#‘it seems like we’re all pretty team Theo’
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
THEOBEL SHIPPERS HOW ARE WE FUCKING FEELING TONIGHT
381 notes · View notes
simmerdowndee · 6 months ago
Text
WINDENBURG YEARS S2EP4 PART 3
Today is our gender reveal! I’m so excited to find out what we are having. Theo’s pretty excited too. He is definitely team girl. Everyone else seems to be as well with the exception of our fathers being team boys. My dad really wants another boy in the family, poor guy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After letting everyone eat the snacks we prepared and have some fancy mocktails, we decide it’s finally time to find out what we’re officially having!
Dakota: Thank you everyone for coming!
Tumblr media
Dakota: We are very excited to finally find out whether we’re having a boy or girl.
Theo: Alright, you ready.
Tumblr media
Dakota: Yes.
Theo: 1
Tumblr media
Dakota: 2
Tumblr media
Dakota and Theo: 3
Tumblr media
Dakota: It’s a girl!!
Tumblr media
Theo: I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!
Tumblr media
Laura: Koda, look at the confetti.
Tumblr media
I look down at all the pink confetti & there’s words on some.
Theo: Does that say…. twins?
Dakota: TWINS?
Laura: When I went to pick up the envelope from your doctor, she informed me that she was looking at your ultrasounds after you left and saw another baby. She didn’t realize one was hiding behind the other.
Dakota: Wait, so its twin girls?
Laura: Yes, twin girls!!
Theo: That’s amazing babe.
Tumblr media
Dakota: Now that explains why I feel like I’m so big.
Everyone: Congratulations!
TWIN GIRLS? I don’t even know how to process that just yet. Theo is ecstatic. He kept a smile on his face for the remainder of the party. Two babies at once… Well, I can kiss that natural birth goodbye….
1 note · View note
cadybear420 · 1 year ago
Text
when it seems like most books nowadays are single LI ones on an app called Choices… I think that’s where we’re starting to run into problems
This is exactly my problem too. The first few single LI books I played, I could shrug off as "they want it to be a story about the relationship with this particular character". But then in late 2021, pretty much every story is either single customizable LI or double customizable LI and IDK how that isn't anything other than laziness.
With the exception of BOLAS 2 which is a sequel to a 2020 book, in these past two years there have been only 2 stories that had non-customizable LIs: WTD and MAH. And even MAH had Tyler be customizable, though it's not as glaring in this case.
I don't think every LI always has to have their race/ethnicity/sexuality/gender/etc. inherently matter in the story. DLS for example- the book is campy shameless fun smut, it's not exactly necessary for f!Charlie to talk about her different experience as a female carpenter.
But a lot of the time, it can make the character feel so much more authentic. Whether it's the big explicit stuff like Andy being targeted on the team for being Asian and trans (and short), some of the more subtextual/subtle stuff like Aiden's parents' unfair treatment of him, or even down to the little things like Ajay calling MC "janu" ("my dear" in many South Asian languages) when they're dating.
But when EVERY LI in your recent stories is customizable, you pretty much nerf any chances of having that form of authenticity for your LIs. It's understandable that Charlie's race and gender wouldn't matter all that much in a book like DLS. But what about in a book like SOD where there's tons of historical context that would significantly change the experiences for a female and/or POC Theo? If Theo was canonically set as a POC woman the story would be more likely to address her specific experiences, but since they're GOC... not so much.
Tbh I don’t miss multiple LI options in choices books because they rarely ever balanced having many li at once with the amount of scenes and dialogue given to them.
A prime example of this is TE. They focused heavily for MANY chapters IN A ROW on Beckett in both books and gave dust to the other LI until it was their time. They have proven they cannot balance many li at once when they have a clear (white male) favorite each time.
18 notes · View notes
jakelandryshorts · 2 years ago
Text
Coach has a new Training Method: Getting the App
Tumblr media
“What are those dumbasses doing?” Coach Balter glared. He’d been coaching at the college for nearly 30 years now and never saw two guys so fit for athletics yet, refusing to even attempt them. Theo and Austin were on the other side of the gym flexing. And boy was there a lot to flex. Their bodies were fit to go on stage at any time and they knew it. It wasn’t till Austin started to take off his shirt that Coach Balter shouted. “HEY!” his deep voice echoed off the gym walls. Theo fumbled with his phone and dropped it. “What do you idiots think you’re doing?” He stomped over to them, glaring up at them.
“I-I-I…” Stammered Austin.
Theo was quick to pick up his slack. “We were just posing. Then upload a couple of pics online.”
Coach Balter let out an angry huff. These two guys should have known better. Each one was built like a fucking statue and he would have loved to put them on one of his teams. Didn’t matter if it was football, lacrosse, rugby, he knew they could handle it. “You know damn well not to take your clothes off in the gym. It’s distracting. And rude. Other guys get uncomfortable and girls get distracted,” he explained.
Austin looked to Theo for support who was going back to his phone, typing something in it. “We were just—”
Balter snatched it out of his hand. “You were just what?” he held the phone up, showing it off. “You’re not in high school anymore. Even if I don’t have direct authority over you, I can still have authority in this gym. Finish your workout and you can have it back.”
Theo held out his hand. “Alright. We’re done.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Coach Balter grit his teeth. “You two fuck heads just walked in here and started stripping. Don’t fucking lie to me.”
It was the first time Coach Balter had actually seen Theo stunned. Still, he held his ground. Almost like he was ready to square up with the older coach. But Austin was quick to interject. “Let’s just do a quick work out. Alright?” Austin put his arm on Theo’s, pulling it lightly. Then leaned in closely, whispering, “It’ll be fun testing these bodies out...”
“Fine,” Theo grumbled. “But I’ll be back.”
Coach Balter nodded. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the two had walked away. That was one fight he was not wanting to have. Even if he could handle himself fairly well, he wasn’t exactly a spring chicken anymore. A lot of his muscles had gone a bit soft and his belly had grown pretty far out in front of him. He could take a hit or two from some punk, but not from someone built like Theo. He was just glad that Austin was such a softie. Even though the guy had to be at least 230 with an 8% body fat, he still acted like he was some scrawny little nerd who’d never lifted in his life.
Though, looking over at the two, they seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble actually lifting the weights. Coach Balter squinted, unsure how two guys so big, could be so confused with a gym. Theo’s eyes kept darting back to him. Coach Balter just held up the phone and waved it, with an angry grin. ‘You know you’re not getting this back till you finish a workout,’ was plastered all over his face and it only seemed to make Theo even angrier.
That’s when the phone vibrated. ‘The hell!?’ Coach Balter fumbled with it and then looked at the screen.
{New user detected. Please touch screen to begin.}
Fumbling with the phone, Coach Balter accidently touched the screen and it opened up.
{New user identified. Initiating. Process complete. Enjoy your new Chronivac experience.}
{Type what you would like to change.}
Coach Balter stared at the screen blankly. What kind of app was this? It was so simple. Nothing on the screen except for a blank white box and the greyed out words, ‘type what you would like to change.’ What even could it be? His fingers hovered over it, thumb touching the white space and the keyboard showed up. ‘Students listen to me when I tell them what to do.’ He typed. It was always frustrating having the students act as though they owned the place. Even if they were paying to be here, there still needed to rules. Some of them acted so high and mighty that he felt like he just had to pass them even if they shouldn’t have passed.
“HEY!” Theo shouted from across the gym. “Are you going through my phone!?”
“Until you finish your workout, this is mine. So, finish your god damn workout!” he shouted back. Instantly Theo stiffened up and went back to the weights. Austin looked at him for support but continued to follow his lead. “Oh fuck…” Coach Balter muttered to himself as he watched Theo continue his workout. It was like he was a man on a mission, actually doing the exercises and using more proper form and heavier weights than he had been. “Did this…” he looked down at the phone and saw the text there along with the same greyed out words right below it.
{Type what you would like to change.}
Coach Balter couldn’t confirm it, yet it was hard to deny that it worked. The only person Theo ever listened to was his boyfriend. To think that he so diligently and perfectly listened to a teacher’s words was unheard of. He stared at the phone a bit more. He needed more confirmation. Something that he could actually prove changed. He thought about it a bit more before typing, ‘I only have a 9% body fat.’
“Woah,” Coach Balter’s body lurched forward. He could feel it almost instantly as his muscles started to tighten up. Over the years, holding onto a thin waist and defined arms became harder and harder to do. His belly had ballooned out in front of him before he realized it. But now it was traveling in the opposite direction. He could see it pulling in on itself. The hefty belly he’d been so ashamed of completely disappearing. All the while the rest of his body was doing the same. Any amount of fat seemed to disappear. His shoulders had grown wider and rounder. The definition in his biceps only became more prominent. More surprising was that they didn’t seem to shrink at all. If anything, they started to grow.
Though, he did let out a bit of a whimper as his quads grew. His balls had accidently swung between his growing quads, only to get smashed between the hard muscles. “Damn…” Coach Balter smiled when he recovered. At 5’10” and 240 pounds, his fat looked to be pretty good. Now he just looked like a little fireplug with too wide of shoulders and thin of hips. His muscles were maybe just a bit too big to properly fit his body.
‘I’m 6’6”,’ he quickly added to the phone. Instantly he started growing taller. He could feel it in his bones as they lengthened and watched as his muscles grew more suited to his body. Then quickly added another 20 pounds of muscle to really fill it out. Every part of the coach bulged. The athletic gear he was wearing only seemed to grow to fit his body even better. But then he looked at the white color that had overtaken his hair. A bit of anger filled him as he remembered that he was still aging. Even with the boost to his muscles, he still felt like he wasn’t in his prime.
‘I’m only 35 years old,’ Coach Balter added. “Oh fuck yeah…” a deep moan rolled out of his mouth as he felt the vitality of youth returning to him. His body felt better than it had in ages. Ease of motion returned to his joints. The round saggy features of his face tightened against his strong jawline. He felt agile.
Coach Balter instantly went back into a heavy duty workout. Pushing himself well past even his prime. Every part of his body felt good. The sweat dripping down and covering his body felt amazing. His muscles moved and lifted weights he’d only ever imagined lifting. Veins pushed out of his skin as his muscles bulged with a long lost power. And then he saw Theo and Austin come back over to him. “What?” he grumbled. It was nice to actually be looking down at the two studs instead of up.
“My phone,” Theo said. “We finished our workout.”
“Hmmm…” Coach Balter thought about it for a second. He did say that. But was wanting to test this little app out more. And he needed these two to join a team. “You two want to walk around campus without a shirt on,” it was a statement, not a question. He watched as Theo and Austin became uncomfortable with the amount of clothing they were wearing.
Austin nodded while Theo gave an angry, “Yes.”
“Then join one of the sports teams. Don’t care which one. Then you can show off whenever you want,” Coach Balter said.
“Wh-what?” Theo gasped. “Since when?”
“I’ll make it a new rule,” Coach Balter crossed his arms against his chest. “Starting with you two.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Coach Balter confirmed. He dangled the phone under his arm. “What do you say?”
“Sure man. Whatever,” Theo confirmed.
Austin added a, “Whatever team Theo joins, I’ll join too.”
“Perfect,” Coach Balter handed the phone back to the Theo. Theo smiled and started heading to the door mumbling about something. “Oh! Before you go. Send me a copy of that Chronivac app.”
“Wh-at?” Theo turned around but his thumbs were already at work copying the code and pasting it into a message for Coach Balter. He hit send.
Coach Balter opened it up. “Perfect. Now delete it from your phone.” He watched Theo struggle. His fingers were doing everything in their power but couldn’t quite stop themselves from dragging the source code, dropping it in the recycle bin and then emptying that out as well. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Have a good night.”
------------
more stories over on my wordpress 
391 notes · View notes
homoose · 4 years ago
Text
Through the Smoke
Tumblr media
Request: could you do spencer x bau reader where they aren't dating yet but they both feel for each other? where both spencer and reader are very closed off people and the whole team knows that. but after one rough case on the flight back, they're both just exhausted mentally and physically and seek comfort in each other. then spend the night at reader's apartment and kiss for the first time there. sorry if this is specific but thank you (:
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: angst with a happy ending
Warnings/Includes: typical CM stuff, cults, kidnapping, violence, etc.
Word count: 8.1k
Music recs: Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge and Margot Todd; scared by Jeremy Zucker
a/n: anon, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for, but this is where it went. It’s a generous rewrite of 300, substituting the reader for Garcia. Also this blog operates with the understanding that the season 14 jeid arc does not exist lmao. JJ is firmly in the “I love you as a brother” camp and I will not be taking questions at this time. Also, this is a reminder that my requests are open! send me some fresh ideas, head cannons, rambles, whatever! 
———
“Metro PD and the Bureau have been made aware of the Believers and possible activity following their leader’s arrest,” Prentiss confirmed, looking out over the team mingling in the bullpen. “But taking Theo at his word—”
“We only arrested three. There’s probably more out there, but if they follow cult dynamics, they’ll break down on their own without the messiah,” Matt finished.
“Typical cults: you think it’s a cast of thousands when really it’s just four whackos sitting around in the dark,” Tara mused.
Prentiss smiled. “I think we deserve some decompression time, and Rossi’s kind enough to host.”
Rossi leaned over the railing and nodded. “And I have some top shelf wine picked just for the occasion.”
The team started gathering their belongings and heading towards the elevators. Y/N hesitated, looking toward the case file still sitting on her desk. Something about how this had all wrapped up just… didn’t sit right. Her nearly five years with the Critical Incident Response Group had given her an up close view of some of the most prolific cults in American history. She’d studied Jonestown, Waco, Ruby Ridge, Liberty Ranch; new cults emerged onto CIRG’s radar regularly. And there was something about The Believers that just didn’t add up.
Y/N began shuffling things around on her desk, trying to look busy. She caught Spencer and JJ out of the corner of her eye, talking quietly. They ended their conversation with a hug, lingering just a little longer than Y/N would have preferred. She shook her head to try to physically clear the thought from her brain. She knew that Spencer had been through a lifetime’s worth of trauma before she joined the team, and that JJ had been an integral support for him. Y/N was also aware that she had zero grounds to be concerned with any of Spencer’s relationships, romantic or otherwise.
“Y/N, you coming?” JJ asked, walking toward her desk. Spencer headed out of the bullpen and down the hall.
Y/N gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just wanted to finish up a couple things here.”
“Well, don’t stay too late.” JJ pressed her lips together for a moment before adding, “Maybe you and Spence could drive together. He said he might not make it, but if he had some company...”
Y/N hoped her immediate flush wasn’t too obvious. After nearly a year in the unit, she finally felt like she had built some solid relationships with the team, and Spencer was no exception. She relished their card games on the jet, the laughs over too-sweet coffee, discussions about books and films and music. But she also adored the way his hair sometimes curled and fell into his eyes, his animated and rambling tangents, the way his hands traced over the tiny print of his books. Most of her adult life had been spent surrounded by men who would gather up her trust in their pitted hands and crush it on a whim. She’d kept her heart behind glass for a long while, but Spencer was slowly chipping away at the fragile panels. She was certain he had no idea that he was even holding the chisel; but just about everyone else seemed to have figured it out. JJ, with her hands clasped together and an eager smile, definitely had. Y/N smiled, too. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“So we’ll see you in a bit?” When Y/N nodded, JJ gave her a warm smile and headed out.
Turning back to the case file, Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple and looked over the documents. Some of the pieces fit together, but the whole case felt littered with gaps and holes. The tale that Theo had woven about The Believers seemed true enough— his parents were simply the suppliers of potential cult members. Although, she still couldn’t figure out the reason for the kidnapping and torture. There were much easier ways to recruit vulnerable people.
She flipped past the pages of written statements and read over the report from the warehouse raid. It was short— the take down of Merva was too easy. Why was he sitting alone in an empty warehouse with only two unarmed, sleeping followers as a defense? Where was the rest of the cult? Matt was correct that most cults fall apart without their leader; unless the loss of a leader was a possibility they’d already prepared for.
The burns on Quinn’s hands didn’t make sense, either. Why use the initiation ritual as a torture device? Shouldn’t that be saved for people who had accepted the invitation? And then there was the one coincidence that nagged at her the most: what were the chances that Theo just happened to be enrolled in Spencer's course? Why did Spencer seem to be at the center of the whole thing?
Y/N sighed as her phone lit up with a message from JJ. She realized she’d been poring over the file for twenty-five minutes, and she had to laugh. As the least experienced profiler on the team, what could she possibly see that the others hadn’t? She closed the case file and quickly packed up, grabbing her jacket and bag and making her way toward the elevator lobby. She paused at the glass doors, retrieving her phone and pulling up Spencer’s contact information. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment before she huffed out a breath. If even JJ hadn’t been able to convince him to go, there was no way she’d be able to change his mind. Despite herself, she glanced down the hall, allowing herself one moment to imagine an alternate timeline where she asked him to come along with her— to Rossi’s, to the moon, anywhere.
With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the glass doors and saw Agent Meadows leading Quinn to the elevator. She pushed down the little red flag in the back of her mind. As she stepped onto the elevator, she smiled politely at the two agents.
“I knew you didn’t do it. I just knew,” Meadows said to Quinn. She turned to Y/N. “And I can’t tell you what a privilege it’s been working with the A-Team on this case.”
Something about the calm in her voice made Y/N uneasy. “Yeah, it’s— um. It’s a great team to be a part of.” Her phone lit up again, this time with a phone call from JJ. “Okay, okay,” she muttered under her breath. Y/N answered the call, half an ear still listening to Meadows speak to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just leaving now.”
“Are you still at the BAU?” JJ demanded, voice low.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I’m in the elevator,” Y/N answered.
“Listen, we’re pretty sure Quinn was converted,” JJ told her. Y/N’s heart dropped into her shoes. “I need you to make sure he doesn’t leave that building. We’re coming back now. Where’s Spence?”
Y/N took a breath to try to even out her voice before speaking again. “Mom, we already talked about this. I don’t know.”
JJ paused. “Is Quinn in the elevator with you?”
“Yep.” JJ spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone. Y/N watched as the elevator dinged to the floor of the parking garage. “I’m going to have to hang up, mom. I’m gonna lose you, but I’ll try to take care of it tonight, okay?”
“Y/N, we’re on our—” The call dropped as the elevator hit the basement level.
Y/N took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Ugh, lost her.” She glanced at Meadows and Quinn, forced a smile and shrugged. “Elevators, right?”
The elevator doors began to open and Y/N stepped out, surreptitiously reaching for her holster. She had just lifted the strap when she heard the crack of metal hitting bone. Her face hit the concrete before she realized it was her own skull that bore the impact. She watched as her gun skidded across the parking lot floor, the taste of iron flooding her mouth. “Fuck,” she muttered, wincing in pain and scrambling up off the ground as a gunshot went off.
She didn’t feel the impact of the bullet. She looked down at her body, expecting to see a blooming rose of blood. She stared dumbly for a second too long, before remembering that she needed to get to her gun. Her hand instinctively went to her nose as she stumbled forward, coming away wet with blood.
“Stop, Agent Y/L/N.”
She heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then another. She closed her eyes and ran through an internal stream of curses. Raising her hands up, she turned slowly around. An older white man stood to her left, his gun trained on her. Meadows walked slowly towards her, lowering her own weapon. Quinn leaned against the back of the elevator, clutching his abdomen and blood staining the front of his shirt.
“Surprise,” Meadows sang, a sick smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Y/N, sweeping her hand in the direction of the man. “Now, John’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.”
Y/N glanced in the direction of the vehicle, a dark sedan, driver armed to the teeth as well. “The team knows something’s up. You won’t make it out of this garage alive.”
Meadows laughed, loud and unhinged. “Oh honey. They’re not looking for lil ol’ me. And they sure as hell won’t be looking for an ambulance.” Her smile returned. “Plus, I already erased 299 murders from the Bureau’s radar. What’s a couple more? Now, shut up... and get in the car.”
Y/N moved to the open car door, keeping her back as straight as possible and her chin up, refusing to show them any cowardice. The barrel of the gun jabbed her in the back as she lowered herself into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, and in a moment, the gun was back on her, the man sitting next to her in the backseat. Y/N waited for the car to pull out, still trying to make sense of it all. Meadows was a Believer? What did she mean by “erased” 299 murders? Why would she blow her cover to shoot Quinn? Did she think that he had figured her out? Or that Y/N had? If that was the case, why not just shoot her? Why wasn’t the car moving?
“Drop your gun, Agent Reid,” Meadows’ muffled voice penetrated the inside of the vehicle. Y/N’s heart began to race. John dug the gun further into her side.
“It’s been you the whole time,” Spencer deduced.
“Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him,” Meadows mocked. “But he can’t give me what I want. And you can.”
“What’s that?” Y/N’s brain scrambled to put the pieces together as she listened to the exchange. Spencer was at the heart of it after all. It was right there, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Meadows continued, “You and I are going to go upstairs and free my Messiah.”
“You’re in the heart of the FBI. As soon as the rest of my team figures out it’s you, you’ll be dead before you’re out the door.” Y/N hoped to god that he was right.
“Then we need to work quickly.”
“I’m not going to cooperate with you,” Spencer told her. “Might as well shoot me.” Y/N didn’t even have time to panic before the car shifted into drive.
“I have a better idea.” On Meadows’ cue, the driver squealed out of the parking space and into Spencer’s line of sight. His eyes fell on Y/N, hands nearly pressed against the window, John’s gun pointed at her head. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Because you can either join us, or she dies.”
Y/N tried to radiate her rage through her eyes and screamed, “Reid, just shoot her! Shoot her!” The last thing she saw before the second crack of steel against her skull was the hesitation in Spencer’s eyes.
⧭⧭⧭
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the pounding of her head, the rhythm of her heartbeat throbbing in the space behind her ears. She tried to lift her hand to check for blood, only to strain against the hold of a zip tie attached to the base of the chair. Instead, she surveyed the room around her. A warehouse, lots of shipping containers, and even more men— this time armed with assault rifles and machine guns. One stood at the entrance point of the small area she was being kept in.
She worked through her memory, putting the pieces together. Meadows was a Believer, had been for quite some time to pull all of this off. Quinn wasn’t special, he just got in the way of her real target. Ben Merva might have been the messiah, but Spencer Reid was clearly just as important to whatever mission they were carrying out. Every twisting thread of information somehow traced back to him: Theo in his class, Quinn’s attachment to him, Meadows’ demand that he be the one to free Merva.
“Good, you’re awake.” Meadows strode through the space with a laptop in hand. “I need your handiwork.”
Y/N stared at her. “Is that so?’
Meadows set the laptop on the barrel in front of Y/N and then leaned down to cut the zip tie. “Besides being my collateral for the good doctor, you’re also going to help me access CIRG’s surveillance data.”
“Fuck you.” Y/N spat on Meadows’ shoes. “I’m doing nothing for you.” Her head rolled back, eyes piercing daggers into Meadows. “You should just kill me now, because this is a waste of your time. And I’m sure you know the A-Team isn’t going to waste theirs.”
Meadows narrowed her eyes and gave a theatrical sigh. “I should’ve known you’d make this difficult.” She nodded to John, standing at the entranceway.
Y/N spat again, this time to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. She steeled herself for the next onslaught, compartmentalizing every emotion outside of her fury. Her mind raced to salvage and scrutinize the memories from her time in CIRG, trying desperately to identify what Meadows could be looking for in the surveillance reports. The Believers hadn’t even been on the Bureau’s radar. The reason had to be linked to their interest in Spencer… a piece of information that involved both Spencer Reid and the existing surveillance data. A single grain that could bring the whole damn bushel down.
She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the room and raised her head. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Spencer, bloodied and bruised. John dragged him into the room, throwing him down onto his knees in front of Y/N. His eyes tracked over her face and clouded over with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.
“Shit, Reid—”
“I’m fine—I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” he murmured. The concern in his eyes told Y/N she looked about as bad as she felt. “Are you all right?”
“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known—”
“No,” Spencer interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. We all missed it.”
“What’s the end game here?” Y/N asked. “What’re they doing?”
“I’m going to be their last victim.” Spencer shook his head, barely able to keep himself upright. “I don’t know why, but I overheard them. There have been hundreds.”
Meadows stepped up behind Spencer, grinning at Y/N. “Have you changed your mind? I sure hope you have.” She raised her gun to his head. “Because if you don’t do what I want, I’ll blow his big, beautiful brains out.”
Spencer locked eyes with Y/N. She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly as the gears started turning. The tie between Spencer and Benjamin was where it all unraveled. “No, I don’t think you will.”
Meadows’ grin faltered for less than a second, but it was long enough that Y/N knew she was right. “Is that right?” Meadows questioned.
“Yeah, it is.” She furrowed her brow, and Spencer looked at her. “You need him, don’t you? Alive.” Meadows’ tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Y/N was sure. “Because this isn’t just about Benjamin Merva. It’s about Benjamin Cyrus. It’s about Liberty Ranch.”
Meadows held her gaze for five seconds, then ten seconds. Y/N raised her chin, refusing to be the one to blink first. Meadows shifted the trajectory of her gun a foot to her right and fired off one shot. The breeze from the bullet shifted Y/N’s hair.
“You have two minutes to decide,” Meadows advised. The phone in her hand began ringing. “The next one won’t miss.” She answered the phone and stepped out.
Spencer spoke quickly. “Do whatever she’s asking. We have to get you out of here.”
“Reid, are your eyes broken?” Y/N snapped. “There’s a cult loyalist with a machine gun every five feet. You got a plan for that?”
“Listen to me.” His voice was calm, determined. “You’re right about them wanting me alive.”
The frustration bled through Y/N’s voice. “You should have just shot her.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”
“You could’ve shot all three of them and ended this in the garage,” Y/N argued.
“And then I would have watched you die,” he said quietly. “That was never even an option.”
“I’m failing to see how that would have been any worse than this. Look at us.” She gestured wildly between them. She watched as the storm of emotion returned, a cyclone swirling in seas of gold and brown. “The team needs you. Spencer, I—” I need you. She reached a hand up, almost touching his face before dropping it back in her lap. He had found the chink in her carefully constructed armor; a fissure he’d fractured a little further with every smile, every look, every moment. All at once she knew she’d never be able to keep him out, no matter how much it might hurt.
��You’ve got one minute,” Meadows barked, hovering over them.
“Y/L/N, listen to me… Please...” Spencer’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell my mom—” The phone rang again, and Meadows stepped away to answer it. Spencer dropped to a whisper. His eyes flashed with urgency. “They’re taking me and Theo. We’ll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We’re 18 minutes from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, take a right at the light, you’ll recognize the rest. They stay off the highways.”
Y/N’s voice was frantic when she asked, “What about you?”
His eyes pleaded with her to respect what he was asking her to do. “I’ll delay them. Get the rest of the team back here. And do not worry about me.” John hauled up him off the floor.
“Time’s up.” Meadows, in a rare display of mercy, allowed them a hug.
Spencer leaned into her and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She squeezed as hard as she could and whispered his name. She felt him take a deep breath into her hair, holding it for one impossibly long moment. Just before she released her hold on him, he mumbled, “It’s all happening. 10:23.” John dragged him back out the way they’d came.
“I gave you what you wanted.” Meadows ordered, “Get to it. Now.”
⧭⧭⧭
Y/N worked and waited, then watched and worried. Spencer spoke to Meadows. He was stalling her, offering a deal, boosting her ego, granting Y/N the opportunity to mentally prepare. But no matter how much time he gave her, she would never be prepared to leave him in that warehouse. He met her eyes across the movements of the operation and gave her an imperceptible nod before lunging forward to reach for John’s gun.
Chaos exploded throughout the warehouse. Theo ran in one direction, accosted by half a dozen Believers. Spencer and John tussled over the gun, one fighting for control and the other fighting the inevitable. Y/N sprinted, largely unnoticed, toward the huge sliding doors left slightly ajar. Bursting out into the night air, she immediately spotted one of the black sedans, unbelievably unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. She slammed the door behind her, turned the key, hesitated with her eyes on the door and her mind on Spencer for one moment too long. A single gunshot sounded from inside the warehouse.
Meadows raced out of the doorway, gun drawn. “Stop!” She pointed her gun at Y/N and there was nothing to do but step on the gas. Y/N had her eyes wide open as Meadows bounced off the windshield and onto the asphalt. She didn’t look back.
She drove. Left out of the parking lot. Just a dark, rural road—nothing particularly special or descript. She drove. Right at the stoplight. Then it was, just as Spencer said, familiar terrain. She wondered how it was possible to have seemed so far away— a world away— when it was right under their proverbial nose. She drove.
Her brain navigated of its own volition. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from the inside of the vehicle. She didn’t realize she’d arrived at the Bureau until she was attempting to pull into her usual parking spot, only to be met with her own abandoned car.
She turned the car off, left the keys in the ignition, and nearly floated out into the garage; up the elevator; across the cold floors of the lobby. Her body had walked this same path so many times before; it carried her without hesitation. She could hear the voices of the team, drifting through the open glass doors.
“She accepted their help knowing she would betray the government,” Tara deduced.
“Not every survivor wanted help,” JJ clarified.
Rossi continued, “We ran those who left the ranch and kept their names. A few relocated in rural Maryland and Virginia.”
“They could be helping now,” Luke suggested. “Any of them have large pieces of property?”
“A few,” Emily confirmed. Y/N turned the corner as she continued, “The Washington field office has started searches in Maryland. We’ll take the lead in Virginia.”
As she moved into the doorway, JJ’s eyes went wide and she rushed to Y/N’s side. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” She gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders.
“It’s a warehouse in Hillcrest,” Y/N said flatly, eyes unfocused. “I can take you there, but we have to hurry. They hurt Reid; he looked— bad. He told me to r-run and take the car, but he’s still there.” Everyone headed for the doors except JJ and Garcia. “They won’t be there long, they have lots of trucks.” Y/N’s eyes locked on JJ, and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, she allowed herself to splinter, just a little. “I heard a gunshot. JJ, I heard a gunshot. I tried—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” JJ nodded, drawing her into a hug. “I know. I know you tr—”
“I left him there.” Her voice broke, but she couldn’t cry. Not yet. “I couldn’t get him. There was no way to save hi—”
“Stop,” JJ ordered, pulling out of the hug. “Y/N, look at me. You got out, you got back to us. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even know about the warehouse.”
“What if— what if I got him killed?” Y/N asked.
“You didn’t get anyone killed. Spence knew what he was doing.” JJ’s voice softened. “That’s what he does. He always figures things out before the rest of us. He has a plan and getting you back to Quantico was part of it.” She raised her eyebrows, making sure Y/N was listening. “And now we have to help him by putting the rest of it together.”
Y/N ran a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”
Garcia stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get Reid back.”
They cleaned the blood from her face and hair as best they could in the bathroom sink. JJ patched up the lacerations with steri-strips. Back in the conference room, Garcia insisted she should get screened for a concussion as Y/N rubbed the knot on the back of her head. “There’s no time. Reid said, ‘It’s all happening. 10:23.’”
“But it’s past that,” JJ considered.
“So what did he mean?” Garcia asked.
“Could be a clue here.” Rossi's voice came over the speakerphone from inside the warehouse. “They got sloppy since they left in a hurry.”
“Okay, well you can’t be that far behind them,” JJ insisted.
“I know,” Emily agreed. “But there’s easy access to three major highways, and we don’t know which way they went.”
“Right, but they’re in tractor trailers. That means we can track them through weigh stations.”
“Garcia?” Emily prompted.
“In order to do that, I’d need the transponder identification numbers,” Garcia answered.
“Which we have no way of knowing,” Rossi sighed. “Everything they used was almost definitely forged.”
“We’re going to do another sweep here, and then we’ll head back,” Emily said. “Try to map out the most likely routes they’d use to get out of dodge.”
JJ hung up and looked to Y/N. “What do you remember about the warehouse?”
Y/N pressed her fingers into her temples. “It was full of supplies. They were disguising them, but they had stockpiles of weapons and ammunition; non-perishables and other food items; water. Enough to be off the grid for at least a year.” Y/N leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t just about The Believers. I mean, we know they’re a reincarnation of the Separatarian Sect.” She looked at JJ and Garcia. “It was more than that, though. Reid was at the center of everything; he was the target all along. Merva is the messiah, but it somehow all comes back to Spence.”
“Makes sense. They blame him for the downfall of the Sect,” JJ supplied.
“Yeah.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “But—and I can’t—I can’t really explain it, but Meadows really wanted to kill Reid right then. She was— she was irritated, more than anything else.”
“So what stopped her?” Garcia asked.
“That’s what I can’t figure out. She threatened me with it, with ‘blowing his brains out,’ but I— called her bluff. And she was pissed.” Y/N rapped her knuckles on the table. “I mean, really, really furious. Which tells me that, even though she wanted to,  she couldn’t kill him.” She looked between the two of them. “Merva was pulling the strings, and he wouldn’t let her do it there.”
“So it matters where the final sacrifice takes place,” JJ concluded. “We’ve got to figure out where they’re going.”
⧭⧭⧭
They’d been rehashing the details over and over. Liberty Ranch, The Strangler investigation, The Believers, Meadows, Merva, Cyrus, 300 victims, the hyoid bones, all of it. About the only thing they knew for sure was how far the cult could get in the trucks. Spencer could have told them the exact square mileage, but the potential geographical range of the trucks was dauntingly large. Y/N tried not to panic as she stared at the map.
“If this is about a Believer's rebirth, babies are born with 300 bones,” JJ said. “And they’re taking the hyoids.”
“And the hyoids we had in evidence are missing, which means Merva needed them back,” Tara reasoned. “And that means they mean more to the end game than we thought.”
Y/N felt her patience waning. “But why did Reid need us to know it all happens at 10:23?” Y/N hated that her voice sounded snappy and desperate. “That’s got to be important. It’s the last thing he said to me.”
Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re right. It means something to him. We’re trying to figure it out.”
“Yeah, well, we better figure it out soon.” Y/N shrugged off his hand, pushed back from her seat at the conference room table, and turned for the door. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every minute they spent floating ideas was another mile between them and Spencer. Another moment closer to losing him. She shoved the bathroom door open, hurrying into the stall and emptying the contents of her stomach.
She slumped back against the side of the stall, head gently knocking into the cool metal. She needed to pull herself together. The team was always strongest when they did their group think sessions, building upon each other’s knowledge and perspectives and filling in the gaps. If they’d done more of that earlier— if she’d had the confidence to call it out as soon as she saw the holes, Spencer might not be locked in the back of a truck, hundreds of miles away.
Y/N hoisted herself off the ground and out of the stall. She braced her hands on the counter top and tried to breathe evenly. She turned on the water and splashed her face, tapping against her cheeks. With water dripping down the planes of her face, she stared herself down in the mirror, willing her tired brain to make that last connection, to find that missing thread. It was all about the Benjamins, and she had a feeling that Cyrus was the key.
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and made her way to the conference room. She listened to their rotating conversation, knowing that this team was the only group of people capable of getting Spencer back alive.
“We have confirmation that there’s been no activity in or around the old ranch,” Matt informed them, pocketing his phone.
“If this is about rebirth, they’ll choose a new place,” Luke posited, arms crossed.
Tara leaned over the table. “Given their adoration of Cyrus and his love for the country, he’d want them to stay within our borders.”
“But Benjamin Cyrus wasn’t his real name, and he wasn’t born into the Sect,” Y/N reminded them quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She gave an apology grimace to Matt. He just shrugged and smiled, motioning her over to the table.
Garcia nodded. “Right, let’s see. Uh, he and his mom arrived there when he was a teenager. He was kicked out for molesting girls. And then he served time in prison in Kentucky.”
“And that’s where he found religion,” Y/N recalled, thinking back to the report she’d studied dozens of times. “So he was reborn as Benjamin Cyrus in Kentucky.” She closed her eyes and flipped through her mental file cabinet, looking for 10:23.
“That’s within the area,” Garcia confirmed. “Maybe that’s where they’re headed?”
“Find out what city he was born in or where he was in prison,” Luke said. “We’ll spread out from there.”
“He found religion,” Y/N repeated, mostly to herself. “Chapter ten, verse twenty-three. 10:23 isn’t a time.” Y/N shook her head and then dragged her hand through her hair. “It’s scripture.”
“Let’s get in the air; we can narrow down which verse and city before we land,” Emily instructed.
⧭⧭⧭
“We’re approaching Kentucky; the pilot needs to know where to touch down,” Rossi informed them.
The team was scattered throughout the jet, scrolling through scripture on their tablets, reading out verses. Y/N held her chin in her hand, eyes unfocused, dragging a net along the furthest corners of her mind.
“Hey guys, listen to this,” JJ said. “Matthew chapter ten, verse twenty-three: ‘When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.’”
“They’re going to the next town,” Emily said.
“Flee to the next town. But which one?” asked Garcia.
“Their end game is also a new beginning,” Rossi explained. “Cyrus brought religion back to the cult. They’d honor that by wanting to start fresh.”
Y/N raised her head. “Like the Garden of Eden.”
“That’s how 300 fits,” Tara concluded. “That was the number of angels that protected the Garden of Eden. Are there any Edens in Kentucky?”
The sound of Garcia tapping across the keyboard came through the laptop. “Um, no, but there are two synonyms: Canaan and Arcadia.”
“Cyrus is the original messiah. Which one is closer to where he was born?” Y/N asked.
“Arcadia,” Garcia informed them.
Y/N stood up. “That’s where they’re going.”
“Garcia, pull land deeds. I’ll notify SWAT,” Emily instructed.
JJ grabbed Y/N’s hand. “We’re going to get him.”
Y/N met her eyes. “I just hope we’re not too late.”
⧭⧭⧭
The new compound proved easy to find. In the middle of nowhere but illuminated by hundreds of lights, there were rows and rows of tents. The team began strategizing, looking for the best route to Spencer.
Emily tried to convince Y/N, now showing clear concussion symptoms, to stay with the SUVs.
“With all due respect, there is no way in hell that I’m going to sit in this car while Reid gets sacrificed by a homicidal cult leader,” Y/N said. There was a hushed pause, the team exchanging knowing glances.
“Fair enough,” Emily conceded. “Matt and JJ, I want you on the left side. Luke and Tara, the right. Dave and Y/N, you’re with me. We’re clearing every tent; eliminate any threat that would give away your position.” She unholstered her gun and swept her eyes across the team. “Our objective is to extract Reid with minimal loss.”
As they approached the first line of tents, Y/N could faintly hear Spencer speaking. “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “A time to be born and a time to die.” She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. “A time to weep and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.”
“Okay, he’s stalling,” Meadows snapped. “That’s enough!”
“All right. Let the sacrifice begin.” That was Merva now, riling up the followers. “Protect us from all harm.”
As Merva led The Believers in a monotone chant, Y/N tried to block it out. She scanned a tent, watched as SWAT took out a bodyguard, looked for Spencer. Rinse and repeat, again and again. It was taking too long.
“And we thank Our Guardian, who will protect this family now and always,” Merva’s voice rang out. “Spencer: keeper of provisions!” Y/N saw the gathering of followers, but she couldn’t see Spencer.
The SWAT commander stopped them. They had reached the final line of tents. He signaled to the leaders on each side. They were ready to strike.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd. She could just barely make out some sort of hanging mobile, white u-shaped decorations suspended from string. The hyoids, she realized, a wave of nausea hitting her like a truck.
Merva continued, “You have given selflessly to others and will be rewarded by the highest honor we could bestow. Your blood will be our blood. Your life will fuel ours.”
A gunshot rang out. The followers gasped. There was a split second of calm before the bedlam. Y/N took a single breath. Then she heard Matt yell; saw John lift his rifle and be felled by a solo shot to the head; watched Luke take down another bodyguard directly after.
And then she saw him. Strapped down under a canopy of bones, Spencer was silent and unmoving. He didn’t struggle. He didn’t call out. And there was Merva, knife in hand— still trying to complete his mission.
She didn’t vacillate, barely breathed, just let her legs carry her forward. She heard Emily call out his name. When Merva turned, the curved blade of the knife poised at the column of Spencer's throat, Y/N’s trigger finger compressed. She felt the gun recoil, felt the force of the shot travel up her arm as she put a single bullet in his chest. As he fell, she didn’t stop, just stepped over him, knew one of the others would take care of it.
She tripped over the small platform Spencer was restrained on, stumbling and holstering her gun. Her hands moved over the straps, loosening the one over his waist, then the ones at his hands, finally pushing the leather from his head. He panted and muttered his thanks, but she didn’t dare speak, afraid that if she did, she’d never be able to stop. Instead, she flung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down and close and over her heart. She wondered if he could feel the way it pummeled against her chest, because to her it felt like it might smash through at any moment. His arms came around her, chin resting on her shoulder, nose in her hair. She heard him inhale and hold his breath, a mirror of that last moment together in the warehouse. She held onto him as an overboard sailor holds a life ring: single-minded, unrelenting, desperate.
There was a touch on her opposite shoulder and Y/N swung around, adrenaline still racing through her veins. JJ put her hand out in a placating motion, and Y/N came back to herself, allowing JJ to step forward and help Spencer off the platform. Y/N let out a breath and reached a hand out to steady herself, only to flinch when it brushed one of the straps that had held Spencer down. Luke caught her on one side, Tara on the other. She grasped at them, her emotions teetering right along with her physical form. Luke pulled her out from under the macabre canopy and into a hug. Tara held her hand. For the first time since the parking garage, she let herself go.
⧭⧭⧭
The jet was quiet. The team was spread out around the cabin, each of them lost in their own heads. There was a tranquility over the space, one that only ever happened when unmitigated relief overwhelmed even the joy or fulfillment of a life saved.
Y/N sat in one of the single seats, across the aisle from where Spencer was settled. Tara and Luke had finally convinced her to get checked out by the EMTs, who had confirmed her concussion. She convinced herself that the fuzziness on the corners of her vision was just a symptom of that, not a product of the tears she was struggling to hold back.  
The team each stopped by Spencer’s seat, patting his shoulder, squeezing his hand, or in Rossi’s case, gently ruffling his hair. They all spoke briefly in hushed, grateful tones. All except Y/N. She couldn’t formulate a sentence that seemed adequate. There was simultaneously too much and nothing to say. Everything felt contrived or insufficient or intemperate.
Spencer was safe. They hadn’t been too late. He was bruised and undoubtedly sore, but ultimately, he’d been through worse. So why was her heart still aching? Why couldn’t she catch her breath? She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since leaving the raid, so why did her throat feel like it was on fire? She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. She incessantly pressed her hands together, trying to crack her sore knuckles over and over again.
A pair of hands gently closed over her own, stopping the abuse, and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know who they belonged to. His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands and she cursed the tears that spilled over her bottom lashes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t force her to look at him or acknowledge her shattering. He waited her out, rubbing a rhythm on her skin and steadying her without a word. She opened her eyes but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Instead she focused on their joined hands, reciprocating the gentle pulses he gave every so often.
She turned her head to wipe her wet cheeks on her shoulder as the landing announcement came over the cabin speaker. She did look at him then, and the emotion in his gaze left her feeling raw and exposed. Their hands reluctantly separated to buckle their seat belts. Y/N closed her eyes again, turning her face into the warmth of the early morning sun as the jet began its descent.
When they landed, everyone wearily shuffled off the plane, eager to get home to their beds. Penelope met them at the elevator, enveloping Spencer in a long hug, the rest of the team smiling at their embrace. They each moved through the bullpen, gathering their things and talking quietly. Y/N’s eyes paused on her bag, brought up from the parking garage by one of the team after she’d gone missing. They lingered for a long moment on the case file, still sitting where she’d left it hours ago, before she let herself let it go. She grabbed her bag and turned to see Spencer standing in the aisle, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.
“Hey,” she said dumbly.
He smiled. “Hi.”
Her hands wrung the straps of her bag. “How—how’re you holding up?”
“I’ve been worse.” He shrugged. “How’s your head?”
“I’ve been worse,” she agreed.
“That’s good. Because I think after all that, the least you could do is give me a ride home,” he joked.
Y/N knew he was trying to reassure her that he was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. If anything, his attempts to provide comfort made her feel worse. Because she couldn’t forget the sound of the gunshot at the warehouse, the sight of the knife at his throat, the feeling of nearly losing someone whom she knew she could love if she just had more time. Too exhausted to hide her emotions, she could tell by the change in Spencer’s eyes that the pain was apparent on her face.
“Actually, you probably shouldn’t be driving, even if it’s just a mild concussion. Where are your keys?”
“It’s fine. I’m all ri—” Y/N started.
“I know I phrased that as a question, but I’m not really asking.” He held out his hand.
Normally she would have argued, but she just didn’t have the energy. Y/N dug into her bag, fishing out the keys and dropping them into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and jerked his head toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured. He waved to the rest of the team, and Y/N nodded, avoiding their eyes.
The ride in the elevator was silent. The walk to the car, too. They were pulling out of the garage before Spencer finally broke the silence.
“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked. Y/N stayed quiet. “We all missed the connection to Liberty Ranch.”
“But I knew something was off, and I didn’t say anything. I— I almost came to find you before I left, and if I had just done that—”
“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted. “The plan was already in motion. Meadows and Merva would have just figured out another way to execute it.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And without you and the leads from the warehouse, the team might not have figured it out in time.”
Y/N opened her mouth before realizing she didn’t have a response. She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. She leaned her head against the window, pressing the thumb and fingers of one hand into her eyes to stave off the throbbing.
Graciously, Spencer let her remain in silence the rest of the ride to her apartment. There was so much to say, especially now; she didn’t know where to begin. And even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from bringing up that wall— protecting herself from what she knew could hurt her more than any unsub.
They pulled onto her street, fairly empty at such an early hour. Spencer parked in front of her apartment, opening the car door and coming around the other side of the car. She expected him to give her the keys, but as she exited the car, he waited by the gate for her. “I’ll walk you up.”
Spencer opened the gate, allowing her to walk through before closing it behind them and following her up the sidewalk. “I need the keys,” she told him.
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Right, right.” He placed them into her outstretched hand, and she wondered if she imagined his fingers lingering over hers.
When they reached her door, she unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, stepping over the threshold. He waited outside, hands in his pockets. Y/N rolled her keys in her hand, and Spencer watched them.
“Um— thank you for—” Y/N started.
“I told Emily on the jet, and I’ll tell you now.” Spencer raised his eyes to meet hers. There was that look again, the one she couldn’t quite identify. “I’ve always had a hard time saying what I feel. And maybe sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being disappointed. But sometimes it’s because the words I’m looking for don’t exist in the English language.”
“Spence—”
“Please just let me get this out,” he said. “There have been a couple moments over the past few months where I thought maybe we were sharing mamihlapinatapei.”
“Mamih what?” Y/N asked.
“Mamihlapinatapei.” He repeated, gesturing with his hands. “It’s a Yagan word that originates on the Tierra del Fuego archipelago off the southern tip of Argentina. It translates succinctly as ‘the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.’”
“Oh.” Y/N felt a flush rising up in her cheeks.
Suddenly, Spencer couldn’t meet her eyes. “I, um—I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship or make things awkward at work. But last night, I… I just— I’ve had too many moments in my life where I thought it might be my last, and I hadn’t said all the things I needed to say.” He met her eyes again, and there was that familiar storm. “Last night I was out of time, and I hadn’t told you how I feel, and I realized that I wouldn’t get another chance, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to—”
Y/N stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed their mouths together. She tried to pour everything into the kiss: every blush, every worry, every laugh, every panicked moment, every mamihlapinatapei. Spencer cradled her face in his hands, opening his mouth and capturing her bottom lip, accepting everything she gave him. She wound one of her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and grounding herself to this new reality that almost wasn’t. The height of the kiss tapered off, and Y/N drew back, untangling her fingers from his hair and her heart from his grasp. Spencer watched her carefully, honey eyes uncertain.
“I do. Feel the same,” Y/N confirmed. Spencer’s lips twitched. “I’m not good at vulnerability. I’ve got a great track record of getting hurt.” Spencer grabbed her hand and opened his mouth, but Y/N continued, “But then I thought we might lose you, that time was out, and that I— I wouldn’t get the chance to see if you could be— if this could be more.” She gestured between them and then met his eyes again. “And I guess being vulnerable isn’t so bad in comparison. Because I think I could fall in love with you. I think maybe it’s already happening.” She held her breath and pressed her lips together, fighting the regret of saying too much.  
“Actually, there’s a word for that, too.” Spencer smiled, warm and soft and genuine. “Forelsket. The origin is Norwegian, and it roughly translates to ‘the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.’”
“Forelsket?” Y/N asked.
“Well, it’s more like forelsket,” Spencer corrected.
“Wow, okay, 187.” Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “Forelsket.”
“Better,” Spencer praised. “There’s also the Tagalog version, kilig.”
Y/N took a step closer to him and smoothed his shirt where her hands had wrinkled it. “Translation?”
“‘The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic happens,’ or alternatively ‘the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.’” Spencer moved his hand to her waist and stepped over the threshold.
Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, soothing the bruises and guiding him back to her. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”
819 notes · View notes
sluttynaughtyjock · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Hey guys! So, after a long hiatus, I feel like I’m finally getting my mojo back again, so here is a new story I have been brewing in my head for a while. I’m not sure if this writing phase will last but I plan on keep giving you new chapters or maybe captions for as long as I can. I really hope you enjoy this new story and I’m anxious to know what you guys think, so please don’t forget to comment!
Like always, I would like to dedicate this to @daddysperfectjock, @dumbhornyjock, @manipulativebottom, @skywindsword and @milkinmycoffee1. You guys are the reason I do this! Thanks for everything!
Also, let’s celebrate @daddysperfectjock and @manipulativebottom long anticipated comeback... I’ve missed you guys, let’s show those dumb studs how it’s done!
As usual, this story will also be published at Nifty shortly.
Enjoy!
***
Dumb Jock Roommate
I knew I would probably get fucked in college, but I was not expecting it would be quite like this. Let me tell you how the whole thing started...
I had been setting up in my room for the last couple of hours, putting up some posters and photos on my side of the walls, organizing my clothes in the tiny wardrobe I would have to share for the next few years and tidying everything up when my roommate showed up. It was something that had taken a lot of space in my mind lately, thinking about my new roommate, this strange guy with which I would be living with from now on, not knowing if we would get along or not, if I would maybe hate him on the spot or worse, if he would maybe hate me.
Turns out that should have been the least of my worries.
I was bending over my bed in the tiny dorm room folding some clothes when I heard a warm, youthful voice yelling, “Hey, roomie!”.
I turned around and looked up to the door, just to see the most strikingly handsome guy I’ve ever seen in my life. He had straight, longish black hair, white skin with the hint of a fading summer tan and big, rosy lips, perfectly kissable, and was very tall, way taller than my medium height. His face was so proportionate and harmonious I bet it followed every mathematical rule of perfection, and his masculine jaw was smooth and sharp, almost as if it would cut my fingers if I touched it. He had green eyes and a youthful face, and he wouldn’t look out of place on a Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue or even, what the hell, a teen girl magazine. He had the looks of a male movie star, but at the same time I recognized the quiet confidence and humility of someone who maybe doesn’t realize how beautiful they really are, or their effect on people, for that matter.
His body, tho, was out of his world. He was only carrying two big suitcases, one in each hand, so I had the perfect view of his big, defined biceps flexing and the sexy flow of exposed veins in his arms. His big arms had an incredible development for someone so young. In fact, his whole body maybe seemed to be directly carved out from stone by an ancient greek god of erotic love.
He was wearing a short sleeved white henley t-shirt that was tight on his muscular pecs, and I could see every detail of his perky, dim-sized nipples and 8 pack abs even from afar. The buttons of his henley were open, showing a sexy expanse of tanned, jockboy chest, and the shirt was so ridiculously tight I bet it would ride up and expose his abdomen with any small movement he did. He wore beige khaki shorts, showcasing two muscular pairs of sexy legs and white sneakers. Just as I was ogling below his belt, I caught notice of what seemed to be a big, fat bulge in his shorts, so pronounced and forward that I couldn’t help but think if this guys had actually shoved a big piece of salami down there.
I didn’t have too much time to think tho, cause as soon as that teen stud had entered the room, he dropped his suitcases and jumped at me, giving me no time to react except for opening up my eyes wild and gasping when he engulfed me with his whole body and tackled me over on my bed, falling on top of me and hugging me by my sides.
“Oh my God dude, it’s so good to finally meet you, you don’t know how long I was waiting for this! I was so crazy about starting college and meeting my new roomie, I’m sure we’re going to be great friends! I’m Jon, what’s your name? I see you already...” he kept talking non stop while his huge body was pressed tight on top of mine, squeezing me with his huge arms every other time. He had nuzzled his face against my neck as he talked, and I went completely numb at the feeling of this sex god on top of me, huge hard body all warm and pumped up with joyful excitement, and I completely lost any sense of myself as he talked on and while pressed so close on top of me.
I couldn’t control myself, so I let myself go and enjoy this nice moment, thinking if college meant getting slammed to a bed within minutes of meeting a hot jock, then sign me the fuck up for it. But then I felt it: the big, fat bulge this jock stud had in those shorts was completely pressed against my right thigh and I could feel everything. Oh God, it’s big, warm and thick, and it feels so real it’s almost as if he isn’t even wearing any underwear. Just one thin piece of fabric between the smooth skin of my thigh and his big tube of meat. And now he’s humping me, oh my God, up and down, up and down and I can feel everything and I’m going to get hard and -
“Okay, big guy, okay, move over, please? You’re gonna suffocate me if you keep this up, come on!” I said, flushed on the cheeks and pressing both of my hands on his muscular chest, immediately impressed by feeling how hard it was and grazing his big, erect nipples faintly with my fingers. Oh God, it feels so good, I wish I could just pinch and suck on those big nipples, and... fuck!
He got up and took me me with him, and now we were face to face, him looking at me adoringly with a cute, goofy grin. He had perfect white teeth that I just wanted to suck on. Okay, who was this guy?
“Hey Jon, I’m Theo, nice to meet you” I said extending my hand to him. “That was quite a reception you threw me here, I don’t remember ever being attacked like this when I met someone before in my life”, I finished, still flushed.
“Oh, dude, I’m so sorry man! That’s just me, my big bro keeps telling me I’m too big to keep invading people’s space like that, but I’m a hugger, and you looked pretty huggable. Like I said, I’m Jon, Jon Fraser, I’m 18, I’m going to play football for the school’s team and I’m your new roommate, so let’s be best friends, yeah? Do you play anything? You look like a jock yourself, you’re pretty fit man!”
With that he didn’t give me anytime to think whatsoever, and he just started touching me on my shoulders, arms and chest, coping a feel of my muscles, as if assessing for himself if I was really a jock or not. His big hands all over my body were too much for me again and he was just so close that I could smell him, and fuck, now I noticed how good he smelled, young and masculine, a clean, citric smell, like sicilian lemons and salt water, so I just stood there and let him do whatever he wanted with me.
Well, if this fucking hot jock wants to touch me, I’m not going to be the one to stop him.
Eventually he stopped, and I figured he had finally put the idea on his head that I was a jock like him (which I was, but my sport was swimming, not football), and kept talking as he went to close the door, pick up his suitcases and start setting up his things, which I found so endearing. He quickly started a conversation, telling me fondly about his family and the farm where they lived, while I told him about my life in New York, where I came from. We had very different backgrounds, but he was easy to talk to, being humble and attentive to my questions and answers. I immediately decided I liked him.
From our conversation, I also figured out that Jon wasn’t really bright, and that he had minimal knowledge of a lot of common knowledge concepts, or even everyday social skills, which explained the way he had greeted me. He had a pretty recluse life in his farm and small rural town, one which was thoroughly centered on sports and athletic performance, which was why he was not only a star football player in his home town but also an accomplished wrestler and a basketball jock. He seemed oblivious about most things and was, frankly, dumb about any subject that wasn’t sports, and seemed as innocent as child. He didn’t mention drinking, girls, parties or sex at any moment of our conversation.
But, like I said, I had decided to like him, if only for his wholesome, kind, goofy nature, and his killer looks, obviously. I was watching from my side of the room his muscles flexing and his big bulge flopping around while he set up his things, sitting on my bed, just enjoying the damm view. This guy definitely wasn’t wearing any underwear.
He had his back to me while he was putting his clothes on our wardrobe, bending over a few times to fold them and to put them on the drawers, and I was transfixed on his big, muscular ass, barely contained on his shorts. When he turned over to grab some more clothes from his suitcases, which were now opened up on his bed, I raised my right hand to my mouth to silence a gasp.
Jon’s bulge was obscenely outlined on his shorts, pressing forward like it wanted to just flop out and greet the world, and it was actually just about to do that, because his zipper had somehow opened fully, and from the opening in his shorts I could see the shadow of a huge, thick and soft cock laying there. His fat prick was so big it went all the way down his thigh, bulging on his shorts, so I couldn’t see his cock head, just his massive length. Jon, apparently oblivious to it, didn’t notice his fly was open and that he was giving me such a thrilling show.
I noticed the solitary button of his shorts had somehow opened as well, so I thought it would be merely a matter of time before the weight of his huge cock just pushed his shorts down and exposed his whole junk to me. The way Jon was excitedly moving around didn’t help it, of course, and I saw his shorts were slowly slipping down on his legs with every movement of his. My theory about his tight henley t-shirt proved correct, and with every jerk of his body the hem of it would ride up on his muscular torso and expose to me a few inches of ripped, sun kissed abs. He had perfect proportion and definition, and his flat stomach was smooth, so there wasn’t any body hair obstructing my view. His shorts were slipping down more with every movement, and now I had a perfect view of his adonis belt and the top of his crotch.
“Fuck”, I thought, and couldn’t help but palm my rapidly hardening dick in my shorts as I saw for the first time his small, trimmed pubes showing over the hem of his shorts, which were now so dangerously close from slipping down completely I held my breath in anticipation.
Jon still didn’t notice anything, not realizing the button and fly of his shorts were opened and that pretty soon he would be naked from the waist down in our room. I tried to keep our conversation as I replied to whatever it was he was talking about, something about hoping the cafeteria would have good food, cause I couldn’t take my eyes off the hot sight in front of me.
I sat there frozen for a few minutes, making conversation with Jon as much as my baked, lust-filled brain allowed. It was incredible how this big, muscle-stud was such a goofball of a guy, never losing his naive excitement over things and talking as if he lived in a pink colored world. God, what a precious boy. I realized I was probably fucked at this point, so sucked in on his innocent personality and good looks. I was as fond of him as I was lusting for his body. My eyes were trained on the slow but sure movements of his slipping shorts, which had now uncovered his whole crotch, exposing his well trimmed bush and the first few inches of the fat monster barely hidden underneath. I wasn’t sure what would happen next, the only thing I knew was that I would be there watching the whole thing.
As Jon was moving back and forth from his bed to the wardrobe, he picked a pair of sneakers from one of his suitcases, ready to put them inside the wardrobe as well, when it all happened, fast and in sequence. I could not have anticipated it when one of his sneakers slipped his fingers and fell down, bouncing two times on itself before landing at the foot of his bed. I didn’t even think about it as I got up from my bed and went on my knees to retrieve it; the need to feel useful and helpful was automatic. I bent over and pushed my arm underneath his bed to catch it, Jon letting a little “Oops, sorry buddy, thanks for that”, and when I moved my arm to give it to him, still on my knees right in front of the teen stud, his shorts finally gave and slipped down completely to his ankles, exposing all of his godly frame to me.
The first thing I noticed was the whipping sound of something thick and huge coming out and flopping in the air, just to then feel it slap me across the face and land there, resting on my nose and lips. I blinked twice in surprise to see that, in fact, Jon’s big fuck stick had just slapped me across the face and it was just there, in front of me, warm, hot and heavy.
Fuck! The thing had to be at least 6 or 7 inches soft, cut and fat, with a big, pink cock head completely pressed against my shock opened lips. The second thing I noticed was Jon’s inebriating smell, as clean, pure and wholesome as him, but with an undercurrent of musk and sexual pheromones that travelled straight into my brain and just froze me. I was shaking with lust, my head was foggy and I couldn’t remember how to think or function properly in that moment. I opened my lips more to talk but I didn’t know what to say, so my tongue slipped out uselessly and swapped a taste of Jon’s meaty cock head, bringing it back to my mouth the taste of the most delicious boy I had ever seen or imagined in my life. Below his huge cock were a pair of equally impressive and smooth balls. Fuck me, the kid was made for sex. He looked like a proper porn star, all exposed like this, just for me.
With his shorts at his ankles, Jon’s movements were restricted, so he didn’t move. He stayed right there with his big dick pressed completely against my face and looking down at me on my knees, like a slut, eyes popped open in shock and looking back at him myself. He had a surprised look on his face about what happened but he seemed absolutely naive about any implications of the situation we were in, given the fact he did not do anything to take his dick out of my face. He chuckled.
“Ooh, shit, dude! I’m so sorry! I never meant to put my dick in your face, it’s just those fucking shorts, man, ever since I bulked up senior year my clothes got so tight that my pants always seems to be popping buttons and flyers these days, making me naked! I swear, it’s such a bummer! And back there in the farm we never had much money for new clothes, I was always getting hand me downs from my big bro, so this happens a lot, shit, so inconvenient! Anyway, meet Jonny, say hi to your new friend” as he said it kiddingly, his hips pushed forward a little, pressing his massive dick even harder against my face, and then I noticed he didn’t even do it on purpose, he was just retrieving the sneaker from my hand. His cock pushed up on my face until it touched my forehead and then got down again, smacking me one more time in the lips and leaving a subtle trail of precum on my face. Fuck, was his dick getting hard?
“Hum... It’s, hum... glurph, it’s okay, bro, just an, ah! Accident” I tried to mumble while in between his legs, enjoying being pressed against his crotch and inhaling as much of his sweet jock boy scent as I could.
“Dude, I can’t even walk with my shorts down my ankles like this. Say, since you’re already on your knees, can you give me a hand and push my shorts up, Theo, please?” He said innocently.
Fuck yeah, I can give you a hand stud, and a mouth, and an ass and...
“Sure” I tried to say against his cock.
Then things got even worse, or better for me, if I can say so myself, cause I was just about to realize how much of a clumsy boy Jon actually was. As I put both hands on his shorts and tried to push them up on his smooth, muscular thighs, destiny chose that exact moment to sprout what seemed to be a big cloud of hung, jock boy pheromones straight from Jon’s cock into my nose, his powerful scent wafting inside my brain completely and turning my insides into mush. I lost completely control of my body as my head fogged again and lost my balance on my knees, making me fall back against my ankles. But I never lost my grip on Jon’s shorts, so when I fell back I brought the big stud down on top of me, my head in between his legs and face close against his now half-hard cock.
I felt my head banging against the dorm floor as I fell back, aware of Jon’s weight on top of me; fortunately, the big teen stud put his athletic prowess to the test and put both hands forward before he met the floor, arriving in a push-up position, crotch positioned perfectly in front of my face. During this whole accident, I had opened my mouth to grasp a shout when I felt several inches of thick, jock boy cock lodging itself perfectly down my throat. I groaned at the feeling of Jon’s meaty dick inside my mouth, finally tasting him to the hilt, and just like that, in less than five seconds, Jon went fully hard inside my mouth, stretching my lips obscenely around his cock and taking all of my air out. I gagged and moaned, and I felt the pressure my pink, twink lips and mouth were exerting on Jon’s cock travel all the way through his body, making him groan and tremble.
My mouth was stuffed full of what seemed to be at least 9 or, hell, 10 inches, of Jon’s perfect, juicy boy cock. I was in fucking gay boy heaven!
“Fuck”, I heard Jon grumble above me. He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he too had lost any sense of himself, as I had, and his fat balls slapped against my chin and neck. I immediately put my hands on the curve where his thighs met his muscular asscheeks, holding him gently, when Jon suddenly lowered his body towards my face, shoving his huge hard cock even deeper down my throat. He left it there for a few seconds and then pushed his powerful arms back to retrieve his dick from my mouth and end this marvelous confusion, but when I felt his numerous inches start to slip out of my mouth I immediately sealed my lips closely against his shaft, not letting him go anywhere.
“I’m so, so sorry Theo! Please don’t hate me, bud! I swear I never intended to shove my big fucking prick in your mouth like that man, oh, what a scene! This is such a terrible mistake man, I’m so sorry for being such a clutz and falling on you like that, and worse, making you take all of my 10 inches! Fuck! I can’t fucking believe this happened with me again, man, I can’t believe it, I’m such a mess, so clumsy! I haven’t been here for even a couple hours and I’m already embarrassing myself like this again! And now my cock is stuck in your mouth and I can’t get it out! My best bro Billy warned me against this, dude, he did, but here we are again, I guess” at that, the big stud slowly started doing real push-ups against my face, slowing getting down and shoving all of his thick teen meat all the way inside my throat, only to then come back to start it all over again.
He seemed lost on his own story: in his head this was all his fault, so he had to make it right. He kept talking as he pushed his dick in and out of my mouth, me doing my part to keep it tightly inside right before the point in which his inflated cock head would slip out of my lips. As he kept his back and forth motions, his body started to build up a rhythm slowly, going faster and faster. In just a few seconds, he would be fully fucking my face against the floor with his huge, hard cock, I could tell.
“You see, buddy, it seems by big dick is stuck in your throat, man, and no matter how many times I try to push it out, it won’t budge. So try to breath nice and easy through your nose, yeah? Breath in when I push my dick and out as I take it back, like this, yeah bro! Oh fuck, your throat is so tight. You’re just squeezing me so good... I see you’re gagging a little bit. That’s normal dude, don’t worry, it’s this fucking horse cock... I know this situation is terribly embarrassing for you and might seem terrible, but keep calm, I know exactly how to handle it!” As he talked, he had now perfected the rhythm of his dick inside my mouth, in an out, going faster by the minute and sometimes twisting around as if he was trying to discover uncharted territory inside my tight teen throat.
“The things is, bro, ah, fuck yeah, the thing is this has actually happened with me several times before, fuck. Yeah, I know, so embarrassing, right? But I’m such a clumsy idiot man. Back home, my best bro Billy seemed to get his mouth stuck around my cock at least once a week. Fuck, maybe even two or three times a week sometimes... He kinda looks like you, tho. Very cute, nice little body. I felt so bad every time one of these incidents happened with us, I felt almost like I couldn’t look Billy in the face ever again! To think about the fact that my cock got shoved inside his mouth so many times, all 10 inches of it... Fuck, man, and not only Billy, but with some other guys, too, but fuck, oh, ah, this is, hum, maybe a story for another time. It seems I’m always getting myself in those kind of situations, don’t even know why, it’s so fucking humiliating for me!” Jon was now breaking a sweat as he got serious on top of me, doing his push-ups perfectly like a young cadet in the army. I tried with all my might to pay attention to his story as his big hard cock slammed my throat harder and harder, almost taking me out with the pleasure of it all.
“So, after this happened a few times, me and Billy spent a lot of time talking about what we should do to handle this kind of situation if it ever happened again, so we found a solution for it. And it did happened again, Theo, over” THRUST! “and over” THRUST! THRUST! “and over, and over again “THRUST! THRUST! THRUST! THRUST! THRUS-
“So we had a lot of practice” he was panting now with the effort of doing his push-ups and fucking my face raw against the floor while telling his story, going so hard on me and pushing his massive dick so deep down my throat my head was banging back against the wood flor, making a “THUD” sound each time he speared me full of his huge jock cock. “And we agreed that, anytime that Billy’s sweet, young mouth got stuck around my cock again, or, fuck, oh fuck, yeah, aaaah! Fuck! Or, for that matter, if any other guy’s tight throat ever got stuck with my cock I would just fuck the guy’s face hard, just like this, just as I’m fucking your face, Theo, fucking it so, so good, you take my dick so well, it’s incredible, I would fuck it and fuck it and just ram my cock inside non stop until I fucking cum inside, so my dick can finally get soft and we can maybe use my thick cum as lube! I always cum so much, so it always work’s buddy! Oh yeah!”.
Suddenly Jon stopped talking for a few seconds and just concentrated on skull fucking me to oblivion, the quick slaps of his big balls sure to leave red marks on my neck due to his speed and strength. My head was hitting back against the floor as he wrecked my face on his cock, slamming me all the way on it, thoroughly fucking my face. I was gagging, gasping and moaning all the same time, his big cock and my chest completely drenched with my spit. His cock was so wet with it that it made his job easier, thick shaft slipping smoothly inside. The combination of the small pain on my head and the sensational pleasure of being stuffed full with such a big, perfect dick like this was like the most powerful drug to me, and I was having little orgasms all over my body. I had already came, my shorts and underwear sticky with the proof, and I groped both his ass cheeks harder with my hands, pressing my knuckles deep on his smooth, firm skin, and pushing his cock back against my mouth, signaling to him I was good with this, good with his plan. Hell, I was absolutely loving what was happening.
“Here it is, Theo, are you ready? Are you ready, baby? I’m going to cum, dude, cum all the way down your throat, yeah, stuff you full with it. Take my cock dude, I think it will finally come out man! Take it! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming!” Jon shouted, holding himself up with one hand while his other one came down to my hair to hold me tight on his cock as he spurted jet after jet of the most delicious, juicy cum I had ever dreamed of tasting. He was all boy, all men, all healthy and strong for me. Just for me.
We stayed there for a few minutes, Jon taking his time milking his cock down my throat, giving me every little drop of his perfect cum, holding my face gently as he pumped his cock in and out a few times to make sure he had drained himself fully inside of me. When he was done, we stayed there still for a few more minutes, waiting for the big teen stud’s cock to deflate so he could finally take it out of my mouth. I opened my lips, showing to him that the passage was clear, so he got down on his knees, legs spread on each side of my torso, and rested his steel hard ass on my chest gently, smiling at me. I smiled at him also, exposing to him what I knew was a mouth still filled with left over cum. Stud jock cum. Jon’s cum.
He took his now half hard dick in his right hand and tapped it gently against my lips, as if congratulating me for being such a good pal during this whole ordeal.
“I’m so sorry, bro, I hope you can forgive me for this. I’ll try to not let this kind of thing happen again, yeah?” He smiled softly, still gently slapping his cock head on my face.
“No way, Jon”, I thought. I’m going to make sure this happens again, stud. I’ll make sure this will never stop happening.
2K notes · View notes
coffeestainsandcashmere · 4 years ago
Text
Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - An Older Dramione Story, Part Two
Since folks seemed to like the first part (thank you so much for letting me know, by the way! It’s genuinely quite scary flinging stories into the dusky blue void of Tumblr, especially if you’re relatively new to contributing to a fandom...!!), here’s Part Two.
Premise:
Draco, eight months after becoming a widower, nearly loses his son too in a vicious attack at Malfoy Manor. In the aftermath, while he’s being questioned by the aurors, there’s no one to look after little Scorpius, who just won’t stop howling. In desperation, and remembering how good Hermione had been with his kids, Harry brings the baby up to her office. In the end, the only thing that will calm the child is the soft hum of Hermione’s voice as she sings to him. Of course, that would be how Draco Malfoy finds her, wouldn’t t it? And then, eleven years later, Hermione meets him again and ends up asking him to lunch at the Leaky…
(Warnings in Part One (and in any future chapters) for past Ron/Hermione, and implied infertility. No explicit Ron-bashing, but it’s implied that their relationship couldn’t take the strain and he looked elsewhere. I may develop it later, but it won’t be a Ron-bashing fic. They’re just ultimately incompatible in this universe).
Read Part One here
Part Two - Lunch for Two at the Leaky
___
Hermione, being Hermione, arrived at the Leaky Cauldron just over half an hour before she was due to meet Malfoy there. After getting a large glass of dry white wine from the bar and settling into a table with a view of the doorway, she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then delved into her infinite handbag of holding to draw out a book.  
Twenty nine minutes later, a soft snort made her jump, and she looked up, blinking, to find Draco Malfoy towering over her table, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Some things never change, do they Granger?” he said. He was still in that beautiful navy blue suit that fitted him so damned perfectly he could have strolled straight out of the glossy adverts in Witch Weekly, and it made her mouth go unexpectedly dry, and her brain rather blank too.  
Her cheeks flushed and she opened her mouth, but promptly realised she had nothing to say in rebuttal, so closed it again with a click of her teeth and shrugged. “I guess not.”
“You want another one?” he asked.  
“Another book?” she blurted, frowning.  
To her surprise, Malfoy barked a short laugh, silver eyes glinting. “No, Granger,” he said with an odd intonation. “Drink.”
She glanced down at her nearly-empty glass, and pursed her lips. Raising one eyebrow, she turned her face to look at him slightly askance and smirked. “Just what kind of degenerate do you take me for?” she parroted back at him.  
“Of course. The ex-Minister for Magic can’t be seen drinking herself into a stupor at midday with a former Death Eater now, can she?” he sneered, the humour vanishing. “I’ll be right back.”
Blowing the rising tension from her lungs, she hoped this wasn’t going to be a huge mistake and closed her eyes a moment, then returned her book to her bottomless handbag. With nothing to do until Malfoy returned — if he even returned, of course; he could have just bolted for the back door and disapparated — she cursed and fussed with her cuticles until the crisp click of dragonhide leather Oxfords rose above the low lunchtime murmur in the pub.  
“That was ungracious of me,” he said as he sat down. “I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven,” she said quickly. “I’m a touch nervous too.”
Malfoy went still at that, but instead of unleashing another snippy comment at her expense, he just twitched his lips and nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “To the most unusual of days,” he said, raising his own glass of white. 
She clinked the remnants of hers against his, and added, “And to new beginnings, I think.” She looked at her watch and smiled. “They’ll be just south of Birmingham by now, I suspect.”
“Who will?” he asked after sipping his wine. She half expected him to make some kind of remark about its inferior vintage, but he seemed happy enough with it.  
“The Express,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten dear Scorpius already?” she teased.  
He shook his head. “No. But you’re as hard to keep up with as you ever were, Granger.”
“I don’t recall you ranking too many places behind me, Malfoy. And you beat me in Potions every year bar one, though I rather suspect Snape had a hand in keeping my marks down there…”
He shrugged noncommittally.  
“Which house do you think Scorpius will find his way into?” she asked. “Slytherin like his father?”
“Probably,” Malfoy said ruefully. “He can be a cunning little shit when he wants to be.”
She had to smile at that. “Tell me about him?”
Malfoy sighed and took another sip of wine. “He’s smart,” he began, somewhat hesitantly, as if he thought he might bore Hermione if he said too much about his son.  
“No surprises there,” she scoffed playfully. “Is he a future seeker too, or do the similarities end with the brains?”
A very slight flush blossomed on Malfoy’s ice-white cheeks. “I didn’t know you even remembered I played quidditch, Granger.”
Her eyebrows rose and she tried not to snort wine out of her nostrils. Malfoy had looked devastating in his quidditch kit as he’d grown into it, not that she’d ever admitted that to anyone. He’d been a right arse too back at school, no matter how beautiful his own had looked in his flying gear, so her admiration then had been purely aesthetic. “Yes, Malfoy,” she sighed. “I do remember that. I also remember the Slytherin team being quite the thorn in our side for most of our time there…”
He hitched a lopsided smirk and took a sip of wine.  
The way he held the glass in long, steady fingers made her core heat slightly and she had to look away. The reaction took her off-guard. It had been years since she’d felt even the slightest flicker of sexual attraction for anyone.  
“Are you admitting that we were actually good, Granger?”
Hermione rolled her brown eyes and shook her head, causing a cascade of curls to tumble into her face like an avalanche set off by the merest touch. Shoving it all back out of her eyes, she said, “Much as I’d like to say it was only daddy’s money and a set of fancy brooms that gave you an edge, it wasn’t. Flint was still a dirty rotten cheater, but half of you were pretty darned good. And it doesn’t even take a quidditch player to see that. So how old was Scorpius when you had him on a broom of his own?”
A cloudy look passed over his eyes and he blinked slowly. “Four.”
“Four!”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Granger. I didn’t plonk him on a broom, slap the bristles, and send it racing off into the middle of Wiltshire with my son and heir alone. He rode in my lap with me until he was seven or so, and even then, I enchanted his broom not to go above five feet. He was furious about that,” he chuckled. “Naturally, he tried everything he could think of to undo the enchantment, but in the end he resorted to getting one of the house elves to undo it. She was devastated when she realised quite what she’d done and came to me immediately.”
Hermione’s lip curled involuntarily at the mention of house elves. “So long as you didn’t make her iron her own hands in punishment,” she said before she could stop herself.  
Malfoy blinked, blanching and obviously taken aback. “No, Granger,” he breathed, and after a long pause he added, “I am not my father.”
The words rang in the air between them and something unpleasantly akin to shame coiled in her belly, soured by the wine on an empty stomach. “Now it’s my turn to apologise for being ungracious,” she said. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not your father. I’ve known that for a very long time.”
Before Malfoy could open his mouth to reply, Old Tom shuffled over and stuck some menus under their noses. “You said you was stayin’ for lunch, ma’am, but neither of you’s collected a menu,” he said before disappearing.  
“Ma’am,” she repeated in a stage whisper to Malfoy. “I never got used to that at the Ministry. Makes me sound like some old frump.” A tiny, bitter snort escaped her and she added, “Well, if the shoe fits.”
“Granger, please,” Malfoy drawled. “You are anything but an ‘old frump’.”
Drawn up short by the unexpectedly open compliment, she looked at him, lips softly parted.  
“What?” he asked, looking like he thought she might hex his balls off if he moved so much as a muscle. “Surely Weasley must have told you the same thing once or twice? I know the man is about as artless as a grindylow, but…”
The sudden mention of Ron’s name nearly gave her emotional whiplash, and she huffed a tiny laugh. “We’re not together anymore. Surely you heard?”
“I hadn’t,” he said, voice flat. “I’m sorry.”
“You must be the only person in the entirety of Wizarding Britain who missed that then,” she groused, opening the menu and taking in the options without really seeing them. “Rita Skeeter’s nasty little protégée wrote an entire Prophet article on our breakup.”
“I haven’t exactly kept up to date with current affairs,” he said awkwardly, lowering his gaze to the menu.  
“Current? This was eleven years ago, Malfoy.” She fixed him with a wary stare and whispered, “Don’t tell me Ginny was right? You really are a recluse?”
“This would be my first public outing in a very long time, yes,” he said carefully without looking up. “But I do venture forth from my little fortress every so often. I was at Theo’s anniversary do a few months ago.”
“I missed that,” she said. “I was supposed to be there, but Harry had a crisis with his brood. You’d never believe it - there was a cursed photo-frame stuffed behind a piece of panelling in the drawing room at Grimmauld, and Lily managed not only to find it but to activate it. She was stuck inside it for hours and Harry was beside himself, but we got her out and she was alright in the end.”
“Grimmauld,” Malfoy murmured, and his silver eyes rose to meet hers. “My aunt’s family home?”
She nodded and then the knut dropped. “I forgot you’re a Black too by blood.”
His mouth twitched and he nodded. “I haven’t been there since I was a very small child. I’m assuming they redecorated…”
“Thoroughly.”
“Not thoroughly enough,” he quipped. “That awful tapestry still knocking around?”
“God no,” she scoffed. “That was one of the first things to go. Along with the collection of shrunken house elf heads and the troll skull that screamed at you if you got too close to it. There was even a boggart in the basement, if you can believe the cliché. Anyway,” she said, keen to change topics, “You were proving to me that you aren’t a complete hermit. Was Theo’s party really the last thing you went out for?”
He seemed a little bashful as he nodded. “I… I don’t exactly find myself welcome everywhere, even now, Granger,” he said dryly. He’d nearly finished his wine, and when Tom hobbled over to take their food order, he asked for a second glass, in which Hermione joined him.  
“Guess we are degenerates after all,” she said as she met his eyes over the empty table.  
“The people behind you certainly seem to think very little of your choice of prandial company, Granger,” he said flatly, interlacing his long fingers and arching a pale eyebrow.  
Where at Hogwarts he’d had pale, pristine hands, now she saw innumerable scars and nicks across his knuckles, and they were undoubtedly the strong, steady hands of a grown man, with none of the softness of youth. Heat bloomed across her neck and face, and to distract herself she looked over her shoulder to glower at the people shooting them scandalised looks across the dark pub.  
“Screw them,” she muttered. “They have no idea about anything anyway.”
If Malfoy was puzzled by her outburst, he didn’t show it.  
They shared their meal and spoke easily enough about Hermione’s astonishing and unprecedented rise through the ministry, and how she’d cracked one day — the details of which she chose not to divulge — and had quit and decided to open a bookshop instead. “It’s been so much more fulfilling,” she finished, slightly breathless.  
“A bookshop?” he smiled, eyes glittering.  
“I know, I know,” she growled, gesticulating with her dessert spoon in between delicious mouthfuls of Florian’s ice cream which the Leaky now sold. “Could I be any more cliché?”  
With a graceful shrug of one shoulder, Malfoy just said, “I think it suits you. And if it makes you happy, why not?”
“What makes you happy then?” she asked before her brain had caught up with the question. “I mean…” she flushed hot again. “I just wondered what you do up at the Manor all day.”
“Well,” he said evenly around a slice of apple tart, “Until this morning, I largely oversaw Scorpius general education, but I have been involved in a number of other projects here and there too.”
“Projects?”
“Mmm,” he said, but clearly wasn’t in the mood to elaborate and she didn’t press.
“Well, Theo’s having drinks at his place on Friday… you should come.”
“Which place?”  
“He has more than one place? I thought he closed Nott Manor up for good?”
Malfoy smirked. “He has a number of places, Granger.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling stupid. “Well, his usual one here in London, I suppose… He didn’t tell me anything different…” She set her spoon down and sat back. “Merlin, I’m full,” she laughed. “So, will you come?”
“Do you always invite strays to other people’s parties?”
“Do you always deflect social invitations in the hopes that they’ll go away if you ignore them long enough?” she countered with an even stare.  
Malfoy’s spine stiffened a touch at that, but the look which settled onto his face could only be chalked up to respect, and he allowed himself another flinty smile. “Touché,” he said. “Yes, it usually works well enough.”
“Not this time.”
“Evidently,” he said with crisp enunciation. “Fine. I will consider attending.”
She snickered almost childishly at that. “You make it sound like it’s some fancy black tie do that you might condescend to attend if the mood strikes…”
“I don’t know what a ‘black tie do’ is, but I am considering condescending to attend all the same.”
“Fair enough. And a black tie event is a Muggle thing. It’s like dress robes for Muggles.”
“Ah, I see. Thank you.”  
And with that, their conversation stalled for the first time all afternoon. Hermione looked down at her watch and gasped. “God, Malfoy, it’s been three and a half hours!”  
“I’m surprised you lasted five minutes if I’m honest,” he said quietly.  
She frowned and delved into her handbag again, looking for her coin purse. “You fancy taking a walk to shake all this food down?” she asked, but Malfoy was already shaking his head.  
“Unfortunately, I really should get going. Please, Granger, let me pay for this. It’s been an unexpected pleasure on a day that would otherwise have been very grey indeed.”
His sincerity struck her like a physical blow, and she could hardly respond as Tom came over as if summoned by the clink of money, and Malfoy smoothly left a handful of coins on the tray and told Tom to keep the change.  
“Very well, M’lord,” Tom said, bowing slightly as he left.  
“‘M’lord’?” Hermione asked and Malfoy immediately rolled his eyes.  
“I really wish people wouldn’t call me that. Mercifully it doesn’t happen all that often. I usually find myself on the receiving end of far less gracious epithets.”
“You are a lord though? Your father wasn’t a lord, was he?”
“No. It’s Lord Black, technically. My father had no claim to the title, being a Malfoy, but with my mother’s blood, I inherited the title. Needless to say, I don’t bandy it around if I can help it.”
“I see,” she said, rising from her seat. “Well, thank you for lunch. You really didn’t have to pay though.”
“I know,” he said shyly as he stood with the grace of a lifelong seeker. “Still, it was a pleasure.”
She smoothed her clothes out, trying to avoid feeling like that frumpy old matron beside the lean, tall figure of Draco Malfoy, and pursed her lips. “See you Friday then?”
Before he’d obviously thought about it, Malfoy nodded. “Friday,” he said, and then realised he’d committed himself and laughed softly with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Friday,” he said again.  
Hermione held out her hand to him and he surprised her yet again by taking it delicately in his fingers and raising her knuckles to his lips. The faintest brush of a kiss against her skin set her tingling all over and she nearly gasped, flushing a dark crimson.  
“Good day, Granger,” he said, and stalked from the pub.  
Outside on Diagon Alley’s cobbled streets, he disapparated without looking back.
___
If you liked where it’s going and want to see more, do let me know! Either by reblogging this or sending me an ask.
Part Three
writing masterlist | Ao3
118 notes · View notes
heliads · 4 years ago
Text
At the Café
Brett Talbot needs a new day job. Why he had to choose the shop where you work with your friend is a mystery, but it could have to do with the fact that he’s utterly in love with you.
masterlist
Tumblr media
As you duck through the door to your friend’s café, you’re instantly enveloped by the familiar, comforting smell of homemade food. You sling your backpack in a corner and grab your flour-dusted apron, pulling it on and tying the strings behind you. Just as the clock strikes four, you’re making your way to your cashier station in the front.
You’ve been working at Irene’s café for what feels like forever. The little coffee shop/bakery/whatever you want to call it had been shifted from your friend’s uncles to her aunts, and then finally to her parents. You’re not quite sure how it’s managed to stay alive for so long, maybe some combination of hard work, grit, and dark magic, but here it is, thriving amongst the other shops of Beacon Hills.
You knew it was hard to run the café on top of all the other work and schoolwork your friend had to manage, and so you took some shifts to help out. Most of the time, you were a cashier or a waitress, helping to make drinks or prepare orders with your friend while the other family members and workers made pastries and delectable meals in the back.
Irene smiles when she sees you. “If it isn’t my favorite coworker! Thank goodness you’re here- I hate having to be up front alone.” You laugh at her words. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have favorites, especially when half of your family works here as well.” Irene swats your shoulder playfully. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
The two of you descend into the usual buzz of the café, fixing drinks and running through orders. About half an hour into your shift, though, your friend turns to you, groaning quietly and turning away from the door so she can hide her distress from the customers. “No- it’s the Devenford boys again.” You glance from her to the shop windows, where you can see a group of boys in athletic uniforms talking amongst themselves and heading in a clear path to the café.
You wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion. “Those boys? They seem fine.” Irene heaves a dramatic sigh. “Trust me, they’re worse than just fine. That’s the Devenford Prep lacrosse team. They come here after practice, and they’re just awful. I can’t deal with them. I simply cannot.” Across the shop, the door opens and the boys file in, grabbing seats at a booth near the windows. Your friend clutches your sleeve desperately. “I can’t handle them, not today. Please, can you go take their order instead of me?” You do your best to hold back a laugh. “Sure. Try not to collapse from the stress.” 
As Irene whispers wretched thank-yous in your ear, you grab a small notebook and a pen and walk briskly over to the lacrosse team’s booth, running through the mandated greetings. “Hi! What can I get you this afternoon?” The boys mutter amongst themselves, and then one of them turns to you. He’s clearly the captain, as all the other boys look to him. “I’ll have a black coffee. No sugar, please- you’re already too sweet for me.”
You raise your eyebrows at that. “Wow. That was terrible.” The boy’s face falls momentarily before returning to the usual cocky smirk, but you ignore him and continue to take orders from the rest of the team. As you head back to Irene, you give her an irritated look. “I can see why you wanted to avoid them. I think the captain tried to flirt with me, but I couldn’t hear him through all the sheer awfulness.” Your friend giggles as the two of you start to prepare the order. “That’s Brett Talbot. I think he flirts with everything that breathes.”
You look at her in confusion. “Wait, that’s Brett Talbot?” Irene nods. “Yeah, do you know him?” You shake your head slowly. “No, but I think he used to bully a friend of mine, Liam. I’ve never seen him in person, though, just heard enough stories to make me want to avoid him forever.”
After the order is ready, you bring over the drinks and food, mentally preparing yourself for the unfortunate task of having to deal with the Devenford boys once more. This time, the captain- Brett- doesn’t try another pickup line, but he does wink at you when you give him his coffee.
One week later, you’re just handing a steaming hot tea to another patron when Brett comes in again with a few of his friends. He tosses out a greeting to you alongside another wink, and you do your best to ignore him. He’s come in a few more times in the past week, each time making sure to flirt with you until you felt ready to hit him with whatever heavy object was nearby.
Irene is kind to you today and she takes their order, although she makes sure to relay back to you that Brett asked why you weren’t there to talk to him. You roll your eyes and are about to deliver a biting retort, but you’re distracted when a good friend of yours walks through the door.
You beam at him as he walks over. “Theo! It’s so good to see you!” The chimera grins back at you. “Hi, Y/N! How’s the café?” You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s just great. You want some coffee?” Theo nods gratefully. “Please.” As you prepare his drink, the two of you dissolve into conversation. Oddly enough, across the room Brett looks angry as he watches the two of you talk. What’s his problem?
It’s yet another sunny day after school with you managing the café. Irene had a club meeting after school, so it’s just you for today. A door swings open next to you, and Irene’s dad steps out. “Hey, Y/N? I just wanted to let you know- we have a new employee, starting today.” You nod. “Cool. Who is he?” Her dad gestures behind him for the newcomer to join you. “Actually, you might know him.” You feel the urge to stifle a groan as you realize who the café’s latest employee is- none other than Brett Talbot.
After Irene’s dad leaves, you fold your arms across your chest and stare at Brett. “What are you doing?” Brett just smirks, walking to stand right beside you at the checkout window. “I am working at my new job.” You give him a suspicious look. “Why here?” Brett pretends to be upset. “What, I can’t work at a shop I like? I needed a new job and this happened to be the best opportunity.” He flashes you a devilish grin, leaving you to groan inwardly and do your best to survive the next few hours working alongside Brett Talbot.
It actually isn’t that bad. He is, admittedly, a hard worker, and he does seem to enjoy working at the café. However, he also does seem to make it a habit to flirt with you all the time, knowing you can’t do anything about it. When the door opens and a new customer steps into the shop, you’re grateful for something else to do other than ignore Brett.
The customer steps up to the counter, walking with a swagger that seems to suggest he thinks the world of himself. He treats you to a smirk, leaning forward to get even closer to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Can I get a drink from the prettiest girl in Beacon Hills?” You raise your eyebrows at the boy in front of you. “Uh, what? I mean, what drink?” The boy grins at you, a cheeky smirk that makes you want to leave the room, or maybe even the planet. “You decide, sweetheart. As long as I can get your number with it.”
You shake your head slowly. “Uh, no thanks. I don’t give out my number to customers.” The boy puts on a fake pout. “Not even for me? Come on, sweetheart, I know you want to.” You take a slight step back and away from him. “I don’t-” Brett interrupts you all of the sudden, moving to stand next to you and glaring at the customer. “She’s not interested. Get your drink and go.”
The boy rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t want you interfering. We’re just having a friendly conversation.” Brett fixes the boy with a threatening stare, moving an arm in between you and the boy almost like a shield. “She’s not interested. Here’s your coffee, now leave.” The anger and tension between the boys is so intense that it seems like it fills the room. The customer maintains eye contact with Brett for a moment longer, then shrugs his shoulders as if the whole thing was just a joke. “Whatever, man. I don’t want her anyway- probably just a rebound for whoever’s closest to her.”
As the boy walks away, you almost have to hold Brett back from lunging towards him. In a panic, you realize that Brett’s eyes are starting to glow the gold of a werewolf. Frantically, you pull him out of the public eye and into the nearest room you can find- a supply closet just a few feet away. In the darkened room, you grab Brett’s hands, trying to calm him down. 
“Brett, listen to me! You need to stop being mad. He’s gone, it’s okay.” Brett’s voice is harsh and almost sounds like a growl. “He can’t do that. He can’t say that to you.” You move your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “It’s fine. You helped me get out of that conversation, and it’s all gone. Just breathe.” You and Brett stay like that, fingers intertwined and your hand softly brushing the hair out of his eyes, until the gold finally ebbs away from his eyes and the crisis is averted. 
Brett breathes heavily. “Thanks, Y/N.” You nod. “Of course.” All of a sudden, you realize just what this looks like- how close the two of you are in this dark room, with you pressed up against him. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fumble for the doorknob. “Uh, I should probably get back. Don’t want to leave the shop unattended.”
The end of your shift comes quickly, thank goodness. You can still feel Brett’s touch against you, and you hurry out of the café and into the bright sun gratefully. Why are you feeling like this?
Unfortunately, it appears you won’t be able to be alone with your thoughts. You’ve barely gone a few feet down the sidewalk when you hear a shout from behind. It’s Brett, heading purposefully out of the shop after you. Briefly, you consider pretending you hadn’t heard him and continuing on down the road, but he’s already caught up with you.
“Can I walk you home?” Brett looks at you, hand raking through his already disheveled brown hair. You shrug. “You don’t have to- I only live a block or two away.” Brett keeps walking beside you. “I’d still like to.”
He’s true to his word- despite your house being already in view, Brett still takes the time to walk you to your front door. You reach out for the doorknob, but his hand moves faster, taking yours and forcing you to face him once more. “I wanted to thank you again for today. I haven’t lost control like that in a while.”
You smile lightly. “Hey, no problem. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to talk someone out of wolfing out.” Brett fixes you with a steady look. “Is it alright if it isn’t the last?” He leans closer to you, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. “I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot. I know I’ve kind of been an asshole in the past, but I do care about you.”
You look up at him, nerves clearly written across his face. “I care about you too, Brett. I didn’t want to admit it before, but I do.” Brett beams at that. “Perfect.” With that, he lightly kisses you and then turns around, heading back down the street towards home. You watch him go, hand unconsciously traveling to your lips. Perfect indeed.
247 notes · View notes
infinitethree · 3 years ago
Note
WasTaken family, what worlds do you like going to best?
Unlike the last time a question was directed towards the entire family, this time they're split into groups.
Theo, Perce, and Lee are once again in the arena, though they’re joined by three of the Council members–Aster, Aleph, and Khons.
Lee sits attentively in the stands with Khons and Perce, attention zeroed in on the other three. They're having some sort of three-way spar and it's...fast. Very, very fast; so fast it's easy to miss the identical, feral grins that Theo and Aster have. Aleph doesn't seem as blatantly enthused, nor quite as speedy, but seems to be enjoying himself and holding his own just fine.
Especially when Theo falters for a fraction of a second and gets a sword through his chest for it.
Almost immediately he starts shouting, darting back into the arena from the respawn room. "That didn't fuckin' count! Interference!" The other two disengage, glance at each other, and then over to Theo. "...Are you sure you aren't just being a sore loser? There wasn't anything that I saw," The piglin hybrid's mostly monotone voice carries a bit of amusement, even if he knows damn well what's going on. All of the Council members do, actually.
Observers are present and almost certainly have asked something.
Theo scowls at him. "Fuckin' question popped up! S' still weird as shit!"
Aster, still catching his breath, squints at him. "...How is it any different from the Fates? Isn't it just one more voice?" The warrior rolls his eyes, flopping down near his brothers in the stands. "No, n’ it's hard to explain why it's not the same," he grumbles, “It just is.” Aleph and Aster both take seats nearby, since there wasn't much point in continuing without him. They had plenty of time to spar just the two of them.
Perce speaks up from his place next to Khons. "As funny as it would be if Theo was just making excuses for fucking up," he says, ignoring the indignant squawk from said brother, "I got it, too. I'm sort of surprised, though–and a little confused about how much they all know. Theo and Dad are the ones in the family who travel a lot--the rest of us only occasionally go elsewhere. For me, it's less of a 'kind' and more a specific one. I like visiting my original world. It's nice meeting up with my friends and seeing how things have been. I don’t regret moving here, but...I still miss them sometimes."
Lee grins, elbowing him. "I was too adorable to not move here for, right?" Perce laughs, reaching over to ruffle his younger brother's hair. "Of course. You'll only be tiny for so long. Plus I thought it would be good to give the rest of them more space. I'm not even the admin any more--and before I get asked, I was...different, from how Dad and Dream Prime. I just kept things running smoothly, no world-talking or link to it like they have. Had, in Dad’s case. From what everyone back on my original world has told me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are doing a great job. I figured they would–wouldn’t have given them control otherwise– but…it’s still nice to be proven right."
There's a grin from the eldest brother at that. He extends a fist towards Aster as he says, "Tommys are just fuckin' pog like that." The Sword bumps his fist back, smiling a little. "We're pretty capable, given the right motivation."
"Best world is Opinionated Ranboo's. Cookie Dream n’ the rest of the cookie team are awesome! Even Ranboo is funny, if a little...likely to give me a headache. The cookies are worth it though! Nothing beats getting one right out of the oven," Lee declares, earning a few smiles. "Capitalist Tommy is another very pog one of us,” Theo comments, “Pretty fuckin’ sure we’d end up signing our souls over if he, Tommy Prime, n’ Caper ever went into business together. We’re just real fuckin’ lucky that Capitalist Tommy is more focused on his own world.”
Khons adds mildly, “And that Caper is more focused on the Prank Guild. Most Tommys are…pretty scary, when they want to be.” Really, though, Khons had his own opinion of who the most terrifying Tommy was. It took a special kind of person to quietly create an entire organization with a secret council at the helm, hide all evidence of said council’s existence from someone who could be shown anything that happened in the world and seamlessly lie to countless people for three years. It took an even more special person to do that for the defense of an admittedly already very safe child, and to then thrive on the deception.
There were a lot of things about Daz that were baffling. Most of them tied back to whatever the hell his original world had been like. A lot of the details of that were withheld even from the other Council members. Though, to be fair, the rest of them weren't exactly open books about their own first worlds either.
“And you, Theo? Favorite kind of world?” It only takes a few moments after Perce looks to his eldest brother before the answer comes. “Probably peaceful-weird ones. Y’know, where shit’s fuckin’ strange but there’s not any real danger. Or, if there is, s’ more like we need to bring people back ‘cause the world is fucked, but not in an insta-death way. More like, uh…there was one with fuckin’--Dream on a little island, n’ the world had flooded, right? But he refused to go unless his friend–fuckin’ merman Quackity, which was wild for a few fuckin’ reasons–could go with him. S’ you might be able to guess, was sorta hard to bring a person who doesn’t have legs n’ can’t breathe air through a portal with us!”
Perce’s eyes narrow slightly. “...Wasn’t that the one where Vio reverse engineered a water breathing potion out of spite? Even though he has basically a magic allergy?” Theo laughs cheerfully, “Yeah! Fucker scared the shit out of the two we were fuckin’ there to help, ‘cause he flat out didn’t sleep for about four days. Dream asked at one point what was up with him, and Dad fuckin’ said that Vio has a personal grudge against water. Fucker then shouted back that water had a personal grudge against him, n’ I think I laughed so hard I blacked out for a few seconds.”
“Sounds about right,” Aleph says, smiling faintly. “He was…interesting. In the world Moons and I came from, he decided to leave a message for the group we were running from that time.” Khons has stilled, an uneasy expression on his face. Aleph carefully leans against him ever so slightly, a gentle reminder of his presence. Theo watches them for a moment, then says helpfully, “So, yeah–that kind of place. Or just…ones without all the real fucked up shit. I’m real fuckin’ sick of finding another fuckin’ Protege Tommy world. No offense, Aster, but–”
A shrug meets the apology. Aster says mildly, “None taken. It’s depressing to see how common they are, anyway. Granted, a lot of them do end up in the Swords and Shields because…well. Lee is a sweet kid and one of the least threatening Dreams we have.” He looks at the kid in question, whose smile falters a bit. “...Would be nice if nobody was hurt at all, but…if they end up here, bad stuff happened to them or their world. I didn’t really…deal with any of that. Or, at least–I don’t remember it. I’ve gotten a lot of kindness from everyone here. It’s sort of…the least I can do, to try to make the really messed up people feel a little safer.”
One hand goes to touch the brooch worn over his heart. “...I just want everyone to be safe and happy. They deserve that much.” The quiet words linger for only a moment, and then he feels a hand settle gently on his head. When he looks up, Aster is smiling softly at him. “You’ve got a big heart. It’s what made all of us decide to stick by your side–we don’t want you to stop being that kind.”
The sheer weight of that draws a tiny frown from Lee. “I know, I know. It’s…” he trails off, struggling to put the feeling into words. After a few moments Khons gently offers, “It feels like you’re being given too much, right? Like you haven’t done enough to earn that sort of loyalty?” Lee nods a little. “Mhm. That’s how we all felt, you know. What had we done, to make us worthy of being taken back here? What had we done, to merit the kindness and empathy we’d been given? What made it okay for us to finally be safe?”
The rhetorical questions make Lee look a little offended. Feathers puffing in outrage, he protests, “Nobody has to earn–” “We know that, now. But at first…it’s hard to believe that. It’s easier to accept flower crowns and scrawled drawings and disarmingly sweet compliments from a little kid than it is to believe that the world really is safe. ‘Leph and I would probably never have gotten as involved in things if you hadn’t opened that door. It might not have been your intention to start anything bigger…but you did. We’re glad for it.”
Aleph inclines his head a little. “All of the Swords and Shields are behind you because of that. You didn’t say anything about Khons’ wool or my fur–you just said that his eyes are kind and that I looked like a good friend. It’s still not what we’re used to; a lot of new people will make comments about what we look like.”
Silence falls over them for a few moments, Lee clearly considering all of it. “...Okay,” he says with quiet reluctance. “Baby brother, just accept that you’re pog. S’ just a fact. Can’t turn the sky green or the fuckin’ grass blue, can’t change that you’re the best tiny brother I’ve ever had. None of the others fuckin’ compare,” Theo declares. Perce rolls his eyes, and elbows his elder brother. “Don’t rank us; I’ll tell Dad.” “Don’t be a sore loser, Perce. I can still kick your ass,” Theo retorts.
Perce grins at him, a toothiness to it that spoke of mischief and the innate competitive drive he had. “That really depends on what we’re going against each other in, but sure. Tell yourself you’re the best–if you say it enough times it might become true.” There’s a scoff from the elder brother, who ruffles his wings a little. “I can come out on top in anything–” “Manhunts, trivia nights, ability to keep my fucking mouth shut for more than five seconds–” “Fuck you! I could beat you if I wanted to–”
It quickly devolves into petty bickering, though there’s still that ever-present affectionate edge to it. Then Lee jumps into the verbal fray, which drags the two Swords and the Shield with him, and…it’s unlikely that the sparring will resume any time soon.
=================
Over in the flower fields next to Summer Hills, the second eldest of the family barely has to stop and think about the question. “Best worlds to visit are any of the peaceful ones with big societies and a lot of advanced tech. New things to take apart, new media, new internet to dive into. There’s always something unique in those worlds and I fucking love them.”
The two with him–Raine and Tubbo Prime–both stare at him. The other Tubbo looks confused. “Uh…Dee, who are you…oh.” He stops, realization dawning. “Did you get another question?” “Mm. Wanted to know the family’s favorite kind of world to visit,” Dee says, idly watching as bees float by them.
“...The whole…question thing unsettles me,” Raine admits quietly. “Yeah, shit’s weird. It’s just one more to add to the pile, though, and we can’t do much about it. Better to answer than be stubborn and piss whatever or whoever is asking off, right? Unless they’re assholes. In which case, I’ll meet that assholery in spades.”
Tubbo Prime grins a little. “Oh, definitely. Vee was pretty annoyed about the first few–last time I saw him go all eye twitchy like that was when he heard the names of Boo’s picks. Which was fair, because he’s been stabbed for those.” Raine’s expression turns deadpan. “His axe is bad, too. Not as bad as some of the other names I’ve heard, but…” “It’s okay,” Dee says earnestly, though with a mischievous grin. Putting a hand on his shoulder he continues, “This is a safe place. You can tell us how terrible Dream Prime’s equipment names are. We understand. We feel your pain.”
The three of them all crack up, Raine being the first to break. He wheezes out, “I still can’t believe he went from naming everything Nightmare to–whatever the fuck his current ones are–” Dee scowls, gesturing with his hands as he talks. “Dad knows what they mean. He refuses to explain beyond saying that they’re melodramatic and dumb as hell. I keep trying to get him to fucking crack, but…he’s him. So, you know, he’s a stubborn asshole who refuses to let me have any fun–”
Tubbo Prime shakes his head sympathetically. “Truly, he’s the head of the Fun Police.” “Yeah, but he’s pretty alright. And…a little scary,” Raine says as he lays back against the grass. “Oh yeah, no, you didn’t see him fight a fucking god with Theo, Techno, and Vee. He’s weird, but good weird. Like everyone else from that world!”
Dee makes a face. “No, there were assholes. There were a lot of assholes, actually. Hell, Vio used to be one of them. Still is, a little bit! I could start listing them off, but that’s fucking depressing. I’d rather watch the bees.” “Bees are superior to most things,” Tubbo Prime agrees, watching two of them drift by.
=================
Day sighs softly at the sound of a question. He’s in his living room with both Atlas and Orpheus, all three involved in their own projects. Day is in a chair and knitting a sweater in dark green, white, and light blue yarn. Atlas is positioned sideways on the couch with some sort of odd-looking board that he’s deftly knotting thin wire and beads onto in a complex pattern. Orpheus is…well. He’s got a ton of papers with notes and music on them spread out across the floor, his com propped up off to one side, a guitar halfway in his lap, and is chewing on a pencil.
“You two get that one, too?” “Yup,” Atlas says, not looking up from his project. Orph makes a noise of distracted agreement, eyes narrowed as he stares down at one of the pieces of paper like it personally offended him.
“Any of them I can go see musicals in,” Orph mutters after a moment. Atlas nods in agreement. “Yeah, those ones usually have good stuff for jewelry. It’s a pain to put away our wings, but worth it to just…go have a day of fun.”
“I keep getting mistaken for their brother. It’s funny,” Day cheerfully adds. Orpheus makes a face, finally looking up at him. “You get smug about it. It’s not their fault immortality isn’t a thing for most people–” “He gets so smug,” Atlas groans, glaring at their dad.
Day is entirely unrepentant. “Yes, well…it’s still very funny.” Orph points his pencil at him. “Hypocrite!” “Mmm, special Dad privileges. I’ve earned being a chaotic asshole from time to time,” Day says with a little shrug.
Orph starts intoning, “Every day spent here is a nightmare–” “No, that’s an axe. And a set of armor. And a sword–” Day’s interruption makes his son make an infuriated noise and hiss, “You know what I meant!”
That only makes Day raise his eyebrows slightly. “Of course I did. I also know that you’re a terrible gremlin child and deserve every single terrible dad joke I make. All of you do. I’m getting belated revenge for the raccoons, Orpheus.” Day shifts his attention to Atlas, who laughs nervously. “So, uh–your favorite kind of world, Dad?”
Day shrugs. “Anywhere that’s peaceful. It’s nice to not have to immediately deal with some horrible, nightmarish crisis involving pain, suffering, and death. The solution in those cases is usually more death. Or making everyone talk. Either way, I don’t like those. Ones that are just…silly, or lighthearted, or just generally aren’t deeply depressing. Or…hurt my head. We’ve had a few of those.”
“...Wilbur being married to XD was weird to hear about,” Atlas says, and all three of them make similar faces. Orpheus’s voice is slightly higher pitched as he rants, “How do you think it felt for me?! I had to hear about an alternate self that was married to a god who my Dad created here!”
“I had to meet a version of someone I fought a war against and another of whom is my son who married a god that is, for me, little more than an admin program I created. I had to have a little scream into a pillow after that one, because it was so baffling. We didn’t even do anything; we were just there to see it existed!” Day’s voice goes from oddly flat to somewhat frustrated as he speaks. He takes a moment to set his knitting down and stare blankly up at the ceiling. “I feel like the butt of a cosmic joke sometimes.”
“Nah,” Atlas offers mildly, looking back at his project, “that would be Dream Prime.”
4 notes · View notes
merakiui · 4 years ago
Text
Morning and Day Teams Playing Among Us HCs
The 14th Department decides to play Among Us. (Part 2 can be found here.)
Morning Team (Mane)
🧩 Ghilley 🧩
Ghilley’s good at sneaking around in real life, so you better believe he’s a pro at using the vents. 
Whenever he’s the impostor, his main tactic is to kill someone while they’re doing a task. He normally goes for Jamie because he can’t get used to the controls. Anyone who’s in Admin swiping the keycard better watch out if they can’t get it on the first try.
He’s only played a few times with the others and the manager, but he’s able to memorize the map as he goes along. Sneaking around all the time, even in the game, helps a lot.
He moves fast after he’s killed someone, so whenever there’s a body report no one ever suspects him. Somehow he finds a way to make it as far from the body as possible. 
He’s always trying to trick everyone during the debate so they never really know if he’s the impostor or not. 
Whenever the Reapers suspect him, he’ll just do that famous laugh of his. 
“Am I the impostor? I don’t know. Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. Ufufufu!”
It’s really hard to determine if he’s guilty or not because of how casual he is when playing. 
Sometimes he’ll throw out small hints so that the others will falsely accuse an innocent crew mate. He’ll say the most misleading things, which ends in an incorrect ejection. 
 His go-to color is black with the machete hat because it matches the sneaky vibe he always emits. 
☀️ Ell ☀️
Poor Ell. He’s so bad at Among Us. It’s not even funny.
For one, he can’t lie, so whenever he’s the impostor everyone knows right away. 
“It’s not me, guys!” And then he proceeds to sneeze and everyone votes him out.
Him and Jamie stick together because they don’t know what else to do. When he’s a crew mate, he’s one of the first killed because he spends so much time trying to find his way around the map.
Ell does his best to get all of his tasks done so that the others will have a chance at winning. 
Him and Jamie vibe in the dead chat. While everyone’s accusing one another, they’re just chilling. It’s honestly kind of fun.
Sometimes he’ll follow Youssef around when the two of them are in the same game. He’s learning so much from his older peers. If only he could actually get better at his gameplay. 
Youssef is really nice about it, too. He’s more than willing to help Ell in finding his tasks. That makes Ell very happy.
He tried to use the vents once and Licht caught him. 
His go-to color is cyan because it reminds him of a clear sky, and he wears the halo hat.
🐴 Jamie 🐴
Just like Ell, he’s also not good at the game. 
Jamie can’t wrap his head around all of the tasks and locations. He was downloading files and someone killed him. Now he’s stuck floating around the map as a ghost. 
“What just happened? Am I dead?”
He’s so confused.
Jamie stops and checks the map religiously so he can make it to his tasks. He’s always passing electrical trying to find the wires. 
When he was the impostor, he didn’t understand anything other than kill the crew mates. So he did just that and it failed miserably.
“What’s venting? What am I supposed to do with these fake tasks? I need the real tasks, right?”
Everyone votes him out as soon as they hear him say that during the meeting. They don’t even need to debate the location of the dead body.
It’s not his fault he can’t adapt to how fast the game moves. One minute he’s trying to swipe the keycard and the next thing he sees is Ethan twisting his avatar’s neck. He’s doing his best, though.
His go-to color is yellow, and he wears the bird nest hat.
💋 Licht 💋
He’s definitely flirting with the manager through voice chat. It doesn’t matter if the game’s ongoing; he’s going to make a few sly remarks regardless.
“If we win, we should go out to celebrate. Just you and me, darling.”
Licht just doesn’t shut up when he’s playing. Even when everyone’s supposed to silently work on their tasks, he’s busy starting a conversation with the air. No one ever replies, though the manager has begun to humor him.
He’s so upbeat and encouraging—usually just flirty half of the time—that the others have trouble figuring out whether he’s the impostor or not.
Licht’s actually pretty good at keeping his role a secret. That is, until the manager makes a comment.
“Wow! Who’s the imposter this time? They’re really good!” To which, Licht responds with, “Thank you, darling. You’re not so bad yourself.”
Kind of sus of him to say that, and nearly everyone votes for him. Even if he’s not the impostor, he still responds to the manager’s compliments.
He’ll follow the manager around when he’s a ghost, internally hoping they won’t get killed. It’s better to watch and listen as they try to work through the evidence they’ve found.
When they are killed, he tries to make their ghosts kiss. Licht seems to be playing a different type of game.
His go-to color is purple, and he wears the cherry hat.
Day Team (Die)
🎹 Theo 🎹
He’s glued to June so much throughout the game that everyone suspects he’s the impostor. But he’s just trying to protect June. He wants to be able to vouch for his friend in case the others plan on voting him out.
Theo’s actually decent at Among Us. He’s able to study the map and then follow it to his destination. He’s one of the first to finish his tasks so that he can help lead June to his.
When he’s an impostor, he won’t kill June or the manager. The rest of the Reapers are fair game, though. 
He’s surprisingly good at being the impostor. One time he and Nine were the impostors and he sabotaged the entire game. He made everyone vote out Nine so that he could win and impress the manager with his gaming skills.
He’s kind of scary when he plays. There’s a cold calculation in that warm expression of his, and it’s rather deceptive.
He goes after Nine the most. R.I.P. to Nine if he ever finds himself in the same lobby as Theo.
Theo has no problems defending himself, June, or the manager during the discussions. He always seems to have a solid alibi. If he’s put on the spot, he’s calm and collected about it, listing out his tasks and everything else that makes him innocent.
He’ll use the vents only when he needs to. Theo likes to sabotage the oxygen and the lights because it’s convenient. 
He once mistook June for someone else and killed him. That made Theo incredibly sad. :(
His go-to color is blue, and he wears the chef hat.
🌹 Louis 🌹
He’s not against playing video games if it’s with his friends. But too much screen time can be bad for the eyes and complexion. Besides, why look at a bright screen when he can ogle at his reflection all day? Truly, the latter is far prettier.
He’s not good at the game, but he’s also not bad either. Louis can do his tasks, vouch for those who were with him, and explain where he was when the body was found—albeit with his usual dramatic flair. 
“Ethan, why are our names red, but the others aren’t? Perhaps we’re special? Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less than perfect for someone such as myself!”
Ethan’s about ready to strangle him when Louis pulls mindless stuff like that.
Unlike the others, who play to win or to impress the manager, Louis plays for fun. He doesn’t care much about winning or losing. It’s the enjoyment that matters the most, right?
Louis tends to get distracted when he’s playing. The reason for that, you may ask? He noticed himself in the mirror and is now dedicating his time to admiring his features.
When this happens and he goes AFK, he’s killed. When he’s the impostor and he gets sidetracked, he completely forgets about killing.
He’s also vibing in the dead chat, spreading words of encouragement to himself. No one understands what he’s complimenting himself on, but at least Louis seems content.
Louis might not play as often as the others, but he still sets aside time for it. Though that time may get interrupted by his endless self-love.
His go-to color is white, and he wears the crown hat.
♞ Ethan ♞
He plays with intense strategy. 
Ethan likes to cut to the chase during the meetings in order to weed out the impostors. 
“I’ll keep it simple. Name your tasks and your exact location before the body was reported.” He takes the lead in most of the meetings.
He’s very diligent with his tasks. Those who don’t complete their tasks are on his radar. 
When he’s the impostor, he goes for those who are the easiest to kill off. Either that, or they’re just useless. Louis almost always finds his character dead at the hands of Ethan. 
He’s not too shabby for an impostor. Ethan knows how to use the vents to his advantage, and he never seems bothered when the others accuse him. He keeps his tone in check, so no one knows if he’s telling the truth or not.
Video games may not be a hobby of his, but he doesn’t mind playing them with the manager if that’s what they want.
When he and the manager are the impostors, they’re an unstoppable force.
He can’t believe he actually enjoyed even a second of Among Us, yet here he is. 
His go-to color is red, and he doesn’t bother with wearing a hat.
💥 June 💥
June loves playing Among Us! Not only is it fun, it also reminds him of some elements in those noir films he likes so much. A mystery is more fun when it’s played out amongst your friends.
In the beginning, he was a tad clumsy with his tasks and his role as either a crew mate or an impostor. He’s just trying to get the hang of things, but it didn’t necessarily work out in his favor.
He prefers being a crew mate over the impostor because he likes trying to figure out who’s guilty. It makes him feel like the main character of a mystery-action film.
Sometimes he’ll say the wrong things when he’s the impostor. But in the heat of the moment, he’s just excited to play more.
“It couldn’t have been me! I was hiding in the vents! Haha!”
June once received lots of baked goods from Theo a day after they all played. Theo claimed he had wrongfully killed his friend and wanted to make up for it, but June had already forgotten about that incident.
June doesn’t really suspect anyone whenever he plays. He’ll just go along with what the others say, working off of their evidence to create a conclusion of his own.
He enjoys it when the manager is in the lobby because it means they’ll be able to play together.
When June and Louis are dead, they’re typing to each other through the chat, bonding and having a grand time. They seem to forget about the game and just talk about whatever until one side wins.
His go-to color is orange, and he wears the sheriff hat.
87 notes · View notes
rwbyconversations · 4 years ago
Text
The Scarlet Letter: Let’s talk about RWBY’s male LGBT rep
I have been sitting on this post for nearly four weeks waiting until the 15th due to the Before the Dawn spoiler rules.
So let's start with a blunt statement: RWBY's male LGBT representation has not been good. If the series' handling of female LGBT rep is good (which... well there's worse shows) and the general standard for how you write LGBT characters in a show like this, its handling of male rep has been... how not to. And Before the Dawn kinda solidified the idea in my head that the show's handling of its male LGBT cast just isn't good enough, either by the standards of when RWBY began in 2013, or today in 2020 when compatively massive steps have been taken over the past decade to show a more diverse list of characters... or at least a more diverse list of female characters.
I don't wanna make this a pissing match over how over-or-under-represented male or female LGBT characters are, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of the trend-setters for modern romances, especially in western animation, have been between women. Korra and Asami from Korra, Chloe and Max from Life is Strange, Marceline and Bubblegum in Adventure Time, (insert the relevant Steven Universe characters here, never watched it), and more recently, Adora and Catra in She-Ra and Luz in Owl House.
Compatively, while studies have shown that in general male LGBT characters get more appearances on a purely numerical level, in general they're more one-off characters there to pad a roster, or played more for comedy (see Josh Gad in the Beauty and the Beast remake or the gay guy in Avengers Endgame that was more notable for how hard China and Russia snapped him out of existance). The only big male-LGBT focused media I can think of from the last decade would be Yuri On Ice, Moonlight, IDW's Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye (Chromedome/Rewind best pairing fuck you Roberts for issue 16) Love Simon, and the anime adaptation of Banana Fish.
So it's no surprise that RWBY basically follows these ideas. It's big romance is (unless the writers are very stupid) going to be between Blake and Yang, their first out character was Ilia, Coco got sent to the Book Dimension where she confirmed "I use my sunglasses to perv on women without their knowledge" which uh... yeah you can definitely tell RWBY is written by men... and Volume 6 had Saph and Terra being a good example of an LGBT couple without any real drama. In the last three years alone, the show has drastically increased its lesbian and bisexual characters, alongside even including its first out trans character in May Marigold (albeit only revealed on Twitter). In general, these depictions of sexuality have been pretty OK. Would have liked it if Ilia wasn't immediately written out of the show after Volume 5 as it made her feel a bit more disposable than intended but whatever, subject for another day.
RWBY's male rep though is a bit spottier. There's the plant bois in Volume 5's premiere, we nearly had Pilot Boi until some last-minute revisions, and... Scarlet.
Tumblr media
Why Scarlet's a bad launchpad for male LGBT rep
I don't like Scarlet or how his sexuality has been handled. Scarlet's homosexuality wasn't revealed in the show, or by the writers, or even in anything that's actually canon. He's confirmed gay in his sole of dialogue in a non-canon fan anthology, where the manga's Twitter team had to say that Miles suggested the idea and approved of it.
In short, Scarlet is Dumbledore'd, where his sexuality is revealed in out-of-show material and in a way that doesn't make it supremely obvious (Miles himself never commented to confirm this so this news was limited in how far it could spread. I'm genuinely curious how many people still don't know Scarlet's gay), and Scarlet himself is a nothing character who was written out of the show after Volume 3 and only reappeared in Before The Dawn, half a decade after he vanished. Compared to Ilia, as this came out after Ilia's entire arc in Volume 5, it's not a great starting point for mlm rep. But things would have been forgiven if it had gotten better, if the show did have more male LGBT characters introduced, even just on the Saphron/Terra level of just being around for a few episodes before leaving. Then it would have been a misfire but then we could all say "Things got better."
It... didn't. Which is why when Before the Dawn released in 2020, a full two years after Scarlet was first confirmed gay, while the franchise had more than doubled its wlw rep, Scarlet remained the one male character in the entire franchise who had a name and liked men. I remember vividly a fake leak for After The Fall which claimed Yatsuhashi would come out to Velvet and admit to having a crush on Fox. And I remember as well how many people were disappointed when it was said to be false, because it would have been nice for Yatsuhashi's character, especially after the fleshing out he gets in the CFVY books. If Yatsu had come out as gay in the books I'd like his writing enough to say he's a good case for rep, albeit with the caveat of "This is all in side material." But in reality, the leak was fake and Coco was confirmed gay instead.
Unfortunately, Before the Dawn proceeded to ruin Scarlet and made me at times feel genuinely uncomfortable as a queer man! Let's talk about that.
Before The Dawn is crap and Scarlet's writing is borderline offensive
I hate Before the Dawn. It's... bad. I read it while on a vacation and the only solace I had about the entire thing was that I'd bought an M&M chocolate bar. The bar was finished before the book. That bummed me out. It's not a very well written book, the prose is very Early 2010s YA Writer, none of the characters are memorable and there's various Fun Incidents like "NGDO using children as bait for Grimm," and "Neptune's hydrophpobia being used as a threat to torture him and the scene is played for comedy."
Theo was cool. I can't wait to see him as written by good writers, he should be a highlight of the Vacuo arc.
I had two hopes for Before the Dawn- "Don't be bad," and "Let Scarlet and Sage be well written." I'd liked how After The Fall had handled some of its characters (barring, y'know, Coco perving on women), especially Fox and Yatsu who were surprising in how much I liked them. I was looking forward to seeing Myers give Sage and Scarlet similar treatment- two relatively nothing characters meant he'd have a blank slate to write them however he wanted, he could give them unique personalties and if nothing else it could be cool to see their Semblances.
And then I read the book. (Sage fans I am so sorry for you, you got baited harder than Johnlock fans)
Scarlet's a giant dickhead in the book. It's his sole character trait and his inner monologues go on, and on, and on about how much he hates Sun, how he revels in mocking him. Most of his dialogue is sarcastic put-downs about Sun and how lame he is, and Sun is never properly allowed to defend himself or point out how going with Blake meant he was able to help save Haven Academy.
(hey remember when Sun in Volume 6 expressly says to Blake "I was a bad leader for ditching Neptune and the others, and I need to work on that" only for Before the Dawn to have him staunchly refuse to accept that he let the team down? I don't think Myers did but I do)
Scarlet being a ratty bitch would be one thing if, again, the franchise had done more rep. He'd still be a badly written character, but it wouldn't sting as much. But because Scarlet is still the only expressly confirmed male LGBT character in canon (the book teases that Nolan is gay but there's never confirmation either way beyond him smiling at Scarlet), it means that he has to represent that entire ideal. So when the one gay man in Remnant is being an asshole and a snide loser, that means that by extension, this is how the franchise sees gay men. And that fucking sucks! I wanted to come out of Before The Dawn singing its praises, I wanted to like the book, but it was a massive letdown, especially coming off of the other big 2020 RWBY controversy involving gay characters.
Yeah. We're doing this.
Tumblr media
Clover and Fair Game: Technically not queerbaiting. BUT:
Let's pre-empt this: Clover wasn't queerbaiting, and Fair Game, while cool and I dig it, kudos to them for becoming one of the top 5 RWBY pairings on AO3 in one year that's fucking impressive (I say with mild malice as an IronQrow main), never had a chance. The writing never seriously boosted it barring one interaction which was flirty (them talking in the lobby of the Schnee Manor), and everything else was out of show boosting through the social media teams and CRWBY hyping it themselves by saying they liked it. If you wanna blame people, blame the animators who went off-script with stuff like Kim Newman adding the wink as a deliberate nod to the Volume 4 waitress, or the social media team deliberately using the same policies for Fair Game as they do for Renora and Bumblebee.
Tumblr media
It wasn't Eddy's fault that things escalated, and he himself has said that in retrospect, he should have warned people that this never had a shot.
But I can't blame the Fair Game fanbase. Because Fair Game took off like wildfire. It came right as the fanbase began seriously asking for more male rep, Qrow's pretty hot, and the Clover wink came right after the Great IronQrow Reawakening of November 9th, 2019. The rocket was primed, and they rode it to the moon. Finally, to these people, after seven years RWBY seemed to be doing something with mlm rep in show. People started getting into RWBY just for Clover and Qrow's interactions. And if heroes were boring, Watts and Tyrian also had a fantastic dynamic that made Nuts and Volts one of the more popular villain ships overnight. Things seemed to be turning around! RWBY was remembering that gay men existed! You could hear the choir sing!
... And for those people, that meant that episode 12 hit like Truck-Kun.
Tumblr media
People got pissed. People were horrified. And it didn't help that some members of CRWBY had said in the build-up that episode 12 would have some shots that made them nauseous (probably the Tyrian thumb thing) Out of context, it looked to these fans like CRWBY were basically laughing at their suffering, like they were saying "Lol, you thought you had a chance, get fucked, I hope your vomit burns on the way up."
Yeah, Fair Game was never gonna be canon, and I think some people ran too far with it. But in the wider context of how desperate RWBY's mlm community had gotten for basic crumbs of content? I can see why they'd run with what they had. The writers aren't at fault for what happened, but CRWBY didn't help matters. And that desperate mix of what felt like official backing from the crew, jokes about how cute the ship was, and the hope that finally the show would have onscreen rep? I can see why people ran with it.
So why is the show more lackluster in depicting mlm characters?
Money. Let's be honest, most RWBY fans don't care if the show doesn't have good male rep. I'm willing to bet some of you reading this won't care and just dismiss it as not being that big a problem. I don't think the writers care if the show doesn't have good mlm rep because they're not poaching that market. They're after what they see as a bigger, more lucrative market, which in this case is female LGBT rep. That gets people buying games, watching shows, raising awareness and boosting awareness of your property, which means you make more money. In short: Two women kissing hits more markets and generates more attention than two men.
Am I saying that Miles, Monty and Kerry deliberately sat down seven years ago and said "We're not doing gay men because it won't generate enough ad revenue and traffic to be worth the loss in revenue from homophobes?" No, that's silly. But I'm saying that it's less important for them, and it shows in the things that are small and add up. Things like Miles not verifying Scarlet's sexuality or retweeting the manga account's confirmation to spread the message (compared to how he enthusiastically confirmed Ilia being a lesbian himself during the Reddit AMA). It shows in how Pilot Boi would have been the first mlm character only to die in his second full episode until M&K were told about the Bury Your Gays trope. It shows in how Shannon believes that Ozma is "megaqueer" and Miles jokingly laughs it off instead of confirming it, leaving it to just be Shannon's headcanon. It shows in how actor shipping is compared between the mlm and wlw ships, where Arryn and Barbara's frequent pushes for Bumblebee are seen as "official confirmation that it's endgame" while Michael and Kerry saying they enjoy Seamonkeys is treated as "well it would be cute if they did it, but they're never going to."
I'm not gonna say anything like "CRWBY are gonna have Qrow end up with a woman like Robyn out of spite against the bad apples of the Fair Game crowd." I'm not gonna say that I don't think CRWBY cares about male representation in the series. It is, however, definitely a low priority for them, and because that leads to gaffes like Scarlet's writing in Before The Dawn being offensive in his depiction, it only makes the contrast between the sexes all the more painfully apparent.
I'm kinda tired of waiting for Rooster Teeth to show that they do care about mlm. I'm kinda tired of RWBY's male rep being written like it came from a 1993 time capsule where I have to enhance the screen to see a guy holding a sign of Sun's abs or be content with the only onscreen rep still being the plant bois in Volume 5. I'm tired of how often the crew dances around answering basic questions about sexuality (and age, and birthdays, and heights, and so on) by treating it as a spoiler question, as if just wanting to know what way people swing would ever be a spoiler. I'm just... tired of all this. When the best mlm rep in Rooster Teeth's history remains the two dads in Camp Camp who show up in a few episodes, that should say something really bad about your company and your biases (To say nothing of the recent Red vs Blue seasons and their blatant queerbaiting for Grif and Simmons and the whole can of worms that is Donut).
I'd like to not feel like I'm borderline unwelcome because I'd like to see two men in this show kiss, and that the sole thing that represents people like me in this show is some British twat who complains about sand.
I'd just like to feel like my sexuality isn't a joke to Rooster Teeth (or at the very least, be like Donut and have it be a funny one). But at this point after the last few years? I feel like a very uncomfortable punchline to them. And it just sucks.
98 notes · View notes
lynelovespopculture · 4 years ago
Text
THE  CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 14-A SPELLMAN FAMILY SOLSTICE
Tumblr media
 Faustus and Zelda had a long recovery in front of them.  Faustus had only awakened 1 hour before his wife so they were healing at the same time. They both were assigned to complete bed rest for the next 3 weeks. In that time, they rested, snuggled together, and watched the defeat of Blackwood video numerous times. They both agreed that there was no foolproof way to get rid of Blackwood forever; they had to just keep their guard up and hope for the best. Zelda also told Faustus how Lilith had reclaimed hell for herself and found happiness with a new Adam. After the 3 weeks of bed rest, Faustus and Zelda were up and around and just in time to help celebrate Sabrina’s 18th birthday. (Since this was Sabrina’s last year at home before college, new rules were set. Thursday nights were family dinner night, absolutely no excuses for not attending, and Sunday was family movie night.)
Later that week, Faustus and Zelda managed to find some time to sit down with just the twins to have a serious talk about the adoption. Zelda explained that this adoption was less about guardianship, as the twins were almost 17, but more of a show of commitment to be their mother. Zelda nodded with understanding when they told her that they wanted time to think about it. Yet, there was 1 issue that the male twin didn’t need to think about at all. Just like his sister, Judas wanted to forget about his life with Blackwood. Soon enough, he confessed that he hated the name of Judas, so with his parents’ full support, changed his name to Jacob.  It wasn’t long at all until he was used to the family calling him Jake. 3 days later, Faustus took Zelda for a romantic dinner in the fanciest restaurant in town. As they clinked their wine glasses together, Faustus explained that it was the 1st anniversary of him being free from the curse. Hearing this, Zelda re-clinked the glasses.
“To the first of many, many years,” She smiled.
They went home, and make wild, passionate love before drifting off in each other’s arms. Late that night, Zelda turned around and found herself alone in bed. She caught Faustus at the entrance of the attic, which Ambrose and Jake now shared.
“I still can’t believe we’re all home now,” Faustus whispered as his wife linked her arm with his. With a kiss, Zelda led him back to their room, where they made love for the 2nd time that night.
  Their 1st solstice all together as a family was a very special one. LJ and Jake were both all smiles as together, they handed Zelda a gift. After wrapping it, Zelda gasped, for the box was filled with papers, but not just any papers. On top were the half-filled adoption papers and beneath that, were papers for legal name changes. The twins explained that not only did they want to be adopted but they were also ready to become Spellmans. All the family couldn’t agree fast enough. Zelda did a pretty good job of blinking back her tears of joy, or she did, right up until the twins called her ‘mom’ for the very 1st time. This happened right after Zelda gave LJ and Jake their Yule present. A thick photo album filled with pictures of their birth mother, Constance, at every stage of life so the twins could look at it whenever they wished.
In the new year, after Hilda and Dr. C celebrated their 1st anniversary and Zelda filed the paperwork for the twins’ adoption and name changes, plans went full steam ahead for LJ and Jake’s joint dark baptism. Jake kept it simple, by picking Jacob Faustus for his baptismal name. LJ’s was longer. LJ explained that her name was to be Letitia Judith Constance Zelda.
“To honor both my mothers.” LJ smiled and Zelda kissed the girl on the head, blinking back happy tears once more.
The baptism, attended by family and coven alike, went off without a hitch. For the next few months, the Spellmans’ lives were blissfully quiet and uneventful. Their lives revolved around work, school, and most importantly, each other. On April 2nd, the whole family gathered to celebrate Cordelia’s first birthday. They threw a party, of course, with cake and gifts but it was Faustus and Zelda who got the best present that day. It was later that night after they readied Cordelia for bed, they sat Cordelia down in front of her crib as they did for the last 3 weeks. It was normal when Cordelia pulled herself up to the crib with her tiny hands but then something new happened. Cordelia took her hands off the crib and took her 1st few unsteady steps towards Zelda. She playfully touched her mother’s cheek before saying her 1st word loud and clear. “Mommy!” After kissing her daughter silly, Zelda turned Cordelia around so she could walk to Faustus. The baby took 3 steps before she stumbled on the 4th and would have fallen but Faustus managed to catch her. He was rewarded with a giant smile. “Daddy!”
 Spring and summer flew by and before anyone knew it, it was September again. Everyone came out to see Sabrina and LJ, who graduated a year early, off to college. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. When she was 3 and big enough for a big girl bed, Cordelia was given Sabrina’s room by her still at college cousin. The following year, Hilda, Faustus, and Sabrina convinced an uneasy Zelda to allow Cordelia to attend mortal kindergarten, just like Sabrina before her. Cordelia’s parents sat her down and explained to her not to talk about witches or use magic at school. They also kept their promise to the witch’s council, to keep them updated on Cordelia’s magical development. Yet, there was little to report. The baby who cried the devil out of the house was growing up as normally as any other little witch, except for a slammed door or a few floating items. Her powers were at their strongest when her emotions were at their peak.  One afternoon, Cordelia wanted to play outside but Hilda explained she couldn’t because it was raining, hard.
“I don’t want it to rain!” As soon as Cordelia stamped her foot, the sun came out. Hilda stared wordlessly, yet Cordelia didn’t even seem to notice. It was on the 1st day of school that Cordelia met Erin, Emily, and Erica Warner, mortal triplet girls who quickly became her BFFs. Meanwhile, with his youngest now in school, Faustus was feeling a little lost.  Ambrose and Jake formed the perfect team to run the funeral home together and the rest of the family were busy with their own thing. 1 night, Zelda suggested her husband should return to teaching. Zelda knew she got through to him and was waiting for Faustus to ask her to return to the academy. So, she was shocked when he told her he gotten a job at Greendale middle school, teaching 7th grade. Theo Putnam was also a new teacher.
 It was a cold night in the late December of Cordelia’s sixth year that the child awoke with a start.
“Who’s there?” She demanded with the greatest demand she could mutter as she sat up and looked around the darkened room. She looked around and saw nothing, yet she felt someone was nearby. Cordelia sighed, this wasn’t a new feeling. She pulled back her blankets and got up. Might as well go to the bathroom while I’m awake. She thought.
“Hey, Salem.” Cordelia petted Sabrina’s familiar on her way back to bed. Then she picked up her favorite doll, tucked it under her arm, sighed as she laid down, and closed her eyes.
 The next thing she knew, sunlight tickled at Cordelia’s eyelids. 1 quick look at the clock and she jolted out of bed and down the hallway. Her own school had let out for Christmas yesterday, but the academy was a year-round boarding school that demanded much of its headmistress. Cordelia felt that she spent less than 10 minutes with her mother all week. Maybe it was still early enough to catch her. She stopped short in her parents’ doorway. Not only was no one in here, but the bed was made and everything was neat, suggesting that both her parents left long ago.
“It's not even 9 yet! Well, so much for that idea.” Cordelia muttered as she headed for the steps. Downstairs, Cordelia found her brother fluttering back and forth before the front door as if he was preparing to go out. “Where’re you going, Jake?” she asked from the stairway.
Jake looked up, pausing as he put on his coat. “Good morning, Cordy. Mom just called, she needs someone to fill in for her with the choir ASAP.”
“Mom’s already at the school?”
Unfortunately, Jake was too busy to notice the sadness in his sister’s tone. “Yeah. Bye.”
Cordelia was left to frown at the closed door when the wonderful smells finally reached her nose. Those smells only appeared when someone special visited. Now wearing a tiny smile, the 6-year-old ran into the kitchen and hugged the visitor from behind. “Hi, auntie H!”
Hilda, who was baking, half-turned and gave her niece a 1 arm hug. “Hello, darling.”
From his stool 3 feet away, Ambrose waved. “Hello, cousin.”
“Hello, another Spellman who no longer lives here.” Cordelia teased good-naturedly and Ambrose laughed. He and Prudence had only moved into a small apartment together downtown 3 months ago.
Meanwhile, Hilda wiped her hands on a towel. “It’s cereal alright for breakfast?”
Cordelia smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”
“So, Cordy, how did you sleep?” Asked Ambrose.
“Good! For the most part.”
Ambrose and Hilda exchanged a look. “For the most part?” repeated her aunt.
“Ghostbusting again, cuz?”
Cordelia gave Ambrose an annoyed sideways glance. “No, Ambrose. Ghostbusting would imply that I actually see the spirit.”
Ambrose was now confused. “Wait, you don’t see the ghosts? Ever? But you had this problem for a while.”
“Since before feasts of feasts as I recall,” Hilda added.
“I don’t understand. If you can’t see them, how do you know they’re ghosts?”
Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know, it’s just a feeling. Most girls my age are scared of ghosts; I just want them to make up their minds! They should show themselves, tell me what the problem is so I can help or just let me be so I can sleep at night.”
Hilda and Ambrose both had nothing to say so they just stared at the girl. Cordelia sighed, what was needed now was a change of subject and she found it on the serving tray. “Who pops popcorn this early in the morning?”
Ambrose sprang to life. “Oh, I almost forgot!  I was supposed to bring out the cranberries and popcorn to Dr. C and Uncle Faustus. They finally setting up the Yule tree!” Ambrose grabbed the tray and rushed out of the kitchen.
“Well, I got to go too,” Cordelia announced.
“Why?” Asked Hilda.
“Because my bowl of cereal was on that tray!”
Hilda laughed, shook her head, and returned to her baking.
 “I swear, we get this tree up later and later every year.” Faustus sighed.
“Well, we’re busy men,” Dr. C assured him. “Me at my bookstore, you at the middle school. Here comes Ambrose, at last.”
Faustus smiled as the younger warlock rushed in. “We were beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”
“I’m so sorry that it took me so long,” Ambrose said.  “Aunt Hilda and I got to talking and then Cordelia walked in.”
“Oh? Cordy’s up?”
“I sure am!” The child was right on Ambrose’s heels. She was closer to Dr. C so she greeted him first. “Hi, Uncle C” She hugged him and then went over to her father. “Hi, Daddy” she giggled when Faustus kissed the cheek of his youngest child. The 2 men went back to trying to steady the tree, as Ambrose found a chair and began to thread the popcorn and cranberry strings together. After reclaiming her breakfast, at last, Cordelia sat on the sofa and asked about the only thing on her mind.
“How long ago did Mom leave for the academy this morning?”
“About an hour and a half to 2 hours ago” Faustus answered casually. “Why? Do you need her?”
Cordelia frowned. “No, I don’t need her per say, but I do miss her. It’s like I barely have seen her this week.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” Faustus soothed his daughter. “While it’s true that Solstice demands more of the high priestess’s time than normal, all she has to do is get through today and perform tomorrow’s midnight mass then Zelda will be free to spend the rest of the holidays with us.”
“Don’t forget when we go get the girls tomorrow.” Dr. C added. “Zelda would never miss that.”
Although both LJ and Sabrina left for college 6 years ago, the girls were still away for their education but for different reasons. Unlike Jake, who left a year after his sister and cousin and return 2 years later, business degree in hand. Poor Sabrina was having a tough time, having changed her major 3 times. On the flip side, LJ had not only completed university in record time but was enrolled in 2 different medical schools. When done, LJ would not only be 1 of the few female witch doctors, she would also be the 1st witch doctor trained in mortal medicine. With a sister on her way to glory and her mother already in the history books as the 1st high priestess, Cordelia was extremely proud of her family and sometimes wondered if greatness lay in her future as well.  Having finished her breakfast, Cordelia now lay the now-empty bowl on the coffee table and went to the old cardboard box that held the tree decorations.  After a few seconds of digging around, Cordelia was able to her favorite one. It was a diamond full moon on 1 side and the other side was a picture frame. The picture itself was taken on her 1st solstice. It was of Zelda, Faustus, and Cordelia herself, when she was still just a baby. While Cordelia stood admiring the photo, Dr. C lost his balance on the step stool and bump into the girl, causing her to lose her grip on the glass moon and it smashed on the floor.
Dr. C rushed to the child’s side. “Oh Cordelia, I’m so sorry!” He hugged her.
Cordelia put on a brave face. “It’s okay, uncle C. We have lots of others.”
As they spoke, the fragments of the glass moon float up in the air and magically fixed itself.
“But this 1 is your favorite,” Faustus held it in the palm of his hand. “I know because it’s my favorite too.”
Cordelia smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
  Putting up the tree nearly took all day. Cordelia was excused because right after lunch, the Warner triplets called their friend to come with them to go to the mall to see Santa. Cordelia was gone all afternoon and returned just in time for dinner yet her mood seemed to change. She was quiet and seemed angry. At first, Hilda thought her niece was annoyed because Zelda called to say that she was too busy to come home for dinner.  Then, in the middle of supper, Jake knocked over a glass of water. On the other side of the table, his baby sister jumped up in horror.
“You should be more careful!” She shouted before she ran out of the room. Faustus and Hilda found Cordelia in her room pacing back and forth before her bed. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!” She muttered to herself.
“Cordy? What’s wrong?” Faustus asked.
His daughter looked up, frowning. “You should have told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“THAT OUR KIND CAN MELT!!”  Cordelia shouted.
Faustus and Hilda exchanged a confused look. “Cordelia, love,” Hilda said gently, “what exactly did you and your friends do this afternoon?”
Cordelia sighed. “After the trip to the mall to see Santa, Mr. Warner invited me back to their house for hot chocolate and it was there that Erin, Emily, Erica, and I watched a movie.”
“What movie?” Her father asked.
“The Wizard of Oz.”
Both Faustus and Hilda felt instant relief. Hilda left to go inside the bathroom while Faustus took his daughter by the hand, guided her to the bed, so they could both sit down.
“Darling, while it’s true the mortals have short lives, while we witches can live for centuries and centuries. Surely, we can’t live that long if we are in danger of something as common as water.”
“But in the movie-“
“The movie is not real. It’s pretend, make-believe. You remember when you, Mommy, and I had our talk about make-believe?”
Cordelia nodded. “I remember, but it’s so confusing! After all, mortal parents tell their children that witches are make-believe.”
Faustus nodded. “That’s true but I can prove I’m right! Think back to every mass you attended, all the times Zelda took you with her to the academy, have you ever, after all that time with the coven, even seen a green witch?”
“No. Hey, wait  a second, I didn’t tell you that the witch was green! How did you know?”
Faustus laughed. “The Wizard of Oz is a very famous movie and you’re not the 1st witch to get spooked by water after seeing it. I guess you could call it a witch childhood rite of passage by now.”
“Your father’s right,” said Hilda, coming toward the bed, glass in 1 hand. “When your cousin Sabrina saw that movie, she reacted the exact same way you did. That’s when Zelds and I came up with the test.”
“Test? What kind of test?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.” When Cordelia didn’t move and kept staring at the glass, Hilda tried again. “What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?”
This softened Cordelia immediately. “Of course I do, Auntie H.” The child got off the bed and came forward and Hilda knelt down to look her niece in the eye. “Now just give me 1 of your fingers.” Cordelia offered up a finger. Hilda took it and put the tip of the finger just under.  “Now, how does that feel?”
“Wet.” Was the child’s only reply.
Hilda laughed. “Yes, it’s wet, but what else? Does your finger feel like it is going to fall off or melt?”
Cordelia smiled and shook her head.  Hilda smiled. “Good, the test has worked in our favor yet again.”
“Thank Hecate!” Faustus added. “Can you imagine how foul our world would be if none of us would be allowed to bathe?”
Cordelia laughed at her father’s funny face as Hilda kissed her brow.
  A few hours later, Faustus turned down the bed as Cordelia got ready in the bathroom.
“Cordy, have you brushed your teeth yet?”
“Doing it right now, Dad.”
Faustus couldn’t resist. “With water?”
First, there was silence then came a low moan. Faustus smiled to himself.
Cordelia switched off the bathroom light and walked more into her bedroom. “Hecate, I’m dumb,” She muttered.
When she was close enough, Faustus put his arm around his daughter. “You are not dumb. You, my girl, are 6. Considering how you speak and behave most of the time, it’s easy to forget how young you are.”
Cordelia gave a half-smile. “Still young enough to be read to?”
“Not very subtle, miss Spellman.”
Cordelia giggled and crawled into bed as Faustus grabbed the book on the nightstand. Some little girls like fairy tales, most, at least, like a story with a plot. But most nights, Cordelia favored spell books, especially the Latin ones, even though Cordelia didn’t speak the language. She said it soothed her faster. Tonight, Faustus only read a page and a half before Cordelia was fast asleep. He tucked her in and tiptoed out of the room. The next thing Cordelia was aware of; someone was arranging her blankets. Her 1st thought was that the troublesome ghost was back but she was instantly awake when she saw who it really was.
“Mommy! I missed you so much today!” Cordelia sat up and threw herself into Zelda’s arms.
Zelda kissed her brow. “I’ve missed you too, little one. I didn’t mean to wake you, but your father told me that you had a scare today.”
“That’s not important,” Cordelia dismissed. “Will you come with us to pick up LJ and Sabrina tomorrow morning?”
Zelda nodded. “I will, but I must get back to the academy by early afternoon at the very latest.”
Cordelia frowned. “But tomorrow is the day before Solstice. You always spend it with us.”
“I know precious but we’re so behind this year. I mean, the church is not yet decorated or prepared for midnight mass yet.”
“How about I go with you? That way you could get your work and we could still be together.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“No! Wait! Don’t go yet.” Cordelia grabbed her book. “Read to me.”
“It’s late, Cordelia.”
“Please, Mom?”
Normally, Zelda would have held firm but she felt massively guilty about barely being home lately. Zelda sighed and took the book. “Move over.”
An hour later, Faustus went to look for his wife and found Zelda and Cordelia snuggled up together, both fast asleep. Faustus went to Zelda to whisper to her. “It’s late, my love. We’re going to have to leave for the airport, well, in just a few hours now.”
“Mmm,” was Zelda’s only reply.
It was only then that he saw the book. “Did Cordy get another story out of you?”
Again, “Mmm.”
“Dearest, are you asleep?”
“Mmm?”
Faustus smiled. “That’s what I thought.” Gently, he put 1 hand under Zelda’s head and the other 1 under her knees. Then he carried Zelda out of Cordelia’s room and back to their own bed.
 Even though they had only been home a few weeks before for feats of feasts, Sabrina and LJ’s homecoming was a joyful one. At the airport, there was much hugging and kissing, done by all the family. The morning flew by with all their laughing, talking, and catching up. After lunch, most of the family went to the church with Zelda to help set things up, yet Sabrina went for a different reason. All Sabrina had to do was wait for an opportunity to talk to her aunts alone. She got 2 and chickened out both times. Fed up with her own failure, Sabrina teleported herself back to Spellman’s kitchen and groaned.
“Just tell them, you coward!”
The loud whistle of the kettle startled Sabrina. She turned and saw Faustus at the stove,1 of his eyebrows rose. “Something wrong, Sabrina?”
She could feel her eyes watering. “Yes.”
Faustus said the 1st thing that came to mind. “Are you changing your major again?”
Sabrina shook her head. “No, I’m not changing my major. I’m not going back to school at all!” There, she finally said it.
For his part, Faustus got out 2 cups and saucers, poured the tea, and sat down at the table with Sabrina.
“I can’t seem to bring myself to tell Auntie Hilda and Aunt Z. I wasted 5 years, 3 majors, and all that money. My aunties are going to be so disappointed.”
In an effort to comfort his niece, Faustus took Sabrina’s hand in his. “All your aunts have ever wanted for you is to be happy.”
“I tried, I tried so hard.” Sabrina’s lip quivered.
“I know,” Faustus soothed. “Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise,” he suggested. “Maybe, by taking a semester off will help you relax and figure out for sure what you really want to do.”
“But I was sure all those times I change my majors,” Sabrina stressed.
“You know, 1 of my favourite teachers once told me that the secret to professional success is to pick something that you love and are good at.”
“But I don’t know what I’m good for a job.”
“What about helping people? You’re good at that.”
“But that could any career.” Sabrina pointed out.
“How about a therapist? I would be lost without mine.”
Sabrina smiled. “A therapist? Me? You remember I’m the one who causes most of the problems around here?”
“Oh, that was when you were a teenager,” Faustus dismissed. “You’re grown up a lot since then. Besides, if nothing else, the outlook of a half-mortal, half-fallen angel raised by witches is bound to be interesting.”
Sabrina laughed. “True. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks, Uncle Faustus.”
He was shocked. “You’ve never called me uncle before.”
“I know but it’s high time I did.”
 “Dad? I’ve been wondering something for a long time, but I’m not sure how to ask.”
It was late that night and Faustus was readying Cordelia for midnight mass. In his opinion, she looked great. His daughter was wearing a new red dress, her white winter tights, and shiny black Mary Janes. He was now adding the finishing touch of a ribbon in her red hair, exactly like her mother’s. “Cordy, don’t be scared. You know you can ask me anything.”
“Okay, Dad, don’t you believe? I mean, I know that Uncle C isn’t a warlock, so it makes sense that he doesn’t share our faith, but why don’t you believe?”
“But I do believe, sweetheart. I was baptized the night after you were born.”
Cordelia seemed confused. “You were?! Then why don’t you ever attend mass?”
Faustus sighed. “You have to leave in a few minutes and it’s a very long story and I promise that someday we will discuss this in greater detail, but for now all I can tell you that when I was high priest, before you were born, I did things that I am deeply ashamed of. The coven has since forgiven me but I am still weary of being near them.  I do attend mass, in fact, I’m there every week, but I don’t sit up front with the rest of the family, I actually like to sit in the very back pew. I also like to be the last one to arrive and the first one to leave. I like it when the coven doesn’t even notice me.”
Cordelia thought for a moment and then said, “Are you sorry about what you did?”
“Oh, Hecate, yes! I’m sorrier than anyone can ever know.”
Cordelia shrugged. “Then the coven has to forgive you. It’s just good manners.”
Faustus hugged his daughter, grateful for her innocent logic.
   A little later, Cordelia found herself at the church, sitting in the front pew with Hilda, Sabrina, Ambrose, and the twins while Prudence sang in the choir. Even at 6, Cordelia felt proud that it was her mother who performed the service, glorious in her white and gold robes. During the middle of the service, Cordelia took advantage of her end seat and looked toward the back. Sure enough, she found her father, who waved at her. After mass, Cordelia stayed behind to help clean up and help her mother say goodbye to the coven. When they drove home, there a raven haired woman near the stairs. Cordelia didn’t know who the lady was but, judging the way her mother was gripping the wheel, Cordelia guessed her mother did.
“Is she the one who keeps bothering you?” Zelda asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Mom, who is that?”
“Go inside and get dressed for bed, Cordy. It’s late.”
Cordelia did as she was told but she did pick up some bits of dialogue.
“Bright solstice, Zelda.”
“What are you doing here, Lilith?”
“Come now, surely I’m allowed to check up on my son’s future bride.”
That was all Cordelia heard. 10 minutes later, Zelda came into Cordelia’s room to kiss her daughter goodnight.
“Mom?  I heard you and that lady talking. Who’s getting married? Prudence or LJ?”
“No one in this house is getting married!” Zelda declared firmly.
Zelda went to bed mad and woke up even angrier. “I don’t get it, Faustus.” She said to her husband as they went downstairs for breakfast. “We heard or seen nothing of Lilith these past 6 years and the 1st thing she mentions is that stupid marriage contract that I signed in invisible ink and can’t possibly be binding. Lilith knows that! What game is she playing at?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Faustus answered honestly. “Whenever it is, we’ll deal with it together like we always do. Today is solstice. It’s time to celebrate that and the fact that this is your 1st day off in weeks. Then, later on, tonight, I get to show you how terribly I and our bed, have missed you.”  He kissed her hard before they walked into the kitchen, hand in hand.
 According to tradition, the family waited until sundown to gather round the Yule tree and start exchanging gifts. Half an hour later, the get together was in full swing, with music, talking, and laughing all filling the air. It was about this time that Faustus gave Zelda a small blue ring box. Inside was the 6th annual charm that Faustus gave his wife every Yule to go on the bracelet that he had given her on their 1st Solstice that they spent together as a married couple. However, the meaning of this year’s charm was lost on Zelda.
“A white rose?”
Faustus nodded. “A symbol of eternal love.”
Zelda gave a sly smile. “Yours or mine?”
Faustus laughed and stroked his wife’s cheek as he received Zelda’s thank you kiss. Then Faustus stood up and grabbed a skinny gift from under the tree. He passed it to Cordelia.  “Speaking of jewellery, here a little something from your mother and me.” Cordelia smiled as she took the gift and unwrapped it. It turned out be a golden chain with a crescent moon attached, not unlike her own birthmark. She looked up at her parents from her place on the floor.
“I love it! Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom.” Cordelia got up and hugged both her parents.
“May Hecate bless and keep you, my Cordelia.” Zelda smiled at her daughter.
“Amen.”
“Oh, it seems we ran out of music and could use a new Christmas CD.” Hilda sighed.
“I’ll go change it since I’m up.”  Cordelia offered and journeyed to the stereo but before she got there, she passed a window and froze.  She looked very upset.
It was Hilda who first noticed her distress.  “Cordy, darling? What’s wrong?”
“It’s her,” Came her niece’s reply. “The ghost that keeps up me at night. She’s right outside.”
“How do you know? You said you never saw her.” Ambrose pointed out.
Cordelia shook her head. “I never did, but I always felt her just as I feel her now and I’m looking straight at her.”
Faustus got up to collect his daughter.  “Come sit down, sweetheart.  We’ll figure all this out later.” Yet just as he put an arm around Cordelia, he looked out the window and saw the ghost too. “Constance?”
“Faustus, may I see you out in the hall for a minute?” Zelda asked as she rose.
 “I think we should let Constance in.”
Faustus couldn’t believe his ears. “What?  Zelda dearest, what are you saying?”
“Well, I think it’s perfectly oblivious why she’s here.”
Faustus nodded. “Yes, she’s here to ruin our family solstice.”
“No,” his wife disagreed, “I think she’s here to see her children, the twins, as is her right.”
“I think you’re giving her too much credit. Don’t you remember how she behaved the last time we made contact with her? You had to bar her from the house!”
“That was over 6 years ago. Maybe she changed.”
“Changed?!” Faustus sneered. “Then why has she  been  bothered Cordy for over a month?”
“Why don’t you go out there and ask her yourself?”
“Fine, I will,” Faustus agreed. “But you’re coming with me.”
A moment later, Zelda and Faustus stepped out onto the frozen porch. Constance was right before them.
“If we allow you into this house, will you abide by its rules and customs?” Faustus asked.
Constance smiled as she nodded. “I will.”
“Come in. You are welcome.” With those simple words, Zelda broke her own spell.
The whole family was shocked when Faustus and Zelda returned with the ghost. Hilda was the 1st to recover.
“Um, Ambrose, Prudence, Sabrina, Cordy, could you come to help me and your uncle C in the kitchen?”
“I think I’ll join you.” Zelda turned to join the family, but Constance called her back. “Please stay, Zelda, there’s something I would like to say to you too.”
“Ok.” Zelda was unsure as she slid into her chair next to Faustus. The twins were sitting on the sofa. Zelda noticed that the twins were holding hands, something they only did when they were really anxious.
“Is it true?”  Jake asked. “Are you really our mother?”
“She’s only our birth mother,” his sister answered him, “Zelda is our real mother.”
“LJ, please!” Zelda didn’t mean it, but her mothering tone came through.
Constance didn’t seem to mind as she stared at the twins and smiled. “You are both so beautiful.”  She touched LJ’s face. “My daughter on her way to becoming a witch doctor!”
Jake lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not a genius like LJ.”
“Are you happy, my son?”
“I am.”
Constance smiled. “That’s all that matters.”
“And we’re safe,” LJ added.
“That’s right,” Jake agreed. “Blackwood is no more.”
Constance smiled. “I know; I’ve been watching you. I’ve been watching all of you.” Constance turned. “Which brings me back to you, Zelda Spellman. I have something important to say to you. Thank you. Ever since you dispatched with Blackwood, you have done everything to make sure that my children felt safe and loved. I can never thank you enough for that.”
LJ got up and walked to Zelda’s side. “Why would even doubt her? She cared for us when we were babies. I mean, this is the same woman who whisked me away at birth and loved me when she didn’t have to.”
You must understand,” Constance stressed. “The last time I saw Zelda; she was heavily pregnant. I thought that she would prefer her own child and become a petty and jealous stepmother to the 2 of you. Just” Constance sighed and cast down her eyes in shame. “Just as I did with Prudence. Happily, that didn’t happen. She loves you as if you were her own.”
“I love them because they are my own,” Zelda said gently, “Just as Cordelia and Prudence are. Perhaps you would have learned this if you’ve survived but a mother’s heart can never be too full.”
“Wait,” Jake was confused. “If all you wanted was to have a peaceful heart-to-heart, then why have you been bothering Cordy all this time?”
Constance looked startled.  “Have I?   I didn’t mean to. Please apologize to her for me.”
LJ leaned in to whisper in Zelda’s ear.  “I guess the divine child’s powers can pick up a rogue ghost better than we can.”
Zelda’s focus was elsewhere at the moment. “Constance, you’re glowing. You’ve never looked better.”
The ghost blushed like a schoolgirl. “Am I? Well, I guess being at peace agrees with me then. You see, I recently re-met a friend from childhood on the other side, and he has been helping me to put aside my anger and bitterness. I’m starting to see things differently now. Zelda, I understand that you didn’t set out to break up my marriage, Faustus’s heart was yours long before I came around. It’s perfectly fine that my children have 2 mothers, as long as they are loved and protected.”
Sensing that her time was up, Constance kissed both her children and turned to leave when
“Wait.” It was the 1st time Faustus had spoken since they had all sat down. Now, he stood and when to the ghost. “Constance, I have never seen you speak so tenderly or behave so kindly. I just to say I’m sorry. We never were a love match but I could have been kinder to you during our marriage. Not pressuring you for a son, been more of a comfort during your miscarriages. Enjoy the happiness you have now; you certainly deserve it. Bright Solstice.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. The lights flicked and then the ghost was gone.
It was when Constance was gone that Jake fell on his knees before Zelda. “We love you, bonus mom.”
LJ hugged her. “We sure do.”
Faustus watched this touching scene for a moment and then turned his attention to the hallway.  “Okay, guys, you can come out now. Don’t think I don’t see you spying over there!”
The guilty gang filed back into the living room and the Solstice celebrations continued.1 hour later, the room was quiet as Ambrose read Charles Dickins’ A Christmas Carol aloud. Fearing that she would too big to do it next year, Cordelia grabbed her favorite blanket and settled herself on Zelda’s lap. She was going to ask if she was too heavy when her mother held her closer.
“Hecate, bless us, everyone,” Cordelia whispered.
18 notes · View notes
the-ic-corner · 4 years ago
Note
How about a fluffy Ante/Theo Christmas fic? I don‘t know maybe with Theo trying to include Ante more into their Milan squad because he sometimes seems to be left out a bit and Theo actually falls in love with this shy and awkward bean?
This one is for the Milan fans! In which Theo mistakes insults for flirting but he gets what he was silently craving. 
It’s the Milan Christmas party! Not the boring dinner with the important people, no, covid took care of that one. This is the real party at Samu’s house with lots of booze and no one over 39 years old. His place is tastefully decorated with red and black Christmas pieces and a big beautiful tree. Zlatan just put a picture of himself on top of the tree. He’s the star, they must not forget.
The squad has done so well, everybody is smiling. Theo and Samu are playing beer pong against Ante and Rade. They’re all pretty bad at it. Theo watches how Samu makes a fool of himself, trying to kick the beer pong ball with his foot. The ball misses the cups entirely and ends up in Ante’s hands. He takes on the challenge as well, but he actually manages to hit the tiny ball just right and it ends up in one of the cups.
“Damn, Ante! Goal! If only you hit the ball on the pitch like that” Theo jokes.
Samu and Rade laugh, Ante gives him a death stare.
Theo realises what he said. Maybe it wasn’t very nice of him to joke about Ante’s lack of goals this season. Oh shit, he looks really angry.
Theo quickly grabs the beer and downs it. When his mouth is full of beer, he can’t accidentally yell out more insults. He really hopes he didn’t hurt Ante. Why is he such an idiot. You don’t make fun of a striker’s goal count.
The game continues. Soon enough, everyone is laughing again. Theo looks at Ante, who downs a drink in record speed. Ante licks his lips and smiles. What a gorgeous smile he has. Theo has never been more relieved to see it.
Right then, Ante throws the ball in the last one of Samu’s and Theo’s cup. They lost. Samu dramatically collapses to his knees, whining about how it’s unfair to play against boys from the Balkan. They tolerate the alcohol much better the skinny Spaniard. The winners on the other side are cheering before heading off to brag about their win to some others.
Losers clean the table. Theo collects the cups and he tells Samu to check on the youngest team members. There’s a lot of hollering coming the living room. He’s heard the boys talk about getting Dani drunk, since his dad is not around tonight. Theo is not against it… but they might have to keep an eye on him a little.
He brings the empty cups to the kitchen to throw away and that’s where he finds Ante again. Ante is looking into the fridge that is filled with beer and a couple of bottles of stronger stuff.
“Hey, do you know if Samu got any snacks?” Ante asks Theo.
“Yeah, they’re in the utility room right here. I’m just going there to throw these away. What do you want to eat?” Theo answers as he pushes the door to the other room open.
Ante follows him into the other room. After Theo throws the cups away, he picks out a bag of chips. Ante hasn’t decided yet.
“Why didn’t he get any sweet stuff. It’s all savoury” Ante mutters.
“Well, because sweets make you too fat” Theo jokes.
Ante looks at him, puzzled. “And chips don’t? And did you just tell me I’m fat?”
Theo freezes, he just insulted Ante again. What’s wrong with him! Ante grabs a bag of popcorn and walks back to the kitchen. Theo quickly follows him.
“Ante, Ante, listen. You’re not fat, I’m sorry” Theo blurts out.
“I know I’m not fat” Ante answers.
“I don’t know why I said that. Didn’t mean to insult you” Theo follows.
“Oh that wasn’t insulting” Ante replies.
“I’m also very sorry for joking about your goals earlier” Theo continues.
“Yeah that was insulting” Ante says calmly.
“I really shouldn’t have said that. You have done so much for the team. We are number one. Also because of you, Ante.” Theo says.
“And that’s what we’re celebrating right now” Ante adds.
“Yes!” Theo says with a smile. “So are we good?” He asks as he opens his arms for a hug.
“We are” Ante answers as he embraces Theo.
Theo holds on just a little too long. Ante may not have a lot of fat, but his body is still very huggable. Ante lets go of him and walks to the door. Theo trails behind him.
“Hey, wanna play another game against me?” Ante asks with a big grin.
Theo contemplates for a second, but then he notices…
“Ante, do you see what’s above you?” Theo says as he steps closer to him.
“A Christmas decoration?” Ante asks.
“Now that’s a mistletoe. And when you stand underneath one, you get a kiss” Theo explains.
“Oh. Well, you can kiss my cheek, I guess” Ante answers as his cheeks turn a little red.
“No it has to be on the lips” Theo says, feeling very courageous.
Ante’s entire face turns red like a Christmas bauble.
“Oh come on, we’ve kissed each other on the cheek before on the pitch. Just a little peck on the lips for Christmas…” Theo continues, as he takes Ante’s glowing face into his hands.
There´s a silence between them and Theo can almost hear Ante´s brain thinking of consequences.
But then Ante gives in, leans forward and kisses Theo’s lips. It’s more than he could wish for, not just a little peck but a firm yet gentle kiss.
16 notes · View notes
jq37 · 4 years ago
Text
The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 16 For Candia (Part 1)
The Second Most Stressful Conversation All Season
The Rocks family sails up to Cola River, concealed in Primsy’s ships with a small contingent of soldiers. As they go, they pick up another set of allies--the remaining knights from Theo’s order.
Ruby gets called to speak with her mom and dad and Cara asks her to close the door behind her. When she speaks, it’s with more candor than she’s ever used with Ruby that we’ve seen. She says that all she’s ever wanted for Ruby was her safety and she tried to secure that by protecting her from secrets but now she is truly a woman grown and the best way to protect her is by sharing secrets, an approach Ruby seems to appreciate. 
Cara fills her in on what she and Amethar learned last episode--Ghee died before she married Amethar. That means she’s still queen, he’s still king, and though Rina is still Amethar’s first born heir, Ruby is also trueborn. 
Ruby asks if they’re going to tell people and Amethar says he wants to wait. Things are heightened right now and it would make things weird in battle. Ruby says that if that’s what he wants, she won’t tell anyone. Ruby also says she doesn’t trust Rina’s people, something Amethar cites as another reason he doesn’t want to tell people yet.
Cara asks Ruby’s opinion on Rina and she says that she thinks she’s dangerous. Cara agrees and Amethar thinks she’s being a little harsh in her assessment but Ruby goes on. She thinks that Rina has tunnel vision in her hatred of the church and there are good people who follow the Bulb (again, Cara is a devout Bulbian). Cara chimes in that Port Syrup is in ruins because of her people. Amethar wants to delay all this talk but Cara drops an absolute banger of a line, “Amethar. The delay of conversation has been perhaps your most cardinal sin.” 
Ruby thinks that maybe Rina can be good but her people are full stop, bad. She didn’t order Port Syrup sacked (good) but it was by her people in her name (bad) and she doesn’t seem super bothered by the collateral damage (also bad). However, she does think that maybe if she wasn’t surrounded by these people, she'd make different choices. 
Cara says that with Rina on the throne, Candia’s future is written in flame. She says that Theo was pretty quick to join up with Rina and asks Amethar what he thinks he’ll do with the new info about his kingship. Amethar thinks he’ll be loyal so she thinks maybe they can tell him but Ruby points out that he’s not good with secrets. Cara says that’s a wise observation. She also says, in not so many words, that this is going to be a dangerous battle and during dangerous battles, sometimes people--like your husband’s pesky half daughter who is bumping your own daughter in the line of succession and has a merry band of war criminals--die.
“Hey, you’re talking about my daughter,” says Amethar.
“I am talking about the future of Candia,” says Cara. 
She tells Ruby that if she doesn’t think it’s a good idea to talk to Theo, that’s fine, but she should listen to her heart. She has the sight for the future to come and “If fortune cannot be on our side, we will have to do what fortune cannot.”
The Most Stressful Conversation All Season
The ship continues to sail upriver. Brennan makes a little roll that he doesn’t announce but seems entirely too pleased about. 
There’s a lot of debate about arriving and attacking and they decide to get to Dulcington late so they have cover but can attack when it starts to get light and have some visability for archers and such. 
It’s the middle of the night as they approach their destination and Rina hears a knock at her door. It’s Swifty and, wouldn’t you know it, he just eavesdropped on a *reaaaaaal* interesting conversation by the royal family (we get a quick cut to Brennan’s mystery-roll). But before he can spill the tea, she stops to tell him (and Gooey who is also there doing the bodyguard thing) that she was *not* about the carnage of Port Syrup. They NEED to be better than that. These people may never accept her but she doesn’t want them to *hate* her. Swifty is like, “lol, about that.” She tells her what he heard--or at least *some* of what he heard. He tell her about the death/wedding timeline and about the fact that they’ve been sitting on the news for a day (leaving out the bits where Amethar defended her and Ruby thought she might be good) and implies that they’re waiting for her to die in battle (something Cara implied in fairness) or kill her themselves (a little more of a leap--but not by much). Rina, not quite seething but something akin to it, says that if they had just told her this information, she would have worked with them seeing as the crown was only ever a means to an end for her but they had to be dishonest with her. Swifty says he’s excited to waste all their enemies during the upcoming battle and, once it’s over, if she wants them to turn their slaughter efforts a little closer to home, she just has to say the word. In response, she says she wants to speak to Theo so she can seek his counsel. She also reiterates that the Port Syrup debacle was a full war crime and shouldn’t have happened regardless of her relationship with the Rocks family (Swifty and Gooey exchange a glance she doesn’t fully parse) and then Gooey gets Theo.
After some weird flirting with Gooey (he makes an appointment to get “slammed big style” [sic] by her), Theo shows up to talk to Rina. She says that she’s been helping the Rocks family a ton in battle but she’s only been rebuffed. Is it worth it? Should she keep helping them? Theo says that he’s known the family for a long time and they’re good people who wouldn’t hurt her. Rina says that Theo is an honorable man and she trusts that even if he doesn’t side with her, he’ll do the honorable thing. Then she tells her what she knows, info that he is, of course, hearing for the first time. On an 18 Insight check, he knows he’s not being lied to and he knows he has a choice to make. He remembers Lazuli, all those years on their first meeting, telling him to think for himself and he amends his earlier statement. He might have spoken too soon about Amethar. He’s reckless, he wishes he could have worked for any of his sisters rather than him, and he clearly doesn’t have love for all of his family based on the way he’s treating her. He’s officially Team Rina (like he kinda was before but even moreso). She makes it official by casting the Dedication version of Ceremony on him and he feels more connected to her than ever before (also +1d4 to all Saving Throws for 24 hours). 
War is Hell (to Recap) 
The group gets into position with a bunch of stealth checks to get ready for their dawn attack. Despite pledging himself to Rina, Theo doesn’t want to work against Amethar and he wants to tell Cumulus. Rina agrees since she doesn’t fully trust her people and she thinks it’s good to bring another trustworthy person in on this.
Right before fighting breaks out, Theo gives the CliffsNotes version to Cumulus (ie: there is some weirdness in the line of succession and the family is plotting without us) and also messages Liam that Rina is potentially in danger, getting back the message that he’ll for sure help protect her. Ruby rolls Insight to see if she can tell Theo’s being weird but with a Nat 20 deception check from him, she’s sure that Theo is loyal to them above all else and would never betray them.  
OK guys, here’s the deal. Almost everything else in this episode is truly just chess. Moving units across the board. Taking out troops strategically. Placing minis. Stuff like that. Not at all interesting to recap or read. So all you really need to know is, “The Rocks family and their numerous allies (cheese sailors manning catapults, monks, Candian fighters) get into position and the fight begins at dawn, with them doing pretty well once it starts.” Pretty much everyone gets to do at least one clutch thing and you can check out the episode if you want more detail than that.
The only really important thing to know is that Kerradin is there, Grissini is there, and Plumbeline is there. In fact, not only is she there, she comes down from the castle walls so she can ride in on her meep chariot and knock Theo prone.  
Unfortunately for her, she hasn’t gotten the news about Peppermint Batman. Three attacks+flanking+sneak attack+favored enemy damage+bursting arrow+hail of arrows=58 damage to Plumbeline immediately.
As she stands over Theo, two crossbow bolts explode through her eyes and she drops down dead.
And that’s it for this episode! Join us next week for the actual finale of a Crown of Candy!
1 Million Years Dungeon
SWIFTY!
Man, Swifty really is the personification of Brennan’s craving for some sweet, sweet PvP action huh?
You homicidal little chaos gremlin, it is BAFFLING that you have the queen’s ear and I hate it.
Things I’m Concerned About
Emily had Rina use the word “fools” and I know that she grew up on the same Disney movies that we did where fools is an antagonist exclusive word. Hate the implications of that!
Do you remember what I said about Cara in her literal first appearance? I generally like her but I’m getting some light Lady Macbeth vibes. Well here we are. It was so weird to see her and Ruby getting along but I really loved the scene. So tense and so careful with every word. (Also, I *knew* that info was going to get to Rina as the conversation was happening and I was bracing for it but it was still like, damn).
We still haven’t gotten to, “Family is exposed, family is vulnerable.”
That look Gooey and Swifty shared? Don’t love that. 
So, as I’ve been concerned about for a while now, we’re gearing up for some PvP. It still doesn’t have to happen but things are getting dicey and lines are being drawn. Theo has made his allegiances known and Cumulus from way back when said he stands with the magic of Candia, not the Rocks family--plus he just pledged his whole order to her. Ruby and Amethar obviously are on the same side if this happens (though you know no one wants to avoid PvP more than him) and I think Liam would be more inclined to stay with the family if it comes to it, though he also doesn’t seem like he’d be down for this.
Continuing on from my last point, if there’s a big PvP fight potentially on the horizon and the other side has a DRAGON and also ALL THE HEALS...mmm, I wouldn’t love that. Oh also, I didn’t mention it in the recap but Rina said she wasn’t gonna waste her spells on Ruby/Amethar anymore which is a SCARY THING for your HEALER to say before the FINAL BATTLE.  
Edit: I forgot to mention (s/o to @fjordgofurther for the sideways reminder)! Because of the way it’s been framed (“we will have to do what fortune cannot”) and because of the poetry of it and, practically speaking, because they’re the two main casters, if it gets to PvP I can see it ending up being Rina and Ruby, head to head and...do not care for that image one bit lemme tell you. 
Five More Things
I am VERY happy that Rina told off her crew about their casual war crimes because it would have dropped by opinion of her HUGELY if she was just chill about it. 
I don’t want to downplay the amount of work that went into the battle stuff in this ep. There were a lot of cool large scale battle mechanics and home rules for fighting with troops and letting them use your abilities and stuff. But it’s very hard for me to recount that without sounding like a history textbook chapter on the Civil War or something and I’m not Ken Burns. 
Place your bets. Blessed Ally Nat 20 on the wish-egg-seed or on icing Kerradin?
Very wild that they destroyed the afterlife RIGHT before this fight. Like, before they knew that if they died, they could at least still talk to their loved ones to some degree. But now that’s gone. Perma-death is suddenly extra-perma. I wonder if that was a conscious choice on Brennan’s part.
Did I ever get to say, “newly *mint*-ed” with regard to Liam’s Peppermint Batman status? I don’t remember and it would be a shame if I hadn’t. 
I have more thoughts but this episode ends so clearly midway through the action that I feel it’s best to leave them for the actual finale. 
One More Thing!
As I’ve mentioned on here before, I’m working on an audiodrama podcast which should be dropping later this year! Absolutely No Adventures, a podcast about avoiding dangerous quests, making weird friends, and baking. It’s also a podcast about baking.  
The Twitter handle is @noadventurespod and we just got our art!
I’m very excited to start releasing stuff for it and I hope some of y’all check it out!
Tumblr media
46 notes · View notes
coffeestainsandcashmere · 4 years ago
Text
Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione), Part Three
Wow! Thank you so much for your feedback and apparent enthusiasm for the previous parts, and for your excitement to see more in the future! I never imagined it’d get any traction, but I’m staggered and touched to see that people are enjoying it!
Here’s part three for you, as promised. I had written twice as much as this (around 7k in total) for part three, but I split it up into two. Part Four will go up tomorrow after I’ve given it another once-over. It’s tooth-rottingly adorable really. There’s pizza involved. And a little delving into the past.
Content warnings for part three: unexpected run-in with Ron, passing mention of past alcohol abuse (Ron), and general prejudices against Slytherins. Again, this isn’t supposed to be a Ron-bashing story, but relationships do break down when fundamental beliefs don’t align. If I seem harsh on Ron, I don’t really mean to be. Hermione also isn’t perfect or unbiased, but she has perhaps slightly more reason to be upset with him than he does with her. It will all be explained in a later part, I promise, but it has been hinted at already in the previous two parts.
Part One | Part Two
___
Friday found her lingering awkwardly in the Ministry’s echoing Atrium, waiting for Theo to come out of his last meeting of the day, up on level five. The problem with being the former Minister for Magic - and one so famously young - was that quite literally everyone knew who she was. So far, in the ten minutes she’d been standing there, a seemingly ceaseless line of twittering assistants and employees had come cringing up to her to ask if she needed anything.  
She’d just sent the latest one packing with a tight-lipped ‘no, thank you. I’m just waiting for a friend,’ when someone cleared their throat behind her, and a familiar voice made her heart clench and her breath come short for half a moment.
“’Mione? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Ron,” she sighed, even before she turned to face him.  
In the decade or so since their divorce, he’d actually done pretty well for himself. Gone was the lingering paunch that had crept in towards the tail end of his quidditch career, and now he looked… well, quite frankly, he looked really good. He reminded her of Charlie Weasley a little, with floppy, roguish hair and a surprisingly lean figure once more. Becoming the coach of an internationally-recognised quidditch team suited him, clearly. That, and a happier, second marriage with Lavender, she supposed.  
“How are you?” she asked, trying not to sound too stiff and failing abysmally.  
“Good,” he said, rocking back on his heels for a moment with his hands shoved into his pockets. “What, uh, what brings you here then? Miss the place too much?” he asked with a little snort of laughter.
“Hardly, Ron,” she said with perhaps a little too much feeling. “No, I’m waiting for Theo.”
At the mention of Theo’s name, Ron’s eyes darkened. “Why?” he blurted.  
“Why? Because he’s my friend, Ronald,” she said. “And what are you doing here? Come to blag your way out of another ‘drunk and disorderly in possession of a broomstick’, hmm?”  
She knew even as she said it that her snide comment was uncalled for, and that she was being disproportionately petty, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Something about his lingering, bone-deep resentment of the people with whom she chose to associate these days just brought out the worst in her even now. She wasn’t proud of it. In her defence though, how many times had he tried to use the whole ‘The Minister for Magic is my wife’ ploy to get out of scrapes like that in the past?
Ron’s freckled face flushed at that. “I’m clean and sober now, Hermione,” he said. “Have been for the past five years, which you’d know if you ever came to any of Harry’s dinners. We used to be the ‘Golden Trio’ for fuck’s sake…”
Very quietly, and with what she thought was a remarkable degree of renewed self-control, Hermione said, “Excuse me for not wanting to intrude on your happy family, Ron. I am pleased to hear that though. That’s no small achievement. Congratulations.”
“But you’d still rather go scuttling off with the Slytherins instead of having dinner with me and Harry?” he said, eyes flashing.  
There it was. There was the comment — the little dig at her choices — that she’d been waiting for ever since she’d mentioned Theo’s name. 
“I hear that you and that lot are pretty tight now. Even dragged Neville into it.”
Her already-simmering outrage crept a degree or two hotter beneath the surface, and Hermione blinked rapidly. “‘Dragged’ Neville? Is that what you call his perfectly healthy and happy relationship with Pansy?”
“He wouldn’t have had anything to do with her if it wasn’t for you and Nott meddling. He’d have settled down with Hannah instead of leaving her for some Slytherin trust-fund bitch. You know she’s still heartbroken about it?”
Her eyebrows rose. That wasn’t how it had happened at all, though she knew Hannah was still upset, and she’d just opened her mouth to say so when she felt the prickle of other people’s eyes on them.
“I’m not discussing this, Ron, and I’m certainly not starting something here in the Ministry Atrium, for God’s sake,” she said, turning away. Her ears were starting to ring as her magic crackled inside her and she took a long, steadying inhale to try and calm down. People were indeed starting to stare, and she thought she glimpsed Gabriella Guile lurking near the sandwich shop with one of Rita Skeeter’s bloody ‘Quick-Quotes Quills’ hovering at the ready. “Please, Ron.”
He stepped in close and snarled, “Well, at least some of us still remember where our loyalties lie.”
Hermione saw red at that and spun back round to face him, eyes flashing and hair expanding like a Devil’s Snare. “Loyalty?” she spat. “You — you of all people — want to lecture me about loyalty?!”
Clearly he hadn’t followed that thought through to its conclusion before opening his mouth. He turned beetroot red and took half a step back, hands up defensively. “Look, Mione, I’m sorry. I didn’t come over to start another fight. It’s not like I expected to see you here - you don’t even work here anymore, and it’s not like we hang out or anything. How was I to know?” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m meeting Harry when he gets off work and we’re going for a drink at the Leaky. Let’s... Lets just forget it, ok?”
A hand landing gently but firmly between her shoulders made her jump and she whipped round to find Theo standing behind her, looming over her from his six-foot-something height. “Alright, love?” he asked in a steady baritone without taking his eyes off Ron.  
“Ready to go,” she said tartly. “Say hi to Harry for me, Ron.”
And with that, they left the Ministry by floo for Theo’s.  
As she stepped out of the swirling green flames of the fancy, Mayfair town-house’s marble fireplace only a moment or so behind him, she found Daniel rising from the sofa to greet Theo with a kiss, and once Theo had moved off through the house to hang up his cloak, he opened his arms to hug her warmly.
Dan, always a pleasure,” she said. “How are you?”  
The unexpected meeting with Ron left her oddly rattled. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him at all in the decade since the divorce - his little sister was her own best friend, and she’d met Bill Weasley on more than one occasion during her time at the Ministry, but still, to see him doing so well for himself and to see him so happy should have made her pleased. After all the years of shared friendship that she genuinely cherished, she should have been happy for him.  
Instead it galled and made her uncharacteristically bitter to know that he had everything he wanted now and he still couldn’t resist trying to rubbish the few things she had left of value in her life. Theo and Daniel were among her closest friends, and to her surprise, the rest of the Slytherins had adopted her into their little group without question.  
“Let’s start a bit early, shall we?” Theo chimed as he re-entered the living room with three champagne flutes and a bottle of something French and no doubt eye-wateringly expensive floating in front of him. Since that left his hands free, he began undoing his cuff links as he walked. “The others should be here soon enough anyway, and I just closed a deal with the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France that I’ve been trying to hash out all year. Yay me.”
His flawless French accent made Hermione smile. Everything just seemed so easy and natural to Theo; it might have enviable if he weren’t such an affable sweetheart to go with it.  
“Yay you,” Daniel chuckled, eyes glittering with affection as Theo handed Hermione a very full glass. “To my brilliant husband.”
Two hours later, amid the happy murmur of conversation that now filled the gorgeous, airy ground floor, Hermione looked up as the floo whooshed and Draco Malfoy stepped out. She’d begun to think he wasn’t going to show, and when she caught sight of him, a weight unexpectedly lifted from her chest. Something, at least, was going right today.
He had a heavy, black cloak around his shoulders and a bundle of brown paper parcels under one arm, printed with the logos of various Diagon Alley shops, though it was well past most of their closing times. She wondered where he’d been in the meantime, but didn’t want to pry.  
Whether out of surprise or curiosity, the chatter in the living room sputtered out a little at his arrival before Pansy rose to her feet and flung her arms around his neck. “Draco, darling!” she laughed as she air-kissed his winter-pink cheeks and hissed melodramatically in his ear — loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear —, “I’m so glad you came; Blaise owes me ten galleons. He said you wouldn’t come.”
Draco twitched his lips fondly into something that was almost a smirk and unclasped his cloak as she stepped away from him. He folded it up neatly atop the parcels beside the now-still fireplace and shot her a look. “Glad to know how much my company is worth these days, Pans,” he drawled.  
As he straightened, Hermione actually sank her teeth into her lower lip at the way his bespoke charcoal grey suit fitted him, accentuating his long, lean figure, with narrow hips and broad shoulders. He looked every bit the successful businessman while she was slouching around in the jeans and mauve hoodie she’d thrown on in the back room after closing the bookshop for the day. No wonder Pansy had given her an affectionately pitying grimace when she’d greeted her earlier.  
Theo rose gracefully from his seat beside her on the sofa to join Draco and Pansy by the hearth, and he hugged Draco fondly, murmuring something in his ear. The two were almost a match in height, though where Theo’s hair was a warm, copper-streaked, chocolate brown and his skin a tanned, freckled olive, Draco’s hair and skin were almost as colourless as the marble fireplace behind him.  
When Draco drew back this time, he spotted Hermione over Theo’s shoulder. He offered her a slow incline of his head, and allowed a clinking tumbler of whisky and ice to be pressed into his hand by Theo.  
Hermione wasn’t really sure quite what she’d been expecting from Draco when she’d invited him to join Theo’s usual Friday night drinks. Whatever it had been though, it wasn’t the thoughtful, considerate conversationalist she now found engaging Neville in detailed discussion about the disadvantages of farming dittany commercially. For some reason, Draco’s icy exterior and apparently reclusive behaviour had made her think he might be socially awkward, but apparently one can’t train the upper-class manners out of someone once it’s been bred into their bloodline for umpteen generations, even after a dusty decade of disuse. Further to her surprise, he actually seemed genuinely interested in what Neville had to say about the difference in potency between rare, wild-harvested dittany and the farmed stuff.  
Meanwhile, she just sat on the sofa with Neville on her left and Theo on her right, and only half-listened to the talk around her, not participating at all.  
Despite everyone’s obvious enjoyment of the gathering, Hermione found herself unable to muster any of her usual social enthusiasm, and remained in pretty subdued silence. After a while, Neville politely excused himself to find Pansy, with an earnest promise to follow up on something or other for Malfoy, and his seat was not reoccupied.  
In the lull, Malfoy took the opportunity to lean across the space from his armchair to the sofa and murmur, “Everything alright, Granger?”  
From beside her, Theo looked round and slung his arm causally over her shoulders and squeezed. “Hermione had a small run in with her ex-husband in the middle of the Ministry Atrium.”
Draco’s eyes flashed and his lip curled minutely.
“Nothing dramatic, but the prick had the nerve to insinuate that Slytherins make for poor company. Luckily, dear Hermione reminded him that we’re not all still twelve years old...”
She managed a smile at that. “Don’t let me rain on your party, Theo, but I think... I think I will head home now.”
“Feel free to floo,” he breezed, waving the hand that had been around her shoulders with a flash of the gold signet ring on his little finger, “But obviously I’d much rather you stay and drink yourself into a giggling stupor again... It’s been far too long since that happened.”
“You drink yourself into a giggling stupor every Friday, Theo. I’m sure you can manage to do it again on my behalf tonight. I’d love to stay, but it’s all getting a bit... loud now anyway...” she said vaguely. “I think I’ll walk home.”
Theo just nodded and gave her an affectionate little wink that would have looked corny on anyone half as charming. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Say hello to whatever your book-du-jour is for me. Will it be Emily or Charlotte this time?”
Draco frowned in confusion and she laughed a little. “Charlotte.”  
Still cleanly nonplussed, Malfoy looked from Theo to Hermione before Theo grinned at him. “Brontë,” he said conspiratorially. “Muggle author.” He looked back to Hermione and said, “Means it’s an evening with dear Jane Eyre then. Haven’t you read that a hundred times?”
“More, probably,” she chuckled, standing. “Goodnight, Draco. I’m glad you came. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
He nodded, looking slightly winded for some reason, and offered nothing else.  
After saying goodbye to a few people, and finding that Pansy had somehow managed to drape herself successfully across Neville’s lap despite the fact that he was sitting on a bar stool of all things, Hermione headed for the front door and slipped out into the night alone.  
With her coat still over the crook of one arm despite the biting wind, she made her way from Theo’s cushy house out into wider Muggle London, and from there she began to meander.  
Just as she crossed the boundary into Hyde Park, she heard running feet and someone calling her name. To her surprise, she turned and found Malfoy loping along the pavement after her.
Halting, she waited for him to catch up and looked curiously up at him. His pale cheeks were flushed pink again from the bout of light exercise, his breath billowed white, and his hair seemed to glow like burnished silver in the harsh light of the street lamps. It was hard to doubt the rumours of him being part Veela in moments like that.  
“What is it, Malfoy?” she asked when he didn’t articulate the reason for his hasty journey. “Did I forget something?”
“No, I —“ he faltered and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. The motion ruffled his hair into something altogether softer and more attractive. He cut it much shorter at the sides now but left the top longer, and it had an attractive wave to it that had once been oiled out of existence in his earlier years at Hogwarts. “I thought — ach, this was a stupid idea.”
“What do you mean? What was a stupid idea?”
“I thought I’d come after you and see if you were alright. You looked fucking miserable back there, Granger.”
“You taught your son foundation spellwork with that mouth, Malfoy?” she countered, slightly staggered by his apparent thoughtfulness. This was not the Malfoy she remembered at all, and it was gratifying to find that her experience of him over lunch had not been a one-off.
He smirked and the effect was disarming in a way it never had been at Hogwarts. “I do try not to swear around him, but if he’s learnt something uncouth, I couldn’t promise it didn’t come from me. Or Theo. Actually it’s more likely to have come from Theo.”
She laughed suddenly. “Your little mandrake,” she sighed.
Something odd passed across his face and he stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket. “Salazar’s balls,” he cursed. “It’s colder out here than I thought.”
Wandlessly, she murmured a spell to extend the radius of her own extant warming charm to surround them both. “Better?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Left my cloak and stuff back at Theo’s.”
Hermione smiled and gestured with the arm holding her coat. “I’d offer you mine, but I’m not sure even you could pull off a Muggle women’s rain mac that’s several sizes too small for you.”
“Oh I don’t know,” he said. “I think I could transfigure it into something… workable.”
“You sound just like Theo and Dan and Pansy,” she groaned. “They’re always threatening to take me shopping. I’m terrified to let them loose on my wardrobe. I’m afraid I’ll never see another pair of comfy jeans again!”
“Don’t listen to them. The way you dress is just fine,” he said easily. “Besides, you give that lot an inch and they’ll take a mile. You should always stand your ground, especially against Pansy…”
“Well, I’ve got Nev on my side too,” she said. “Though even I have to admit that she’s had a positive effect on his wardrobe. Maybe I should let her take me shopping after all... I probably couldn’t afford the places she shops though,” she laughed, then looked up to find an odd light in Malfoy’s grey eyes. “You really came haring through London after me just to check I was alright?”
“And walk you home if you’d like,” he added. “But I’ll leave you in peace if I’m imposing. Heavens know you’ve had one pushy bloke to deal with already today...”
“The last thing I think of you right now is ‘pushy’, Malfoy. I think you’re very kind to come after me.”
He looked away at that and a private smile graced his lips. Bloody hell though; where some people’s looks seemed to have been watered down with age, Malfoy’s features had been honed and refined by time into something akin to a masterpiece, with high, sharp cheekbones and a slim, and clearly very fit and healthy, figure. It made her stomach swoop and ache again in a way she hadn’t felt in years. It also made her feel a little self-conscious of the softer curves she was carrying around her hips, arms, and lower stomach these days. Hefting books around kept her strong, but a largely sedentary life in the bookshop wasn’t doing wonders for her once-svelte figure, it had to be said.  
He nudged his elbow out a few inches and she smiled, taking the offer and sliding her fingers into the crook of his arm.  
They set off and walked slowly, aimlessly, along the walkways of Hyde Park, and for a long time neither of them spoke. A cyclist shot past them at one point, and Malfoy watched him disappear into the distance with an inquisitive frown, as if trying to figure out how it could possibly function. He never said anything though, and they carried on, warmed by Hermione’s spell and encased in an oddly amicable silence.  
It was Malfoy who broke the silence at last. “You find this strange, Granger?” he asked, glancing down at her.  
Her breath caught as she stared up into those full-moon eyes of his; bright and silver and so god-damned intense. Gone was the pinched look of fear and insecurity lingering in the corners. Gone was the cruel, steely glint. The lines of his face were still hard and severe, and he carried a hefty frown most of the time, and that trademark pointy chin was still there, but he really had grown up, inside and out, and it showed.  
“Strange?” she croaked. “What, you and me walking arm in arm through Hyde Park at seven in the evening?”
“Mmm,” he nodded.  
“A little,” she admitted as she looked ahead up the path. “A little.”
.
Part Four
___
As before, if you like where it’s going and want to see more, do let me know! I will post it on Tumblr as I write it, and once it’s all complete, I’ll plop it onto AO3 in one go. That way keeps the pressure off a bit, I think? Anyway, let me know if you’re enjoying it, and why, either by reblogging this or sending me an ask
writing masterlist | Ao3
66 notes · View notes
mercheswan · 5 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
My Little League Friend 
 AO3  My user name: MerCevans
Stiles Stilinski was nine years old , he lived in Beacon Hills with his mother Claudia and his father Noah, who was also the town’s sheriff. Stiles was an imperactive kid who enjoyed videogames, Star Wars and pretending to be a detective like his father.
This summer he was very excited because he managed to convince his parents to enlist him in the Baseball Little League. Stiles adored baseball, he practiced with his bat every afternoon.
His mother Claudia drove him to the first training. Stiles was really excited, there were many kids, and the coach was really nice. Stiles did pretty good, all the practice had been worth it.
When his mother came to pick him up, Stiles said goodbye to  his teammates and went home. Stiles noticed a boy in the corner of the pitch. The boy’s name was Theo, Stiles knew him because they went to the same school. He usually acted shy and didn’t have many friends.
“Goodbye Theo! See you tomorrow!” Stiles shouted in Theo’s direction, waving his hand. The mentionated boy turned to look at Stiles, surprise in his face, after a few seconds he waved back.
At the next day at practice, when Stiles arrived Theo greeted him. “Hello Stiles” The boy said with a shy smile.
“Hello Theo!” Stiles saluted back returning the smile.
In that day’s practice one of the boys made Stiles trip when he was running to the third base. Stiles was on the groung fighting off the tears. He could hear some of the kids laughing, but then something surprised him.
“Hey! Apologise! You did it on purpose!” Theo shouted defending Stiles.
Coach lectured the boy who hit Stiles and sat him on the bench. Theo came to Stiles and offered him his hand to stand up.
“Thank you Theo” Stiles said and Theo smiled.
“We are teammates, right?” Theo asked
Stiles nodded and grinned. “Yeah, we’re friends” Stiles said and saw a shocked but happy expression in Theo’s face.
Stiles decided he wanted to be Theo’s friend. The had defended him and he seemed nice. Stiles also noticed that he had a Star Wars key chain in his backpack, so he had to be vool, because Star Wars was awesome.
That day when Stiles’s mother came to pick him up, Stiles babbled excitedly about the day while his mother looked a his with a fond smile.
“Mom I have to go to the bathroom very quickly” Stiles claimed.
“Okay Mischief, we can go” Claudia said walking towards the restrooms.
When Stiles exited the restrooms there were almost no kids left in the pitch.
Claudia took Stiles’s hand and the walked to the car but Stiles noticed a figure next to the bench. Stiles let go of his mother’s hand and ran to it. Getting closer Stiles could hear some sobs, then he saw who they belonged to.
“Theo?” Stiles questioned. Theo looked up, his eyes meeting Stiles’s. “Are you okay?” Stiles asked.
“Stiles… h-hi…” Theo muttered wipping off his tears.
“Mischief you can’t leave my side like that!” Claudia scolded his son, then she noticed the other boy. “Oh, hello, what’s wrong sweetheart?” Claudia asked.
“Theo was crying” Stiles explained to his mother.
“I-I’m fine.. really” Theo said getting up from the ground.
“Oh sweetheart you don’t look good, where are your parents?” Claudia asked looking around looking for them. Theo looked down at his hands not responding. “They haven’t arrived yet to pick you up?” Claudia questioned, Theo denied with his head.
“We’ll wait with you!” Stiles proclaimed taking Theos’ hand, pulling him towards the parking lot.
“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to wait… It may take a while…They are working and busy…” Theo muttered.
“Do they make you wait a lot?” Claudia asked. She had a suspicious that she hoped wasn’t true. Theo looked down again with a sad face. Stiles didn’t want to see Theo sad.
“Mommy Theo can come with us right? I can show him my videogames!” Stiles suggested excited, sqeezing Theo’s hand. Theo looked at Stiles eyes widening full of enthusiasm.
Claudia glanced at the pair, Theo’s excitement about being invited by a friend over, had to mean that they boy didn’t experience it often. Claudia didn’t want to judge, but It seemed as if Theo’s parents were not taking proper care of their son. Claudia couldn’t just leave the boy there alone.
“It’s a good idea Mischief, we can call your parents to tell them that you went home with a friend” Claudia smiled. Stiles screamed in triumph hugging his teammate. Theo giggled and hugged Stiles back.
When the three of them arrived to the Stilinski household, Stiles didn’t wait any second to grab Theo and guide him towards his bedroom, where all his toys and games where kept.
Claudia took the chance to call his husband. “Hey Claudia what’s wrong?” Sheriff Stilisnki said picking up the phone.
“Can you look for the number of the Raeken family?” Claudia questioned.
“Sure if they live in Beacon Hills I could find that information, Why? What’s wrong?” Noah asked.
“Their son, Theo, he is in Stiles’s baseball team, and neither of the parents came to pick him up. I think it’s not the first time the kid had to wait alone many hours. I couldn’t leave him there Noah, I brought him home with me and Stiles, they are playing videogames.” Claudia explained the situation.
“Okay, okay, Do you want me to investigate?” Noah asked.
“N-no, I just, can you call the parents to tell them where their child is so they don’t worry?” Claudia said
“Of course. I’ll call you when I contact them. See you later” Noah said ending the call.
Claudia felt conflicted about the whole situation. Theo looked healthy and his clothes were clean and new. She didn’t think his parents were abusing him or anything of the sort, but there was something wrong. She walked upstairs to check on the kids. Before reaching Stiles’s bedroom she could hear the laughter and the screams as well as the noises coming from Stiles’s console, which brought a smile to her face. The children seemed to be having a great time, Claudia was glad that Stiles made a new friend.
An hour later Noah called Claudia to tell her that he couldn’t contact the parents. How could someone just forget about their precios boy like that? Claudia thought.
“Mom and Dad are coming?” Theo asked starling Claudia a little bit.
“Not yet sweetheart, Are you boys hungry?” Claudia asked. Stiles and Theo both nodded. “We’ll have pizza today” Claudia announced which caused Stiles to shout in happines and Theo to laugh at Stiles’s enthusiasm. “You’ll have dinner with us Theo” Claudia proclaimed.
Noah arrived home and Stiles jumped into his father’s arms. “Dad! Today’s baseball training was great! One of the kids push me but Theo defended me!” Stiles explained and Claudia could see Theo blushing when he was mentioned.
Noah laughed at his son’s imperactivity. “That’s great Stiles, and thanks Theo for being a good friend to Stiles” Noah said.
“Okay boy, go to wash your hands the pizza must be about to arrive” Claudia ordered and the kids chanted affirmatively running upstairs.
When the kids were out of sight Cladia looked at her husband. “I told the station to send me the call if Theo’s parent finaly pick up. It’s so weird, it’s like they are missing.” Noah explained. Claudia sighed worried.
The pizza arrived and The Stilinski family plus Theo seated on the table to eat. Theo had impecable manners, Stiles was his usual imperactive self, babbling words and gesturing a lot with his hands. Claudia saw that Theo looked at Stiles with a fond expression while he explained what his father’s job consisted in. In the middle of dinner the phone rang. The Raekens.
Noah answered. Theo’s smile fell from his face and Stiles also got quiet. “What’s wrong boys?” Claudia questioned.
“Theo is leaving?” Stiles asked.
“I suppose his parents will come to pick him up, yes” Claudia responded. Stiles pouted. “What’s wrong?”
“Can’t Theo stay to sleep?” Stiles asked. Claudia was about to answer that Theo should go with his family when she noticed Theo’s excited face. Claudia stood up and walked towards her husband.
Noah was talking on the phone with Theo’s mother. “Ask them if Theo can stay to sleep” Claudia whispered to her husband.
Noah looked confussed at his wife but nodded. The Raekens accepted.
“Theo can stay to sleep, go to wash yout teeth. Stiles give Theo a pijama” Claudia ordered the boys.
The boys went upstairs holding hands, Claudia huffed a laugh, loving the sight of the two adorable boys.
“Her mother told me that apparetly there was a missunderstood and that the father thought the mother was going to pick Theo up and the mother thought the father would do it.” Noah explained.
“I think Theo will come over more times, he and Stiles got along really well” Claudia told Noah.
In Stiles’s bedroom Stiles was looking trough his wardrobe for the perfect pijama for Theo. “Here! Found it!” Stiles exclaimed cheerfully. While handing the pijama to Theo. “It’s my favourite one! It’s Star Wars and it’s orange and blue, I love orange and blue” Stiles blurted.
Theo took the pijama and hugged it to his chest. “Thank you Stiles! I love orange too!” Theo said before changing his clothes.
The pair entered the bed and Claudia came to kiss them goodnight. “Sleep well boys!” She said turning off the lights.
Sties turned his face towards Theo’s figure. “Did you have fun?” he asked.
“Of course! It was the best day ever, thank you so much Stiles. You have a great family, they are so nice.” Theo said turning his face to look at Stiles as well.
“So that means we are friends right?” Stiles asked.
“I don’t have many friends…” Theo muttered.
“I think you’re cool! I like you Theo!” Stiles insisted.
“I really want to be your friend Stiles” Theo claimed.
“Then we are friends!” Stiles concluded grabbing Theo’s hand under the sheets.  Theo giggled and pushed playfully Stiles so he would fall out of bed, but Stiles hugged Theo tight to stop himself from falling. Both boys giggled out loud which made Noah shout to them to go to sleep.
The newly friends talked for hours in hushed whispers about, baseball, what they wanted to do during the summer, what they wanted to be when they grow up. They finaly felt asleep with their heads next to each other.
They could have been good friends but three men in masks intervined, creating a set of events that would end up separating the pair. But who knows what the furure holds, maybe Stiles and Theo will meet again and find their way back to each other.
62 notes · View notes