrap us both. I kiss him again, and again, and again, then slip back down the familiar path to his neck. "On one condition," I murmur against his skin, and kiss a mole there. "After the wedding, we're getting a new house, with a bath."

#simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #carry on #wayward son #simon snow trilogy #any way the wind blows #bubble bath #bite! #a little angst and lots of fluff #mentions of COVID-19 #my first one here #hello everyone

[artemiseamoon]

Souls on fire

A modern Viking au

An old deleted fic going straight to A03

I’ll upload the chapters as I have time, when thr mood strikes. Chapter 1 up now.

📖Read on A03

Summary: When the world went on lockdown in 2020, Marcelle was stuck in her California hotel room. Her ex-fiancé Bjorn invited her to stay with him and his wife at their home in Big Sur. After some hesitation, Marcelle took the offer. As the weeks pass by, the already awkward situation becomes more complex as repressed feelings and sexual longings surface.

Warnings: quarantine and lockdown, marriage issues, cheating, falling in love with someone else, sexual discovery and questioning, angst, sexual themes and situations, infidelity, infertility, anger issues and outburst.

Background: This started as a quarantine writing challenge one-shot, in 2020. Of course, this was not to make light of the situation, writing at that time really helped me and other people get through it, and feel less lonely. This fic was never finished, though I do have an outline for it, including the ending. I deleted it from tumblr twice. Anyway, I'm called back to it after years so here it is after a big revision, to be archived and finished. I will not be cross posting this, the only place to read it is here. I'm not sure how many chapters this will be yet, the new chapter 1 (below) combines the old chapter 1 and 2.

Moodboards

#modern Viking au #modern bjorn ironside #modern gunnhild #ofc #fic: souls on fire #a reupload from 2020 #past bjorn x ofc #Gunnhild x ofc

[himboskywalker]

Please somebody make a mood oard for Tag of Anakin in Revolent Of You and it’s just every strange thing anons have compared him to and please be serious about it with filters and aesthetic because I will laugh so hard. Also yes to whoever said CMWIA 2020 update vibes, also been around since then and it’s got me all nostalgic 🥹 Tag you’ve been spreading joy for a couple tough years, thanks a bunch!

Lmaooooo just crusty white dogs and horses and snakes and other creatures.

Awww and thank you dear 🥺❤️I wouldn’t go back to 2020 for anything but I do miss how much I was able to write during quarantine. It’s ridiculous how much a full time job eats away at your time and energy. I’m always so envious of writers who are able to consistently put out updates despite everyone’s lives being collectively crazy. But I’m so glad if I’ve been able to give anything to you guys in the last 2 years to make life any better or more endurable! I’ve slowed down so much in my content but looking at my discography of chaos makes me feel accomplished (I pretend I do not see the wips)

#my fanfic stuff #redolent of you #anons

[theparadoxmachine]

It is so weird to me hearing people talk about the hobbies and shit they picked up while "under lockdown" and asking people what they did "during the lockdown." I don't think that's ever going to not be surreal to me.

I know I talk about this a lot but I've acquired some new followers recently so if you're reading this and you weren't aware, I had a decompressive craniectomy in March of 2020. COVID and lockdown/quarantine/shelter in place hit my area literally while I was under anaesthesia having brain surgery.

Me staying in my apartment for weeks was part of the plan, which honestly was decent timing because I wasn't impacted too badly by the panic buying except when I needed some unforeseen medical supplies and no way to acquire them quickly. But I couldn't so anything. I couldn't even lift anything for the first few weeks. I couldn't shower without someone around to make sure I didn't lose my balance and crack my head open.

This is where ordinary people got really fucking annoying because they kept trying to act like they knew how I felt and yeah, no. You not showering regularly because you have no incentive because you aren't going into the office is NOT the same as me not showering because I just had part of my skull surgically removed. You losing track of time because your routine has been seriously disrupted is not the same as me losing track of days because I'm on heavy opioids because my entire head is being held together with surgical grade superglue. Your hair being a mess because you haven't been to the salon in 6 weeks is not the same as me feeling self conscious because my last haircut was having my head shaved by a surgical nurse. (I still harbor violent hatred in my heart for the woman in that infamous picture where she's protesting lockdown because she wants her hair done.)

That's not to denigrate how terrifying this all was and still is, but it is NOT a comparable situation.

But it gets awkward because I'm seeing people sort of casually talking about the things they did during lockdown and asking people what they did, how they spent their time in quarantine and what can I say? "I was recovering from brain surgery." And that instantly changes the mood of the conversation and I feel this sense of otherness. It's no ones fault, I'm not saying that, but it feels so weird whenever it comes up and then I have to deal with their horrified looks and the gasps and everything else when you casually mention you had brain surgery.

And I'm grateful for those expressions because I tend to trivialize my most traumatic experiences as a coping mechanism and I need that reminder that oh yeah, that was a huge thing I went through and it's ok and healthy to consider it a form of trauma. But the feeling of otherness is still there because it's like the entire world had a massive traumatic experience that I missed out on in favor of a completely different traumatic experience.

I know I talk about the surgery a lot, maybe more than I should, but I think about it sometimes in relation to the timing with covid and how disconnected I feel from everyone. And again, that's the thing. People were feeling disconnected from each other during lockdown because they were experiencing a world shattering, world encompassing situation. I felt disconnected from everyone and still do because I wasn't.

#tw covid #brain surgery

[oraclekleo]

Kleo, are you looking forward to Christmas?

Not really, to be frank. I was never big on Christmas. Ever since parents divorced and my sister and me stayed with mom, we all agreed not to make fuss anymore as it was just putting pressure on us. We stopped doing decorations, we don't have the tree, we don't follow the customs and if we are not in the mood, we don't even eat traditional meals. Also we don't stick to the schedule of gifts giving and just give each other gifts on whichever day we want from like 20th-31st December, no big deal. The christmas in 2020 were the best I ever had. We were quarantined because mom had covid so I didn't have to go visit relatives. Mom basically slept through, I only tended her with tea and food and otherwise I was free to do what I wanted in peace. Best christmas ever. I don't like visiting relatives. My most traumatic memories from my childhood are the family gatherings. Now I'm perfectly happy living only with mom and we don't do anything special on these 'family' festivals. It's nice to have free days, though. This year it sucks as the holidays are mostly on weekends.

So no, I'm not hyped because of Christmas. Also I don't celebrate New Year. I hate alcohol (it tastes bleh) and fireworks because they scare my doggie and disturb my sleep.

Yes, Kleo is pretty boring person with a soul of 70-year-old but hey! That's how it happens sometimes. 😂

#oracle kleo

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #298: Praxeus

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-298-praxeus/

Timestamp #298: Praxeus

Doctor Who: Praxeus (1 episode, s12e06, 2020)

A lot of moving parts in a story where nothing is as it seems.

Picking up immediately after Fugitive of the Judoon, several plot threads are rapidly laid down.

A spacecraft plummets toward Earth. An astronaut named Adam Lang tries to salvage it, but his capsule begins to spin violently. On the planet below, a suspended police officer named Jake Willis tackles a shoplifter, but he’s scolded by his manager for his actions. Finally, in Peru, Gabriela Camara and Jamila Velez are disgusted by a river polluted by plastic waste. Later that night, Jamila is attacked by an unseen force.

Jake retires to a local bar and sees the news about Adam Lang’s crash. Jake is distraught, but his mood changes when he receives a text message from someone claiming to be Adam asking for help in Hong Kong. He tries to break into a warehouse and fails. Lucky for him, Yaz and Graham arrive with a set of skeleton keys. He questions Graham and Yaz, assuming they are from the European Space Agency, but Yaz explains they’re following some strange energy readings. They’re also being watched by a man in a hazmat suit.

Gabriela wakes up and searches for Jamila. When a bird falls from the sky, Ryan arrives and warns her away from it. Gabriela presses Ryan about her friend before introducing herself as a travel vlog influencer. She soon gets a message about an ambulance call-out a mile away.

In Madagascar, a lab worker named Aramu greets his co-worker Suki Cheng. They both rush to help the Doctor as the Time Lord rescues someone from the ocean. The stranded man is a member of the US Navy, a survivor of a recent submarine accident. The sailor is soon consumed by a rock-like substance and disintegrates. The two lab workers are very confused.

Ryan and Gabriela arrive at a deserted San Pedro hospital. Ryan finds another dead bird and Gabriela finds Jamila inside a quarantine area. Jamila is covered in the same stone substance, prompting Ryan to call the Doctor. The TARDIS arrives as Jamila disintegrates, leaving Gabriela upset as the Doctor realizes the severity of the situation.

Yaz and Graham track down the strange energy readings and find a room filled with alien consoles. Adam is strapped to a table, looking sick and still in his spacesuit. Yaz calls the Doctor as two figures in hazmat suits burst in and start shooting. Yaz distracts them with a control panel while Jake and Graham escape with Adam. Jake steals the rifles and shoots the attackers. The Doctor arrives and realizes the attackers and their weapons aren’t from Earth.

All of the players thus far board the TARDIS, but Yaz and Gabriela decide to stay behind and study the control device. The Doctor is hesitant but soon relents, sending the TARDIS on its way and examining Adam. She gets a call from Madagascar and returns to the beach. As the team heads for the lab, Graham learns that Adam and Jake are married but on a break. Meanwhile, the birds begin to swarm over the beach.

In Hong Kong, Yaz determines that the control panel is triangulating signals from two other places, including Madagascar. One of the hazmat aliens survived, and it stumbles into the room and teleports away. Yaz and Gabriela decide to follow, landing somewhere dark but safe amid equipment from the downed submarine

Ryan shows a dead bird to the Doctor and she asks him to dissect it. She asks Graham and Jake to give Adam an IV drip, then works with Suki to analyze Adam’s readings. The astronaut is infected with an alien pathogen and the Doctor has no idea how to stop it. Jake leaves and Graham tries to comfort him. Jake explains that he’s not good with emotions, commitment, or foreign travel, and knowing that his husband is an astronaut, he doesn’t believe that Adam could possibly love him.

Jake returns to Adam’s side as Suki analyzes Adam’s blood. Ryan finds that the bird is full of plastic, and the Doctor presumes that the alien pathogen attacked and metastasized the plastic. The Doctor rules out Auton interference before remembering that humans of the era always ingest microplastics. The pathogen has a buffet, but the Doctor notices that the bird’s natural enzymes are fighting the infection. Suki theorizes that she could make a countervirus.

The Doctor contacts Yaz and exchanges information. When she finds out that an alien signal is coming from Madagascar, she has an epiphany about Suki and learns that the infection is called Praxeus. Suki teleports away as the birds attack the lab. Everyone barely escapes with the samples and boards the TARDIS. Unfortunately, Aramu was previously attacked and unable to join them.

Adam volunteers for a clinical trial of the Doctor’s cure. The Doctor administers the antidote and programs the TARDIS to make more if it succeeds. She then leaves Adam and Jake in the TARDIS while the others search for Yaz and Gabriela. They discover they’re on an alien base under the Indian Ocean, centered under one of the world’s plastic pollution gyres. The birds are the infection vector and the travelers need to find Suki to stop them.

They find one of the aliens and suppose they’re also trying to find a cure. They soon find Suki, the last of her crew from a planet ruined by Praxeus. She traveled there to find a perfect lab and Earth fit the bill. The spacecraft was the source of the strange energy readings and the radiation that brought down Adam’s ship. The Doctor tries to help Suki but Praxeus overcomes the alien woman. Luckily, Jake and a cured Adam arrive with the antidote, and the team works together to distribute the cure with the alien shuttle’s organic engines. Everyone returns to the TARDIS as the shuttle takes off and floods the alien base, but Jake decides to stay behind when the shuttle’s autopilot fails.

The plan succeeds, but everyone thinks Jake has died after the shuttle disintegrates. The Doctor materializes the TARDIS around Jake at the last minute and the husbands kiss in gratitude.

Returning to the beach, Team TARDIS bids farewell to their new friends. They go their own ways, safe with the knowledge that no matter how far apart they are, the seven billion connected lives are safe.

This story has a lot of potential, but it gets bogged down with the varying plot threads, none of which gets enough room to breathe. It’s another example of a Chibnall-era story that would thrive as a two-parter with another editing pass.

The ecological message is definitely heavy-handed, but it doesn’t oppressively stifle the story like Orphan 55. We’ve had a preachy Doctor in the past, but this era’s interpretation lacks a degree of finesse.

Also missing in the finesse department is this story’s twist: I love adventures where there is no clear villain and the feint that portrays Suki as the villain is underwhelming because we learn that she’s a victim of Praxeus within minutes of her big reveal. With a little more subtlety, the twist could have been powerful on the level of other Doctor Who stories where the true villain is a force of nature instead of an army or single entity.

That said, I like the fast-moving mystery plot where the Doctor had to split her team to solve the puzzle. I also like the parallels between Praxeus and COVID-19, which was a full-blown pandemic when this episode aired.

Finally, I perked up when the Doctor mentioned the Autons. Their inclusion here would have made sense – we’ve only seen them in action three times in the franchise: Spearhead from Space, Terror of the Autons, and Rose – but, while creepy mannequins are fun additions to Doctor Who, it was a good move to not have a story about plastic pollution lean on them as villains.

This story settled out at a high 3, and as I’ve mentioned over the years, I tend to round up.

Rating: 4/5 – “Would you care for a jelly baby?”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: Can You Hear Me?

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

#Doctor Who #Thirteenth Doctor #Timestamps Project

[thenomadinside]

2020 Soundtrack of Life: End of Year

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“Together Again” by Janet Jackson

It’s been ages since I last listened to or even heard a Janet Jackson song being played but this is one of those classic songs that you get hyped up when it randomly pops up. This song reappeared during lockdown when I was at my parent’s home in New Jersey when one of my friends had the initiative to get all of our friends from all over the world to participate in a full fledged lip dub. It was fun to be a part of this project that captured us all in our habitat during an unusual time, while promoting an optimistic message that we will eventually be together again post-COVID.

“Grind and Hustle” by DROELOE

Prior to jumping on my flight to Taiwan, I was contemplating on taking language courses in Taiwan and had been doing research by watching a bunch of Youtube videos on peoples experiences at the various programs offered. I came across a Youtuber that documented his experience taking a gap year after graduating from college. From his videos, it seemed a large portion of that year was spent in Taiwan where he took Mandarin classes at Shida for several months. He used this song in one of his vlogs and really enjoyed it as it was a very upbeat, motivational song.

“刻在我心底的名字” by Crowd Lu Upon completing my 15-day hotel quarantine, I reacquainting myself with things that I haven’t been able to partake in during shelter in place. At the time, I remembered feeling oddly naughty doing something as mundane as watching a movie at a theatre, knowing full well that my friends back in the States were stuck in their homes. This song blew up last year after being the feature song of a popular movie called, “Your Name Engraved Herein” that got five Golden Horse Award nominations. This song definitely helped round out the entire mood and feeling of the movie which was sentimental, romantic, and emotionally frustrating at the same time.

I generally don’t choose Taiwanese films to watch by choice as from the movies I’ve watched before, the acting usually leaves much to be desired but I was pleasantly impressed with this film. They had casted two relatively fresh leads that had great on camera chemistry and the acting felt natural and authentic to me. It was funny because after this movie and song blew up, I would constantly hear this song being played in retail stores, cafes and performances by outdoor street performers where it got almost borderline annoying.

“怪天氣” by YELLOW, 9m88 One of the things that I missed during lockdown was taking my biweekly dance classes at Alvin Ailey in New York City. When I got to Taiwan, I was looking into dance studios in my neighborhood and came across one called “Jimmy Dance Studio” through Youtube. I was sold after watching this dance video from one of their hip hip instructors that used this song in their choreography. I am a huge fan of this sort of style which is more smooth, groovy, and jazzy. In the States, I have found it really difficult to find instructors who have this style so I was pleasantly surprised to come across this on their channel. This led me to taking a few one-off classes before purchasing a class package.

“Butter” by HowZ Upon arrival, it didn’t take long before my Spotify playlist inevitably began populating with Taiwanese songs. Discovered through the radio feature on Spotify, ”Butter” by HowZ was one of the first few songs that I saved from a more local artist. I can’t say that the lyrics are particularly well written but the song is smooth and just oozing with… dare I say, butter? When I attended my first live music concert in Yuanshan, HowZ coincidentally happened to be one of the guest performers and that’s when I was able to officially put a face to the name.

“Joy” by FKJ I love all of FKJ songs because they expertly integrate jazz, groove and hip hop into their songs and it especially sounds amazing in a concert setting. I remember after taking the workshop of one of my hip hop instructors from Jimmy Dance Studio, he extended a public invitation to his students to come attend a performance in Yuanshan that he would be DJ’ing at. I was probably the only one who attended from that group he extended an invitation to but I thoroughly enjoyed it as it had a very “underground” vibe to it. This was the first concert I attended by myself and “Joy” was one of the first few songs that was played to pre-hype the crowd before the performers came on stage.

“I think too much” by Christian French At Ultra (a music festival that happened in Taiwan last year), I met these two English teachers and for one reason or another happened to be discussing a lack of authentic Mexican food in Taiwan. They recommended a decent place called ‘Twinkeyz Tacos’ that was one of the best that they’ve found in Taiwan. I ended up going the next day and happened to take a few live photos of both the food and interior design. Later in the day, I was reviewing photos and because the photos were live photos I caught of snippet of this song being played in the background. I spent an embarrassingly long time with the help of my awesome roommate from New York dissecting the lyrics to this song. I related to this song because in certain aspects of my life, I know that I can be a huge over-thinker which is a trait that I believe I’ve acquired from my mom. Over the years, I have conditioned myself to think less in the greater aspect of things because they don’t actually matter, but I related to this song because there was a lot going on in my mind at the time that provided a lot of unnecessary stress in my life.

“Never change” by enjoihu I first heard of this 18-year old independent musician when first attending one of my favorites bars in Taipei called “Draftland.” That time we went there was some sort of ongoing collaboration featuring both a local graphic artist and musician (in this case, enjoihu). I am a huge advocate of these sort of community-oriented events as they are engaging and adds a level of change to a given space which promotes retention. I remember specifically taking note of enjoihu’s playlist in the second room on the first floor and thought his mix completed the concept of that space very well and gave a rather nice ambient mood. I have since followed him on Soundcloud and I’d say his music is such a mood to me as his work is inspired by the lofi genre, and is my favorite combination of lofi, classical notes, rap and old school hip hop. In my mind, he is considered to be the Tennyson of Taiwan.

“睡不著” by 壞特 ?te This artist was one that also gained a lot of recognition from a local perspective last year and I would commonly hear her songs more often being played at local coffee shops as her style is more mellow, artistic and more suited for those sorts of chillax environments. I applaud her for being able to create such a distinct brand for herself as she never shows her face as its oftentimes hidden by an oversized sunhat. My friend once went to a dinner and told me that some relatively well known female artist with a big hat that covered her entire face was performing and I immediately knew it was her. Initially I thought it was really just her aesthetic but I eventually found out that her day time occupation is a doctor the reason why she dresses like that is because she has to conceal her identity.

“別問很可怕” by J.Sheon

This is one of my favorite songs and proud to say that I can read almost 90% of the lyrics in Chinese for this song even though I still butcher it a bit during KTV. I don’t know too much about his background but I believe J.Sheon is a ABC and has since moved to Taiwan. This was also one of the first few local songs that popped up in my music playlist and I really enjoyed it as it was melodic, easy to ingest and was very smooth. Fun fact, I heard he owns or is an investor at the bar Vine Bar in 東區

[whocaresanymoreamiright]

my current outfit and mood is soooo 2020 autumn quarantine online school calm afternoon coded

[dr-zoran-potparic]

Lift Your Mood and Appearances – Post-Quarantine Plastic Surgery with Dr. Zoran!

After four grueling months of quarantine, patients are ready to re-emerge in the world with a refreshed look thanks to plastic surgery. Dr. Zoran Potparic, a board-certified Fort Lauderdale plastic surgeon, explores the post-quarantine popular procedures that people are pursuing. The COVID-19 pandemic has definitely given everyone an unprecedented pause which we have been happy to stand still and appreciate the world around us a little more. But, there are also those that took this time to voluntarily slow down and turn the attention inward. One the most popular elective procedures during this time has been plastic surgery. People are taking this opportunity to get ahead of the game and have procedures done in the comfort and safety of their own homes. The following are the top three post-quarantine plastic surgery procedures of this year 2Q 2020: * Body Contouring/Mommy Makeover: This procedure combines multiple cosmetic procedures to provide an overall enhancement of the body. Most popular body contouring procedures are liposuction and tummy tuck which are the best way to sculpt your body shape and achieve the body you’ve always wanted. * Breast Augmentation: A breast augmentation is popular among women wanting to give their chest and breasts a fuller, more proportionate appearance. This procedure is one of the quickest ways to instantly enhance your look with the desired outcome. * Facial Contouring: Facial plastic surgery around the eyes, nose, and chin are the right way to make you look refreshed and well-rested. This procedure is the best to change the appearance to a more symmetrical and balanced look. If you are considering one of these procedures, please visit Dr. Zoran Potparic's website where you can find more useful information about the procedure, safety precautions and COVID-19 protocols. To learn more details about your options for post-quarantine plastic surgery, please check out the full article here.

#Tummy Tucks #Breast Augmentation #Neck Lift #Nose Surgery #Body Lift