#Bro has been stuck as a child for centuries now

[where-is-my-beheading-ceremony]

Rough sketch of Lithuania's kids-

From oldest (bottom) to youngest (top)

East Prussia, Samogitia and Užupis

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[therealvinelle]

Aro def took Carlisle's virginity right?

Beautiful question, anon. I like you.

Let’s be methodical about this one, because there are two assumptions made here, one being that Aro got a homerun with Carlisle, the other being that Carlisle was a virgin. Let’s examine both.

Did Carlisle die a virgin?

Considering Carlisle’s looks as a vampire, his human self was most likely very attractive as well. He was in good health and lived to be 23, so if this was someone else I’d assume he’d gotten laid. As it happens, I don’t.

Carlisle was a very pious man, living in a time when pre-marital sex was bad not only because it was sin, but because it would ruin the woman involved if it got out. To say nothing of pregnancies, both mother and child would suffer major stigma for the rest of their lives, or STDs, which are bad news all around. If Carlisle were to get laid in life he’d have to either solicit prostitutes, or ruin good women, and both are dishonorable, unchristian ways to act. As for homosexuality, I don’t think that would occur to him.

There’s technically the option that Carlisle was married at the time of his death, but it’s extremely slim because as a young man only just taking over from his father, he would have been in the process of becoming financially able to care for a potential wife. He wouldn’t have been able to marry sooner, since with his father still active in the parish there wouldn’t have been a spot for him. (Contrary to common belief, no, people did not all get married at the age of eighteen before the 20th century. The upper class could do that since they had the financial means, middle and lower classes could not. As a cleric in post-Reformation England, Carlisle would have been middle class. A commoner, as Edward puts it. For him to be unwed at twenty-three is perfectly reasonable.) Also, it’s the kind of thing that would have come up. It doesn’t.

So, Carlisle dies a virgin.

Enter Aro.

Did they do the do?

Carlisle liked Aro well enough to move in with him for over two decades, Aro thinks Carlisle is da bomb and has the highest regard for him. Aro is also from a very different, non-Christian culture and appears to be gay.

So, you have two attractive men meeting each other, one of whom is gay, and they get along so swimmingly that Carlisle decides to live with Aro for decades until a difference in opinion makes them part amiably. And I can’t stress the living together part enough, because Aro is the only one Carlisle does this for. He doesn’t join any other covens even though he has plenty of good friends, and what holds the Cullens together is the fact that he created them and that they share the diet. Aro stands alone as the one Carlisle felt strongly enough about to spend a lifetime trying to convert.

Not just that, but of all the people Carlisle’s met over the centuries, the only ones who made it into Edward’s Carlisle summary were the Volturi, which we later learn was really just Aro. Which to me sounds like pre-Eclipse Carlisle would speak or think of Aro fairly often, or Edward wouldn’t have thought to bring it up.

On the other end we have Aro, who openly fangirls at the mere mention of Carlisle’s name, and won’t shut up about how amazing he is to anybody who’ll listen.

Now, we have guys being dudes, bros living together in a close relationship, for... decades. What on earth were they doing there, Aro only has so many books.

That being said, I do think it’s a bit up in the air. I try to keep this blog canon adherent, so I’m not going to say “Yup, they definitely had sex” when there’s the possibility they didn’t.

To get a bit into the reasons why I think it’s possible they forgot to say “no homo”, we know that they were very close and Carlisle was something more than a visitor (as he was included in the Solimena group painting, there are implied to have been more, and the fact that he chose to leave points to his invitation having been indefinite), and Aro shows every sign of being uninvested in women (his courtship of Sulpicia sounds like beard shopping) and his marriage in general. And, again, Carlisle is very attractive.

There’s really no reason for Carlisle to spend twenty years in Volterra unless he felt very strongly about Aro. Aro made it extremely clear he wasn’t switching diets, Carlisle stuck around and spent decades (and he was young, to him this was a lot of time) refusing to give up anyway. If he’d stayed a month or even a year, then sure, I would be on board with Carlisle merely thinking Aro’s library was neat. But when we’re talking twenty years it’s... pretty personal.

More, I see people bring up Carlisle’s faith for why it wouldn’t happen, at the very least not without angsty angst. Well, everything points to Carlisle having formed his own doctrine. I think how that would affect old beliefs, internalized homophobia, and such is best left for another post, as I have two separate asks for that and we’d get way off-topic, suffice to say that Carlisle was in a place where the theological argument that sodomy was not a devastating sin could be made by Aro (who I’m sure had a twelve-step plan to seduce Carlisle).

Given how close they have to have been, there’s an intense intimacy in choosing to live with someone who through physical contact sees your very soul. Even if their relationship never became physical, this still sounds to me like the recipe for a charged relationship.

And so it is that I think if Aro decided to go for it, he would succeed. He would have to seduce Carlisle, as homosexuality wouldn’t have been on the radar at all for him prior to meeting “Alexander and Hephaistion were close friends, you know” Aro, but he would succeed.

But, this is all assuming Aro tried. It could be he didn’t. They had a good thing going and he might not have wanted to risk it. If he tried and wasn’t successful, the friendship would be successfully ruined.

Could also be Caius cockblocked him by walking up to Carlisle during the first week and telling him “you know you’re only here because Aro wants to fuck you, right?”, which would very effectively block Aro from making any moves. (Caius’ incentive for this, of course, would be wanting scare away the Christian boytoy before Aro can get too unbearable about him. Well, tough luck, Carlisle sticks around anyway and now Aro and Caius are both losers because one isn’t getting laid and the other has to see Carlisle’s fugly face every day.)

So to answer your question, anon, yes I think it might have happened, probably even, it’s the side I fall on. And if so, then Aro did take Carlisle’s V-card. But it might not have happened, though if it didn’t then things were still pretty damn gay down there in Volterra.

(Oh and to do my part in sowing the seeds of chaos into this fandom: if Aro/Carlisle happened then I think Carlisle/Sulpicia might have happened as well.)

[obeymeluv]

The Bros as Dads

PSA: The boys would be very attractive dads (emotionally and physically). That is all.

Note: the headcanon also includes genders for the kids. I can see some of them having sons, and others having daughters. And, obviously, everyone is older (20′s-ish).

Lucifer

Takes a while to process the news. It’s kind of a big thing. His love life was something of a roller coaster (or nonexistent) until you. The ‘L’ word was a hurdle, now there’s a B word and a P word?!

When his brain realizes what you’ve said or if you show him some proof, the pride takes over FULL SWING (you can feel it explode in him, like his aura) and he purrs

You are truly his stars, his moon, and the heavens he so dearly misses

There’s this raw, vulnerable love in Lucifer’s eyes and it pretty much awes everyone because he’s usually so proper and reserved

The memories are old and dusty but Lucifer’s parenting instincts are strong

A type-A, fussy person. You may have 7 months left before you give birth, but the house will be spotless and perfectly proofed before you hit bed rest

Piles of parenting books suddenly sprout around the house. No one’s sure where they came from or how there’s even that many WRITTEN about parenting.

You and the child become his world. You’re his kryptonite, the only thing to convince him away from long hours or break him out of sour moods

Lucifer is very stressed, more than he thought he’d be, because you’re carrying his child and he worries for your health.

He’s with you every step of the way, from appointments to birth

He’d absolutely drop everything to tend to your needs, or appoint one of the brothers if he couldn’t.

Likes to busy himself with making a nursery and is actually good at themes/interior decorating

Has a tiny desk built in his study. The child won’t be able to join him for a while, but the idea of his tiny joy working on something beside him warms his heart

Hunts down obscure herbs and items from folklore that are supposed to bless pregnancies or benefit the unborn. Turns out he’s really nervous and superstitious.

Lucifer is the worst when it comes to shopping because his pride outweighs his logical restraint. If he convinces himself IN THE SLIGHTEST that his child would look good in something or the nursery could really use an item, it’s coming to the House of Lamentation

He ugly cries when he realizes you’re having a girl because he feels like Lilith has been given back to him.

Refuses to name his child Lilith because of everything that happened. Can’t settle for anything close to her name or any nicknames they gave her.

Makes you a sleeping space in his study. Loves to take breaks to watch you sleep. Unintentionally takes a break to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby.

Firm believer in ‘in the belly’ enrichment so you’ll have music playing and Lucifer will read to them all the time.

If the baby’s not with you, she’s with him. Lucifer has definitely shown up to a meeting with Lord Diavolo with his baby in a chest carrier. The meeting went flat because Diavolo wanted to play with the baby.

He’s the type of dad that demands total silence when the baby’s sleeping. Might have tied up some of his brothers to achieve it.

He’s not a total hard-ass (this kid has made a sucker out of him, okay?) but his kid will definitely have manners and knows to help clean up.

The type to take naps with his kid. He’ll get up at 2 in the morning and climb into their crib if they’re fussy.

Lucifer spent so much of his life being the primary caretaker for his bros that he forgets he’s not alone this time. When you push him back down so he can sleep, and tend to your daughter, his heart almost bursts with love.

On the fence about another child. The kid’s going to have pride in spades and he thinks a sibling will humble them (and make them less lonely). He’s also afraid of that prideful wrath and doesn’t want two prideful little demons always fighting

Isn’t the best with dressing up his kid but likes to give them fancy shoes. The shoes are always on point even if the rest of the outfit is a disaster.

Is 100% ready to receive any and everything “#1 Dad” because he IS, DAMN IT. He’ll use it regularly, too.

Mammon

He’s freaking out hardcore (”You sure? Really, really sure? Maybe you just have gas or something. Y-yeah!”)

Doesn’t believe it until he sees a test. Promptly faints. Dead-ass faints as soon as he sees it.

Kind of remembers it when he wakes up, and you have to remind him again.

This time he’s pretty excited because THE GREAT MAMMON will be having a child. WHAT A GIFT, RIGHT? THE BEST GIFT!

All the magazines are snapping up this gossip and, for once in his life, he puts the earnings away. Kid has a nice fund going before they’re even born.

His schedule is 50% work, 50% family because YOUR MAIN MAN HAS TO BE THERE. Work just pays the bills and pads the nursery account, okay?

The Devildom has something similar to a baby shower and Mammon puts all KINDS of high-dollar shit on there. His baby’s going to be stylin’, okay?

Some crying in front of others, but an entirely different kind of crying behind closed doors. Vulnerable, grateful crying about being loved and having a tiny someone who will love him, too

Pays someone to explain baby stuff to him. How to change them, feed them, what type of breathing you should be doing. It surprised his bros because Lucifer could just give him that info. The fact that Mammon paid for it means he’s pretty serious about learning.

Gets tons of free maternity photos because all his magazines want the scoop. He gets to pamper you and see you all dressed up and beautiful and EVERY magazine has a shot of him crying like a proud sap.

Mammon hoards all of those pictures. Has a pile of them in his room, totally separate from everything else.

Has a lot of nervous energy and can get frustrated with all the baby books, so he distracts himself with scrap-booking. Surprisingly good at it.

Mammon thinks you’re just the most beautiful thing ever. He loves taking pictures of you. Wants the kid to have no doubts about how much he loves them and their parent.

He’s so lovesick. When you sleep or hug your belly or just touch it he melts.

Stacks Grimm on your belly when you sleep. Thinks it’s fun. Likes to record how big the towers get.

Not the best at getting up for your random-hour cravings and has definitely made you cry with his bluntness. When he’s more awake he’ll apologize and you guys will work it out.

When he finds out he’s having a little boy, the bros throw a party. Mammon gets semi-drunk and has a huge, ass-chewing lecture about how the bros made him feel for centuries and how they better not say ANYTHING like that to his kid.

You shot down any and all attempts to name the kid anything money related.

Almost passed out when you had the baby.

Cried when he first held him. Calls him Mamm-mini.

Totally planning the baby’s first photo shoot. Has people on standby to make matching outfits.

He now has a partner in crime and the kid can charm the pants off of anyone!

Mammon is 100% devoted to this kid and he secretly hopes he’s the favorite parent.

Lives for any second of bonding he can get. NEEDS IT TO LIVE. 100% a sappy dad.

The most supportive dad, always saying nice things because he knows people didn’t always say nice things about him.

Levi

Brain stops working. You almost think you’ve given him a heart attack

Levi feels you take the controller from his hand and instantly has to fill it with something else, taking yours. He looks at you and asks you again if you’re sure.

He can see it in your eyes and he just crows. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or scared but he made the noise.

Worries A LOT about the idea of becoming a father. Can gross otakus be good fathers? How does he dad?

Gets pre-stressed about social interactions. Kids have to go to school and have play-dates and Levi’s going to have to talk to people...ugh! Gross!

Definitely has a few break-downs (feelings of inadequacy, etc.) before Lucifer or Satan comfort him. He’s better than he thinks, just insecure. Everyone learns as they go. They have classes (”They’re like cheat codes, Levi.”) and it makes him feel better

His gaming friends send their congratulations and he gets lots of themed blankets and onesies.

Wants you to have a water birth because the water is his child’s calling. Really attached to the idea.

He’s constantly looking up guides to baby-proofing, double- and triple-checking safety specs of anything before buying it.

Spends HOURS scouring Akuzon, comparing brands, and reading reviews for everything.

Akuzon noticed he was buying lots of baby books and looking at baby-related things so they sent him a onesie.

You get a lovely beach/water-themed maternity shoot and Levi is so love-struck he gets a nosebleed. Once he’s cleaned up it makes a darling photo shoot.  

Has already made lists of anime for the kid to watch. Some are his favorite, some are for the lessons and moments that stuck with him

Asmo messaged TSL on the down-low and Levi got some quality kid-sized merch.

Tries to get you to name the baby Henry if it’s a boy. When he finds out it’s a girl, he pushes for Henrietta.

Reads TSL to the baby and plays ocean sounds.

As you get further along in your pregnancy, he buys a fridge for his room and stocks it with your favorite cold stuff. Any snack foods are just added to his stash.

You are absolutely worshipped. Craving something? Akuzon has it and the fastest pig is on it’s way. Your feet hurt? Try a water bath!

You’re his Player 2 now and forever (always have been), and he’s keeping you in perfect health.

Probably keeps a video journal for the kid or of the two of you during your pregnancy. Big on preserving stuff digitally.

Probably makes a game for his kid just because. They’ll be able to play it when they’re older.

Bought a ton of Magical Girl-style hairbows and things for when their hair grows in. His daughter’s a fucking princess, okay?

Belphegor bought the baby a goldfish onesie and Levi loves it to pieces.

Bought the baby a seashell bassinet and rocks them to sleep with his tail.

Levi has a bad sleep schedule and wakes easily, so he’s usually the first one to get up and handle the baby.

He has this complex about being a good dad. People can call him a weird, gross otaku but they’re ALSO going to mention how good of a dad he is!

Super affectionate with his kid in a quiet, whispering, mumbling way. Just thinks they’re the best thing.

Having a daughter really makes him rethink some of the ways he viewed anime characters and made him super critical. If his daughter ends up liking anime he’ll make it very clear what he thinks and how she shouldn’t let other people treat her like an object. 

His demon form gets triggered REALLY EASILY if his bros hold her for too long. THAT’S HIS BABY, THANK YOU!

Satan

Secretly hoped to be a father one day. Wanted to prove so badly that he could be one, and move past the constant fear of his temper looming over him. He didn’t want wrath to be his only legacy.

Can’t manage more than a genuine smile and a lilting laugh when you tell him, but he’s literally almost sick with joy. He’s just not the type to jump from the rooftops or anything

Asmodeus and Mammon convince him into drinking because he needs to let loose and really show it!

Satan ends up drunk-stumbling to Lucifer and plunking his head into his chest and crying. He’s crying because he’s happy and mumbling something about ‘granddad’. When his tears dry he’s happy as can be, smugly calls Lucifer an ‘old fuck’ and promptly throws up.

They’re past most of their bad blood but even Lucifer wasn’t surprised Satan never got EVERYTHING out of his system. A lot of his childhood memories are tainted with pure wrath instead of coming into his cardinal sin through some other mean. Or naturally, like puberty.

Between his personal research and Lucifer’s expertise, the baby-proofing is totally covered.

His book binges are strictly about pregnancies, suspicions, rituals, parenting, and anything he can think of that has to do with kids.

He’s big on teas and brews that are supposed to help with pregnancies and pains. Uses his many connections to get ingredients for said teas

Reads the classics and big epics to his unborn child.

Buys you some Hellcats for protection. They’re fiercely loyal, so he’ll know you’re safe.

He’d be the type to nag you about your diet, but not to be mean. He’d support it with this absolute WALL of evidence that turns into a lecture that could last for hours.

Has to fight the Hellcats to sit next to you or touch your belly a lot more than he thought he would. He’d never say it out loud, but he’s starting to hate the cats (he doesn’t mean it though).

Starts cleaning up his book piles a lot more. The baby would get hurt if the stacks fell on them. His room becomes virtually spotless.

You pick books to read together. You end up reading Satan to sleep, too. He keeps a hand on your belly.

Gets nervous about you wanting to go out, and basically tries to keep you in the House of Lamentation. Relents a little because hormones make you scary. He was basically afraid of nothing because the walks were fine.

You like to sit in the Devildom gardens and he thinks you look picturesque and wonderful. It takes his breath away.

Asmodeus is your personal photographer because Satan doesn’t think anyone else will do you justice.

Finds out you’re having boy-girl twins and totally shuts down. What does he say? How does he respond? BELPHIE OR BEEL WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TWINS! WHY HIM?!

Lucifer is BEYOND amused. This is definitely payback for everything Satan did in his childhood (so the saying goes).

It doesn’t bother him as much when he starts buying smart little cardigans, button-ups, ribbons, and bowties. He’s actually quite happy.

The Hellcats act weird and tip him off to your contractions before your water breaks. Satan gets you to the hospital and helps you give birth. The twins grow to look more like him than you, but if someone mistakes you for the nanny or says something derogatory, he’s pulling two ferocious kids off an idiot

Satan was afraid he’d be a short fuse, but he becomes the parent that explains everything to death (for better or worse). The kids will get a lecture when they’re bad, when the ask ‘why’ to something, he’ll explain why he gave the punishment he did, and be very clear with anything.

Asmodeus

Quickly falls in love with the idea of you being pregnant. It’s the best! Proof of his truest love, the thing that makes his heart beat!

He loved you to pieces before you were pregnant, and loves you even more now (if that’s possible).

Always wants to be with you, smothering your belly with kisses and touches and looking at it like it’s the next greatest love of his life

Takes names very seriously. “My child is a gift unto this world. People will know their name, so it has to be a good one!”

Gets really wrapped up in decor and aesthetic. He’d be a one-man force for all of it if you didn’t tell him to stop and breathe! Asmodeus just has lots of ideas, okay?

Has a really hard time understanding the value of baby-proofing until Satan smushes a few of his lipsticks in his hand and knocks around some finishing powder (”Now imagine that. All the time. With anything you love.”). 

Hires someone to baby-proof the room because that’s just not his thing. He’ll handle securing the valuables, okay?

Constantly reading about beauty rituals and things to do for his pregnant wife. She’s doing something really hard and deserves to be pampered!

You’ll constantly be pampered or trying ‘this and that’ because he read it was good for the baby. Good for beauty, good for health, etc.

Has a pretty decent diet, himself, and keeps you on yours.

You definitely have pregnancy sex a few times. Anything he can do to help you out, you know?

Asmodeus ADORES watching you grow round with his child and LIVES for helping you take care of yourself. He’ll let you lounge in his fantastic tub and has no issues sitting on the floor and doing your toes

Picks out all your outfits. Wants you to look your best! Don’t worry, you’ll be comfy!

When he finds out you’re having a girl he cries. A lot.

SO MANY BABY UPDATE BROADCASTS ON DEVILGRAM! There is an official ‘baby watch’. It’s trending more than you thought it would.

Takes TONS of videos.

His baby is easily the most fashionable child in all of Devildom.

Takes really candid, private photos that have a lot of sentimental value. A lot of your pregnancy photos are you looking comfy in bed or sitting at a vanity in breezy clothes as he does your makeup.

The type of dad to sit down in the middle of the store to play with toys (are they good enough for his kid? Like, really?). Must feel everything before he buys it. If he doesn’t like how it feels, he won’t buy it.

You end up giving birth earlier than planned and Asmo almost throws up because birth doesn’t look like he thought it would

Super nervous during your pregnancy because you’re in pain and there’s lots of noises.

Busies himself doing your makeup because that’s the only way he can handle the situation. You’re holding his tail and he SWEARS you’re going to break it off!

The bros help deliver his little angel and Asmo is SMITTEN. ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN.

Holding his baby 24/7.

Loses sleep just because he watches them sleep. Sometimes he loses sleep for real because DAMN, babies don’t sleep a lot, do they?

It’s really hard to adjust to and he’s surprised his skin isn’t god-awful.

Doesn’t regret a thing, fawning over their tiny nails and little curls, and OMG EVERYTHING! Cries a lot because they’re just perfect

His wardrobe reflects his dad status but he still looks like a DILF. You can give him the most classic dad attire and it just looks good on him.

Beelzebub

He’s excited about your pregnancy. Boy honestly tried for it, you know? Studied positions and everything.

Beelzebub has so much love and the idea of holding a tiny someone just warms his heart

Everything kid-related is totally foreign to him except for how to act with them. He and Belphie were the youngest so he was used to being taken care of until he got old enough to climb and eat on his own.

The type of guy to need explicit, step-by-step instructions on EVERYTHING. He doesn’t have a brain for it like Satan or Lucifer, so he needs help

Seriously. Give him a checklist for baby-proofing and he’ll get it done.

Gets pretty down about not being able to cuddle and snuggle like normal, but he’ll look into safe ways to do so.

Has special snuggles with the baby. Kisses your belly and rubs it. Talks to your baby like the little demon it is (even if it doesn’t have a name yet).

Lives for the times you talk to the baby, talk yourself out of bed, or how you absently talk to your belly throughout the day.

Works out to deal with stress and nerves, but also because he wants to be a good, strong dad

The doctors give him a list of exercises you can do and he does them with you

Can’t really take the nutrition advice seriously. He eats pretty much everything and you probably will, too.

When people ask him about your pregnancy, he uses very inclusive language (”We’re expecting, etc.”)

You make mini-dates out of your late-night cravings. Beel is totally in love with it.

Beelzebub becomes your food finder. There’s been times where you look at him so cutely, so imploringly, and all you can manage is ‘spicy and crunchy’. He’ll find you something, don’t worry! He’s an expert!

Big on massages and cuddling. Likes to cup his hands over your belly and trace it.

The type of dad to gain weight with you as your pregnancy moves along. Becomes soft, strong dad.

Finds out you’re having twin boys and has the happiest crying session ever. Belphie is the first to know and all Beel can say is ‘Just like us!’ as he nearly crushes his twin to death.

Likes to dress them in cute and comfy clothes. Animal onesies? Yes!

At some point yours twins are going to look like hotdogs and hamburgers. There’s no shortage of food costumes thanks to Levi, Asmo, and Beel.

Suspicious about baby food, bugs Satan about how nutritious it is, and tries all of it just to be sure.

Some of their teething toys look like real food. Beelzebub ate one on accident.

Is a perfect gentle giant. Afraid of hurting them, for they are tiny and precious, but gets over that pretty quickly.

Always wants to cuddle and hold them. You have to make him leave them alone to sleep. Gets kind of sad when they’re napping because he can’t make faces at them or hear them laugh. Right back to his usual self when they wake up, though.

You best believe they learn their alphabet by studying food. Beelzebub will stand in the kitchen and dig through the pantry until he finds things that match the letters of the alphabet 

Belphegor

He’s kind of surprised you ended up pregnant because the sex is usually lazy and casual. Yes, he has the moments where it’s pretty hardcore, but...wow. For some reason, he just didn’t see you getting pregnant.

Secretly hopes you have more than one kid. Something in him would just be happy if there’s more than one kid. You think it comes from the time he spent alone in the attic but never say it.

Sleeps a lot more. Not out of avoidance or anything, but because naps will be rare in the future. He likes to think he’s stockpiling sleep.

Makes sure you’re comfy at all times.

Would love for you to sleep and be cozy but apparently that’s not healthy for humans, so he takes easy walks around the house and keeps you semi-active.

He’ll give you his cow pillow to use as a back pillow. It’s his way of letting the baby use it until he can share it with them.

Listens to a lot of audiotapes about parenting. Looks at books, too, but does better with audio. 

Reads a new bedtime story to your kid every night.

Sometimes you guys sleep in the star room so he can talk to them about constellations. They can’t see anything, of course, but he still goes into detail.

Isn’t much of a picture person and doesn’t see the point in taking maternity pictures. It’s actually because Belphie has a photographic memory so he remembers everything.

The bros force him into taking maternity pictures.

The type to journal everything. He writes a big-ass, super-detailed diary for the baby.

Is kind of worried about his temperament, so he’ll take some classes on how to handle stress and stuff before the babies arrive

Becomes King of Lists. There’s lists for everything. Lists help. Lists are good.

When he finds out you’re having triplets (a boy and two girls), he doesn’t know how to react. You saw him smile though. It doesn’t sink in until you’re hugging him. “I’m never sleeping again,” he realizes with absolute terror.

Beelzebub is super excited. “That’s twins plus a bonus!”

Very snobby about the nursery decor. Also very tactile like Asmodeus. If it doesn’t feel good, it’s not going in the nursery.

Wants a barn-themed nursery (to include as many cow-related things as possible)

You get the comfiest PJs.

With three kids, he lives by embroidery. He has to have a way to tell them apart, after all (the girls, at least).

Can’t hoard the babies but wants to. Hates that he doesn’t have enough arms to hold them all at the same time.

Is very interested by their tendency to hold each other and nap together. Finds it super adorable.

Makes a super-sized crib he can climb in and sleep with them. It’s basically a Belphie-sized bed with little attachments his kids sleep in. Separates them all just enough so he doesn’t worry about hurting them, but there’s still contact

Thanks whatever god exists that they mostly stay on a schedule together. Makes it stressful for changing diapers, but very fun to feed them.

Almost dies laughing when Lucifer holds them for the first time because one vomited on him, the other sneezed in his face, and one pooped so much it got on his pants leg.

Lulls them to sleep with his happy purr, and gets woken up from a dead sleep by pure love when they make the sound back. Suddenly there’s three chirpy purrs rolling against him and he’s in love.

Proud they love their mama so much (to the point of being TOTAL mama’s kids), but also kind of relieved he can breathe.

The three trade off occasionally when they realize he’s free real estate and come to him for snuggles. They all love him so he doesn’t mind.

This house supports cuddle piles! Belphie got them hooked on group naps for a young age and they sleep together now. 

Hope you liked it :)

[khaleesiofalicante]

Yeah, here I am once again. Appearing after the chaos I created 😂 but OMG WE HAVE ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT?? AND THEN THERE COMES THE ANGST?? I'M READY😎

I'm glad to inform you I finished the homework and I have only two assignments and two exams left that I will today :)) It was like:

Me: Maybe I should do this tomorrow??

Brain: But what about Dani?? And the chapter??

Me: Fuck, you are right, I need to do this :(

But anyways, here I am:

"He had been woken up by music, by love, by violence and by nightmares. And out of all those times, out of all those centuries, this was easily his favourite way to wake up." just the beginning and I'm having lots of feels🥺🥺

“Happy anniversary,” Magnus grinned against the other man’s mouth. “Happy anniversary,” Alec whispered. Fifteen years.Fifteen years since Alec Lightwood loved one man so much that he had changed the world for him." 15 YEARS? HRJWKDJDJ LOVE THEM💙

"Magnus understood why his son was acting all over the place. The boy was supposed to take up the position of Consul after Alec" *singing "Oh baby, no baby, you got it all wrong baby" *

"Next thing he knew, Alec was on top of him. His mouth was on Magnus. Where, exactly, Magnus didn’t notice – or care. He liked Alec everywhere." OH WELL, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY! 😏

"Not the kind of banging he had hoped to start the day with to be honest." OH god😂😂 I love this man. He is the bane of my existence!” (I just-  The puns are killing me 😂)

“It might be karma, darling,”  (He got a point. Karma is a bitch)

“Since when do you have a problem with excessive glitter?” (Yeah Alec, Your excuses are getting worst 😂)

"You better do it, or I will tell everyone about your secret" YOU LITTLE SHIT!

"That child is the reincarnation of Christopher Lightwood!” 😂😂 i literally scared my dog cause I laughed so hard!!

"There were whispers and rumours all over the shadow world that Angel Raziel had given up on Alec’s Clave." OH THE FUCK NO!! I SWEAR I WILL THROW SOME HANDS AT HEAVEN!! "Because if Magnus found out Raziel was the one causing all this pain for Alec, he would march up to heaven and set the bastard on fire himself." FUCK YEAH. I'M COMING WITH YOU!! 🔪 🔪

“Livia Blackthorn had been listening through the Idris wards to gather pieces of information that might be crucial for Alec’s Council.” I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT WAS LIVVY!!

Selena is Ragnor’s favorite!!! I LOVE IT

“The shadowhunter was a good influence on him. Magnus hoped Alec would see it sooner rather than later.”😂😂 You love him Alec and you know it!!

“She walked over to Magnus and hugged him tightly. And he sensed it immediately. The second heartbeat.” What?? WHAT??? I ALMOST SCREAMED. OMG. OMG

“Magnus stared at the necklace. The necklace he had bought in the 19th century for Camille. The necklace that had ended up in the hands of Will Herondale and then his sister. The necklace that had belonged to the Lightwood family for generations.” OMG SHE IS GIVING HIM THE LIGHTWOOD NECKLACE!!! THAT THING LITERALLY COMPLETE THE CIRCLE. BELONGED TO MAGNUS, CAMILLE, WILL, CECILY, ALL THE LIGHTWOODS AND THE MAGNU’S SON!!

I'm freaking out now because Izzy doesn't know??? Or maybe she does???And it's waiting to tell them?? I feel like a worried parent!!!

“But he knew it was all part of growing up. He would never pressure them to talk about their feelings or force them to make themselves vulnerable. All he could do was be there for them when they were ready to let it all out. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Magnus asked. He tried. Just in case.” What do I see here? Parenting doing right💙💙

“If you want love, you must be willing to accept the vulnerability that comes with it.” I just. This man gives the best advice ever!!

“I’ll try,” Rafael promised. “I don’t like lying.” “I know,” Magnus smiled. “So much like your dad.” But Alec did lie though. Magnus pushed the thought away. (Why is this such a rollercoaster??)

“His children were so much like his husband that sometimes it made Magnus wonder if they needed him at all. It was a ridiculous thought of course. But it stilled swam around his head. Sometimes a part of him thought it would be better if Alec had been the one to stay back and Magnus was the one to leave. The kids would be better off with Alec, his mind said. He always knew what to do with them.” IT'S NOT OK TO MAKE ME CRY WHEN I HAVE AN EXAM IN 3 MINUTES!!

Back from my exam 😂😂 And don’t worry. Just got one mistake :))

“Max of course was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. His regular look. But just below the pearl necklace wrapped around his neck was the Lightwood necklace.” YES. MAX WEARING THE LIGHTWOOD NECKLACE!!

“Alec walked out of their bedroom a moment later, and Magnus quite literally felt his heart stutter. Fifteen years. Fifteen years of loving and Alec still made his heart stutter.” They are the reason I believe in love💙💙

“If Magnus wasn’t wrong, he could see the thin layer of kohl under Alec’s blue eyes. Alec rarely enjoyed wearing makeup. But he rarely enjoyed saying no to children too. Magnus threw Rafael a grateful smile and the boy winked back.” Magnus and Rafael getting Alec to wear makeup is my will to live 😂😂

“The words died on Alec’s lips when his eyes fell on Magnus. The man sighed as he stared at Magnus. Fifteen years. Fifteen years and Magnus still took Alec’s breath away.” Jagcydwjendieu I’m emo

What?” Magnus asked coyly. “Is it too much?” “You know damn well it’s not,” Alec hissed and pulled Magnus towards him. “You look perfect. How do you look so perfect?” “Because I am standing next to you,” Magnus smiled.( They bad/perfect flirting it's just *chef kiss*)

“Bapak is a good looking one in the family,” Rafael pointed out. “You are the chaotic one and I am the smart one.” “What am I then?” Alec asked dryly. “A sack of potatoes?” “You’re the sexy one,” Magnus grinned. “A sexy sack of potatoes.” (THAT FAMILY IS KILLING ME IN THE GOOD WAY💙💙)

Magnus nudged Rafael on the back. The boy sighed and walked to his brother. “Come,” he took Max’s hand and led him to his bedroom. “Let’s find you something nice to wear, okay?” Max mumbled again but followed Rafael anyway. (I just can’t with all the love this family has!!!)

“Nope,” Alec said. “They are stuck with me.” “And you’re stuck with me,” Magnus replied. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Magnus,” Alec randomly speaks poetry… And he says he is not good with words??

“Selena was wearing a blue crop top with the words “MIND YOUR OWN UTEREUS” written in gold. David was in a simple sky-blue t-shirt, the colour of Max’s magic.” OK BUT THEM?? THEY’RE BEAUTIFUL

“Max hadn't changed his clothes. But he was wearing a blue leather jacket that belonged to Rafael. He looked happy about it.” I said it once and I will say it again. They are the definition of siblings

NO!! IT'S TIME FOR THE TOAST. I’M GOING TO CRY!!

"To Alec and Magnus - for being themselves and inspiring everyone else to do the same." CHEERS TO THAT BRO!!

“Isabelle,” Magnus called gently. “Let’s go easy on the champagne tonight, yes?” YES IZZY. I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU AND YOU NEED TO REST AND BE PROTECTED OK? OK

“The argument of “who gave the best gift” had started when Jace and Izzy had gotten drunk on vodka. It didn’t help that Alec had gotten drunk as well. All three Lightwood siblings had then proceeded to have an argument about who had the best spouse. The whole night had been drunken chaos. “

“So, Magnus had let his husband be that 18-year-old boy again. The boy who got drunk and fought with his siblings and sang songs about Magnus’ pretty eyes” 💙💙💙💙 This is just to pure

Ok, I feel like this is the chapter of the snippet from a long time ago. The one of Alec and Magnus in the closet while Mavid were talking, but I’m not sure

Why couldn’t this boy just cause chaos during his travel year like the rest of them? Why did he actually study and do his research as recommended?😂😂LMAOO

“Magnus didn’t know why. But the room suddenly felt rather hot. Poor David noticed his discomfort and came to his rescue. But unfortunately, the rescue attempt only made it worse” David, I love you with all my entire heart, but seriously??

DANI, NO! We have already been through this!! I have trauma out of this!!

OK, ok. It could have been worst

“But the time for talking was done. They were living it now.” I SWEAR I’M NOT CRYING!!

“Afraid of what?” Magnus asked. “I’m afraid you won’t find me attractive,” Alec said so quietly that Magnus barely heard it (MY HEART!!)

“But death is so much better than this. It’s so much better than waiting for the day you look at me and I no longer see that spark in your eyes.” THIS. THIS WAS THE DEAD OF ME

Fuck, i have an exam in 5 minutes and now I’m crying

Finally out of the exam 😂 This teacher literally asks us a question from the guidebook and if it's not 100% what it said there, then we fail

But going back to this HOLY SHIT I LOVE MAGNUS!!

“Did something say something to you?” Jace demanded, standing up angrily. “Because I swear by the angel-” “Nobody said anything, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes. “I own a mirror!” “And is this mirror broken or something?” Isabelle asked incredulously. “Alec, honestly!” (I BELIEVE IN LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS SUPREMACY!!)

“Yeah, man!” Simon nodded. “You are objectively good looking.” “Objectively good looking?” Jace snorted. “Excuse you, but my parabatai is smoking hot! He is a freaking prize, okay? If we had a magazine for hot shadowhunters, you would be on the cover page. Every single issue.” “Okay, that’s enough!” Alec interrupted. “Magnus, are you happy? Now all my friends have told me I am pretty.” “I said smoking hot,” Jace corrected. (*Sighs* I fucking love parabatai)

“Dad, I don’t know why you are so worried,” Max said in a bored tone. “You’re a total DILF.” David choked on his champagne and Jace patted him on the back. I’m dying jajdhuwejdjkew😂😂

“It means Dashing and Irresistible Looking Father” Singing again *Oh baby, no baby, you got it all wrong baby* Idk when this turned from Alec feeling self conscious to Thirsting Over Alec Lightwood-Bane but I’m here for it. Seriously. My mom is in front of me. She thinks and doing homework. And I’m just trying to keep a straight face (so hard) This is not working. I’m about to scream😂😂

2I can’t understand how you could look at yourself and not see what I see.”

“They stared at the picture on Max’s wall. The picture of Max and Rafael grinning ear to ear when they had visited Peru to piss Magnus off.” THOSE LIL SHITS!

tiEvery me they call each other baby my skin clears and i have three more years of life

“No,” Magnus managed a smile. “Sometimes things are just sad. So, you need to let yourself be sad.” 💙💙

“It’s Max!” Alec said. “We have to hide!" “Hide? This is our home!” (OH BOY😂😂)

I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAVE THE SCENE!! “When I die, I will love you from my grave,” David said now. “I will love you from heaven.” WHY DO THEY ALL SPEAK POETRY?

Don’t let him go, Magnus whispered to Max inside his heart. Don’t ever let him get away.” MAVID IS JUST SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!

“He wondered how strong a person must be to not give up on guardian angels and the idea of heaven after being dragged through hell by his demon of a father.” My boy is strong af

“I don’t believe in angels or heaven,” Alec said then. “But I feel blessed to be loved by you too.” Magnus smiled against Alec’s neck. “Stop stealing David’s dialogues.”💙💙 I have said this to much but I love them

“For the rest of the night, they danced and laughed and drank and smiled. Of course, there was the sadness of time hanging over their heads. But they ignored it. They focused on the love in front of them.” These lines are just amazing

“And sorry,” David said quickly. “I apologize if I said something out of turn before. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble-” BOY COULD YOU STOP BEING PERFECT??

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it matters who you brought the necklace for,” David said, his blue eyes on Magnus. “Everything you do is out of love, Mr. Lightwood-Bane. And I think that’s beautiful.” EVEN MAGNUS STAY SPEECHLESS!!

“That’s not what I meant,” Jace shook his head. “David and Max. A shadowhunter and a warlock. They are together. They are happy. That’s cause of you, Alec. You and Magnus did that.” Magnus smiled at this husband. “Listen to your parabatai. He gets wise so very rarely.” YES THEY DID. I’M SO FUCKING PROUD!

“But he did it now. For Alec. Because Alexander Lightwood always has been and always will be his only exception.” The Malec feelings I’m getting from this are to much

“Magnus smiled. “How do I look?” “Immaculate,” Alec whispered. In the mirror, Magnus could see himself. His dark hair was woven with strands of gray. He had wrinkles on his face, just around the eyes. When Magnus smiled, his eyes crinkled.” OMG OMG!! I’M CRYING

“Magnus took Alec’s hand in his and put it over his heart. “Promise me you will stop smoking.” THANK YOU MAGNUS. LITERALLY THANK YOU!!

“I don’t care how they look at me. I care how you look at me," Alec smiled softly. "Because I only ever look back at you, Magnus.” Alec says these things like they aren’t worth a museum

I would never tell you what to do with your body, Alexander. But-” “Well, you tell me sometimes,” Alec snickered against his mouth. “Stop making jokes to avoid serious conversations,” Magnus slapped his husband on the arm. “That’s my thing.”😂😂

“Magnus stayed awake that night. He stayed awake and told his brain to cherish every single memory from tonight. That’s how Magnus spent every night. He would stay awake and ask his mind to remember.” THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND ACCURATE I ACTUALLY FORGET ITS NOT CANON

“And then he dreamt.In his dream, he saw them again. But they weren’t smiling this time.” :) Seriously?? SERIOUSLY? I’M SO DONE, YET I’M STILL HERE??

Ugh this was so beautiful i just can- I closed Tumblr so I didn’t get spoiled 😂 Amazing as always and I’m just going to have Malec feels for the rest of the day.

P.s. I was listening to One Last Time by LP and got even more emo 💙💙

This whole thing me so emo wtf 😭😭😭

I love your reactions so much 🥺🥺🥺

Also you reading fanfiction minutes before the exam is such a big dick move istg never change bro 😎

[tea-with-cinnamontoast]

"I am impertinent!" Percy said.

[a/n: kinda crack but do i care? nope. anyway context: remember that scene where percy sent the gods medusa's head? yeah, the gods were concerned]

Hermes rushed into the Olympian throne room, carrying a rather large box signed by a boy named Percy Jackson. Earlier today he had been busy, not realizing that one of the mail was to himself, or rather, the whole Olympian Council.

"Mount Olympus

600th Floor,

Empire State Building

New York, NY

With best wishes,

PERCY JACKSON"

the boy had written, then putting a pouch of Drachma for a Hermes Express. The god knew who this boy was, Poseidon's child, but wasn't sure what was inside the box. The godly 'know-it-all' is Athena or Apollo's job. Nope, that wasn't in the god of thieves' job description. Hermes had informed his family about the package, telling them it was from a demigod. That took triggered everyone's curiosity.

The god sat up on his throne, holding the box on his lap. He just finished today's shift and was tired, but the package is killing him. The immortal answered calls from his caduceus-phone, with his curly brown hair dangling by the side. He looked about 21 and was wearing some jogging pants an a normal shirt with "bros before hoes" written on it.

A few minutes later, others started arriving, first one being Athena. Typical. The goddess would always arrive as soon as she's called or on time, depending on how sudden it was. Her stormy grey eyes looked to the package and examined it for a while. Hermes hummed and Athena sat on her throne, contemplating and thinking about what the mail could be. After all, it's not everyday (every century, in fact) that the gods get a package to Olympus.

Hera, Aphrodite, and Ares came in, with the girls having their normal chitchat and Ares just silently walking. Apollo and Artemis came next, with the twins still on hunting gear. Apollo's daily shift just finished and it was Artemis' turn, but she poofed herself here. Hephaestus and Demeter arrived and sat on their thrones. Dionysus wasn't allowed to join. Then, bickering can be heard.

"I am not guilty, dearest brother! Why would I even take your Master Bolt!" Poseidon growled, opening the door to the room. "How am I supposed to know, Poseidon! It is not I who decided it was a rather amusing idea to steal my Master Bolt!" Zeus boomed in the room. Hestia sat by the hearth, silently trying to calm her brothers down. As they argued, the other Olympians flinched and groan, if it were possible.

"Lord Zeus, Lord Poseidon. Please be seated," Hera commanded, feeling the discomfort around her and from herself. They kept fighting whenever they see each other. Zeus hated Perseus Jackson for stealing his bolt, and yet there were no proof of that. He had just gotten claimed in camp, but ol' thunderpants was sure it was the barnacle beard's doing. Through his demigod son.

The sea god and the sky god grumbled something, glared at each other, and then decided to take a seat. Hermes figured it would be the perfect time for him to flutter down and show them the package. "So, um, we all know that a demigod sent us this package," the god of messengers' voice echoed. He hesitated. "Well, it was from Perseus Jackson."

Silence covered the room. Zeus looked like he was going to zap some poor, unfortunate mortal into dust. Poseidon got curious, what would his son possibly send them? He had a bad feeling. The others were amused on this demigod's bravery, knowing very well he was stuck in the middle of a fight Percy didn't know existed until now.

A look in Apollo's face flashed, only for a while and if Hermes didn't observe the room, he wouldn't have noticed. The sun god's looks went unnoticed, but Hermes knew that face. It was the manner of the god of prophecy's visions, even only near-time future. The blonde looked more amused, and then full-on laughed.

"Apollo. Apollo. Apollo!" their father called. The sun god stopped, composing himself, but letting a giggle or two escaped. "What is the meaning of this?" Ol' Thunderpunch asked, glaring at the poor sun god. "Nothing, father. Just... a little vision." Hermes knew well enough that it was about the mysterious 'gift' from the oh-so-humble Jackson. "Let us hope it is my bolt," Zeus mumbled.

The god of messengers opened the box, as the others watched. Slowly, he began to unravel the layers of plastic covering the... thing. Hermes grabbed a part of the thing and it felt like snakeskin. Multiple of them. Who in the right godsdamn mind would sent a god, or the whole council in this case, a lot of snakeskin?

Apollo looked like he was tearing, holding the chuckles that were going to erupt. Steadily, Hermes grabbed it and held it up, revealing Medusa's head.

Yeah okay, gods cannot get petrified by the gorgon, but holy hades was that horrific to see, considering they have seen wars, nasty ones at best. The head's eyes looked glossy and opened its eyes on them. The snakes started hissing and sort of alive. Yeah... it wasn't the best nor sane gift they've gotten.

"WHAT THE HADES!" Demeter yelped. It's not like they see a severed head everyday, and they're immortal. Apollo laughed in amusement, earning a few quizzical looks and glares. Hermes felt like throwing the head down the mountain, or building if you will. He had the urge to slice it and send it back to Tartarus. Wow, this demigod really is impertinent, but brave. Reckless, yet courageous.

Poseidon sighed in "what the fuck" and "honey, you didn't" and muttered something about impulsivity being a genetic thing. Athena just gasped in horror, Aphrodite looked like she was about to hurl. Ares wanted to pulverize the kid and Hephaestus just looked amazed. Artemis looked disgusted, trying her best to cover it, clearly failing. Only Hera looked more or less collected. Confused, but calmly looking at it.

"Let me kill the boy!" Zeus bellowed, Poseidon standing up to interfere. "You do not hurt my son," the sea god responded. But Hermes has a trick up his sleeve. "Lord Zeus, I think I have a better idea," showing his infamous mischievous grin. "He wants to send this to us?" he grabbed a magic pen, "Then let's just return it."

[prettywordsyouleft]

How To Love

Summary: Brian hoped taking you out on a date would help you both connect more like most couples did. Except, with him being a ghost, going on a date proves to be harder than either of you anticipated.

Pairing: Brian Kang x reader (ft. Day6)

World: Spiritual Connection (masterlist HERE)

Genre: ghost au / angst-fluff / valentines au

Warnings: none

A/N: Happy Valentines to everyone who celebrates it! As promised at Christmas, we are returning to our beloved manor house to see how the ghosts are doing. I did want to write about them all but it appears Brian was a little needy this time around so he got a story all to himself! I hope you enjoy it.

For those new to this world, this story’s context won’t make any sense without reading the previous stories before this. They are linked in the masterlist shared above.

Word count: 6292

Placing down the book he had just completed, Brian let out his umpteenth sigh for the day. It wasn’t the book’s fault. He had read this story many times over his years of existence and usually it held his attention well.

Tonight, however, Brian was too distracted to let the words fully infiltrate his mind, his thoughts wandering towards the dilemma he was faced with.

Things at the seaside manor had been going well. In fact, business hadn’t been better. Although it hadn’t been long since Christmas break, as soon as the doors reopened, guests would come and go every week in larger volumes than before. And whilst Brian was thrilled that your bed and breakfast venture had really taken off, it had some disadvantages.

Since you were spending your Saturday evening entertaining your guests whilst he was stuck in the study alone.

Glancing down at the love story he had been attempting to read, Brian lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. For someone who didn’t feel the same as he had when he was alive, he could still sense the weariness within his soul. He was tired of all of the distinctions between you and him, and reading about a love that held different worries than he had couldn’t ease his mind or heart.

Brian craved something more tangible to his existence. Since his death, over a century had passed by. And during that time, he hadn’t really questioned a lot about anything. Sure, he had his profound moments, inspired to write his feelings down in poetry. But that was it. He had accepted his time and place in this realm. Yet, just because he was dead, didn’t mean his emotions had died off.

Had that happened, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.

And it was due to the intensity of such emotions that everything felt insufferable right now.

“Here you are!” a voice called and it perked him instantly, despite it being more masculine than your tone. Turning to look in Dowoon’s direction, Brian gave his friend a curious look. “I should have known to find you inside of a book!”

“What’s up?”

“Sungjin and I are going to go walk Custard down the beach. You keen?”

Smiling lightly, Brian thought how peaceful that would be. Custard was Dowoon’s pride and joy, a dog you had got for his friend for Christmas. Brian was certain Dowoon loved his canine friend more than anyone else in this house. Custard was all too eager to spend every moment – awake or asleep – with Dowoon too.

Now I’m jealous of a dog, Brian lamented, shaking his head softly. Whilst the thought of stretching his legs and attempting to take in the salty air of the sea did sound enticing, he could already see who he wanted to do that with.

And it wasn’t Dowoon, Custard or Sungjin, sadly.

“Maybe another time.”

“Alright, suit yourself! Ah, if you get peckish, Sarah has made her infamous brownie for the house guests and served up the edges on a plate in the kitchen.”

Brian chuckled. “Peckish? Us dead folk don’t need to eat.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t a nice concept now and then,” the tall man suggested with a shrug, giving Brian a final look before departing the room.

He contemplated the idea. Brian’s thoughts shifted back to the first time he shared a drink with you when you moved into the manor house as an adult. No longer were you simply the child who grew up in this house each summer when visiting Pearl, your grandmother. You had arrived and stirred a lot more than the dust and bric-a-brac left behind with her passing. Brian found himself smiling at the many times after you had both shared a meal together.

Maybe, Dowoon was right.

Pushing back his chair, Brian made his way out of the study and down to the kitchen, stopping in the threshold when he overheard the conversation between the occupants of the room.

“Shh! What if someone hears you talking? It will look like you’re talking to yourself!”

“Wonpil, don’t be so silly! Everyone’s being entertained in the main living room right now. We’re completely alone down here.”

“You make it sound as if you like that idea,” his friend mentioned and Brian cleared his throat noisily, his bitterness overshadowing any guilt he felt at breaking up the couple’s alone time. Wonpil, clutching his heart, heaved a little with his fright. “You could have given us fair warning!”

“Why? Your heart won’t jump out of your chest with a little scare,” Brian remarked, reaching for a piece of brownie on the table. He held it up and smiled. “I was told to come for this.”

“Yes, but Sarah’s heart could and as much as that could simplify things, I’d much rather she live out a full life until she joins us in the afterlife.”

The only living human in the room swatted a bashful hand out at Wonpil. “Stop it!”

“I won’t! You are special to me how you are!”

And that signalled Brian’s departure from the kitchen, unsure if the brooding overwhelming him stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t really taste the chocolatey goodness of the treat within his hand that he nibbled on, or because he had to agree with Wonpil to some extent.

If you weren’t just like Sarah, someone who possessed a beating heart, that would simplify things. You would be on a level playing field. Brian knew nothing was ever truly equal in relationships – dead or alive. Still, it would mean you wouldn’t be doing everything so separately. He couldn’t help you run the guest house. He wasn’t able to assist you with your guests like Sarah could. Of course, he did his fair share around the manor where he could, and you were always grateful for that. But it didn’t change the fact that if he walked into the living room right now, only you would see him. Further, you couldn’t interact with him other than in subtle ways that wouldn’t bring attention to the living.

Sensing movement by the front door that he had mindlessly wandered towards, he gave a small smile to Jae who was slipping into his jacket.

“Oh bro! Had enough of the books?”

Shrugging loosely, Brian rocked back on his heels. “What are you up to? Do you want-”

Jae tipped his head to the side as he brushed down the collar to his jacket and then grinned. “Me? It’s date night.”

“A-Again?” Brian breathed incredulously and his friend nodded.

“You know how it is. Married life is all about making sure you keep things fresh and healthy. Date night is a part of that.”

Swallowing down a bitter curse that he, in fact, did not know how any of it was, Brian smiled again, albeit more strained this time. “Where are you going?”

“Downtown theatre.”

“Aren't they only showing Little Women right now? You saw that last week.”

“Gotta keep the Mrs happy, Brian,” Jae announced and then smiled as his Mrs, also known as Becky, came into view.

Her ruby lips twisted up with disdain. “I heard you.”

“I know you did and that was why I kept my talk decent,” Jae quipped, leading his wife out the front door of the manor house with a hasty farewell wave to Brian as he left him behind.

Brian sighed heavily once the pair had gone. Even if they bickered more often than not, he was jealous of them. At least, they prioritised having a date night.

Had he ever gone out on a date with you? Sure, he spent most of his time in your company. You would wake up together, run errands in town or the closest city, sometimes walking along the beach like the others were right now. On the odd occasion, if you didn’t pass out early from exhaustion from running the bed and breakfast, you would curl up in his arms and catch up or read books together. Eventually though, you would fall asleep and a new day would arrive just like that.

Time never had much value to him until he started being with you. It felt like there was never enough of it, moments stolen in between house chores and setting up for new arrivals.

The longer he went through the catalogue of his moments with you in his mind, he realised he had never gone out of his way to call anything a date. Glancing at the large event board by the coat closet, he moved closer to inspect the decorated part of the calendar, indicating that Valentine’s Day was just around the corner. Smiling, he finished his piece of brownie with more enthusiasm before clapping his hands together.

He knew what he had to do.

You smiled brightly when you felt arms slip around your waist from behind you, instinctively leaning back and allowing Brian to step in closer. You nuzzled into him briefly. “Well hello, handsome.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You gestured to the various hues of pink and red that you were using to decorate the living room. “It’s the month of love.”

“The month of love?” he echoed, chuckling softly. “I thought Valentine’s was only a day in February. One in which, I’m certain I heard you proclaim was not your cup of tea.”

Turning around in his arms, Brian grinned at your expression. You scrunched your nose up further. “If I’m honest, it is really cliché. I mean, you should show your partner that you love them every day, right?”

He didn’t answer, simply staring back at you and hoping that you could feel what he did deep down. Brian never questioned your love for him. He just wished you realised how you prioritised him in your schedule.

And how little lately.

“However, from a business standpoint, Valentine’s is the perfect time to whisk your loved one off somewhere to have a little rendezvous. We’re completely booked out for the entire week that Valentine’s falls on.”

Brian’s mood dampened. “Really? You didn’t plan to have even one day off?”

“Now why would I do that?” you questioned, moving away from him to return to your decorations.

“Because you did during Christmas.”

You laughed and shot him a look. “There’s a huge difference between both events. Besides, we had a Christmas wedding to plan for.”

“Would it take another wedding for you to take time off again?” he wondered with a heavy breath and you stopped hanging the balloons, turning back to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I was hoping we could have some time together that week. A whole day, actually.”

You cocked your head to the side, intrigued. “Why?”

“Do you know we’ve never gone on an actual date, Y/N?”

“We haven’t?” Brian shook his head and you fell silent.

“Becky and Jae go on one almost every week.”

“That’s because they can.”

“Why can’t we?” he asked, a little hurt by your response. You could tell and swallowed slowly. “Because I’m not alive?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you mumbled, guilt washing over you. “Not at all. Hey! We do things together all the time! We just went to the city together last week.”

“To pick up plant boxes for the vegetable patch.”

“It was fun though. And it was just you and me.”

Brian sighed. “I meant, intentional time together. I want to do things with you like a proper couple does.”

“Can we do that?” you breathed and immediately shook your hands to dismiss your doubt. “Of course we can. We will!”

“You’ll give me one day of your time?”

“How about the day before Valentine’s?” you offered and Brian began to smile. You, however, looked stressed. “I’ll just ask Sarah to step up a bit whilst we’re gone. We will have the best date ever!”

He should have known with your hesitance that this date of yours would be a disaster.

Still, when you met him out in the foyer by the front door, Brian felt hopeful. You had put in some effort to how you looked; wearing one of the dresses he knew you had dug out of your grandmother’s wardrobe. It looked perfect on you and with a hooked arm extended out to you, Brian allowed you to curl a hand around it before leading the way out to the car.

For the trip to the city, you were both excited. Conversation flowed freely as did a lot of singing. He could see how affected you were after he sang along to a Michael Buble song on the radio, the hand he had held the whole trip growing a little clammy. It satisfied Brian to know he had charms about him still.

But it all turned pear-shaped when you pulled up at the restaurant you had made a reservation at. The maître d looked at you and then frowned. “Is your lunch partner running late?”

“What? No,” you answered, smiling at Brian and then swallowing down your easy reaction. Brian stiffened at your side. “Oh. Yes, they are.”

“I’m afraid right now we’re really busy and so we’ll have to seat you up at the bar. We’ll be able to find you a table when you’re ready.”

“Can’t I just be seated at a table for two regardless?”

He shook his head at your request. “Sorry, it’s our restaurant’s rules.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Brian breathed into your ear but you shook your head subtlety.

“I’ll just go somewhere else,” you announced, turning on your heel and hurrying back out to the car.

Brian stared at you when he was seated next to you again. Your cheeks were red and he could tell it wasn’t only with annoyance. He caressed your face softly. “I didn’t think that would be a rule in a restaurant.”

“It’s fine. We’ll still eat together, Brian. Who needs to go to a restaurant like that? Even though I look like this, I can eat anywhere!”

You both ended up in the food court, your determination now tapered out as you sat across from him staring down at your sushi. The noise within the eatery was louder than the ambience at your first stop and Brian pushed down his disappointment.

This wasn’t where he wanted to take you out to eat today.

“It’s fine,” you mentioned again when you caught his gaze, smiling for his benefit. “I love sushi.”

“I know you do.”

“What’s next on the list after eating?” you asked and Brian reached out for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I thought we could go to the museum together.”

You brightened. “I haven’t been in years.”

“It’ll be fun. You love old things,” he commented and you slyly grinned at him whilst nodding.

“You know, I really do.”

With your lunch eaten, you got back in the car to head to the museum together. A renewed energy stepped between you both as you began to look around, Brian swinging your hand in his gently as you walked around.

“Oh look!” you exclaimed, dragging him over to the Victorian section. You lit up as you inspected a selection of men’s outfits. Looking at Brian and then back at the mannequins, you giggled. “Are any of these looks for you?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in number three,” he breathed and you giggled. Looking towards the casual outfit on the end, Brian pointed. “That was more like me.”

“Oh, now that is very you!” you exclaimed, looking at his modern outfit and then back at what was once the type of clothes he wore. “Maybe you should try them on again?”

“I’d rather stay like this,” he announced quickly, pulling you away from the display.

For the following hour, it felt as close as it could to a date for Brian. Of course, there were a couple of instances where other viewers would step too close to him and he’d have to sidestep away quickly to avoid being walked through. Still, he was having a lot of fun and he could tell you were as well.

Yet, Brian had become aware of a small group that had been following you both around the museum, and more so of their stares in your direction.

“Who is she talking to?”

“She’s weird, don’t look at her.”

Brian attempted to ignore the jeers from them for some time before he let out a sigh, stepping in front of you with a weak smile. You placed a hand on his torso affectionately. “Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Pull out your phone.”

“It’s already in my hand,” you pointed out, now confused. “I’ve been taking photos!”

“I mean, pull it up to your ear. Do you have your earbuds? Maybe put one in.”

You slowly looked around yourself, realising what he was referring to. Brian closed his eyes to maintain his emotions, hating that you were now aware of the people whispering and looking. He wondered if it would have been better to leave you oblivious to it all.

Forcibly smiling, you pulled out your earbuds and angled your phone towards yourself so it looked like you were on a call. And from that moment out, the trip to the museum became subdued.

“Let’s forgo the gift shop and head back to the car, hm?” he offered when you had made your way back around to the exit, your head lowered in defeat. Brian rubbed your arms softly. “We can go and-”

“I want to find something to remember this outing by,” you mumbled, stepping away from him and going into the gift store. It took a few minutes for your head to lift back up to a level you could maintain without feeling uncomfortable. He could see in your eyes that you were trying to salvage the trip here. Stepping over to your side, he pointed at an arrangement of keyrings with the museum’s logo on it.

“What about one of those?”

You shook your head. “Anyone could have one of them. I want something more us.”

It was a slow process of finding something that you liked. A couple of times you got excited over an item and turned to show him it, only to stop mid-way and cast your gaze around the tiny shop to see if anyone was watching.

It was a keyring and magnet that you eventually settled on, your mood had fallen to a level that he felt he couldn’t retrieve it from. Still, Brian attempted to. “Do you want to go shopping? I’m sure we could cheer up looking at stores together.”

“I do need to get a couple of things from the mall,” you agreed quietly, driving the car to the closest one. With yourself fully armed this time from the start, you relaxed into your experience at the mall. You had done this many times together and perhaps that was why you seemed to grow your confidence again.

“Oh, let’s look in here!” you exclaimed, walking hastily towards a jewellery store. As you browsed, Brian lingered at your side, trying not to take much notice of the items. He didn’t know how to act within such a place. Of course, he wanted to take a deeper look at everything they had in stock. Although he might be a little outdated, even back in his times, he knew the importance of a fine gemstone on a necklace or ring. It made him uncomfortable because he wanted nothing more than to find something for you.

“Anything caught your eye?” you murmured when you looked back at him and Brian shrugged. Smiling, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the display boxes. Everything was so sparkly; it took him several blinks to actually focus on anything. You squeezed his hand before letting go, wandering around the store whilst he remained where you placed him.

Brian’s eyes were stuck on a delicate pendant. It held a blue stone within its centre, the metal surrounding it linked in a unique way to hold it together. He decided it reminded him of his love for you.

Brian didn’t even realise he was crying until he felt his cheeks were wet. You approached him calmly, peering at what caught his eye. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It is.”

“Blue topaz is your birthstone too, did you know that?”

He hadn’t but there was no way he could reply, overwhelmed by the pure need for the necklace. His eyes travelled to the price tag and sighed.

A ghost couldn’t exactly purchase anything.

“Excuse me,” you called out and Brian turned to stare at you, somewhat disconnected in the moment. He didn’t hear the rest of your sentence, but when the necklace was taken from the display and you stepped away from his side, he knew what you had done. Walking out of the store, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, collecting himself when you bounced up to his side and waggled the gift bag. “Here you go! Ah, I’ll carry for you until we’re back at the car!”

“Why did you do that?”

You beamed at him. “Because I could see what it meant to you.”

“I wanted to get it for you,” he explained and your smile evaporated. “I can’t even get you a god damn gift!”

“Brian,” you started but he shook his head, storming away from you and going back out to the car. He laughed bitterly when he was able to slip inside without you unlocking it. Because he wasn’t bound to the same world as you were. Although he could touch you and all the things that your realm held, he wouldn’t ever truly exist in it.

This date had been the worst idea he could ever have. It highlighted all his fears. Inside the manor house, you never seemed unattainable, apart from your endless working hours. But stepping out of the house he had stayed close to for the last century and trying to do something that normal people did had been foolish. Jae and Becky were an anomaly. Brian had learned today that dating was only for people who both either had hearts that moved or had turned to dust years ago.

Brian was in the study again, this time no book was held within his grip. Instead, you had left him with the small gift bag and headed into your bedroom, locking the door behind you, your tears muffled as he had listened on until he couldn’t take it any longer.

Looking down at the velvet case on the table, Brian snapped the lid open and stared at the necklace you had bought in his stead. He closed the lid with a sigh, only to open it again, repeating his actions even though they were taking quite a toll on his energy levels. He hadn’t expected going out on a date with you to be so exhausting.

No wonder Jae always crashed the day after his outings with Becky.

The door to the study opened and closed, though Brian had no interest in tearing his gaze away from the jewellery box before him. He blinked when a hand picked it up and a low whistle left the man before him. Sungjin then chuckled. “Wow, this is real nice.”

Brian gave no response, though his fingers reached out to touch the velvet once it was back on the table.

“Did you steal it?”

“That would take a lot of energy though perhaps I would feel more at ease had I.”

Sungjin chuckled softly. “No, it wouldn’t make you feel any better. And Y/N would have felt bad too. It’s best to do things in their realm the legal way.”

“Did … did you steal something?” Brian asked, glancing up and seeing the answer in Sungjin’s face. He gaped at his friend. “What was it?”

“A brooch,” he admitted, toying with the stack of books on the edge of the desk.

Brian sucked in a dramatic breath when he realised it was the one Pearl had worn all the time. “That brooch? I thought Pearl bought it!”

“My pride was knocked around from that ordeal. It sucks having to step back when it comes to dating though, huh?”

Brian nodded glumly. “I wanted to drive the car.”

“And hold open the doors?” Sungjin offered in which his friend agreed to with another nod.

“I wanted to make Y/N feel special and enjoy herself. Instead, all we did was constantly remind one another of our differences.”

“The only true difference you both have are that you were born over a century and a half ago and Y/N is from this time we’re existing in now. Your morals will be outdated in her world.”

“Hardly, there’s more and you know it.”

Sungjin shrugged, though his gaze was less nonchalant. “There’s only more if you allow them to be there. Why focus on the unimportant stuff?”

“Sungjin, the fact that I’m dead and Y/N’s not is kind of important.”

“Is it? I wasted far too many years of Pearl’s life thinking just like that, you know. To her, all she cared about was her feelings for me and mine of hers. All couples have to learn to compromise and accept how the other is. You’ve been doing that all along. Before this desire of yours to be more than you are, you were working well together, Brian.”

“Were we? I felt like I never did anything with her,” Brian lamented and his friend moved around the desk to pat him on the shoulder.

“So tell Y/N that, not me. You didn’t need to go all out on some fancy date to let her know what’s really been bothering you.”

“Is this how Y/N feels after talking with you?” he breathed as he got to his feet and Sungjin grinned.

“Hey, I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. It took me a damn long time to get here though. I don’t want to see either of you spend decades stuck in the wrong situation like I did with Pearl.”

“I wouldn’t let even a year pass by being away from Y/N,” Brian replied and Sungjin clapped him on the back.

“See, you’re already ahead of me. Now, how about you go let her know how you’ve been feeling!”

You were already asleep when Brian quietly entered your bedroom, slipping into the bed tentatively. When he had been alive, he had dated briefly and so the only arguments he had experienced were with those of his friends and family. Now in his afterlife, you had been his first true love. He didn’t know what was practical to do within the delicate situation afterwards, no matter how many relationships he had studied within novels over the decades. He laid still beside you, chewing on his lip until your body shifted closer, your arm soon flung over him. Brian reached for your hand gently, drawing it up to his chest and placing it there instead.

He knew when the morning arrived that he would tell you everything. Until then, he would enjoy the proximity you sought after as you dreamed, your body now pressed into him at multiple spots.

Despite his lack of actual sleep, Brian felt well-rested when you finally opened your eyes. And he smiled when you didn’t move away from him when you realised how curled up you were next to him.

“Morning.”

“Hi,” you breathed, swallowing visibly. “Brian, I’m sorry-”

“Can I go first?” he interrupted, smiling at you more warmly. He reached out to brush some of your hair away from your face. “I’ve been waiting all night long to tell you how I feel and I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“Did you not sleep?” He shook his head softly and you gasped. “Brian! You should have woken me up so you could get some sleep after talking!”

“I don’t need to sleep every night, remember?”

“Still,” you mumbled, pouting for effect.

“Can I tell you my thoughts?” he asked and you nodded softly, your gaze not leaving his. Brian smiled, reminding himself to actually start talking instead of admiring the way you respected that he needed to talk. He felt foolish for a fleeting moment.

He knew he could have told you all this before and you would have listened at any stage.

“I took you out on that date yesterday because I had convinced myself that was what was missing from us. I saw everyone around us doing their own thing with those that matter the most to them and believed that to do that with you too, I needed to step up, to do more couple focused events.”

“I did enjoy the concept of going out with you, Brian.”

“I know,” he told you, reaching out to cup your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently running along your skin. “And in the future, I hope we can do other things together out of the house. But the real reason for my attempt is that I stopped valuing my place here with you,”

You frowned. “What do you mean? You are everything to me!”

“So is your business,” he pointed out, sighing when your brows knitted together. “I started to feel it was easier to focus on the living as opposed to me because their needs are more visible here.”

Touching his neck with your hand, you smiled. “You’re visible to me too. But I do understand, I think. Things have been really busy when people started asking for longer stays and I went from working a certain amount of days to seven days a week.”

“Are you tired?”

You nodded. “I thought I had to prove more of myself with running the bed and breakfast. I got greedy from my success. Even when I was tired, I was consumed with doing better.”

“I wish I could help you with it and that we could run this together. But my place here doesn’t stand out as much as yours.”

“Really? You’re my favourite to talk about around the fireplace. A lot of people leave here charmed by this mysterious man they have seen the portrait of in the hallway. Don’t tell the others but you’re a crowd favourite. Must be these handsome looks of yours.”

Brian smirked. “I think it’s all down to how much you talk me up.”

“You know, it’s not the same, but I hope you know you’re welcome in the room during the times when I’m entertaining. You’ve shared your stories with me in the past and I relay them. But you could be there to help me with them. And in return, I’ll try to find balance with how much I let this place overrun me. As much as I love sharing my joy for the manor, all the people who live here are the true reason this house is magical to me. You are my longest friend, Brian. Before all this-”

You gestured between you both with a proud smile before continuing. “-you and the others were my five childhood friends who I felt safe around. I still feel safe here and I don’t believe I’m missing out on anything just because I can’t go eat in a fancy restaurant with you. I’d much rather cook together here.”

“Do you know I adore how honest you are?” he wondered, moving to rest his forehead on yours. “Here I was withholding my feelings because I worried we weren’t real enough.”

“Oh, we’re real, Brian. I realised yesterday on the trip home that I was more embarrassed with myself than I was with our unique relationship. I don’t need approval from anyone but myself to love you.”

“If you could choose to wait for a lifetime where we’re alive together or keep what we have now, even with its differences, would you still choose now?”

You nodded immediately and his heart soared. “Of course. Besides, you promised along with Jae, Dowoon, Wonpil and Sungjin that you’d stay with me here until I’m joining you all over in the afterlife. This is just the entrée to our love together.”

“Are you hungry? You keep talking about food,” he asked with a chuckle and you giggled, nodding.

“I want to go make pancakes.”

“Why pancakes?”

“Well, it’s a special day for a lot of our guests but more so for us.”

“It is?”

You nodded. “Don’t you remember one year where I stayed here as a kid because my parents had to go on a business trip and my grandmother was unwell so you five all stood over the stovetop attempting to make a batch of pancakes for me to eat?”

“You remember that? God, I have all the time in the world to replay my existence and yet you recall that far more easily than I would. Was that Valentines Day?”

You nodded, pulling away from him and padding across your room to a familiar book on your shelf, slipping something out of it. Coming back over to the bed, you crawled to his side and handed over the card. Brian chuckled as he opened it. “You still have this?”

“You were my first Valentine.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in today?”

“I believe love should be shown every day, I’ve admitted that. But I do believe in this day. Not for the reason a lot of others do, just for the fact that it makes me think of you all.”

Brian leaned in to kiss you before brushing your hair away from your face. “You were my first Valentine too.”

“I doubt it. I bet you had ladies lining up for your hand. Look at you! So charming that even the mistresses of the house you served no doubt harboured feelings for you!”

“Are you jealous if they did?” he wondered, following you as you got up from the bed and headed out into the hallway, taking the path to the kitchen. Since it was early, none of the guests were out of their rooms yet.

You shot Brian a look. “Why be jealous when I have you now!”

“Who’s jealous?” Jae enquired when you both arrived in the kitchen, Brian surprised by the full turn out. Aside from Sarah who hadn’t stayed at the manor last night, the full-time residents were all seated at the table in the room.

“I am!” Sungjin proclaimed, pointing to everyone in the room. “Pearl can’t come to visit any time soon like she did over Christmas. Look at all these couples around me.”

Wonpil shook his head. “My love isn’t here yet.”

“Love? So it’s to that point already?” Becky breathed in amazement, clasping her friend’s hand in hers. And then she turned to you. “Y/N, is there a reason you wanted us all here today?”

“It’s pancake day,” you announced and went to retrieve two boxes of premixed pancake mix from the cupboard.

Dowoon grinned and stopped rubbing his dog’s tummy. “You really trust us to make these?”

“I think we’ll be tempting fate again,” Jae agreed, shuddering as Becky stared at her husband in confusion. Jae sighed heavily. “We were in charge of feeding Y/N one year when Pearl was unwell. It took us forty minutes to serve up the world’s worst breakfast.”

“It was my favourite breakfast,” you corrected, handing a box to Sungjin and Wonpil each. “And it’s Valentines. Can’t we all have some time together before I go make my guests feel the magic in the air or whatever it is?”

It was chaotic, to say the least. Still, after all the years that had passed, none of them had mastered the art of cooking in your realm. It wasn’t as if they truly needed to, given spirits didn’t need food to sustain themselves like you did. But thankfully this time, Becky was here and she managed to deter Jae from putting too much batter onto the pan at a time.

Watching everyone with a smile on his face, Brian quietly left the room to retrieve the necklace from the study, taking it out of the velvet box and marvelling at it as he carried it back to the kitchen. It would take him some time to fully accept his pride would be knocked about in this relationship. He decided he would attempt to make you things in the future when wanting to give you a proper gift. Still, he knew that this came from him despite how it fell into his hands.

And when Brian saw you again, he didn’t hesitate to sling it around your neck, doing up the clasp to the chain. You turned and slipped your arms around his waist. “I love you, Brian.”

“I love you too.”

“Hey, Valentine’s is for us all right?” Dowoon exclaimed and clapped his hands together. “I love you all! But I love Custard justttt a bit more.”

“Just a bit? I’m offended.”

“Jae, do you love me more than everyone here or not?” Becky offered with a smile and he chuckled.

“No, I love everyone more than you.”

“Hey!”

And just like that, the room filled with laughter and exclamations, much like it always did when you all were together.

And as Brian held your hand within his, he realised that he liked Valentine’s a whole lot more than he ever had. It wasn’t about being the perfect date. Or having the best relationship either. Even though he had new ideas and couldn’t wait to spend more alone time with you.

But for now, he was surrounded by everyone he adored. And if Valentine’s was the day of love, then he knew he would be full from this year’s one.

_________________

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[orlissa]

Shadow of Night Read Along: Chapter 29

Matthew manages to arrange a meeting with Rabbi Loew. To make time for it, Diana feigns illness to get out of her court appointments, which only sparks the emperor’s interest more, prompting him to send her gifts. Matthew and Diana make their way to the Jewish quarter, where they meet the Rabbi, who is, according to Matthew, “one of the finest men who has ever lived.” The Rabbi first thinks that Matthew—Gabriel, as he knows him—is there about the witch who created the golem, but Matthew is honest with him, and tell him that they are there about the book. The Rabbi confirms that the emperor has—or at least had—the book; he was called to the palace to see it, but couldn’t read it, and now doesn’t know where it is. However, it makes Diana realize that the book still must be complete. Rabbi Loew agrees to take Diana to the Prague weaver, but only her—on their walk there, they talk about tolerance and acceptance. Abraham, the weaver is glad to see Diana—although he is not happy about her husband—and the two of them have a jovial conversation about their familiars. During her visit, a vampire, Herr Fuchs arrives, who puts Diana on edge, along with Herr Maisel, the emperor’s financier, who escorts Diana back to Matthew. Before they part, Abraham tell Diana that she must let the book come to her. When they get back home, another gift is waiting for Diana from the emperor: a puppy, looking like a mop. That night, Matthew sends everyone away so he and Diana are left alone. They have a heated argument over what Diana did that afternoon and what scents she is carrying. Diana calls him out on only tolerating her magic, not accepting it. Their argument concludes in wild, possessive sex against the wall, which Matthew regrets right after, even though Diana tells him that she didn’t mind and that she is not afraid of him.

Notes

I love the respect that narrative has for Rabbi Loew.

It’s interesting that Rabbi Loew starts out with speaking to them in Latin.

Diana took dance lessons as a child.

It’s precious how Matthew just casually sits down on the floor to show his respect to the Rabbi. (Also, why does it conjures the mental image of him sitting on the floor and playing with the children?)

Previously it has been implied that Diana doesn’t know much about the Bible because of her pagan roots, and yet here she shows enough knowledge to use theology to get to Rabbi Loew.

Another sign of Phillippe not caring about such fickle things as “modern” religion: he has worked against and for Jews.

I’m living for the mental image of Matthew sitting on the floor, hugging his knew to his chest.

I wonder what kind of stories Pierre is telling the children.

The “bathhouse for the women” Rabbi Loew mentions must be a mikveh, a ritualistic bath taken by Jewish women after menstruation and childbirth to cleanse themselves.

The text mentions the emperor’s “holy war against the Turks.” Rudolf was also the king of Hungary, which, at this point, was torn into three parts, the middle part (most of today’s Hungary) being occupied by the Turks.

The treatment of Jews by Christians has been infernal for centuries.

Another trait I share with Diana: I, too, have a limited understanding of German.

Abraham says that there were more weavers before the Congregation—which makes sense, a weaver needs daemonic ancestry, and if witches and daemons cannot mix…

Although the golem is referred to as a familiar, his creation sounds very different to Corra’s. And while Corra very much has a will on her own, the golem does not.

I’m gonna be honest: I do not like the scene with Benjamin, I mean on a technical level. The point here is that we meet Benjamin, but the way he is inserted is… awkward at best. Forced. It leaves too many unanswered questions.

However, I like Herr Maisel. He seems like a delightful man.

How old is this “touching the side of the nose to indicate mischief” gesture is? Honestly, I learned this from Hollywood, and totally thought that it was like a mafia thing.

Oooh, actual Hungarian stuff! Lobero is a komondor. Theay ARE huge, and they do look like a mop—however, their corded coat takes time to develop; puppies don’t have it. Puppies loook like this. Komondors are actually not that common, and least not around where I live—I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in person—but they are considered a traditional breed. There is another, similar breed, called puli, with the same corded coat. However, pulis are about half the size of komondors, and they are commonly black instead of white. For comparison, here’s a komondor and a puli.

Gosh, I’d like to slap Matthew here. This behavior is unacceptable, someone really needs to put him in his place. Also, not bearing the scent of other’s mingling with Diana’s? That’s rough, bro. Then make sure your scent overpowers theirs. You know, the way cats rub against their owners?

Even enraged, led by his instincts, Matthew makes sure that the sex is good for Diana, too.

Favorite quotes

“I’m young enough to sit at your feet like one of your pupils, Maharal.” Matthew grinned and folded himself gracefully into a cross-legged position.

“The town is buzzing with reports that Meshuggener Edward was flying around Malá Strana with the devil. Naturally, I assumed you were involved.” This time Rabbi Loew’s tone held a note of gentle reproof. “Gabriel, Gabriel. What will your father say?” “That I should have dropped him, no doubt. My father has little patience with creatures like Edward Kelley.”

“Typical,” I muttered. “Three grown men and a woman, and guess who gets stuck with the dragon?”

[the-lady-bryan]

harry potter/farscape crossover idea

okay so firstly, i’m NEVER going to develop this further. i’ve just got no muse. but here we are, with what little bit i did throw into notepad at one point.

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

Harry had stopped believing in coincidence centuries ago.

It didn't help that he was yanked for a while back and forth through realities - though admittedly that was partly his own fault because he didn't quite anticipate the level of power his magic had risen to after the Battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Voldemort. When he wished to be anywhere else than dealing with the press and the fans and the fame and oh Merlin damn it Ginny we're not even dating and you and your mother are picking out goddamned wedding china!

But he digresses.

His reality hopping had finally ceased and his magic had FINALLY settled down. It looked like this reality would be his permanent one provided he didn't fuck it all up again. Which he tried - he really tried because holy fucking hell some of this shit he had to deal with was absolutely insane! He'd seen Voldemort the Snake-Face but that did NOT prepare him for meeting the literal psychic bipedal lizards called the Scarans. And he'd rather not meet them again if he could help it.

To survive in this crazy universe he'd had to adapt and unfortunately that meant kill or be killed.

Harry had come to terms with the blood on his hands a long time ago.

Unfortunately it was right before he was picked up by the Peacekeepers - the military arm of a race called the Sebbacians. And that's how he ended up in prison for assassinating some asshole dictator in the middle of nowhere who, unfortunately had Peacekeeper connections roughly eight cycles - years - after the fact. He'd settled down on some other backwater planet that reminded him a lot of Earth. Well, one of the Earths he'd been to at any rate. So what if the people were slightly orange and melted shit when they screamed. He just got better at making up scream-proofing charms on the fly is all. They were called Interons or something of the sort. Didn't matter much to Harry. He'd found a place to settle down and live a quiet life for the first time in three hundred years.

And now he was being transferred from his comfortable cell on some planet to a prison ship. Oh joy of joys.

Another eighty years later....

Harry sat with his muzzle on like a good little prisoner when they came into his cell for the routine torture and supposed interrogations. How did he still look like a child after eighty years? How old was he really? Where did he come from? Who else has he murdered? Who all hired him? The usual really.

They left him alone mostly unless they transferred other prisoners off the ship and he was all that was left.

They'd killed him a few times, but they didn't realize it. He'd healed and awoken too quickly for them to notice.... But someone did. He was sure of it. He just couldn't quite figure out who...

At least until he'd been on the ship for another fifty years. That's when he felt her for the first time poking at the edges of his awareness. She called herself Moya. She was the ship. The Leviathan is what the Peacekeeper guards called her.

Harry looked up from his liquid meal, the straw still stuck in the hole of his muzzle that allowed him to drink and "eat" when he heard the guards outside his door. Curious, he silently asked Moya what was happening as a blue woman was taken past his cell. A new prisoner. A Delvian, Moya had said. Harry was just grateful the new prisoner wasn't another goddamn Hynerian. Horrible little bastards reminded him of horrifying mix of Mundungus Fletcher and Draco Malfoy. Not something he liked to imagine. But at least she should be much more pleasant company than Rygel.

He found he liked the Delvian. Her chanting was very soothing. Moya and her Pilot seemed to like it very much as well.

Harry was woken by the roars of a tentacle faced beast of a man? He thought it was a man at least... when they brought the Luxan on board. With the muzzle on though, he could hardly say anything to anyone other than Moya and Pilot. And that was only because whatever it was they did, it was similar enough to legillimency that he basically said fuck it, why not. Otherwise, he'd have gone crazy long before then.

And then... one day, he woke to sirens and the ship jarring about and oh dear heavens that's laser fire isn't it?

"Don't just sit there! Come on!" Oh it was that horrible muppet thing again. Harry just stared at him in annoyance before the blue woman ran past and it dawned on him... Oh, it's a prison break.

It didn't take long for Harry to subdue a couple of guards. With some of Moya's lovely little robots leading him around he was able to avoid most confrontations and make his way to a safe storage chamber and hunker down until the fighting was over. He quite liked the chamber, and made his opinion known to Moya and her Pilot.

Eventually when things have settled down and they've starburst away Harry is led by some DRDs to where the other escaped prisoners are. They were't really pleased to see a young man wearing a muzzle and holding a pulse rifle judging by the multiple weapons pointed at him.

"who the hell are you?!" "He was here before anyone else." "ship's manifest doesn't even have him listed." "That muzzle can't be comfortable. Here, allow me..." "Are you mad! You take that off him and he'll kill us all!"

The muzzle is taken off and the first thing Harry says for a couple of centuries is, "You, the blue one. Oh I have so much enjoyed your chanting. It helped soothe Moya and her pilot for a time. I don't... I don't quite know what had them so agitated for a while but it certainly did help them. And myself as well. I look forward to hearing more of that lovely chanting. Now can I get a decent cuppa tea? Perhaps a food packet? I'll take anything solid. I've been living on liquid nutrients for around a hundred and fifty years and I can tell you it's not a pleasant way to eat."

"You're speaking English. That's English! My translator microbes things not translating you! That is the god damn Queen's English!"

"Of course I'm speaking bloody English! I'm from bloody England you fucking yank!"

"you said fuck! Not.... You have no idea how good it is to see another human!"

"I can assume you're from Earth, Mr..."

"Crichton. John Crichton. Astronaut."

"Harry Potter. Wiz-"

"The Master of Death!" - The Hynerian.

"Well I was going to say Wizard but I suppose that works just as well."

"Peacekeeper legends claim you can kill a man with just two words. Is that true?"

"Yes. With the proper motivation at least. But I.... I turned from my calling a long time ago. I'm not exactly a man of peace or pacifism, but I just wanted to settle down and have a quiet life after all my travels and adventures."

"Wait a minute..... A wizard. Named Harry Potter. You've got to be kidding me! Next you'll be telling me you ride around chasing a little flying ball on a broomstick."

"you know about Quidditch? Tell me, Mr. Crichton, are there any wizards or witches on Earth still? What year even is this by your calendar?"

"Dear god he honestly thinks he's a wizard..."

"what did I say?"

Then a few days later, after Harry's saved Crichton's life, the man finds him sitting and staring out a porthole, floating a cup in front of him with just a wiggle of his fingers with a fond smile on his face. "There's these... books. Kids books, back on Earth. My friend’s kid was obsessed with 'em. Got on the pre-order list at the bookstore near the base so he could get the third book the day it comes out for her birthday." "Why are you telling me this, Mr. Crichton?" "The first book is called Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. The second one that came out last year was called Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." And at this, Harry closes his eyes and sighs. "And what was the third book to be called? Did you know?" "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Did you really kill a giant fucking snake with just a hat, a bird, and a sword?" "If I told you yes?" "What kind of world do you come from where twelve year olds are expected to know how to fight a giant fucking snake?" "It was over sixty feet long. Built like a brick shithouse. And for some reason facing off against that with a magic bird, magic hat, and a magic sword was... according to my senile headmaster, a good way to build character."

This starts a sort of ritual between the two not-the-same-earth-earthlings. Crichton knows all about the first two books because his friend's kid is fucking obsessed with them and so Harry gives him a first person "this is how shit went down" and "this is honestly what i was thinking at the time" and "yes, with my bare hands, i murdered a man at eleven and nobody thought to send me to a fucking therapist. It was all "here's some bloody candy, Harry. Don't ask questions. Also here's house points in return for killing a man at the tender age of 11." That should have been our first clue that Albus too many fucking names Dumbledore was crazier than goddamn Voldemort ever thought of being."

And when Crichton is captured and tortured with the aurora chair, Harry's there for him in equal measure as Zhaan. And he never asks him about it, but he's just like "Bro. I got your back. You ever need to scream at someone about it, you come to me. We can compare scary pale faced black wearing nightmare men any time." And when Harry finds out that his new best bro has a clone of Scorpius in his head, he starts teaching him occlumency techniques because he's like "even without magic, this shit is damn helpful. Oh, and if you ever find yourself kind-of possessed by the bastard - hey, don't look at me like that John I don't make the rules. This shit just happens when you've got someone else living in your head. Trust me. Remember what I told you about that fucking scar of mine? Right. So listen. You ever get possessed, you want me to, uh, off you? I mean, I don't want to. But I will if I have to. Sometimes if you die for a bit, it helps reset shit." "I'm not immortal harry! I can't just reset my brain like some fucking wizard!" "There! That anger! Hang onto that. Trust me. It'll help if you ever get possessed."

And of fucking course when he's possessed by Scorpius Harry's like "I know that's you, you fucking asshole. Let go of my best bro or I will fucking gut you like a fish." "no you won't. You kill me, your kill John." "that's right and i already had this conversation with him. I'm sure you were there for it, too. You've got 24 arns or the real you is going to get a rather nasty visitor after I forcibly rip that chip out of Johnny's head and fry your ass so nobody gets to have the wormhole tech in there. You understand me, lizard breath?"

[gottagobuycheese]

Tag Thingy

Thanks @silent--sonata for indulging my terrible sleeping habits XD

(fyi this will probably be unnecessarily long and rambly, so it’s going under a cut (EDIT: whelp the song list got a little out of hand, I’d apologize if I were even remotely sorry)) 

Rules: Answer 17 questions & tag 17 people you want to get to know better  

Nickname: Cheese (or Lactose Wedge, or Dairy Product of Unspecified Origin and Purpose)

Zodiac Sign: Gemini! 

Height: 160.5 cm/5′3″ (Bubbles I refuse to believe you’re actually that much taller than me) 

Hogwarts house: Somewhere between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff allegedly, both of which I’d be honored to get sorted into, but honestly I’d just be stoked to get sorted at all 

Last thing I googled: I think it was something along the lines of “how to speed up audio playback in GarageBand,” but but my train of thought was derailed before I actually looked at any of the results so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (and on a related note, thanks again for the magical audio editing @imperiousheiress!)

Song stuck in my head: The end credits to Legacy of the Wizard (which is SUCH a jam, thank you for enlightening me @jessicafish) Following and followers: 227 (goodness just looking at that number is stress-inducing) and...104?! When the HECK did you all get here??? I think just last summer I was happily floating about in the 50′s. Anyways, to anyone I have not said hello, hello! Hope you enjoy your stay, and I am sincerely sorry if you expected Quality Original Content, or even just regularly scheduled other people’s content. Sadly, neither of these things tend to happen here. 

Amount I sleep: During the school year it’s usually anywhere between 30 minutes and 6 hours (DON’T EVEN START BUBBLES YOU HAVE NO RIGHT), usually landing in the 3/4 hour ranges if I’m smart about it, but now that I am on Unofficial Break, it’s usually at least around 6 hours (except today was 3 because Avatar is an excellent show and the weirdos in this house have regularly scheduled breakfast at 9-something every morning). Sadly my sleep schedule can only be forced to tolerate normalcy for so long before careening back in the other direction, so we’ll see if this is just a blip or if we’re back to normal mid-Atlantic Ocean hours!

Lucky number(s): I wouldn’t say these are necessarily favorite numbers, but I do like 2 and 9. But come to think of it, second attempts at Official Things do tend to go better for me than first attempts, so maybe there’s some merit there after all! Dream Job: Don’t think I’m really cut out for dreaming anymore, haha (unless you are a theoretical future employer in which case I am Extremely Full of Ambition and Passion). The bed-adjacent metaphor has been made, and not to brag, but I can sleep on pretty much any surface. Currently studying my Not Favorite aspect of STEM (was there ever a favorite or did I just like being good at things sometimes) and learning how to People™ properly (and also learning a gazillion convoluted drug names like what the heck dude, did you just fall asleep on your typewriter coming up with these), so I’ll take whatever place hires me and pays me enough not to depend on my parents for everything, I suppose. In an ideal world, that would entail a job where I could make friends, and even more importantly, a job where my shortcomings would not cause Massive and Irreparable Harm, but I don’t think this line of work really meshes with that last one, so I guess I’ll either have to get my shit together™ extremely soon or fake my death, adopt an alias, and flee to a completely new place with no ties whatsoever before trying to get another, less high stakes job. 

(Though I guess, less cynically, I like helping people well enough? And stories are fun! Maybe there could’ve been something with that. Not that there still can’t be, mind, but there’s still a long way to go between Here and There)

Wearing: Black shorts. Navy t-shirt. Brown some-specific-kind-of-jacket-I-forgot-the-name-of jacket. Is it summer? Is it fall? Am I in middle school? Who can say, but they are COMFY so sadly I have no cares to give

Favourite song(s): way way WAY too many to list here, and I do not have them all organized in a handy playlist separately, but to name a few (and these are not necessarily the MOST favorite okay, it doesn’t mean I don’t love stuff not on this list, it means you can’t force me to pick between my children and I am going to find at least one quick thing from a few things I like before I need to hit post and go back to looking like I’m being studious, and also things I think you should listen to right now, but for everything I’ve linked assuming I mean the whole OST), here’s a spam of links in no particular order: 

LoZ Wind Waker - The Great Sea (aka the epitome of optimism) 

Undertale - NGAHHH!! (I was about to link more but then I realized it’d be the whole soundtrack lol) 

LoZ Breath of the Wild - Hateno Village (Night) 

A:tLA - Peace (bad call BAD CALL NOW I HAVE EMOTIONS) 

Legend of Korra - Final Scene/Ending Theme (MISTAKES WERE MADE MISTAKES WERE MADE) 

Kung Fu Panda - Oogway Ascends (I feel like I’m taking you on a whole little album journey now XD) 

PMD: Explorers of Sky - Dialga’s Fight to the Finish (aka the Gotta Shower Fast song) 

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Pursuit ~ Cornered (aka the HURRY UP AND PACK UR SHIT YOUR FLIGHT LEAVES IN THREE HOURS song) 

Apollo Justice: A New Trial Is In Session (very underrated soundtrack imo) and also Apollo Justice: Telling the Truth (because these two are very closely associated in my head and it’s getting harder and harder to narrow things down so maybe I should stop lol) 

Your Name: Katawaredoki (in which I am forcibly thrown heart first into the bedroom of my second apartment at approximately 12-something A.M.) 

Digimon Adventure 01: Butterfly (MASSIVE 90′s childhood anime feels, and also Last Summer Before Everything Went to Shit feels (on a general scale I mean, not personal)) 

Pokémon: Lugia’s Song multitrack cover by Jordan Moore (would that I could have a talent of that musical talent) 

Pokémon the First Movie: Tears of Life (great now I’m on a Pokémon music spiral GUESS IT’S CHILDHOOD NOSTALGIA HOURS NOW) 

PMD: Blue Rescue Team - Farewell and Run Away/Fugitives (you CANNOT make me choose between these guys okay, my brain WILL explode, and whoops now I want to link the whole ost) 

Palette by A Dear Friend (wink wonk) 

Pokémon: Alpha Sapphire - Fortree City (wow talk about mood whiplash)

Detective Conan: Main Theme (I can’t find the specific version since there are so many, but it’s a Good Theme) 

Super Smash Bros.: Brawl - Opening Theme 

Pokémon Colosseum - Relic Forest 

Song for Lindsay by Andrew Boysen Jr. (oh great now it’s time for marching band feelings I guess)

Mt. Everest by Rossano Galante 

Deltarune - Field of Hopes and Dreams and A Town Called Hometown (orchestrated) (aka the Lots of Work To Do song) and You Can Always Come Home and Don’t Forget (hey guess what I wrote a bunch of fake extra verses for) (also it looks my pathetic attempts at narrowing things down are getting even more pathetic so I’ll wrap up soon XD) 

 Guild Wars 2 - Fear Not This Night (never actually played this myself but my friend got me addicted to the music) 

Lord of the Rings - May It Be (Enya) (aaaand now I miss choir, THANKS BUBBLES) 

Lion King - Can You Feel the Love Tonight (Multilingual) by Travys Kim (aka how I remembered how fun these things are) 

Original Song by Anonymous  

(The urge to add all the other songs I’m not adding is so strong but I’ve got so much work to do so just assume I mean all Nintendo music from any game I’ve played, all Ghibli movie music, every musical I’ve ever heard, and even more) 

Random fact:

Apparently as early as the 17th century, you could guess that a child would have a shortened life span if their foreheads tasted salty. Yes, there is a specific reason, and yes, you may already know what it is, and thankfully no, that life span projection no longer holds true, assuming access to Modern Medicine! 

Favourite Authors: Okay I have not read enough various books of enough various authors to be able to answer this, so I’m just gonna go with a few books instead. They are not necessarily all-time favorites, but I enjoyed reading them very much at the time and more often than not go back to them for comfort reads: The Martian, any of first three Harry Potter books, and The Rise of Kiyoshi. (That last one’s not really a comfort read but I am drowning in Loving Kiyoshi juice so here we are)

Favourite Animal Noises: Certain kinds of birds (UNLESS it’s some ungodly hour of the morning and you’re trying to sleep)? Ooh, and crickets! 

Aesthetic: A slob, but like...a comfy slob. An incredibly disorganized hermit who is happy to mill about in the uncontrolled entropy. (Are we talking about what aesthetic I give off, or what I like to look at, visually? Because I like space, and water, and mountains, and forests, and forests ON mountains, OOH and forests on mountains at night where you can see space, perhaps reflected in a body of water. Or just water, idk. Different things are pretty to look at at different times)

WELL THAT ONLY TOOK FOREVER SORRY FOR THE OBSCENE LENGTH 

@pachelbelsheadcanon @averybritishbumblebee @shingeki-no-korra @sailorlock @yeswevegotavideo @soultheta @queenerdloser @ifeelbetterer @rogueofdragons @peppervl @amadness2method @mutalune and anybody else who wants to do this! This isn’t seventeen, and I don’t know if any of you have already done it/been tagged, but I hear people moving around upstairs so that means this break is over XD. And ABSOLUTELY no pressure to actually do this, this is pretty much just me wishing you well! (and YOU of course, my dear reader! I hope everything’s going all right, or if it’s not, that it does soon)

[taehyungiejiminie95]

The Necklace

Confused - Yoongi

Warning: Internalised homophobia, strong language

It is written in law that on a child’s 15th birthday, they will be presented with a necklace that will guide them to another necklace, belonging to whom their heart will. These necklaces are forged in the depths of an deep sea facility, and must be requested between the birth of the child and the child’s 1st birthday in order to be fashioned correctly. One must include a small vial of the child’s blood, a lock of their hair, and also sufficient DNA from both biological and (where appropriate) adoptive, fostered or guardians of the child. Failure to comply will result in the disobedient parties being punished accordingly, and the child will need to be taken under the observation of the facility. No child is permitted to surpass their 15th birthday without receiving this gift. Should this – for any reason – happen, the child should report this to their local authorities quickly so that this may be rectified.

You could swear that you know the cute pizza delivery guy. Something about that gummy smile and awkward attitude. It turns out that you do, and it gets much worse when you realise you have the same necklace. There’s just one problem with that - he swears he isn’t gay.

You sigh to yourself as you check your phone, wondering where in the hell your pizza is. It’s only been 20 minutes since you ordered, but you’re hungry, and that means you’re grumpy. Peeking out the curtains, you see a motorbike pull up across the road, and you jump in excitement, rolling over your bed to find a shirt as quickly as possible. You find some old band t-shirt from your emo days and tug it on quickly, before patting your hair down. Then the door knocks in a slightly peculiar way - two quick knocks, a pause, and then another. You think it’s kind of cute,

“Coming!” You shout, running through your apartment, trying not to fall over in your haste. In the back of your mind, you register the need to stop just wearing socks through the house, and either invest in some grippy ones, or just wear shoes. You know full well that you’ll end up hurting yourself at some point.

When you swing the door open, your jaw nearly drops. The man in front of you is absolutely stunning, and you nearly drool all over yourself as you look at him. His motorcycle helmet is matte black, and contrasts amazingly with the mint green fringe poking out of it. The man in a little shorter than you, and quite pale, save for the flustered blush painting his cheeks. You smile a little lopsidedly, leaning against the door frame. You definitely recognise him from somewhere,

“I have your pizza?” The man asks a little nervously, and a name comes to your mind - Yoongo, or something. Yoongi? Yongpo? You can’t remember exactly, but you have a distinct memory of him and some guy hooking up at a college party a few years back. Your smile pulls into a smirk, thinking that he’s game. You’ve always tried to be respectful when flirting with a guy, since a lot of people can be off about that kind of thing, but you definitely have some blurry memory of Yoongo/Yoongi/Yongpo being with your old friend Marcus at some point,

“I mean, I have money to pay you with, but I could umm… Pay in another way if you’d rather?” You say, dropping your voice an octave, and looking down at Yoongi as you bite your lip seductively. Maybe it’s not your best pick up line, and sure it is a little crude, but you’re finding it hard to restrain yourself around this man. It feels like something in your chest is drawing you to him, and your mind is a little foggy. Then the man replies, and the fog clears pretty quickly,

“No, money is perfectly fine. I’m not into that… stuff,” The man spits, his lips curling a little in disgust. In an instant, his face transforms from a perfectly sculpted angel to a snarling dog, looking at you with little more than utter hatred. You back away in shock, just knowing that your cheeks are bright red and there are tears in your eyes. It’s been a while since you’ve faced hate that blatant for being gay, but maybe that’s because you waited to finish college before you came out. You’d been scared that you’d get looked at exactly like this,

“Oh I’m sorry… I thought that… Never mind, here, keep the change, I’m so sorry,” You stutter nervously, trying not to let the tears slip as you snatch your pizza from him, barely registering that you just handed him a £50 note for a £15 order as you shut the door. With the barrier between the two of you, you don’t feel as vulnerable. You take a few deep breaths and screw your eyes shut tightly. For a minute or so, you just wait there, eyes shut. But the longer you think, the more you convince yourself that you were just seeing things. This is the 21st century. Nobody is that homophobic anymore, right?

As the night continues, you find yourself laughing at what had happened. You’re almost certain you’d just overreacted. You absolutely remember him at that party, with Marcus! He was sure as hell gay then, and you’d bet your pizza that it hasn’t changed. You can usually tell if someone isn’t gay, and you really weren’t getting those kinds of vibes from him. Maybe he just had a problem with the band t-shirt. You glance down at it and cringe at it yourself. Yeah, that’s probably it.

It gets to about 11pm and your brain is itching about his name. You’re sure it started with a ‘Y’ but you’re struggling to remember what came after that. With a sigh, you reach for your phone, reducing yourself to actually having to come into contact with people. Socialising is awful, but so is having someone’s name on the tip of your tongue all night. You pull up a random person you knew went to all the parties held during college and send a quick text, hating yourself for even caring enough to send a stupid text:

Me [11:07pm] Hey, I know it’s late but I think I saw someone from college and I can’t remember their name

Jamie [11:08pm] Woah bro, that sucks! Need a hand?

You roll your eyes at the prompt response. Nobody from college really has a life, so you’re hardly surprised. You also inwardly and outwardly cringe at the response of your old ‘friend’. He still talks like he’s in college, and he’s so painfully stupid that you want to bang your head against a wall. Of course you need help! Like you’d ever call for just a catch up!

Me [11:10pm] Please. I think his name begins with a ‘Y’. He delivers pizza now and he’s got green hair. Also, he’s probably got something against emo bands. Ring any bells?

Just as you hit send, you realise how stupid it sounds. You were just ridiculing your own peers for texting ridiculously, and yet here you are at a ludicrous hour thinking about some guy who clearly isn’t into you. And yeah, deep down you know that’s why you’re doing this. It’s because Whatever His Name Is was so incredibly attractive and it hurt your heart to actually look at something so amazing. You sigh and let your head hit the back of the couch, not giving your phone a second glance until quite a while after it buzzes:

Jamie [11:13pm] Yeah I know who you mean! Marcus dated him for a bit. Min Yoongi. Am I right?

Me [12:01am] That’s him. Thanks. And you say he was with Marcus? What happened?

You text back with a slight frown, wishing you’d replied sooner. What if Jamie was already asleep? You can feel your hands shaking with anticipation, but luckily your phone signals a reply quite promptly:

Jamie [12:04am] I’m not sure. Marcus wouldn’t tell me. I can find out for your bro, I’ll call you next week!

You groan aloud at the prospect of having a genuine phone conversation with him. Sure, he’s been helpful, but he’s annoying and he was loud in college, and he’s probably still loud now. But at least you’ll get answers soon. Your breath seems to even out a little, and you find yourself laughing at yourself once again. What is it about this Yoongi that’s got you so hooked? You ponder that question as you pull on your sweatpants for bed. You think it over as you brush your teeth. You coin the possibilities as you get dressed the following day. The questions stays stuck in your head all week.

Then it’s suddenly Saturday night again, and you find yourself ordering a pizza at the same time as last week. You scoff at the thought that it could be because you’re hoping Yoongi will deliver it to you, and you’ll get the chance to talk to him. You know full well that it’s ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter does it? You’re wearing a totally non-offensive plain blue t-shirt this week, but you still find yourself nervous. Why won’t your hands stop shaking? Why is your breath uneven? You just like his face. It’s not like you share the same necklace or anything.

His motorcycle pulls up over the road again, and you wait as calmly as you can in your living room, sat on your hands as you wait for the door to knock. You smile when you hear that it’s the same as last week - two quick taps, a pause, then another. This time, you stand up slowly, smoothing your clothes down as you focus on making your way to the door calmly this time. Your hands are still shaking, but at least your breathing is mostly even. You open the door slowly, giving Yoongi your sweetest smile,

“I have your pizza,” He says, a little deeper and less nervous than last week. It’s kind of sweet, really. His cheeks aren’t as flushed, but he still looks slightly dishevelled and yet still as soft as he originally did when you saw him last week. You thank him graciously and take the pizza from his slightly shaking hands - probably numb from the cold - with ease. You’re more than pleased to see that yours aren’t shaking, so you can reach for your wallet without worrying about dropping the pizza,

“Look, I’m sorry about last week, Yoongi - it is Yoongi, right? Min Yoongi?” You ask, slightly panic stricken when Yoongi’s head snaps up, looking at you incredulously. For a moment, you think you could’ve got in wrong, but then he nods and your face melts into a smile again. You hardly even notice the way Yoongi leans forward a little, his pupils dilating slightly, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was a bit forward, and I didn’t mean to upset you. I was wondering if I could maybe take your number, and see if we could take things at a better pace?” You continue hopefully. But at the mention of his number, Yoongi leaps back like he was shocked,

“I’m not gay. Stop trying to get on me. I don’t even know you,” Yoongi tells you, slinging the bag for pizzas over his back as his cheeks burn red with embarrassment. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you, suddenly unable to fathom why you’d question the reason he was on your mind all week. It’s because he’s beautiful! But the words coming out of his mouth cause you to frown slightly, and you tilt your head as you probe his confession further,

“We went to college together. And I could swear you dated Marcu-” You start, but Yoongi’s face snaps into an awful expression of fiery defensiveness,

“You must have the wrong Min Yoongi. I don’t like guys. Now just give me the money for the pizza,” Yoongi rushes, and you find yourself reeling from the speed of his words. Shocked, you just go into your wallet and get out another £50 note, knowing he’ll probably appreciate the tip. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the shirt he had a problem with’ you think to yourself as he storms away. You sigh as you watch him tear away on his motorcycle, much faster than you believe is strictly necessary. He didn’t even strap his helmet back on properly.

The pizza tastes like cardboard in your mouth as you chew it, and you just don’t understand why you could possibly be so hung up on Yoongi. He can’t really be that special. You’re only on your third slice of pizza when your phone goes off, and you nearly choke on it in your haste. Despite your new resolution to not care about Yoongi, you’ve been anticipating Jamie’s call all week, and there’s no way in hell that you’re missing it - even if Yoongi truly is as rude as he seems,

“Hey! Hey, Jamie, you okay?” You stutter quickly. You’re worried that you’ll come across as too eager and Jamie will get the wrong idea, or think you want to actually talk to him. You shiver at the thought of politely sitting through a catch up with him. Especially if you’re sober. Maybe if you had several shots of vodka first, you’d manage it. But sober? Oh no, you barely even managed it in college when you genuinely wanted a social life. But not now. His voice is enough to make you regret even asking,

“Hey bro! Yeah, I’m just finishing my pre-game for a frat party, so I’m out of it. Just thought I should call before I forget! You good?” Jamie slurs into his end of the call, and you actually physically shiver at the sound of it. You’re in your twenties, and he’s still going to frat parties? You could swear people your age are meant to go clubbing, and not to frat houses. You’re sure there must be something horribly illegal in that confession. You swallow and close your eyes, trying to keep the growing irritation out of your voice,

“Yeah I’m okay, thanks. Just wondering about this whole thing with Marcus and Yoongi. He seems really weirded out about it,” You press, knowing the irritation would have been obvious to someone less drunk and more intelligent. Luckily, Jamie is absolutely pissed and as dense as a brick, so you’re fine. You never were great at hiding emotions, so you’re not sure why you thought this instance would be any different. But yes, luck seems to be on your side briefly, because Jamie definitely didn’t pick up on it,

“Marcus was weird about it too. He says they were together for a while, but then Yoongi got beaten up badly and stopped talking to him. Sounds harsh, doesn’t it? To just ghost your boyfriend,” Jamie voice sounds a little more sober, and you’re thankful. It meant you didn’t miss a word. You can practically feel the cogs whirring away in your head, so you know what you really need is some time alone to think it all over. You end the call as quickly as possible, wishing Jamie the best of times at his frat parties, and not waiting for his reply before turning your phone off. He probably won’t remember the conversation in the morning anyway.

You sit with your pizza as you think. Yoongi was beaten up badly and then just stopped talking to his boyfriend? It seems odd, but the two events are clearly linked, if one led to the other. At first, you assume that the beating led to the break up, but it doesn’t quite make sense. Why would getting hit lead to dumping your boyfriend? But then you think - what if the boyfriend lead to the beating, which led to the break up? That makes more sense. Yoongi got beaten up because he was with Marcus. You sit with that idea for a moment, and everything seems to make a bit more sense. Being gay got Yoongi hurt, so he has a problem with gay people now - or maybe just with his own desires? It seems entirely possible in your head that Yoongi is trying to act straight just because of that event.

Suddenly, you feel bad for hitting on him.

The following week, you find yourself sat in your basketball shorts and vest, wondering why you even bothered to order the pizza. You’ve made clear that you’re going to leave Yoongi alone. The pull you feel doesn’t really matter. You’ll get over it when you meet the person with your necklace, so it’s clear that it’s only temporary. However, your heart still jumps a little when the door knocks.

You know it’s definitely Yoongi, because you can feel that pull strengthening, and he really does seem to have a particular knock. Two quick taps, a pause, then another. You try to slow your footsteps as you approach the door, wanting to keep everything as calm and as innocent as possible. It’s not fair to push him when he’s probably suffering some pretty bad trauma from what happened back in college.

You resolve cracks a little when you see his pale skin, once again marred by a flustered blush. He really is stunning. You try not to smile in the way you had last week, but you still want to try and look friendly. You settle for a slight smile, that you’re sure he’ll be able to tell is forced. He seems like the intelligent type. If he does notice, though, he doesn’t say. He just hands you your pizza. You thank him with a nod of your head as you reach for your wallet, but stop short when you hear Yoongi splutter and cough,

“Are you okay?” You ask, before you can stop the words coming out of your mouth. You mentally scold yourself - you didn’t want to talk and have him get the wrong idea of why you’re asking. You meant for this to just be a normal pizza delivery, but he had to go and choke on air,

“Where did you get that?” Yoongi asks through the coughs, resting a hand on your doorframe to steady himself, and pointing the other at your necklace. You frown and look down at it, briefly examining the bronze plate, about 3cm in diameter, and the various colours set across it, like they’d been thrown from a paintbrush. You then look back up at Yoongi, who’s eyes bore into yours with an emotion that looks almost like rage swirling in it,

“It’s my necklace. You know, the Necklace everyone gets on their 15th birthday?” You stutter, feeling your calmness slowly seep out of your body at Yoongi’s expression. It only darkens further at your response, and you back up a little, slightly scared,

“Impossible,” He mutters, and you frown quickly, trying to decipher what he means. But your mind only runs in circles as you try to figure it out, trying to come up with anything appropriate to shoot back. You come up short in terms of anything even remotely intelligent or snarky, instead having to settle for a simple syllable,

“Why?” You ask. But, of course, ever the enigma, Yoongi doesn’t answer. He just turns around and sprints down to his motorcycle. You can’t do anything but stare at the open door, watching him fix his helmet on properly. It’s only then that you realise you didn’t pay him,

“Hey! Yoongi! You forgot the money!” You shout, stepping out of your house to wave your wallet at him, hoping he’ll pull over and at least let you pay for your pizza and maybe even talk to you. Then the sound of his motorcycle starts up, and your hand falls to your side as you sigh in exasperation. If he wouldn’t stop for money, nothing’ll do it. All you can do is watch as he tears off down the street at top speed, more than definitely outside of the speed limit.

You’re sure that’s it, and you’ll never see him again. You don’t bother to order pizza from that place again, knowing similar things will keep happening. You think that if you don’t put yourself in his path, he’ll vanish from your mind. But that is exactly where you’re wrong. It’s late on Friday night, four weeks after when your door knocks. Two quick taps. A pause. Then another.

Your head’s spinning as you stumble to the door, and you feel kinda fuzzy. Yeah, fuzzy is probably the best way to describe it. You know it’s not very eloquent but that’s the only word you have for the stuff going on inside of you right now. You fumble clumsily to unlock the door and wrench it open just a little too fast for it to be normal, and your breath catches in your throat at the very sight of the flustered blush dusted across the pale cheeks of one Min Yoongi.

The said man doesn’t give you a chance to speak before he’s shoving past you (with quite an intimidating aura for someone half your size) and into your home, not hearing you shout after him asking what the hell he’s doing. He can’t run away from you last month and now barge into your home! You don’t even know the guy,

“Where did you get that necklace?” Yoongi finally barks after a few moments of shocked silence pass when he flat-out ignores your demands to know why he’s here. The thing is that you probably would’ve let him in if he’d asked. Baffled by his tone, you stutter out a response,

“Like I told you last time, it’s the one I was given for my 15th birthday. Now could you please just tell me what-“ You start, hoping Yoongi will be more open to reasonable questioning now that he’s started talking in general. However, your hopes are squashed when Yoongi’s eyes snap up to yours, dark and dangerous as he strides towards you, height difference be damned, and stands just inches away from you, glaring unashamedly with murder in his eyes,

“Don’t bullshit me, that isn’t possible! Just tell me where you got the damn thing,” Yoongi growls, and you flinch back as you stare down at him incredulously,

“Look, you need to stop. I’m sorry that my answer upset you but seriously, I won’t have you force your way into my home and then start making demands,” You tell him firmly, trying to keep your voice calm. You didn’t even know you had this much patience in you, but you have enough to hold you still until Yoongi’s shoulders finally sag, and he looks around with a slightly lost expression on his face, like all the fight was drained out of him,

“I’m sorry it’s just.. I don’t know, there’s obviously no excuse for this but… fuck, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come, I’ll just go,” He amends, unable to meet your gaze as he heads for the door again, shaking his head at himself. You’re fine to watch him leave, absolutely speechless, but as if some reflex in your body is controlling your movements, you step in front of him. You had no more choice over it than you do jerking away from boiling water,

“Do you want to talk about it?” You blurt, not thinking it through at all. This could be a seriously bad idea and you know it, but for some reason you just don’t care. You could quite literally get killed since you don’t really know anything about Yoongi other than he’s clearly a very angry man who you used to go to college with. He might be a serial killer for all you know, but here you are offering to talk to him about issues that don’t even affect you!

But then you look at the hurt look in his eyes and the way his shoulders curl in slightly and realise that you could never turn this man away. For all the anger and spite buried in him that he just took out on you, he’s soft and small and obviously hurting. You remember when that was you. How could you turn a blind eye to it?

“No strings or catches, I swear. I’ll just put the kettle on and we can talk as two normal people about why one of them suddenly burst into the other one’s home and started shouting,” You say, some of your teasing personality leaking into your tone when you see Yoongi’s sheepish half-smile. You can tell that he’s embarrassed, and it tugs on your heartstrings a little. He nods without saying another word, not wanting his harsh voice to ruin the kindness you’re offering him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he takes it anyway. After a few seconds of standing with an awkward silence hanging around, you remember you offered to make a hot drink. You jump into action and lope into the kitchen, calling over your shoulder to ask Yoongi what his fix is,

“Do you have any coffee?” Yoongi asks, trying his best to keep his voice calm and as velvety as yours was. He’s not sure if it works or not, “I’m not much of a tea drinker,” He admits, and you smile knowingly to yourself at the dark circles under his eyes that provide evidence for his preference,

“I have some, but honestly I don’t drink it myself. It’s mainly for hosting purposes, really,” You joke, getting down the seldom-used instant coffee powder from the back of the cupboard and finding your hot chocolate mix too. Yoongi snorts at the sight of it when you set it down next to the kettle,

“How did I just know you’d be a hot chocolate kind of guy? I bet you have whipped cream, chocolate shavings and marshmallows too,” He jokes in an unusually casual tone for him, and you quickly shove the marshmallows back into the cupboard, hoping desperately that Yoongi didn’t see. He did, but just rolls his eyes in lieu of teasing you further. He leans back against the counter opposite from where you’re making the drinks, trying to act as if he doesn’t feel quite so out of place while you busy yourself, wondering what the hell you’re even doing at this point.

You hand Yoongi his coffee first, and he smiles at you in thanks. It’s not necessarily a kind or warm smile, but it’s got a tinge of appreciation in it and that’s more than he’s been able to give you before. He swallows hard when he sees that you’ve put some milk in it. Most people assume he likes it black, but he’s partial to a little milk. The thing is, Yoongi knows that is such a stupid thing to be happy about! He’s really getting just a bit excited that you can read his mind better than other people and that doesn’t even make sense. But to Yoongi, it means something. He just doesn’t know exactly what.

He takes a moment to survey you as he sips his too-hot drink, the heat burning his lips but he finds himself unable to care as he thinks things over. So, you have the same necklace. That much is clear since Yoongi would know that design anywhere. The only problem is that Yoongi had been hoping he’d find it attached to a pretty woman who he could get along with without these feelings that he’s disgusting, or wrong…

Yoongi shivers at the thought that this is the life he’s resigned to. The kind of life he can’t have, the kind of life that he doesn’t want. He can’t bear to think of his parents right now.

You turn around with you hands wrapped around your hot chocolate, and lean opposite Yoongi. You try not to internally coo over how small he looks, and the red flush on his face from the steamy drink he’s holding. You fail,

“So, first things first. Why are you here?” You ask gently as you would when around a baby deer that you’re afraid to scare off. Yoongi scowls at your words and you barely stifle a groan, wondering if you will ever get the answers you want. You distract yourself petulantly with your hot chocolate while Yoongi deliberates his answer. The confusion on his face makes you wonder for a second if he genuinely doesn’t know. He’s clearly acting irrationally and is in no way comfortable here. You have to acknowledge the possibility that Yoongi may have turned up solely on curiosity, anger, confusion or whatever cocktail of emotions that were governing him.

Eventually, he kind of just sighs and puts his coffee down beside him, and promises himself that he will kick your ass - size difference or not - if you try and make any kind of advance on him for this. You watch on in confusion as his pale hands disappear down the collar of his hoodie, finding the chain of the necklace and dragging the pendant up into view, eyes looking anywhere but yours as you zero in on it.

You choke on your drink and quickly whirl around to place your hands on the counter, trying to keep yourself standing. Your fingers fumble clumsily to place your mug down and you try in vain to stop yourself from coughing up a lung. Your mind clouds over, though, and you find yourself unable to focus on breathing properly when you know that Yoongi has your necklace on.

Yoongi sighs to himself and rests his head back on the cupboard, and he tries to figure out what kind of silver lining could be found in this kind of situation, realistically speaking. Of course, he comes up completely blank, which really sucks and makes everything just seem that much worse. Luckily, before Yoongi can think up too much existential dread, the sound of heavy breathing stops, and Yoongi forces himself to look at your back as you flex your shoulders carefully before turning around to meet his hardened eyes.

You can’t help but think that this whole situation is reminiscent of some bad movie, and you kind of hate it. But then again, this cute guy is in your kitchen, and whether or not he’s going to fall in love with you doesn’t even matter because either way you’re going to be okay with it. Some people have platonic soulmates, and maybe that’s all that this is meant to be. You think you’ll be okay with that as long as you’ll get to cuddle him every now and again, because he’s such a squishy boy and you can just tell he’s secretly the cuddliest person in the world. But obviously you’re not going to outright say that to him. Maybe with time you’ll get comfortable enough with each other to do that,

“So, we’re soulmates,” You say, not smirking or joking or trying to imply anything. You keep your tone as neutral as possible because Yoongi obviously has his issues with this (if his reactions are anything to go by) and you don’t want to make this any harder for him that it already is. In response to your calmness, Yoongi mirrors it. He nods robotically and reaches for his coffee again. It doesn’t burn his lips as he sips it this time,

“I guess so,” He sighs, “But don’t expect anything from me. I’m serious when I say that I’m not-“

“You’re not gay, I know,” You interrupt, eager to get your point across before Yoongi has too much of a chance to form any lasting judgments about your character, “It’s okay, I’m not going to make you suck my dick or anything,” You scoff, allowing some humour to creep into your tone. You smile just a little bit at the flush that makes it’s way onto Yoongi’s already-red cheeks,

“Yeah, thanks for that,” He replies drily, “At least you make a good cup of coffee. But yeah, I guess we should talk about this. You came onto me like a moth to a flame, so you clearly are gay. What do you want from me and this whole soulmate thing?” You can hear the caution in Yoongi’s tone. He’s talking so bluntly, like this is some business transaction. Maybe that’s his way of dealing with it, but it doesn’t sit right with you. There’s some deep emotional connection that’s supposed to bloom between the two of you and it seems that Yoongi isn’t quite playing ball yet,

“Well, I’m kind of bummed that I got all necklaced up with someone I can’t fall in love with, but it doesn’t matter all that much. I guess I was only built for the strictly platonic kind of love,” You admit with a shrug of your shoulders, trying not to show how badly this is actually hurting you. You can curl up and cry about that loss later, but for now your soulmate needs to believe that you’re already okay with it, not that you’ll grow to be. Yeah, you were really hoping for the twink version of Prince Charming to come along ready for you to whisk him away, but that’s just not in the cards for you. You’ll have to resign yourself to a life of one night stands and a painfully straight best friend,

“Platonic?” Yoongi repeats, a confused look slowly etching itself onto his face. He thought it would be much more difficult to sort this whole thing out than you just dismissing your past advances like that. Maybe being your ‘soulmate’ won’t be as difficult as Yoongi assumed it would be,

“I know I can’t make you be gay, Yoongi. That’s not how sexuality works. If you say that you’re not, then you’re not. Sure, my best friend is gonna be pissed that I’ll end up demoting him at some point, but he’ll get over it,” You elaborate, and that finally makes Yoongi crack a smile - a real one! It’s cute and gummy and it makes you sigh so hard internally that you realise you’ll be pining for life. Maybe it would be worth it to see that smile one more time, though,

“I though that would be a lot harder. I thought I was going to have to fight you off and just go without a soulmate for the rest of my life,” Yoongi admits, setting his now-empty mug down beside him. You snort unattractively and roll your eyes,

“Don’t think so little of me, Yoongi. I have been known to abide by the rules of consent form time to time,” You drawl sarcastically, and you fix Yoongi with a look that makes him smile yet again, setting those butterflies off again. You try your best to digest them and Yoongi looks at you for just a few moments too long. An awkward kind of silence is left between you as his mind wanders off and he realises that he won’t ever be paired up with a nice woman to start a family with - well, not a woman that could really make him happy, anyway. Not that anyone would pair up with him at all with these stupid necklaces. That hope is gone now,

“Okay, well,” Yoongi interrupts himself, promising silently to that side of him that he can start this existential crisis later on, “I need to go. Thanks for the coffee, it was good. I’ll leave you with my number so we can go out and get to know each other or whatever. Barging my way into your home won’t work every time,” He jokes slightly, but his tone is too matter-of-fact to achieve the effect he was going for. Yoongi’s too caught up in going through the motions to even notice, moving his mug to the sink and writing his number down on the notepad and pen your hands miraculously find as you watch him, absolutely bewildered.

Did he just switch off his emotions? You could have sworn that you saw something brewing behind the hard front he so stubbornly upholds, but then suddenly it was like a door was slammed shut and locked up whatever that was behind it. You barely keep your frown hidden as Yoongi says goodbye, not lingering at all as he leaves the paper on the side for you. It’s not until Yoongi has climbed onto his motorcycle and kicked it to life, his visor snapped down tight, that you allow the frown to finally settle on your face.

There is most definitely more to Min Yoongi than he’d like for anyone else to think.

A few days later, the two of you are meeting up for a coffee - yeah, it’s just so original, but you didn’t want Yoongi to get the wrong idea if you’d invited him to dinner or something more fun. You can’t go out and do things without risking it seeming like a date until you’ve grown a bit closer. But still. Coffee. That’s what came out of your mouth.

Regardless of the setting though, you’re quite excited to get to know Yoongi. Especially with that mystery he’s given you to think on when you saw him last. Although, if you’re being honest, you’re trying not to think of him at all. The more you try to understand Yoongi, the less you actually do. Then you start asking questions to yourself like ‘why was he so angry about the necklaces?’, ‘was Marcus just a college experiment?’ and (the worst of all) ‘how are you supposed to act like you’re happy with a platonic relationship when you’re already harbouring a massive crush on the guy?’,

“Hey, over here!” Yoongi calls just a little bit more enthusiastic than he meant to. You’d wandered into the coffee shop slowly - you’ve never been one for coffee shops, really, so it’s a little disorientating - and Yoongi had saved you the embarrassment of standing awkwardly in the way while trying to find him.

Not that you could have possibly missed him, you realise when your eyes settle on him. If his mint green hair didn’t give it away, then his clothes would,

“Yoongi, you know it’s below freezing outside, right?” You ask sceptically as you sit down in the chair across from him. You’re silently glad he picked a table in the middle of the floor rather than one of the snug booths around the corner. You never know what’s going to happen when it’s with Yoongi, or so you’ve come to accept,

“I have a jacket,” He replies coolly, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course Yoongi is the type of guy to do this! He’s wearing ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Yes, it does look good the way he’s tucked it in, but that’s not the point. He’ll freeze, and you know it. As if he doesn’t notice your internal turmoil at how good he looks when you’d promised to control and stifle all of your favourable thoughts for the man, he shoots you a half smile as he nudges your drink towards you, “I got you some hot chocolate. They didn’t have marshmallows but they did have whipped cream and chocolate shavings,” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye as you smile down at your favourite drink,

“We should get past this tsundere act, you know,” You tease lightly, “Or are you going to demand payment for your efforts?” You continue and Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you, and you think you might have heard him scoff that he should do under his breath. Either way, he smiles up at you afterwards - not that gummy smile he gave you last time, but this one is good, too. It’s genuine, and that’s what matters,

“So… this actually isn’t the most awkward moment of my life, I have to admit,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly after a few moments pass of the two of you just glancing around, trying to think of something to say and yet coming up blank. You latch onto the morsel of conversation that Yoongi’s thrown at you with excitement,

“Well, now you’ve mentioned it, you have to tell me. What’s the most awkward moment of your life so far?” You probe and Yoongi gives you a look of complete horror at the prospect of having to relive it, and you can’t help the deep laugh that forces it’s way up and out of your chest. You haven’t seen his face so expressive before, and it’s adorably comical, to say the least!

“I have this older brother… before we both moved out we used to share a room. Now, there’s 7 years between us, okay? We weren’t that close, but because of the whole sharing a room thing we had to get along,” Yoongi starts, and you lean forward in interest, taking a sip of your hot chocolate as you go, “The age difference was a bit difficult though. He was still in school at 19 because he got held back a year, and obviously couldn’t move out when he was still a student. Basically he used to bring dates back to the house… yeah, exactly!” Yoongi shouts, gesturing to the shocked look on your face before he continues, “One night, I went to bed early because obviously school was too much stress for little 12 year old me. But then, I wake up at gone midnight and I hear some noise downstairs. Sometimes my brother came in drunk and messed around downstairs but…” Yoongi trails off, already holding back laughter, “Right, I’ll cut to the chase. He sent his girl upstairs to bed, while he tried to find his keys, but they were both so drunk that his girl ended up thinking I was him and trying to get into bed with me,” You splutter in shock but Yoongi keeps going, “And she’s laying there next to me saying how much she loves him, trying to kiss me, thinking that I am him! Now don’t tell me that’s not awkward, especially when your brother walks in and sees it!” He complains, and you shake your head in disapproval,

“Min Yoongi, I’ll admit that’s quite bad. However, I would argue that’s more traumatising than awkward. Buckle up while I tell you the most awkward story in the world - my life,” You explain dramatically, Yoongi over-acting that he’s hanging onto your every word as you launch into the top 3 worst things that have ever happened to you.

You pass at least a few hours just like that, just talking about your best and worst memories and laughing and trying to one-up each other. It’s easier to talk to Yoongi than you would’ve thought, and you find yourself opening up about what your dream job was, and how you’re not really happy about where you are in the world right now,

“Me neither, to be honest. I don’t want to be delivering pizza all of my life. It was only supposed to be a job to make ends meet while I pursued my passions, but here I am three years later doing the same thing,” Yoongi tells you, and you think you see just a spark of vulnerability in his eyes. You probe gently at the passions he mentioned, and Yoongi seems happy to talk about them. It strikes your heart with a pang that it’s probably been a while since anyone’s let him talk about them so freely, “I love music. I have some tracks of my own but it never really took off as a career. I have a Soundcloud following and that, but nothing ever really came of it. That and basketball. I nearly won a scholarship to some sports university, and if I’d taken it I’d be the Asian Michael Jordan,” Yoongi jokes ironically, and you smile sadly at that,

“Why didn’t you take it?” You ask, deciding not to make the comment about Yoongi not looking much like a basketball player, and surprisingly Yoongi doesn’t dodge this question either. He just shakes his head and takes a moment to have a sip of his third coffee of the day,

“My parents. They never really supported any of that. They turned it down for me and got me enrolled in what they called a ‘practical degree’. Engineering! I have a fucking Engineering degree and I hate it. The dumb thing is, I tried to find a job in that field and just make the most of it, but they weren’t hiring. How ridiculous is that? I should’ve done Media and pursued music more seriously, or taken that sports scholarship,” He sighs, and you can visibly witness his mood drop this time,

“Is it too late to change it now? I know you can’t go back in time and take your sports scholarship or study for a Media degree, but you’re not stuck being a pizza delivery man. If you wanted, you could quit your job tomorrow and start working your way up to what you want to do. You could start your own music label if you really wanted! But you’re not stuck. People like you don’t get stuck,” You tell him, the inspirational words flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop it. Silence descends between the two of you, and over the whole coffee shop since it’s getting late now and most people are going home. You think you’d overstepped the mark for a second before Yoongi finally replies,

“I’m not one for getting motivated, but you had me there. I’m not going to quit my job tomorrow, because I quite like being able to pay my rent, but doing something about my passions sounds like a good thing. Maybe… never mind,” Yoongi starts, but cuts himself off before he gets too far. You nearly whine in protest, knowing that if you let Yoongi start shutting out some things he’ll probably shut everything down. You push him to tell you, and with a sheepish smile he eventually does, “We should go to a basketball game. I haven’t gone to one in ages and if we’re going to be friends then you need to know some things about the best sport in the world,” Yoongi tells you, and you brighten up at the prospect of Yoongi suggesting something to do together,

“That sounds like a great idea! I’ll search it up when I get home, and see if any of the big games are happening near by,” You suggest, and Yoongi nearly glows as he smile, nodding and agreeing that it’s a great idea. Even if no big teams are playing, Yoongi mentions to you that even college games are pretty fast-paced, and could be worth a watch. You quietly wonder if you’ll maybe get him to go to a game at the college you used to go to, but you don’t say it out loud. Given what you learned all those weeks ago (no matter how hard you try not to think about it) you get the feeling that maybe college wasn’t the best time in Yoongi’s life,

“Hey, uh… you guys kinda need to leave. We’re closing soon and we need to wipe down your table,” A spotty-faced teenage boy tells you nervously, and you nod quickly. You know what some customers can be like, flying off the handle for nothing, so you know the last thing he needs is the last two customers giving him any shit. You smile encouragingly and apologise, downing the last of your drink as Yoongi does the same. You pretend not to notice the small tip Yoongi hands him for being so patient. Damn tsundere, he’d probably deny it and get mad at you for bringing it up.

Neither of you linger as you part ways, waving goodbye in a perfectly acceptable way as Yoongi mounts his motorcycle and you head off in your own direction. It’s not far, and you don’t really want to get on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle, anyway. You still have that fluttery crush feeling, but it’s okay. This friendship is okay. It’s enough.

It occurs to you as you lock your front door behind you that if either you or Yoongi had ever pursued your dreams the way you wanted to, you may never have met. It’s funny how life works.

You do end up going to that basketball game. It’s been about 3 weeks since Yoongi brought it up, but you’re still just as excited as that moment. Yoongi seems hyped for it too - in his own way, of course - and you can’t stop talking as you get onto the train, trying to get all of the rules down before you get there. You were always more of a football kind of guy - well, you watch the World Cup when it’s on, if that counts.

It’s not too far to get there, but far enough that you can’t get a taxi and since you’ll probably drink a bit when you’re there, you can’t go on Yoongi’s motorcycle. Luckily enough, it doesn’t take long and then the college stadium is basically on top of the train station.

At periods throughout the game you wonder if you’re annoying Yoongi a bit, because you do have to ask for clarification every now and again. He hadn’t exaggerated when he said it was a fast game! But then you go to grab the both of you another drink and the happy look on Yoongi’s face as his eyes wander over the court astounds you. He looks so peaceful you almost feel bad for interrupting him to hand him the drink.

You also try to ignore how date-like it feels. This wouldn’t be the case if it was a group of you, but since Yoongi hasn’t mentioned any friends and none of yours would be interested in basketball (or able to keep their hands off Yoongi in the way that you’ve learned to) it’s a private kind of night. Well, not private. There’s a huge crowd and two teams of very tall men running around, but it just feels a little intimate. But you push the thought to the back of your mind with the help of more alcohol, and soon you don’t even care. This is your night with your soulmate, platonic or not.

It’s a fun night until you get on the train back home.

There’s barely any seats left when you and Yoongi jump on, laughing loudly and obnoxiously since you’ve only barely caught it, and then you have to trawl through the carriages. To try and find somewhere for the both of you to sit. Sometimes you forget how intimidating you might look, but the horrified looks of older women and younger teenagers reminds you to quiet down a bit. You smile apologetically and hurry to find somewhere before the train departs. You’re not drunk, but you’ve had enough to drink that your balance is ever so slightly off,

“Hey! I’ve got some seats here,” Yoongi suddenly says, pointing at a section of four seats that are all turned towards a table between them. You smile happily and collapse down next to the window before Yoongi gets the chance to, “You’re such a child, you know,” He scolds half-heartedly as he takes the seat closer to the aisle. The two of you buy a bottle of water each from the person with the snack trolley as she wanders down, knowing you should try and lessen any effects of the alcohol if you can.

Everything is still fine until a man sits himself down opposite you on the table, apologising since it’s literally the only seat left on the train. You and Yoongi wave it off good-naturedly and go back to your conversation about the game, happy to pass the time like that until you ruin everything with your loud mouth,

“I could swear I know you!” You blurt at the man who’d sat down opposite you, and narrow your eyes to examine him closer, “Have we met before?” You ask, and he finally looks up, realising you must mean him. The smile he gives you is slightly embarrassed, but still cute. You wonder to yourself if he’d take your number, or if he’s one of those traditionalists who won’t take anyone’s number unless it’s his soulmate,

“You know, you look kind of familiar, I won’t lie. Did we go to school together, maybe?” The man offers, and it’s not until you realise who you’re talking to that you feel that Yoongi’s tensed up beside you, not moving or talking. You’re not even sure if he’s breathing,

“You’re Marcus,” You breathe, involuntarily throwing Yoongi a side-ways glance. As your eyes move, Marcus’ do as well, and it’s as if the whole train carriage falls silent. All you can hear is your own heartbeat, and you can’t bring yourself to say anything else. Marcus doesn’t either, and Yoongi certainly doesn’t. The train ride stays deathly silent up until you pull into the station, forcing you to dwell on the situation.

This is Yoongi’s ex-boyfriend Marcus. The Marcus who he got beaten up for being with. The Marcus that must be part of the reason why Yoongi ‘isn’t gay anymore’.

Yoongi is up before the train stops, and hitting the ‘open doors’ button repeatedly until it lets him off. You hurry to catch up, hoping that Yoongi will let himself talk to you about it. You’re not that close yet, but you’re a little hopeful that this will be the prompt Yoongi needs to open up to you. You’re not supposed to hide your feelings from your soulmate, because they’ll always understand. It’s part of the reason that you get paired up.

You’re surprised to find that Yoongi heads back to yours, but then again you’re not. Yoongi is full of surprised, and also he left his motorcycle parked outside your house, so he needs to get it before he can get home. When you finally build up enough speed to walk next to Yoongi, you nervously glance at his face to try and work out what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t look angry. He looks shocked, sure, but not angry, and that’s a relief. He waists for you to unlock the door patiently, and smiles at you gratefully as you let him in. The train ride has clearly sobered the both of you up for now, and everything is quiet,

“You’re welcome to stay here tonight. I know you’ve had something to drink so I can’t let you ride home. My couch is quite comfortable. You can use the spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet and I’ll grab you some blankets and stuff,” You tell him as you shut the door and kick off your shoes. Yoongi throws a thanks over his shoulder as he heads to your bathroom, leaving you to try and compose yourself as you track down your less crappy blankets to lay out for Yoongi.

While said man takes his sweet time getting ready to sleep, you find yourself cracking open a beer and downing it before Yoongi is padding back into the living room, hair damp from the shower he clearly took. You smile at the darker colour the water’s made his hair and gesture vaguely at the set up of the couch you’d arranged. Yoongi smiles back at you as he leans back into the make-shift bed with a groan, and suddenly you’re talking,

“What happened between you and Marcus?” You say, not able to see what way this is going through the haze in your mind. Yoongi sighs as he rests his forearms over his face, not looking at anything as he tells you that it was just a stupid teenage experiment, like ticking all the boxes just to be sure he was definitely straight, and he broke it off when he realised he was, “That’s a lie. I know you were beaten up for being gay,” You tell him nonchalantly, spurred on by the warmth of alcohol in your veins. You always were a bit of a lightweight, “Is that why you won’t let yourself fall in love with me? Is it because- is it because being beaten up made you internalise their homophobia? Do you hate yourself for liking men?”

You’re too busy with your own muddled thoughts to remember that this was the subject you’d always promised yourself you wouldn’t breach. It’s Yoongi’s own business and his own trauma that he was welcome to share with you over time, but not something you would ever have the right to ask him about, let alone so bluntly.

The house is quiet before Yoongi snaps, eyes hard and burning with anger as he pulls his jacket on and finally snaps,

“You have no right to talk about that you pathetic fuck!” He yells at you, voice already sounding rough from use. You flinch back in fright, but Yoongi doesn’t stop. He doesn’t step towards you, but he maintains eye contact terrifying enough that you know he’s beyond angry, “If you think for one second that we are close enough, or ever will be close enough for that then you’re as stupid as you look! I fucking knew you were pining for me, and this just shows it! You’re a manipulative little prick, trying to twist my emotions and fuck with my head so I’ll go gay but you’re wrong! You can fuck yourself and live without any fucking soulmate. Fuck you,” He finishes, and your ears ring with his words as he grabs his helmet and storms out. Whether or not he had a few drinks tonight, he can’t stand another moment in your house.

The silence he leaves is worse now he’d just been filling it so brutally, and that pulling you felt in your chest when you were around him feels like it’s just snapped. If it’s the red strings of fate, then yours was just cut off by Yoongi himself.

You try to tell yourself that you’re not someone who lets people get to you so easily, because you’re really not. You’ve always been thick-skinned, and you don’t cave in and give up so easily, but this is just so different. It’s not melodramatic to be upset when your soulmate leaves you. Not that you were even together, but you were happy with the friendship that was blooming. For about 3 weeks there, your life was good. Yoongi made you smile and with some more time you know you’d be a better person since meeting him. You have a feeling that you were having the same effect on him, but that’s gone now. You went somewhere that you never should have gone, and you’re now suffering the consequences.

Part of you wants to think about how Yoongi is, and wonder if he’s feeling the same pain that you do every time your eye sees the mint green colour that reminds you of him, or the sound of motorcycle that isn’t his speeding past, or hear about a new basketball game. Even music is different now, knowing how deep his passion for it ran. But that part of you needs to stay silent. You don’t want to think that Yoongi is probably fine. He was never as gone for you as you were for him. Still are, really. Even now you want to see him again, even just as friends, to ask him about his day and listen to him vent about how much he hates his job and how badly it sucks. You know you shouldn’t still be wanting that, but you can’t help it. Maybe you are as pathetic as Yoongi said.

Your mental health spirals over the next few days, and you struggle to get out of your bed for your job. The looming threat of being evicted if you don’t make rent is just enough for now, but the longer you go knowing you’ll have to live without a soulmate, the harder it gets. You read stories about people who’s soulmates die before their time, or who leave them because of their history, but you never imagined it would hurt this bad. You go through your day like a zombie, only doing what you have to and nothing more.

Tears are already swimming in your eyes when you open your front door that night. It was another tough day. Your boss shouted at you for not having your ‘customer face’ on when dealing with people. You’d not been able to do anything but take it. He wasn’t wrong. You can’t manage anything but a monotone voice and a smile is beyond you. You hadn’t even been able to explain that your soulmate had cut ties with you, and that’s why you’re finding it so difficult at the moment.

You were so caught up in your own emotions that you didn’t notice the motorcycle parked outside, the fact that your door was unlocked, the living room light was on and there’s a man sat on your couch, looking at you with worried eyes. You don’t realise it until he calls out your name.

If you could control your reaction, you might not shout so loudly, but for the first time since Yoongi slammed your door behind him, you feel something other than numbness and pain. Anger. The red-hot blazes of anger burn your veins as you stare at him, and you start letting it out,

“Get out! Get the fuck out of my house, you heartless prick! You think you can lose your temper with me and call me all those names and then just waltz in here like I owe you something? No! How did you even get in here? You’re a fucking serial killer, I knew it! You need to leave right now or I swear to fuck I will call the police and have them arrest your dumb ass for breaking and entering! Who do you even think you are? You can’t just- you can’t just-“ You choke on your words as you continue, and you have to collapse down onto the chair opposite, panting and trying to catch your breath. You refuse to let yourself cry in front of Yoongi, and that resolve makes breathing just that much more difficult.

It’s not until you regain a hold on your temper that you realise Yoongi hasn’t moved. He’s sat on your couch, curled in on himself a little because you’re quite scary when you’re angry, but otherwise unmoved. You notice as you examine his face that he doesn’t look much better off than you. His eyes are rimmed with red, they look hollow and he’s shaking, too. Part of you purrs at the though that he was hurting too, but the other part of you is appalled that this whole soulmate set-up became so messy. The whole point of necklaces is to avoid all of this heartbreak,

“You leave your key under the doormat. You must think you’re so slick and sneaky with that, but you’re not. It was the first place I checked,” Yoongi says, obviously trying to joke with you but his tone ruins it. He sounds as empty as you feel, “I knew you wouldn’t let me in, and even though I understand why, I couldn’t take the chance. We need to talk,” Yoongi continues, giving up on joking in favour of just telling you how it is. An awkward silence hangs in the air for a few moments before Yoongi is talking again, “Look, I’m an idiot. I said some awful things to you and I just hate myself for it. Not that you didn’t already know that,” The sigh he lets out sounds pained, and you find yourself shaking your head,

“Yeah, you’re a dick for saying that to me, but I crossed the line as well. When I first saw you I thought I recognised you, so I talked to some old college friends,” You use the term loosely, “They told me what happened, but I wasn’t going to mention it to you. It can’t have been…” You pause to try and rephrase, not wanting to make this situation any worse, “It wasn’t any of my business. I’d had a few drinks, I don’t even know what I was thinking,” Your voice trails off quietly, and you’re unsure if Yoongi even heard.

It’s a little unsettling how weird this feels. The time you’d spent with Yoongi as of late has felt so natural, but this feels forced and empty. If you had a heart left to break any further, this would certainly do the trick. The only sounds in the room is you shifting into the chair further, and the shallow sound of Yoongi’s breath.

He gathers his thoughts as best he can, hoping you’ll know not to interrupt him when he starts talking. If he stops, he’s not sure he’ll be able to continue.

He hasn’t moved much the last few days, and his job has been angrily blowing up his phone the whole time. If he doesn’t go back tomorrow then he won’t have a job to go back to at all. The time Yoongi’s had has been full of thoughts and feelings and honestly it was quite scary. He’d forbidden himself to ever touch those feelings again, and he still hasn’t in any depth, but he’s getting the urge to try and explain them. That’s part of the reason that he’s here. Other than the fact that he’s been in pain being so separate from his soulmate, he wants to talk about it. He wants to tell you what happened,

“It wasn’t… just an experiment. Me and Marcus,” Yoongi says as firmly as he can. You jolt a little and look up at him in shock. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting Yoongi to say but it definitely wasn’t that, “I liked him, and he liked me. We knew we’d break up at some point because our necklaces were different, but it just felt right at the time. It was just a bit of fun, so neither one of us were expecting it to last long,” You don’t say anything or move in fear of interrupting Yoongi, “I was on my back from his house one night, and I saw some of his friends waiting outside. I nodded at them but didn’t stop to talk. We weren’t that close. It wasn’t even that far between Marcus’ dorm and mine, so I’d told him to stay there, that I could walk myself home. So yeah, I was on my own. There was a shortcut that cut the walk in half, but it was a dark alley. Narrow. It wasn’t until I got too far in to turn around that I realised his friends were following me,” Yoongi breaks off with a deep breath, running. Shaking hand through his hair. The colour is starting to fade now, “You know what happened next. They beat the shit out of me. I hadn’t been playing basketball for a while so I wasn’t that strong, and there were too many of them, anyway. I just had to take it, while they were shouting all these slurs at me, telling me to leave Marcus alone… they made it clear they didn’t want their friend around a fag like me, as they put it,” His shoulders sag as he falls silent, and you know that his story’s over.

His words hang in the air and all you can do is sit three, tucking your knees into your body as you wonder how fucked up those guys had to be. Then you wonder how badly it fucked Yoongi up. Clearly this is the reason why he refuses to be more than friends with you, but you can’t even fathom it. Sure, you’ve had more than your fair share of homophobia directed at you, but this is too much,

“When I think about being in love,” Yoongi presses on, and you feel the urge to tell him to stop if it’s going to put too much strain on him, but you can see that he needs to explain this to someone, “When I think about being in love like that, it messes with my head. I feel like I’m back there… I just don’t know if I can do it. Seeing you be so openly gay fucks with my head too. Part of me wishes I could do that and be that, but at the same time I’d hate it. I know it’s confusing, but this is what it’s like in my head. It’s sick,” He mutters bitterly, and you silently agree. It is sick. It’s sick that Yoongi should feel physically sick for something completely normal to him!

Part of you desperately wants to hold him close to you and run your fingers through his hair as if you can comb out all of his problems, but you know full well that you probably couldn’t do anything worse in this situation. He really has internalised those people’s homophobia and directed it at himself with such force that he can’t even enjoy his soulmate. He can’t enjoy the love written out for him because someone decided it wasn’t right.

There’s nothing to say, you realise, when you finally come out of your own head. No comforting words are going to soothe Yoongi, and all they’re likely to do is make him feel patronised or pitied. You know he doesn’t want your pity. So all you can do is sit there, not touching or speaking or moving, but just being in each other’s presence and hoping it will do something to fix the mess that this has become.

Eventually, you both fall asleep where you’re sat, and sleep dreamlessly for the first time since that basketball game.

You wake up the next morning to Yoongi sniffling in the kitchen behind you and the sound of the kettle boiling. He was trying to do it quietly so you would wake up with you favourite drink in front of you as a peace offering. He’s still not totally sure if you’ll forgive him for flying off the handle, yet. There wasn’t a conversation last night, just Yoongi doing a lot of talking and you doing a lot of listening.

There’s a funny sore spot on your neck from how you slept, and you’re still a little out of it. For a moment, you don’t really remember what happened, and the scenario just seems really domestic and happy. You stretch out with a smile on your face, until the memories trickle back into your head slowly. That’s when you taste the awkward atmosphere, and remember that this is most definitely neither domestic nor happy. After that realisation hits you, you feel Yoongi’s eyes graze over your back, seeing that you’re awake,

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. I… I made you some hot chocolate and I found the marshmallows… I feel really bad for the last few days and, I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping that we could talk even though I’d understand if you asked me to leave,” Yoongi says as he sets your drink down in front of you, cradling his own coffee between his hands, “First I shout at you and then I break into your house. I’m not much of a soulmate for you,” He says ironically, and you smile slightly when you realise that’s the first time Yoongi has referred to himself directly as your soulmate.

Yoongi doesn’t meet your eye as he talks, and you pick up the steaming drink to sip from it gently trying not to burn yourself but needing the warmth. This is so difficult. So much has happened, but Yoongi really did hurt you when he exploded like that. You don’t want to forgive him so easily, but he opened up about a huge point in his life and his deepest feelings. You don’t know what to do in the slightest, and eventually Yoongi lowers himself onto the couch awkwardly, hoping that you won’t be kicking him out just yet. If the last few days have taught him anything, it’s that if you don’t talk about this then you’ll lose each other. Yoongi tries not to dwell on the obviously romantic connotations of that ultimatum.

He struggles to find things to look at other than you, but manages to do it for a few minutes until you lean forward and set your hot chocolate down, thinking your thoughts might be nearly coherent enough to explain. You’ll try and satisfy both parts of your dilemma,

“Okay, you were an asshole the last time you were here. You know that, and you know me. If you think I’m letting you off the hook this easily then you’re having a laugh,” You say firmly, and Yoongi ducks his head a little, still unable to meet your eye, “But I also understand why you did it,” You continue softly, and Yoongi is shocked into looking up at you, “You have issues, Yoongi. I’d feel bad just kicking you out without a second thought in light of that. Can you understand my dilemma?” You ask, and Yoongi sighs to himself, rubbing his forehead as if trying to cure a headache,

“Yeah. I mean, this was always going to hurt, given my situation and your… being a guy. We wanted different things from this whole necklace shit but I don’t know if I can give you what you’re looking for,” He explains, and you weakly ask him what he wanted from it. Your voice sounds so much thinner than it normally does, but you can feel this like a punch in the gut. Yoongi doesn’t want you, not in the way you want him. You always knew that, but hearing it for certain just aches, “I wanted a nice woman to come and be matched up with me. I wanted to be able to forget what happened in college forever. I wanted to believe my lie - that it was just an experiment. I wanted to get married and have a family without the drama, and even if it wasn’t quite what I wanted deep down, it would be enough. Enough to… I don’t know, pretend that the part of me that wants something else is just a bad dream,” Yoongi explains and you cast your eyes downwards. His are filling with tears and you want him to have some privacy from your scrutiny, “I guess I’m not exactly what you wanted, either,” He spits bitterly, trying to laugh it off but failing,

“You kinda look like it, I’ll give you that,” You half-joke, not wanting Yoongi to know how transparent his act is, “I know you don’t want me to go into it, so we can just skip over this whole bit and be platon-“

“Tell me,” Yoongi interrupts, and you’re taken aback by that for a few seconds. You have to steady your heartbeat, but you oblige regardlessly,

“You’re cute,” You say, barely above a whisper, wanting Yoongi to be able to pretend he hadn’t heard you if he’s already changed his mind. But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, so you continue with caution, “You’ve got a sweet smile, and these kind eyes that you try to hide behind a frown. You act tough but you’re deeper than that and I’ve seen it. You always pack an extra water bottle when we go out and if you have any change on you then you always give it to the homeless. I always imagined that I’d be the Prince Charming for a sweet man like you. I always wanted to be stronger and taller and all of that shallow stuff, and when I look at you I can see that side of me clearer than ever. I want-“ You pause, cutting yourself off, “I’m not sure you want to hear this. I don’t think I can say it knowing it could hurt you,”

“Please, tell me,” He murmurs, eyes meeting yours with a new, indescribable kind of emotion in them, “I need to hear this. Regardless of how this affects me, we need to know about what the other wants,” You nod wordlessly and push on as if you hadn’t stopped,

“I want to protect you. I want to hold you close and tuck you under my chin when it’s cold. I want you to sleep on my chest and I want to shower you with the affections that you deserve but because I know you can’t give me that, I don’t expect it. I want to be crystal clear about that,” Your voice fills with conviction as you move to sit on the coffee table in front of Yoongi so that he has no choice but to look at you, “You don’t ever have to give me anything. I’ll never even ask for it. If you want a wingman, I’ll be the best wingman you could ever ask for. This necklace doesn’t mean shit and I swear to you that all it means to me is that I needs to make you happy. Even though that’s not with me, I’ll still do my best to give you what you do want and what you do need,” Fire burns in your eyes, and anything Yoongi was going to say fizzles out in his brain. His eyes widen solemnly and he nods dumbly, only able to get out one single word,

“Okay,”

It’s been several months since you and Yoongi had that huge… fight? You use that term very loosely, because it wasn’t so much a fight as a huge eruption and misunderstanding of emotion. Regardless of what word you use to describe it with, it’s over now and it has been for a long time. You’ve grown so much closer in the time since then and it’s genuinely so amazing. You’re no closer than best friends are - you meet at least twice a week, sometimes watching some films, and sometimes going out to do things. Yoongi was anxious about joining the local basketball team on his own as a hobby, so you’d gone with him the first time just to help him out. A few months down the line, and you’re their second best player! Yoongi, of course, takes the top spot. It’s ridiculous since you’re so much taller than him, but whatever! You have to remind yourself constantly that he’s good enough to have gotten offered a full scholarship, and you’ve been playing for a few months, but it doesn’t stop you getting frustrated when you play against him in small games and warm ups.

You’re the notorious pair, so competitive on the court and yet so close off the court.

Yoongi didn’t have many friends when you met him, but you had a small group who were happy to welcome him in. One remembered him from college, but everyone else accepted without question that you’ve found your platonic soulmate in Yoongi.

You’re both part of each other’s family, now. His parents didn’t have a problem with you after they got over the fact that their Yoongi wouldn’t give them any grandchildren, and your parents adore him. Of course, you made to clear up that Yoongi was most definitely not any kind of love interest for you, while tactfully avoiding why you wouldn’t even try. What happened to Yoongi remains privately between you, him and the therapist he’s been seeing.

He visits them once a week to try and get over his internalised homophobia and make him a more healthy person. You’d mentioned it to him in passing one night when you’d been having one of your deep chats. It happens every now and again, usually after one of you has had a bad day or if Yoongi feels particularly uncomfortable with himself. You’d figured he’d brush the idea off, but within a few weeks he’d found somewhere that said they could try and help him to start to deal with it. He hasn’t looked back since.

Yoongi is most definitely getting better. Anyone could see that! He’s happier, less anxious and is more positive in general. He still won’t tell you when a guy catches his eye, but you’ve seen his eyes wander a few times. Even though he snaps out of it quickly, it’s progress and that’s the important things. You wouldn’t care if Yoongi never told you when he finds someone attractive, if you’re totally honest. It’s about him being happy with every single part of himself. That’s what’s important here,

“If I ever get over this… you know what I mean… completely, will you want us to be together?” Yoongi asks you out of the blue one night. You’d met him from his therapy session to grab some dinner and catch up, and he’d been a little more thoughtful than is normal for him. He’s always a little drained after his sessions, but he has a little crease in his forehead where h’s been frowning, and that’s never happened before. This must be why,

“Yoongi, I don’t expect anything from you. Not one little thing. You don’t owe me anything,” You say, horrified that he thinks that’s what you want, “If you ever feel comfortable enough to want a guy , I won’t force myself onto you. I promise that I’m more than happy with you as we are right now. You’re my closest friend. I’m not just hanging around for you to put out,” You explain, looking away only to order from the counter. It gives Yoongi time to think that over, and when you turn back he’s got a gummy smile on his face,

“Sorry, I just worry sometimes,” He admits sheepishly, and you snort with stifled laughter. You slap the back of his head playfully and remind him that he shouldn’t apologise for worrying.

But that thought still sits in the back of Yoongi’s mind, whispering to him. He wonders if you’d want that kind of relationship if he ever gets better, and he wonders if maybe he’d want it to. He slots the idea away in his head to talk over with his therapist next week. She’ll be happy to know that Yoongi’s able to think about it at all, since it’s a huge step forward from where he started. Obviously it’s going to take more than half a year of therapy to fix years of suppression and damage, but he can already feel a change in him. He watches you laugh and flirt with the guy making your food, and Yoongi knows it’s a change for the better.

It’s been three years since Yoongi delivered your pizza to you, but neither of you noticed the ‘anniversary’ of sorts pass by. There are more important things going on in your lives than insignificant details like that.

Yoongi’s mental health is at it’s most secure that it’s been since you met, and he even admits when he sees a guy he likes the look of with minimal probing! Even though he won’t let you be his wingman just yet, you’re so excited for how well he’s doing. He’s satisfied as well, and he’s has explained that it feels like a weight is slowly being lifted from his shoulders.

He knows he still has a long way to go now, but he’s motivated. He wants to do it.

Yoongi’s on his way to yours straight from his appointment at the hairdressers, so he can take you to basketball practice. He’d gotten rid of the mint green look just before quitting his job at the pizza place, because he didn’t want his chances at a new job to be ruined by a ‘punk look’ as he put it (even though you’ve told him countless times that a squishy boy like him couldn’t look punk if he tried). He’s a music producer now! He’s not famous or anything, but he has him name on some big tracks, and his income is quite good. Far better than the pizza delivery job, and he’s happy doing it. He genuinely loves what he’s doing. It’s not just Yoongi who’s gotten better over the last few years. You’ve found a new passion in basketball, and you started taking night classes to qualify yourself for a better job. You flew through them and took the exams early, and quit your crappy dead-end job just last week. You start your dream job on Monday!

Yoongi knocks on your door is his cutely unique way - two quick knocks, a pause, and then another. You’re way too excited to see what new colour he’s gone with. He’s tried a whole rainbow - pink, red, orange, silver, blue, purple and probably a few you’ve forgotten. You’re surprised he still has a full head of hair. After he’d settled in at the music studio, he realised how much they didn’t care about appearance. He was the only one with a natural hair colour! They’d told him he didn’t have to stick with black if he didn’t want to, and he hasn’t looked back since,

”Hmm, blonde. An expected move, but okay. It suits you,” You admit as you grab your gym bag from the hooks by your door and sling it over one shoulder, “We good to go?” You prompt when Yoongi makes no move to step out of your doorway to let you out. If you knew the reason, you wouldn’t be so quick to speak up. There’s this feeling in Yoongi’s chest and it’s throwing him off. Something scary. Something meaningful. Something… fluttery. He rolls his eyes as he steps out of your way, muttering two words that you won’t think are of any importance for a few months yet, at the very least,

“Fucking butterflies.”

[journeythrough-impossiblethings]

Journal of Impossible Things   Journey Through Impossible Things

John I – Fobwatched Tenth Doctor – David Tennant – #Journal-of-Impossible-Things-Volume-I / #Human-Nature-Family-of-Blood – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

The Tenth Doctor was hiding away from the Family of Blood in England in 1913. He used the chameleon arch to become John Smith, a perfectly ordinary human being, a man with his head in the clouds perhaps a bit too much. He was a school teacher who dreamed of being a Lord of Time. His dreams were filled with fantastical, almost fairytale-like adventures with monsters and aliens and a tiny, enormous, impossible box that travels anywhere and anywhen in the universe. And she was there, in his dreams. Her face was in his dreams, even before he knew her (he had proof, too; he drew her in his Journal of Impossible Things before he met her). She made John Smith fall in love and showed the Doctor what it was like to be normal for once. They were married and the Doctor almost had a chance at an ordinary, simple, beautiful life. But they found him, and John Smith had to wake up from his dream of an ordinary life and become the Doctor again. He left her behind, because she was just a fairytale. He didn’t know he would meet her again.

John II – Fobwatched Twelfth Doctor – Peter Capaldi – #Journal-of-Impossible-Things-Volume-II / #The-Newest-Time-Lord – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

Anna finds out she is pregnant, and Anna and the Doctor decide it is best to use the chameleon arch to turn him back into John Smith, and settle down on Earth until the baby is old enough for it to be safe for them to travel together. They live in the 21st century, which takes some getting used to for John, since he was from 1913, but he adjusts quickly. He gets a job as a schoolteacher again and continues to write his dreams down in his updated version of the Journal of Impossible Things, only this time knowing it is all real. Anna secretly works for UNIT to do her best to keep trouble away from the Doctor and the baby while the Doctor is human and the baby is young, trying to give them as normal a life as possible. Except for Him, of course. Their sentient ex-war machine “Living Construct” companion who has basically taken on the role of nanny while they’re grounded on Earth. That part is still a little unusual. Also that the Doctor still talks to his son through his watch, and sometimes the Doctor’s doppelgänger (from another life), literally, shows up.

John III – Human John – Eddie Redmayne – #Journal-of-Impossible-Things-Volume-III / #A-Life-Of-His-Own – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

After the Doctor gets stuck in the confession dial for four and a half billion years, he has a lot of emotional issues to sort out. He can deal with the pain fine, but what he can’t deal with his the pain his own pain is causing his empathic wife. She can literally feel what he feels, and he can’t stand to let her go through all that pain, so the deal was that she would live on Earth until he recovered enough from the trauma. He wouldn’t be alone. He had Tavin, and he would of course have companions like he always does. He promised he would not be alone. He wouldn’t let her be alone, either, of course. He found a couple on Earth, Sydney and Verity Lambert, in the year 1982. After the birth of their first son, they were unable to have any more children due to complications with the first pregnancy, but they really wanted their son to have a sibling. The Doctor helped them have another child, if it could be John. So he put John’s personality into the new embryo. John was a test-tube baby, but no one knew that except his parents (and the Doctor and Anna). John’s memories of his other lives were suppressed, but they still leaked out, usually in the form of dreams that he wrote down, like always. When he was in his twenties, he was a school teacher as a History teacher at the same school that Anna works at. They started dating, and not long after that Anna helped John’s suppressed memories come to the surface. They got married and had five children together and adopted a sixth, Terra Verity, their identical twins Aiden Daniel and Calder Sydney and their adopted Zygon triplet Pete Basil, Martha Skye, and Sarah Jane II.

John IV – TARDIS Matrix Ghost – Eddie Redmayne / Peter Capaldi / David Tennant – #Journal-of-Impossible-Things-Volume-IV / #In-the-Matrix – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

Anna died of old age after the human John died, and Anna was reborn as a man, going by the name of Sean. Sean finds the Twelfth Doctor, who is currently a lecturer at a university, where he and Nardole are guarding Missy in a vault beneath the school. Sean and the Doctor take the TARDIS and go back to find John as he is dying, where John’s consciousness is uploaded to a fragment of the Time Lord Matrix kept in the Doctor’s TARDIS. John stays in the TARDIS Matrix while Sean occasionally sits in the Doctor’s classes and visits John, goes on adventures with the Doctor and his student and companion Bill in the TARDIS. John gets very lonely in the Matrix by himself and they discuss the possibility of finding a way to get him out of the Matrix at about the same time they discover Anna/Sean is actually a fobwatched (second version of) Patience, the Doctor’s Time Lady (now Time Lord) wife from Gallifrey, and Anna didn’t reincarnate into Sean, she regenerated into him. They had tried to keep Anna’s marriage to John and her marriage to the Doctor separate until now (even though it’s been in debate about if they’re even different people or the same person), but when they decided to find a way to get John out of the Matrix they all accepted that Anna is going to be with both of them.

John IV.5 I – HoloJohn – Eddie Redmayne – #Journey-Through-Impossible-Things-Volume-I / #HoloDreams / #HoloJohn – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

They project a hologram of John outside of the Matrix, just within the TARDIS, so he doesn’t have to be stuck in there all the time. He travels with the Doctor, Bill and Sean as they figure out their new dynamic, but has to stay within the TARDIS. Patience and Sean decide to stay as one person, so that Sean releases Patience and has both Anna/Sean’s memories and Patience’s, but still goes mostly by Sean/Anna. At the end of The Doctor Falls, Sean stays with the Doctor as he’s blowing up the Cybermen, and the explosion causes Sean to regenerate back into a woman, who is the fourth incarnation of Patience.

John IV.5 II – RoboJohn – Eddie Redmayne – #Journey-Through-Impossible-Things-Volume-II / #Androids-Dream-of-Existential-Crises / #RoboJohn / #John-Synth – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

During Twice Upon a Time, when Testimony had the Twelfth Doctor’s TARDIS with John still inside, since he only exists within the TARDIS, they found him in there. They talked to him and found at the Doctor and Anna saved him very similarly to how they save people, but he’s stuck inside the TARDIS. They asked him if he wanted to join them, so he wouldn’t be trapped in there, but turned them down because he didn’t want to leave Anna and the Doctor. Later Testimony helped the Doctor find a synthetic body for John on New Earth from the time that Testimony comes from.

John IV.5 III – WereJohn – Eddie Redmayne – #Journey-Through-Impossible-Things-Volume-III / Howl-on-the-Moon / #WereJohn – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse

During one of their adventures, they came across a lycanthropic virus that can apparently mutate to infect synthetic bodies, and John got infected with it. The Thirteenth Doctor went back and got pregnant with Sean’s daughter who they name Jamie Alistair. Anna (Patience IV) gives birth to the Tenth Doctor’s son they name Jason Chesterton, and later somehow John gets Anna pregnant with fraternal triplets, two daughters and a son who share John’s lycanthropic virus. Their two daughters Diana and Connor and their son Lowell. Thirteen, Anna and John raise all five of the children together. Later John has a child with Patience V named Eirlys, who has a mutation of the lycanthropic virus making them a wereseal. Sometime later, during the time of the Eighteenth Doctor, Anna becomes Sean II, and he has a baby, Rosalyn, with a version of John from another universe, Kara Jon, and Kara Jon and her Anna, and Sean II, John and Eighteen all raise her, mostly in a split-custody sort of way since there’s a bit of a long distance thing, being from different universes and all.

John IV has interacted with Pete White from the Venture Bros. Fandom and Jareth the Goblin King from the Labyrinth Fandom. We also have a character who is a regular in this verse who is a Warforged OC (called Him) from the D&D Eberron Campaign Setting Fandom.

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John IV from Mainverse - #Journey-Through-Impossible-Things-Unbound - Doctor Who TTW-verse AU/Canon Divergent

Once, before Thirteen was an actual thing, and before I made John III, just after the first Fantastic Beasts film came out, after I saw the movie I really wanted to play Newt Scamander, but Anna hadn't seen the movie yet, so very briefly I made an AU OC version of the Thirteenth Doctor with Eddie Redmayne as the FC who was basically just Newt Scamander but as the Doctor. Later, after I officially made Eddie Redmayne the main FC for John, we briefly talked about combining the two verses where John and the (Thirteenth) Doctor looked like twins. Although, now that I think about it, he could also be the elusive Eighteenth Doctor who is the Doctor during Sean II's time, instead of the Thirteenth. Idk.

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Fobwatched Doctors AU

Fobwatched Doctors – #Fobwatched!AU – William Hartnell (Richard Hurndall, David Bradley), Patrick Troughton (Reece Shearsmith), Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Colin Baker, Sylvester McCoy, Paul McGann, John Hurt, Christopher Eccleston, Matt Smith, Jodie Whittaker, Peter Cushing – Doctor Who, Time Traveler’s Wife Whoniverse 2

John Smith One (AU Fobwatched!One) | William Hartnell (Richard Hurndall, David Bradley) | Scientific Journalist

John Smith Two (AU Fobwatched!Two) | Patrick Troughton (Reece Shearsmith) | Nursery Assistant

Jon Smith Three (AU Fobwatched!Three) | Jon Pertwee | Mechanical Engineer

John Smith Four (AU Fobwatched!Four) | Tom Baker | Sailor and Artist

John Smith Five (AU Fobwatched!Five) | Peter Davison | Writer and Author

John Smith Six (AU Fobwatched!Six) | Colin Baker | Weatherman

John Smith Seven (EU Fobwatched!Seven) | Sylvester McCoy | Human Nature novel | Teacher

John Smith Eight (AU Fobwatched!Eight) | Paul McGann | Zookeeper

John Smith War (AU Fobwatched!War Doctor) | John Hurt | Diplomat

John Smith Nine (AU Fobwatched!Nine) | Christopher Eccleston | Police Officer

John Smith Ten (Fobwatched!Ten) | David Tennant | English Teacher | Human Nature/Family of Blood Canon Divergent Fobwatched Tenth Doctor

Anna met and married John before she knew the Doctor. She finds out about the Doctor from John's dreams, his journal, and by confronting John's living pocket watch with the Doctor's consciousness inside about it. This version of John also meets Jackson Lake while he believes that he is the "Tenth" (or actually Eleventh) version of the Doctor.

John Smith Eleven (AU Fobwatched!Eleven) | Matt Smith | Toymaker

John Smith Twelve (AU Fobwatched!Twelve) | Peter Capaldi | Teacher

Joan Smith Thirteen (AU Fobwatched!Thirteen) | Jodie Whittaker | Mechanic and Inventor

Dr. John Who (AU Fobwatched Unknown Doctor) | Peter Cushing | Scientist and Inventor

The Celestial Toymaker kidnapped the Doctor, made him use the chameleon arch making him believe that he's a human scientist named Dr. Who, who invented a time machine, and travels with his granddaughters Susan and Barbara and Barbara's boyfriend Ian, and later his niece Louise, as well as a man named Tom Campbell by accident, fight the Daleks and reliving some of the First Doctor's adventures with some small changes.

[dangermousie]

Reading list for the month - hooray for the Middle Ages!!

I’ve not really been watching much lately (except that I just discovered the Legend of Fuyao and it’s AHMAZING) but I have been reading a bunch, hence the reading list. I also have a v short attention span so while I am not reading all the books listed below that I recently got and/or put on my kindle, I am reading about five of them at once.

As you can tell, I am on the Middle Ages kick right now. Also, as you can tell, current historical crushes are apparently William the Conqueror and Edward the Black Prince and Richard III (always.) Hmmmm.

Valerie Anand, King of the Wood - how many novels are there about the time of William Rufus aka Fabulously Gay aka Killed By Arrow Mysteriously Probably By Orders of Baby Bro? This one revolves around William and Ralph de somebody, a minor nobleman who comes over to get lands and power. Ralph is young and hot and William fancies him and even though Ralph is not inclined that way, he is not going to turn down a roll or dozen in the hay with the king if it gets him closer to his goal. Apparently this all leads to mixed results, eventual death of William, ancient pagan rites, Ralph getting some land and a hot wife, and overall a very sympathetic portrayal of William Rufus. I have not started yet though.

Anna Belfrage, The Cold Light of Dawn - the fourth and possibly last in one of my favorite medieval series that follows the lives of a minor knight, Adam, and his arranged but then more, wife, Kit during the reigns of Edward II and III.  This is such a lovely lovely series and this book so far is as good as the rest. Adam is a protege of Roger Mortimer (of the “de facto ruler of England, lover of Queen Isabella’ fame) and when the book 1 starts is slated to arrange marry a spoiled aristocrat who is missing so her family hastily substitutes a bastard daughter and lieeeees. The books follow them as they fall in love, reveal their secrets, try to survive in a pretty horrible time period etc etc. Adam eventually becomes close to Edward III which causes all sorts of internal conflicts. Book 1 is probably my fave (though second half of it is a giant trigger warning as Despenser takes Adam and, to lesser degree, Kit, under his notice) but all of them are good and the latest is wonderful as always. Frankly, by now, I love the lead couple so much, I could just read about them going about their business in their residence for 500 pages.  

Anna Chant, Three Times the Lady - I can’t believe I found a novel about Judith, first Countess of Flanders! If you do not know who she is, Judith was a daughter of a Frank king who married her to a much older king of Wessex. When the old man died, she married his grown son (this was a few centuries before the Church would have fits about this) and when that man died, she returned back home. Daddy King did not want to lose such a valuable bargaining chip (who was still quite young) either to make her own marriage or to be taken by some lord via kidnap so he stuck her in a remote fortress while he decided which potential husband would make the best bargain. Ummm. Hunky Baldwin was guarding the place, he and Judith fell for each other and with the help of her brother ran off and got married. Daddy King lost his mind, took Baldwin’s lands, the lovers had to go to the Pope to beg for help blah blah eventually Daddy King cooled down, Baldwin became the first Court of Flanders and got nicknamed Iron Arm for how hard he fought to protect his father in law. So basically, this is a RL medieval romance, of the “hot dude in chainmail holding pretty lady on cover” variety. Seriously - I am very surprised this is the only novel of her I know. I realize records were not as good as they were later but this just gives more room for license. I am quite excited to read this since I’ve read a couple of other books by Chant set around that time and loved them.

Joanna Courtney, The Conqueror’s Queen - Matilda, Mrs the Conqueror. Hmmmmmm. I am about 1/3 in. The book’s odd insistence on Matilda liking but not loving William despite his being amazing in beddddd and generally a stud muffin of stud muffiness is a little odd (it’s just an odd combo) but it’s a fun light read. What I would really love is for someone like Sharon Kay Penman to write a giant doorstopper of a series about that reign.

Joanna Courtney, The Constant Queen - about Elizabeth, the Russian wife of Harald Hardrada. I am about 60% in. It’s not as good as it could be (it doesn’t make Harald interesting which, even reading a short summary of his life on wikipedia - the man had an insane life) but it’s about a subject that’s not novelized often or even that well-know (in fact, prior to this book, the one thing I knew about Harald was that he was defeated by Harold Godwinson who then had to take his exhausted troops and march to fight William the Conqueror. If not for that, England now might be ruled by Harold’s and not William’s descendants.) Also, Elizabeth herself is likeable and the author does a good job on selling me that the two loved each other even while not falling into the trap of making the relationships modern (Harald has a hand-fast wife because he needs sons; it’s not much of an issue etc.) It’s a pleasant beach/travel read.

Dorothy Dunnett, King Hereafter - my favorite stand-alone period novel of all time and I am gonna reread it and bawl. It’s about Earl Thorfinn of Orkney, who Dunnett supposes to be the basis for historical Macbeth. It is simply the best historical novel ever written and if Thorfinn/Groa don’t move you, you have no heart. It’s also a rare book where people feel like people of the period, not modern people playing dress up.

Parke Godwin, Sherwood/Robin and the King - I used to love this bleak, emotional, amazing duology which moves the story of Robin Hood around the time of the Norman Conquest. I just got my hands on it again.

Karen Harper, The First Princess of Wales - ok, this is pretty much a romance novel. About Edward the Black Prince and Joan of Kent. So bring it on!

Justin Hill, Viking Fire - a novel about Harald Hardrada whose life I am fascinated by now

Thomas W. Jensen, As a Black Prince on Bloody Fields - I am currently about a third into this and loving it. It deals with basically the first half of the life of Edward the Black Prince, who is one of my favorite historical what-ifs. Oldest son and heir of Edward III, the Black Prince was a hell of a medieval warrior, very involved in Crecy and in charge in Poitiers, two of the three biggest English victories in the 100 years war. In the latter, heavily outnumbered English captured the French king himself. Also, interestingly, he married for love in quite a scandal. Instead of marrying a foreign royal, he married an English noblewoman, older than him (she was 32 when they married!!!), a widow with five children AND a scandalous history (her first two husbands had a fight that went all the way to the Pope about which one of them was her actual husband. There were secret marriages and all that.) He married in secret, his father eventually came around etc. He would have probably made a King in the scary but effective mold of Edward I, but on one of his campaigns, he contracted one of many nasty medieval diseases -  dystentery - which crippled and eventually killed him shortly before his father died, leaving his small son to become Richard II.  If the Black Prince was better about drinking clean water, Edward III would have been succeeded not by a small child who, as an adult, wasn’t particularly cut out for the rough business of medieval Kingship, but by a competent and scary adult warrior. Thus no Henry IV revolt (do you really want to face the man who almost conquered France), no war of the Roses, no Tudors, no Church of England. Anyway, he was a fascinating man, in some ways an epitome of medieval warrior class ideals but probably because of that, there aren’t too many novels about him in the last whatever years. Like Henry V, his virtues are a bit too alien for the modern world. He is VERY medieval. But I find him fascinating beyond measure and deserving of more books about him, so this excellent excellent novel is such a pleasure.

Susan Fraser King, Queen Hereafter - about Margaret, wife of Malcolm (of the son of Duncan, killer of Macbeth fame.) I know little about it except the topic interests me.

G. Lawrence, The Heart of the Conqueror - Matilda, again. Matilda here is portrayed as rather an anti-heroine, vain, ambitious and picking William because he’s the scariest and most capable man she met. They are monsters in love (though, frankly, their attitudes are not such much monstrous as early medieval) and I do love them so. I find it quite odd that the author chose to start her novel with the apocryphal story of Matilda insulting William’s courtship and calling him a bastard and William riding in to beat her up in her own father’s town and her deciding this is what she digs in a dude. Lawrence makes the beatdown, already possibly fictional, quite brutal, so it makes me wonder if Matilda is insane to decide William is it because of it. Also, he never lays a finger on her again so wtf. Oh well, historically they did seem to have a rare successful marriage so there is that - I don’t mind him being a good husband since it’s historically accurate, it’s just the weird start to the relationship that makes me boggle.

Rosanne E. Lortz, I Serve: A Novel of the Black Prince - you can tell I am on the Black Prince kick, right? This is about a squire to him and looks quite interesting but I haven’t read it yet.

Isolde Martyn, The Knight and the Rose - sometimes you are just in the mood for an angsty but happy medieval romance.

Anne O’Brien, The Virgin Widow - Romancey take on Anne and Richard III? Yes PLS. If I like this, I might end up getting more of the author’s books as she appears to specialize in known but not super famous medieval women with strong romantic relationships, so YES. I did find it tragically amusing that in order to make the end happy (I peeked), she ends before all the bad stuff happens - their son dying, Anne dying, Richard being killed etc. But then I bawled with the Sunne in Spendour so....

Edith Pargeter, The Brothers of Gwynnedd - reread. It’s a great, epic, tragic, poetic tale of the end of the Welsh independence and surprisingly, in light of all the tragedy, somewhat of a comfort read.

Judith Merkle Riley, A Vision of Light - about a widow of a medieval merchant, this has been recommended to me by multiple people. We shall see.

Anya Seton, Katherine - I read that book so long ago, I barely remember anything. But it’s a classic and Katherine Swynford has always been interesting and I am a sucker for RL romance so reread!!!

Freda Warrington, The Court of the Midnight King - a fantasy AU of Richard III where he gets to live and be happy with his mistress Kate (modeled on mother of his illegitimate child in RL) Oh YES.

[dove-among-bats]

"no! Don't you dare shut me out!" dick and Jay?

Jason carefully peeled the leather jacket off his bloodiedshoulder, wincing as the fabric pulled against the edges of the wound. The bloodsticking skin, Kevlar and jacket all together like some sort of morbid glue.

 Tonight had not gone well at all, it never did when he wasin Gotham. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the city hated him being there,or, more likely, her dark night hated him being there.

 The scar across his neck itched at the memory, and he squeezedhis eyes shut. Focusing on keeping his breathing in control, in and out, likeAlfred taught him when he was young. Now was no time to remember what happened.It was in the past.

 A painful past, but when you worked alongside gods andlegends, who didn’t have one nowadays?

 But still. His fingers reached up and touched the pink, tautskin. Some just had to have it worse than others.

 Shaking his head to clear his mind, he went back to peelingaway his layers of clothing, jacket, and chest armor inscribed with his red batinsignia, Kevlar shirt, and tank top. All landing randomly upon hisbloodstained couch, he hadn’t cared to clean in the first few times he hadcollapsed and bled all over it, and by the time he did, it was far too late forthe thing.

 The hole in his shoulder stung from the new contact of air;having knives driven entirely through his shoulder was nothing new these days. He’dhave to trust that it wasn’t necessary to sew up the exit point; he wasn’tElongated Man after all.

 A creak from the other side of his window had his earsperking up, but he focused his eyes on the first aide infront of him, diggingthrough to set out what he would need.

 “What happened?”

He knew it, the guy must’ve set traps in all of his knownlocations, rolling his eyes as he scoffed “Last I checked, I told you to getfucking lost” not necessarily true, he hadn’t told him, and instead had lefthim a note.

 Footsteps, then asting that had him gasps as a damp pad of some sort swiped over the exit wound,turning quickly to glare at the older man, only to find him opening anotherantiseptic packet and using it on his shoulder, working slowly and carefully.Focused on his work, he turned back to digging stuff out of the first aide box.Fine, if he was having one of those days where he was going to be bigbrotherly. Nothing was going to stop him, and Jason did not have the energy totry.

 He almost settled into the quietness of the room. Almost, untilDick decided to break the silence with words that, admittedly, struck Jason’ssoul deep and hard, twisting up his gut and wrenching at his heart.

“Nine years”

“What?”                                                                                                                                                                                              

“It’s been nine years since we lost you, and you’re alivebut we still don’t have you back”

“I’m not some fucking toy that can be owned” he snapped,whipping his head around to glare, only to let his entire face drop at thesight of Dick’s. It looked exactly like it had when a thirteen year old Jasonhad found him crying in the attic, after an accident involving Bruce thatnearly cost their father his life.

 Dick’s startling blue eyes met his own green tinted brown “Exactly,you’re irreplaceable, you’re my little brother, you’re Bruce’s son, Alfie’sgrandson, and you have the chance to be a big brother, Please Jay, come home tous”

He turned back to preparing the needle to sew him up,stewing in silence. How dare he, the golden fucking child, make it seem sofucking easy? What right did he have? He didn’t know what Bruce was like!

Except, he did, he knew exactly what Bruce was like. Haddealt with him far longer then Jason, an argument between Bruce and Dick wasthe only reason Jason had a chance at the name Robin in the first place.

“Get out” he murmured, this what not what he wanted.

“What?”

“I said get out!” he lashed out, swinging his bad arm out atDick and shoving him away, leaping up and twisting to face him, confusioncrossed the older man’s face, but anger quickly covered it, his hands curlinginto white knuckled fists.

“No! Don’t you dare shut me out!” he shouted, stalkingforward as he uncurled one hand, his finger jabbing into Jason’s chest “Youthink you can gallivant around, doing your own thing, ignoring your family,ignoring your own problems, well news flash idiot. You can’t! Everyone fuckingneeds someone to lean on, and yeah, there’s been fucking problems, familiesalways have problems! Big fucking whoop!” by the time he was done his back wasturned and his hands were raised in the air. And Jason thought that maybe if itwere any colder he would see steam rolling off of Dick in waves.

“He sliced my throat open with a batarang”

That got Dick’s attention, he spun around, eyes wide “w...What?”this was obviously the first time he was hearing about it.

Jason pointed to the scar angrily, glaring right into Dick’seyes.

“Instead of killing the Joker, he sliced my throat open witha batarang, any deeper and there would have been two outcomes, either I would’velost my voice, or I would be dead. Instead of kill the Joker, someone who hascaused millions of people pain, who has put more people in the ground then I caneven count, including myself. Who has tortured children and fucked Harley up inthe brain for the rest of her life, who got my own birth mother to betray me.Instead of ridding the earth of that scum! Bruce, or as you put him, ‘my dad’nearly made me a mute, or worse, nearly put me in the ground for a second time”

His voice was dangerously low, and he never allowed Dick tobreak eye contact.

“So the next time you say I’m ‘ignoring my problems’ Maybe think about the reasons behind that,because for me? Ignoring my problems during the day is the only semblance ofpeace I get, because every night the nightmares of every fucked up thing to happento me plague my mind and won’t let me fucking get five minutes of sleep”

A deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth,open his eyes again.

“Now ever shut the fuck up about your ‘family fixes everything’ spiel and sew my shoulder, or get the fuckout of my apartment”

He didn’t remember dozing off, or going to his bedroom, orcovering himself with his covers.

Anger always wore him out though, after so long, first thepit madness, then Bruce’s refusal that Jason was his own person and had his ownway of doing this.

He was probably so tired after his fight with Dick that his consciousnesslet his body go on auto drive.

It was derailed by the blue post it that stuck to hisbathroom mirror.

‘Get some rest littlebro, Steph’s already agreed to cover your section. Let that shoulder heal up”

Just great, his section would be in utter chaos soon enough.Whoever this Steph was wouldn’t know what to do, he was sure of it.

‘P.S; I’m going to be “talking”to Bruce about that scar, big bro’s got your back Jaybird. Love – Dickiebird”

Fuck.

He was going to miss the blood bath of the century allbecause he hadn’t made peace with his family yet. Way to drive a point homeDickiebird.

[alphacrone]

MAGIC TOWN SAMWELL AU

Based loosely on this older post of mine.

When the charm shop went in next door, Jack was wary. But plenty of his tomes still had the residue of charms and spells lingering in the dust between their pages, seeped into their cracked spines, and Jack managed well enough. Still, an entire store devoted to mood charms and luck potions – the idea of it alone made his skin itch.

When a sign went up above the cheerful, red awning declaring the shop “Peachy Keen,” Jack was skeptical. The name indicated to Jack that it was probably some gimmicky chain store, pretending to be quaint and local while really forcing out actual local businesses. But the sign itself looked genuinely hand-painted – it was either a very clever marketing tactic, or Jack was wrong in his assumptions.

When the shop’s owner came by to introduce himself, wearing a pastel pink button-down shirt and smiling like he’d just won the lottery, Jack knew he was utterly, totally fucked.

Jack and Bittle – “Eric Bittle but my friends call me Bitty oh is that cookbook I love old cookbooks my moomaw has a dozen-” – didn’t speak much after that initial introduction. Their respective shops kept them busy, and Jack tended not to go out with the other shopkeepers from the square when they had their weekly pub crawls. Bittle, from what Jack could tell, was bubbly and outgoing and almost as talkative as Shitty.

Jack was...not.

It had been maybe two or three weeks since Peachy Keen opened its doors when Jack came to work only to find a pie sitting on his stoop. It smelled heavenly, of nutmeg and cloves, apple and lemon, and seemed to still be piping hot. There was no note, but Samwell was a safe and friendly hamlet; Jack assumed it was from one of the older ladies who ran the butcher’s shop, or maybe even Shitty, learning to bake while baked. Jack was a little wary to eat anything that had seen the inside of Shitty’s apartment, but it smelled so good he couldn’t resist.

That turned out to be a huge mistake.

Thanks to some very creative hand gestures and the suspiciously intelligent crow who roosted in Jack’s chimney, Jack managed to get his medication before the bright purple welts on his arms and face got too horrific. A trip to the nearest urgent care center later, and Jack was perched behind the counter at Shitty’s nursery, Weeds n’ Things, glaring daggers at his laughing friend.

“Someone tried to poison you with pie?” Shitty asked incredulously. “Really? That’s your theory?”

Jack shrugged, feeling a little defensive. His father was a famous Necromancer, and while he had many fans, Bad Bob also had many enemies. It had been one of the numerous things that had plagued Jack’s anxiety as a child, knowing that there were people who wanted his father dead.

“Jack,” Shitty said, face softening. “I’m pretty sure that pie’s from Bits.”

“Who?” Jack frowned.

“Bitty?” Shitty sighed. “Bittle- you know, cute as shit, owns Peachy Keen. His whole schtick is charms and spells that aren’t disgusting – infused in desserts, snacks, drinks. Pie is, like, his forte, man.”

“Oh,” Jack said, feeling a mixture of relief, embarrassment, and irritation. “It’s sort of rude to just give someone an infused pie without telling them what it is.”

“Yeah, you got me there,” Shitty said, scratching at his jaw. “That doesn’t seem like Bits at all. Want me to talk to him about it?”

Jack thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t want to make him feel bad for almost killing me.”

Shitty laughed again and slapped Jack on the back. “You’re not that allergic, dude. But I gotta ask – how was the pie? What flavor was it?”

With a long-suffering sigh, Jack said, “Aside from the hives all over my skin, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” Shitty gave him a wide, knowing grin. “And apple. The pie was apple.”

“Hmm, good fortune,” Shitty said. “That’s usually what he puts in those.”

Jack snorted. “I guess from a certain perspective,” he said. “I was pretty damn fortunate.”

“That’s the spirit, brah,” Shitty said, nudging Jack with his elbow. “Now come help me water the herbs. Those babies have missed you.”

When Jack got home that evening, the chimney crow was waiting for him outside the shop. In its beak it held a small, torn note. Hesitantly, Jack reached out and took it. The crow gave him an appraising look and flew off, leaving Jack feeling very nervous as he unfolded the cheerful, yellow paper.

Everyone in the square’s tried a pie but you! Hope you like apple & fortune – it’s one of my best. See you around, neighbor :) - Bittle

Despite himself, Jack smiled. So Bittle had sent a note – and that damn chimney crow had nicked it. The grudge he’d been harboring towards the man lessened in intensity; the grudge he now bore for the crow doubled.

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t call an exterminator,” he called up at the roof where the crow’s nest hid. “I mean it.”

The crow did not respond, but Jack hadn’t really expected it to. He sighed and tucked the note into his pocket, ready to collapse face-first into his bed and sleep off the terrible day.

He wouldn’t remember how it happened in the morning, but the note was stuck to his refrigerator, right next to the ice maker. It stayed there for a long time.

It quickly became evident that, for the first time in his loud, obnoxious life, Shitty Knight had not intervened in Jack’s business.

Unfortunately, this meant another pie appeared on Jack’s stoop a week after his trip to the hospital.

The note taped to the tin was intact this time, written on light orange paper. Jack wondered idly how many colors of paper Bittle had in his shop, then realized he had never even seen the inside of Peachy Keen. The whole place could be covered in different shades of colored paper, and Jack wouldn’t have the faintest clue.

He was almost certain the air in that shop alone would be enough to break him out, which he definitely wanted to avoid in front of the cute baker.

Strawberries, cream, & focus, the note read. Mr. Crappy at the nursery buys a slice every time he needs to focus on paperwork. Of course, you don’t seem to need the help in that department! Hope you enjoy, and stop by soon! -ERB

Careful not to touch the crust, Jack picked up the pie and deposited it on the first flat surface in his store – the front counter. He didn’t want to just throw it out, but being near the thing, so chock full of pixie dust, was making Jack uneasy.

Though not all magic came from pixie dust, it was a large component in most Western spells, charms, and potions. It was potent, cheap to produce, and incredibly flexible in use.

And Jack Zimmermann was allergic to it.

Pixie dust allergies were not unheard of, but they were pretty rare. In his studies, Jack had found they occurred more frequently in East Asian and Southern African countries, where pixies were not native and their dust less commonly used. As a child he’d dreamt of running away to Antarctica, where it was too cold for pixies to survive, and he could live totally free from the fear of reaction with the penguins and the seals.

Jack sighed and glanced at the pie, tucking the note into his wallet so it wouldn’t get lost. He had a few minutes this morning before he needed to start his opening routine, so Jack grabbed the pie again and decided he'd take it over to Ransom and Holster, who ran the popular bar and grill, the Haus. They were also the leaders of Samwell’s very own werewolf pack, and therefore ate...a lot. As did their pack mates. The pie wouldn't last five minutes at their place.

Hesitation tugged at the back of Jack’s mind. It felt rude just getting rid of a pie specially made for Jack, but he certainly couldn't eat it. He needed to express gratitude somehow.

A small collection of antique cookbooks caught Jack’s eye. They weren't big sellers, not when Jack had colonial spellbooks and first edition grimoires on his shelves, but Bittle had noticed them right away that day he came in.

Shifting the pie to one hand, Jack grabbed one of the cookbooks with the other and slipped back out of the shop, not bothering to lock up behind him.

Ransom and Holster accepted the pie with as much gusto as Jack had expected.

(“Bro! How’d you get Bits to make you personal pie? That's dope!”

“I propose to him every other day or so, just so I can have that pie in my life forever. He thinks I'm kidding but I'm not.”)

Half of the pie was gone by the time he was back out of the door, and Jack breathed easier with its hauntingly delicious aroma far behind him. His anxiety spiked again as he remembered the book in his hand, and Jack scrambled to pull a piece of scrap paper – the back of a Jiffy Lube receipt – and scrawl out a quick note: Thanks for the pie. -JZ

Jack left the book and the note leaning up against the door of Peachy Keen and sped-walked away. He’d already diverted from his opening routine too much today; getting caught in conversation with Bittle was out of the question.

It wasn’t until he was back in his shop that Jack let himself breathe easy. He let out a deep sigh and began organizing the displays and cleaning up paperwork, readying himself for the day. Nursey, his assistant and one of the calmer members of Ransom and Holster’s pack, slipped behind the register with two minutes to spare, nose stuck in a well-worn book. Jack nodded at him in greeting, somehow still surprised when Nurse managed to nod back without taking his eyes off the page.

“I’ll take the register today,” Jack said as he flipped the sign in the window to say OPEN. “We got a restoration order in yesterday, seventeenth century French herbiary. Thought you’d like to take the reins on this one.”

Nursey looked up, surprised. “Really? By myself?”

Jack shrugged, shooing Nurse away from the register. “You’re one of the fastest learning conservators I’ve ever met. I have faith in you. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

“Chill,” Nursey said, face still blank with confusion, but a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be in the back.”

Jack grinned at Nursey’s retreating back, and steeled himself as the door opened. He wasn’t the best with customers – even Nurse, as laconic as he could be in conversation, had an ease and charm about him that enticed patrons of the shop – but Jack could answer questions and handle the register as well as any awkward teenager working their first job.

Around noon, just as Jack’s stomach began to rumble, he was pulled away from the counter by a customer who couldn’t reach the twentieth-century wizard’s almanacs. (Why anyone in Massachusetts needed a 1957 almanac for Prince Edward Island was a mystery to him, but, hey, it paid the bills.)

When Jack returned to the register, a pie was sitting on the counter, still steaming. There was a hot pink note attached to this one, but no sign of Bittle.

Found your gift this morning and HAD to put one of the recipes to use! Buttermilk pie with Comfort. Glad you liked the last one. <3 ERB

Jack sighed, heart fluttering uncomfortably in his chest. This feeling was like anxiety, gnawing at his diaphragm like acid, but something in it made his limbs and heart light. Bittle loved his gift. He loved it so much that he used it immediately...and had given Jack another pie he couldn’t possibly eat.

“Where’s Nurse?”

Jack looked up from the pie to see Dex and Chowder, Nursey’s friends and packmates. Dex was the Haus’ handyman and least flirty bartender; Chowder, however, had left his job at the butcher’s shop to apprentice at Peachy Keen. From what Jack had heard, Bittle adored Chowder. Something a little too close to jealousy stirred in Jack at that thought, so he tamped it down and gestured at the pie.

“He’s restoring. You two want pie?”

“Is that one of Bitty’s?” Dex asked, eyeing it carefully. Jack snatched the note away from the tin before either man could read it, stuffing it into the pages of his ledger.

“Yeah. He dropped it off while I was in the back,” Jack said. “You two want it?”

“Chyeah we want it,” Nursey said, coming up behind Jack. His reading glasses were dangerously low on his nose and his hair was tousled, but he seemed in high spirits. Jack assumed the restoration was going well. “Takin’ my lunch break, boss. Bitty Pie Lunch is the best lunch.”

Jack scowled. “Try to eat something with a bit more protein,” he said sternly. “You’ll crash by three if you just eat sugar.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Z,” Nurse said, waving him off. “Be back in thirty.”

“I can’t believe you call him Mr. Z,” Dex scolded as they walked away. “He’s a Zimmermann, don’t you think you should be a little politer?”

Chowder was clearly, willfully ignoring the fight that was about to erupt. “Guys, I can’t believe we get free Bitty Pie! I don’t even get that and I work for him!”

Jack knew his face was flushing horribly as the boys left the shop, but he schooled his features as he put up the BACK AT 1 sign in the window and grabbed his lunch – and another cookbook – and all but ran to Weeds n’ Things.

“Two pies in a day? Jacques,” Shitty said as they ate their lunches among the perennials. “Go into that shop and talk to that man. You know how many pies he’s made me? One. To introduce himself. And he made me share it with the Taddies.” Shitty jerked his head at the couple of kids he’d hired after Ollie and Wicks left the nursery to open their own store. “He clearly wants to get to know you, which is not easy seeing as you’ve decided to be the token hermit of Samwell.”

Jack ducked his head, concentrating on his sandwich. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to get to know Bittle, but he knew stepping foot in Peachy Keen was out of the question. “I hate Ransom and Holster’s pub crawl nights, though.”

Shitty patted him on the back. “I know, bud. But Bits is, like, the most outgoing person I know. You’ll be able to talk with him as long as you try to leave your cave every once and awhile.”

“If you say so,” Jack mumbled into his PB&J. “Is he always so cheerful? He seems really...chipper.”

“Chipper?” Shitty snorted. “We’re in America, speak American, Jack.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t understand you, your accent is so foreign to my sensitive, Canadian ears.”

Shitty snorted again and elbowed Jack in the ribs. “See? When you hide away from the world, I’m the only one who gets to see how funny you are. And, to answer your questions, yes, Bits is the chipper-est person I’ve ever met. He’s, like, the opposite of you,” he added with a teasing grin. “He’s great, really, I think you guys’d really get on.”

Jack nodded, getting lost in memories of Bittle smiling and waving at him across the square as they went about their days. He seemed so bright, so sunny, that Jack always wondered what kind of glamours he used, or if the way he shone was all in Jack’s imagination.

“I’m gonna ask Chowder to drop off this book for him, after lunch,” he said eventually, patting the cookbook by his lunch sack. Shitty beamed at him, (probably) unaware of the spinach stuck to his mustache.

“You beautiful fucker,” Shitty sound through a mouthful of salad. “Wooing Bitty Bits with books. You guys are gonna get married and have twelve thousand sparkly nerd babies. I love it.”

“Shut up,” Jack muttered with no real heat. “He likes cookbooks.”

“So cute,” Shitty said, batting his eyelashes. “Mushy cute. I’m gonna ralph.”

“So Lardo’s been hanging around a lot,” Jack said casually, taking a bite of sandwich. “That’s interesting.”

“She needs herbs for the apothecary,” Shitty said, a little too defensively. “Apparently it’s salve season.”

Jack grinned. “Sure, Shits.”

“Oh, shut up, you big book wooer,” Shitty grumbled. Jack laughed so loud that the Taddies all jumped, and the one named Tango tripped over a flower pot.

Jack returned to his shop that afternoon in higher spirits and with one less cookbook in his inventory.

Jack and Bitty traded pies and books for almost a week without actually speaking in person. Jack could never manage to catch Bitty outside of Peachy Keen, and the chimney crow was always making a ruckus in the back whenever Bitty dropped by the bookshop. Nurse thought it was all too amusing, and had started calling the bird Johnson, just because “it suits him, man.”

“It’s because Johnson is a euphemism for dick,” Lardo said when Jack told her. “‘Cause that bird sounds like a fucking dick.”

“Okay,” had been Jack’s only response, because, really, what was he supposed to say to that?

It was Friday evening when Jack was just locking up the store that he finally got his chance to speak with Bittle. As he headed down the steps to the sidewalk, a bright, cheerful voice called his name. “Jack!” Bittle jogged down the sidewalk, waving with one hand, carrying a pie in the other. “So glad I caught you! I was gonna stop by earlier but we were packed all day, then this disoriented crow flew smack dab into the window of the shop and I had to rush the poor critter to the Falconer’s Lodge – I know he’s not a falcon but I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be able to heal a bird! So George – have you met Georgia Martin? She’s delightful! – George managed to patch the silly old thing up in no time, and then the thing just flew off! So I had to run back to the shop – poor Chowder had to close up himself, I felt so bad – and grab this pie to thank you for the last book you sent! I’ve really been so interested in incorporating more herbs in my baking, they have such wonderful properties that come out in cooking, but I’ve never had time to study them! Anyway, sorry for rambling, I’m just so glad I caught you – and in person this time! I hope you like key lime and cheer.”

Bittle all but shoved the pie into Jack’s hands, and he took it hesitantly, careful not to touch the crust, just in case. Brow furrowing, Bittle seemed to notice Jack’s caution.

“Do you not like key lime?” He asked, wringing his hands together. “Oh, goodness, you don’t, I should’ve gone with pecan, I just couldn’t decide-”

“Bittle,” Jack said softly, cutting him off. “I...I really appreciate all the pies, but. But, I can’t eat them.”

“Why?” Bittle asked, tilting his head. “Are you on some sort of diet? Are you gluten free?” He gasped. “I should've asked if you had celiac or were lactose intolerant or-”

“It’s the pixie dust,” Jack said, feeling his cheeks burn against his will. “I’m allergic.”

Bittle’s eyes widened. “You’re...allergic to pixie dust?”

“Yes.”

“But your dad is Bad Bob-”

“I’m aware.”

“Wow.” Bittle carefully took the pie out of Jack’s hands, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Gosh, Jack, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you could eat these- oh! Please tell me they haven’t affected you!”

Jack knew his face was probably bright red, but he soldiered on. “I, uh. Did have to go to urgent care after the first one. It was delicious,” he added, scratching the back of his neck. “But, uh…”

“Oh, my Lord!” Bitty shrieked, dropping the pie to cover his mouth. “Oh, Jack, oh, gosh- Let me pay your medical bills- I can help out at your shop, too, I’m real handy with cleaning without any pixie dust, I promise-”

“Bittle,” Jack interrupted, holding up his hands. “It’s okay. I have insurance, the urgent care bill isn’t going to force me into debt, I promise. It’s not the first time this has happened nor will it be the last.”

Jack was stunned to see tear – actual tears – in Bittle’s eyes. “Jack, I could’ve killed you.”

“It’s okay-” Bitte scoffed, wiping at his eyes. “No, seriously, I’m not deathly allergic, I promise. And do you know how hard it is to navigate life in America when you’re allergic to pixie dust? I had so many incidents growing up my mother seriously considered putting me in a bubble.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” Bitty insisted, wrapping his arms around himself. “I just wanted to talk to you so bad, but you seemed so cool and standoffish-”

Jack snorted, against his better judgement. “You are the only person who thinks I’m cool.”

“Please let me make it up to you,” Bitty pleaded. “I’ll clean your shop, wash your car, anything-”

“You wanna get dinner?” Jack asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I know a great, little Thai place. No pixie dust,” he joked, nudging Bitty’s arm with his elbow.

Bittle sniffed, but gave Jack a small smile. “Okay, but it’s my treat.”

“Sure, Bittle,” Jack said. “This time.”

Bittle pursed his lips but took Jack’s proffered arm, leaning in to Jack’s space to chat as they wandered down the street. Behind them, a suspiciously intelligent, happily meddlesome crow pecked at the remains of the pie that were splattered across the sidewalk.  

Monday morning, Jack arrived at his shop to find another pie sitting on the stoop. The note on top was robin’s egg blue and read: Sterilized my kitchen. Bought all new utensils. There is not a speck of pixie dust in this pie. I hope you enjoy blackberry, Mr. Zimmermann.

Jack smiled to himself and picked up the pie, breathing in its scent.  Even without pixie dust, everything about it smelled magical.

Careful not to drop it, Jack unlocked the door with his free hand and shouldered his way into the store. He went straight back to his small, personal office and stowed the pie inside. This was one treat he would not be sharing.

[theotherscarmanthewoman]

Series 1 Review

Forty-three episodes later, Series 1 (Season 1?) is done and dusted. Before launching into Series 2 tomorrow with Planet of Giants, I thought it might be fun to do a little review of the story so far...

General Thoughts

Overall, I’ve been pleasantly surprised. I’d seen most of these serials as a kid, though never in the right order, and watching them from beginning to end has given me a newfound appreciation for just how much excellent character development there is in the early years of the show. I have also become a diehard Barbara fan. Obv. 

From a feminist perspective, there’s been a lot to like, though there have been a few major issues for me. As far as the series regulars go, Barbara gets to do a fair amount of physically, emotionally, and verbally badass things whilst remaining a well-rounded character: she’s clever, compassionate, occasionally morbid, brave, pragmatic, imaginative, resourceful, and deeply flawed in an entirely non-gendered way *cough*AZTECS*cough*. However, she also nearly gets raped in The Snows of Terror, has men draw lots over who gets to murder her in Marco Polo (only to be victim blamed by the eponymous dickhead of the serial), and is often a victim of the well-meaning but mostly stifling paternalism of Ian Chesterton (though she does at least get to complain about it). 

Susan is more problematic, as she very rarely gets a chance to shine, and suffers greatly at the hands of writers who just don’t know what to do with her. All too often, she’s reduced to a plot device, which I suppose is how she started out, after all: she was a means of getting the humans onto the Tardis and introducing us to the Doctor. And while she had genuine and gorgeous character development in Marco Polo and The Sensorites (the latter in the face of serious patriarchal bullshit from the Doctor), she ended the first series as a means of getting/keeping other characters in and out of jail whenever it was narratively convenient for her to have a mystery headache. JUSTICE FOR SUSAN! There are also way too many episodes that fail the Bechdel test for a series that has two women in the recurring cast.

Favourite Serials

I am the kind of person who panics when there are more than five options on a menu, so obviously I cannot restrict myself to a single favourite serial. With this in mind, and with the proviso that none of these are entirely unproblematic, here are my top three (in no particular order):

The Daleks I love this serial for so many reasons: Barbara getting her shit together after the whole caveman debacle/having been given a serious fright by a Dalek for the first time in Whovian history, donning a pair of hexagon trousers, and going on to display her infinite capacity for badassery (see exhibits A, B, and C); Space Corbyn; the Daleks being established as Space Nazis; the birth of Team Tardis; hexagons; Barbara and Ian fighting (which I always enjoy); the Doctor giving Barbara hope in the first of many classic chats; and of course Barbara deciding that yes she will kiss that alien, thank you very much.

The Edge of Destruction This is so ambitious and weird and wonderful, and of course contains that epic Barbara Wright verbal smackdown. The Tardis is alive and speaks in melty clocks and photographs (setting in motion a Tardis character arc without which The Doctor’s Wife would not have been possible), Susan is possessed and scissor-happy, Ian is in a ludicrously short dressing-gown, the Doctor learns to cherish his humans, the Doctor  gets crazy excited talking about the birth of solar system, the humanities save the day, and everyone learns about each other and therefore about themselves. Just don’t ask me whether it makes any actual sense.

The Aztecs Problematic as all hell, but so very, very interesting. Barbara’s hubris, Susan’s continued arranged marriage issues post-Ping-Cho, the Doctor and Barbara bonding over history and time travel and ethics, Space Bro antics, badassery, ruined lives (Autloc! Cameca!), and life-long lessons learned. A meaty historical with repercussions for the whole of Doctor Who.

An honourable mention must also go to Marco Polo, which drove me absolutely crazy at times (because it’s missing, because yellowface, because Marco being the actual worst and causing me to go on my first sustained rant about rape culture in Classic Who), because in it we got a glimpse of Susan’s potential as a character. Which got shat on from a great height in The Reign of Terror. 

Bring That Side Character Aboard the Tardis

Ping-Cho PRECIOUS CINNAMON GOLDFISH YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH SUSAN AND YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SPACE (GIRL)FRIENDS FOREVER.

Ganatus His brother is dead, many of his friends are dead, and his planet is mostly fucked. Get that Thal aboard the Tardis so Barbara can show him just how much she doesn’t always do what Ian says; a whirlwind space romance would do them both a power of good. 

Character Development

The Doctor has had quite the journey, from the selfish goblin we met in a junkyard in 1963 who was quite happy to brain a caveman with a rock (and leave Barbara to die of radiation poisoning on Skaro) to the selfish goblin we met on a road in eighteenth-century France who was quite happy to brain a man with a shovel (on his quest to save his friends from the guillotine). The quality of his selfishness has been transformed because he now cares for two humans who have grown to care about him. He’s learned some manners, he’s learned about two other people, and he’s learning about himself.

Susan. Poor, poor Susan. She had such potential to be an interesting character, but alas she was served shoddily by writers who didn’t know what to do with her. She got to talk about home and what it means to be a wanderer in Marco Polo and The Sensorites, and she even got to stretch her telepathic legs in the latter, but alas her character development has suffered throughout the series. The one consistent thread for Susan is her increasing attachment to her human Space Parents, and her ongoing issues with saying goodbye. I have so many questions about Susan, but unfortunately none of the writers could be arsed to answer them.

I worry about Ian, actually, because he seems to have become desensitised to violence in a way that surely can’t be healthy for him. He also seems increasingly unable to function when he’s not being called upon to be Action Man (or indeed welded to the side of Barbara Wright). The weirdest example of this is when he thought all his friends were dead and he was stranded in eighteenth-century France, so he decided to become a spy for the counterrevolution just for something to do. At the beginning of the series, I disliked Ian enormously for his patronising paternalism; I don’t dislike him any more, but as I say, I worry about what’s going to happen to him when he finally makes it home and he has to function on an everyday level again without the psychological crutches of ‘I must kill the bad guys’ and ‘I must find/protect Barbara’. I also worry about his change of attitude from ‘I’m not going to do this because it’s wrong’ to ‘I’m going to do whatever it takes to get everyone out of this mess alive and I’m going to decide that whatever this involves is morally right’. And I think the turning point for that might well have been on Skaro where he managed to convince himself that asking the Thals to sacrifice themselves for the greater good was morally the right thing to do if he could find a way of thinking about it as helping the Thals to help themselves. I do love his Space Bro relationship with the Doctor, though. And his ongoing leftie streak.

Oh Babs. She’s really developed over the series, and what is excellent about seeing it in order is that it becomes clear that the Barbara we met in An Unearthly Child was Barbara on a (really) bad day. And yes, she went into hysterics over a dead pig. But very soon this self-professed unwilling adventurer was getting stuck in: no sooner had she recovered from a nasty bout of radiation sickness in a Dalek cell on Skaro than she was busy making mud pies to take out those malevolent pepper pots, embracing the local fashions, flirting with the locals, and taking on Daleks with rocks and a can-do attitude. She adapts to the situation time after time, and learns about time-travel and history the hard way, bonding with the Doctor and caring for her fellow travellers; if The Edge of Destruction is the Doctor’s turning point, The Aztecs is hers. But we also see that being surrounded by death is beginning to take its toll, as well as a nihilistic sense of the absurd that comes of having truly absorbed the lesson that you can’t rewrite history. Fortunately for Babs, the Doctor is actually there for her at these times, as we’ve seen from their ongoing time-travel chats. I think the biggest surprise of the series for me has been the relationship between the Doctor and Barbara, actually; they’re teaching one another to be better time travellers.

A note on shipping

I have deliberately shied away from overtly shipping Barbara and Ian in the recaps (though I’ve been less successful elsewhere), not because I don’t believe with every fibre of my being that they absolutely ended up getting hitched when they got back to Earth, but because frankly it’s more interesting when they fight than when they’re being cute. Also I’m saving a post on the many aspects of their relationship for after The Chase, as I feel like that will help me deal with my Feelings after they leave the show.

BRING ON SERIES 2!