#I feel like this would get more traction around Christmas but oh well ��

[lyxthen]

Shichishito | The Seven-Branched Sword

It is said that this sacred sword represents life itself. Though the branches may appear to be infinite, the choices limitless...

...Like our destinies, the sword comes to but one end. One merciless point. And when the silver cord, the fragile thread that binds us to this world, is severed...

...The illusion is revealed and the implacability of fate is finally laid bare.

[thegreatstoryteller]

Seasonal Brews: Lights

Nick was more than happy to be open again for the season. Sometimes it could be quite the hurdle gaining the traction to whip enough magic for the season. But here he was once again. In another small town, bringing warm drinks and good company to a few lucky patrons happy to walk his way.

As everyone knows, it’s that time of year where magic is in the cold winter air, and the power of a good drink can really turn the life around for some lucky individuals.

The door opened beginning to jingle the bells marking the entrance of a new guest!

“Welcome to Seasonal Brews! How can I help y- woah! You uh…. Ok there?” Nick gasped at the young man covered in pine needles.

“Oh hi… yeah I’m fine… it’s nice and warm in here thanks. Just gonna browse your menu real quick! Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” The bespectacled young man said. His slim frame and pale skin lead Nick to believe he was sick for a moment, but his eager stride around the store would suggest otherwise. His dirty brown hair also had needles beginning to poke out of it haphazardly.

“Of course take all the time you need. Um… what was it exactly you were doing before to get…. All of this?” Nick gestures wildly around him as the young man blushes.

“Ah. Is it that noticeable? Sorry.” He says shaking his head knocking more and more needles to the ground. “My brother and I typically help people in the community with their Christmas trees this year! It’s kinda a nice tradition our family liked to do. My dad used to own a pine tree acre that grows these every year. We had to sell it awhile ago, but my brother and I still volunteer there! In fact… that’s kinda why I’m here! I was hoping to get a few drinks for me, my brother and some of the people we’re helping with their trees! I know it’s a lot to ask… sorry.”

Nick was surprised. He didn’t know what to make of this novel request, but he had the feeling he could help.

“Of course! I’d be happy to make you some. How many drinks are we talking here? And is there anything you’re in the mood for?” Nick offered, already in the process of making some of the drinks.

“Let’s see,  well we only have 3 more deliveries to make. So I guess 1 for each of them and my brother. Something strong for each of them to get them through the day. They’ll need the energy.” The young man offered. 

Nick smiled. “And don’t forget one for you! I’m picturing.... something sweet! What name should I put on your cup by the way?”

“Right! Sorry. It’s Noel. Nice to meet you.... Nick.” Noel said reading the drink maker’s name tag.

“It’s nice to meet such a kind heart today Noel. And there you go. Drinks are hot and ready, I’m sure everyone will love them. I brought an assortment so I hope you enjoy. The names of the drinks are on the cups, so distribute as needed.”

“Already? That was... well fast! Thank you Nick! How much do I owe you?” Noel offered.

“Consider this a gift for all the good you’re doing around town. Maybe next year I’ll need a tree or your help.” Nick joked.

“That’s awfully kind of you sir. Merry Christmas!” Noel pulled out some money and left it in the tip jar, much to Nick’s surprise.

“The pleasure is all mine. Stay warm out there” Nick said as Noel exited the establishment.

Outside Noel’s older brother was there waiting. “Thanks for getting the drinks Noel! I’ll drink just about anything after the day we’ve had.”

“No problem Hector. Here you go! This is a... dark chocolate mocha, with a peppermint twist. Hope you like it, the guy said he got some strong drinks for us.” Noel explained handing over the warm cup of coffee. 

Hector gave his little brother a hug an wiped his longish brown hair from his brow before taking a deep sip. The young man wasn’t all that bigger than Noel, but he was more leanly muscled, a skill essential for hauling trees much larger than his size with the right skill. However as he took a sip those lean muscles expanded, lengthening and hardening as a cool breeze blew through the street. Noel closed his eyes not noticing the fresh powder now around the city making it looks clean and picturesque, as his brother’s red shirt and cap turned into a more Santa themed attire.

Hector’s beard began to grow in as abs popped under his jacket that now opened up revealing a powerfully built chest. And a deep voiced laugh emitted from the slightly older man. “It’s beginning to look a little more like Christmas now.” Hector said in a smooth baritone admiring the freshly fallen snow. “We better get to our first stop before it starts coming down faster. Let’s go.” Hector patted the side of his truck not seeing the changes spread down faster over it as its fading red color reinvigorated, but turned to wood. The entire body of the vehicle looking more sled and sleigh shaped until there was nothing more than a modern snow faring sleigh before them!

Noel rubbed his eyes as his brother’s appearance made him do a double take. Did he always look so big? And show off his abs this much? Didn’t they ride here in an old truck not some sleigh pulled by reindeers? Who’s to say, but Hector was right. The last thing they wanted was to get stuck in the snow. So the two hopped in and the reindeer pulled their sleigh to the first stop. 

“Alright first on our list is Mr. Baston Chan. I’ll go grab the tree from the back, you can ring his doorbell and offer him his drink Noel.” Hector explained hopping out back and grabbing the large tree with ease. Noel happily agreed and jumped out into the thickening snow and walked down the long path to a modest single story house. With a ring and a knock he called, “Mr. Chan? It’s Noel and Hector with you’re tree! Care for a warm drink?”

An older Asian looking man opened the door slowly with a jolly smile. “Thank you boys for coming each year to help me out. You’re so kind.”

“We’re happy to do it Mr. Chan. Plus here’s a drink. The snow is really coming in these days this one is... a Red Bean Cappuccino?” Noel said reading the label.

“That is one creative mix. I am a fan of red bean after all, how’d you know. Thank you!” Baston Chan said ruffling Noel’s hair as they shared a smile. Noel went to help Hector with the tree, not that he needed it, but he still wanted to help. So the young man didn’t see Mr. Chan beginning to change right behind him. His skin tightened into a more youthful flow as his old tattered robe fell limply to the ground revealing a healthy athletic frame! Years of labor and effort now recalling itself to an aging body now once again filled with the vitality it once knew!

“You boys really brighten my day. It wouldn’t be Christmas without seeing your good deeds all around the neighborhood! If you ever want to come by my gym again we can do some post holiday lifting!” Baston flexed confidently out his door as Hector stood the tree right next to his porch. 

Noel laughed nervously knowing Baston Chan’s vigorous workout routine, while Hector followed along. “We’ll try Mr. Chan, but Noel and I here will have to take a break every now and then to keep up with you. Merry Christmas!” The two waved off as Hector sighed. “Wow that man is in such good shape for his age. Who is next?”

“Ms. Mary and Ms. Christine!” Noel chimed in. He loved the two older women who would make him and his brother cookies as kids. So when they arrived to their larger house, which acted also as an art studio he was eager to see them with hearty knock.

A shorter grandmother type greeted him at the door. “If it isn’t little Noel! You’re so big now it’s wonderful to see you. And your brother, strong as ever lifting those trees! In the living room Hector! There’s also some cookies waiting for you boys inside!” Ms. Mary a curly haired older black woman said, directing the two brothers inside. There on a reclining chair was Ms. Christine, a larger blond woman equal to Mary in age.

“Thanks Ms. Mary! We also brought you some drinks! this one is... a hot Alpine Apple Cider and this one is a large hot chocolate with silver sprinkles.” Ms. Marry took the cider while handing Christine the hot chocolate.

“You boys are stars tonight! Have as many cookies as you like! I made them myself!” Christine said proudly. 

The two boys began to munch on the delicious gingerbread cookies while the two women cheers and drank their drinks. Ms. Mary was the first to drink her drink. Her skin grew lighter in color, letting the cider fill her form. She grew taller and leaner, as her long curly hair receded into a shorter style while recoloring to blond! All the while Ms. Christine began to plump up even further gaining a larger bulbous belly that darkened with each sip. A salt and pepper beard grew over her face as the two of them took on more manly features! Soon Chris’ red jumper, popped open! revealing some darker moobs and a healthy gut, prompting a laugh from Mark who had discarded his shirt to sidle up next to his husband by the fire. Soon there was now a spry professional sledder and a larger black man cuddling lovingly together.

“Thanks for helping set up the trees boys,” Mark said. “And for finishing off those cookies. Santa here is getting a little too greedy before Christmas.” The handsome blond man said rubbing Chris’ large black gut.

“None sense. It’s Christmas! We get to relax a bit. But you boys can come by anytime for more if you like. Once our kids are back visiting their friends I’m sure Mark can take you all sledding like old times.” Chris offered warmly.

“That would be great Mr. Chris. And thank you Mr. Mark!  Your hospitality and cookies are always top notch!” Noel said with a mouthful of treats.

“Now come on Noel, let’s leave these two be for now. We’ve got one more delivery!” Hector said pulling his brother who was waving vigorously goodbye.

“Gosh I love visiting them! We gotta visit more often. Anyway we have only one left and it’s... oh wow it’s Ansel! Can I uh... you know... do this one myself?” Noel asked blushing.

“Of course lil bro. He’s all yours.” Hector smirked as they stopped outside a nice two story family like house with lots of noise inside. Noel did his best to drag the tree to the door and knocked. Opening it was a handsome young man back from college this year. “Noel! You made it! With the tree too! Come inside! We were just setting up lights in here.” Ansel explained. The handsome young man’s athletic proportions causing young Noel to blush.

“T-thanks! I’d love to... oh and i Uh... got you this drink! We’ve been delivering them to people with the trees all night.” Noel offered.

“Noel! That’s really sweet. But! Did you reemember to get yourself something too? I see only one drink left. And I think it should go to the guy who’s been busting his butt trying to bring people holiday cheer. So why don’t you have it? Ok?” Ansel offered.

Noel didn’t know what to say but simply nodded and drank it without even reading the label. He was filled with warmth. A warmth he attributed being so close to his crush, but also one that was causing his paler skin to tan and his hair to shorten and darken. His jacket was getting tight so he removed it to reveal a straining polo that his larger biceps were threatening to tear! All the while Noel felt his vantage point lift up and up as he walked with Ansel through his house! Right until he saw a room covered in Christmas lights. 

“Looks nice doesn’t it?” Ansel said looking up at Noel through the lights.

“It... it does! I like it a lot. And.. well... you... i mean I... ahha what was I saying?” Noel boomed with his new low voice sounding like a jock mumbling commands across a field. 

“Well... I think you were saying you liked the decorations. Especially the mistle toe I put over here. You know holiday traditions and all? I think I want to stay true to this one at least.” Ansel said leaning up to kiss Noel as the two embraced.

Outside Hector finished setting up the tree and smiled proudly at his brother. He knocked on the window and gave Noel a thumbs up prompting the two to stop the kissing and back away blushing.

“Sorry about Hector... he’s just kidding around a lot... but i liked that a lot... and I like you... so... maybe after the holidays... you and I could grab a coffee or something?” Noel asked blushing.

“I’d love that. Have any place in mind?” 

Noel looked down at the cup in his hand and smiled. 

[infinitesimaldna]

The Giving Season

It was the annual gift exchange for the friend group, but something was up. Janus could tell.

And no, it didn't have to do with his feelings towards the other two in the room, that'd be ridiculous.

What was going down this holiday season?

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Ao3 Link

(Not currently posted but I'll edit it when Ao3 comes back online)

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Tw: Mention of sex (just Remus being Remus, not graphic whatsoever)

Ships: Intruloceit, background Prinxiety

Word Count: 3,456

Notes: This is my gift in the @sanderssidesgiftxchange for @edupunkn00b! I had a super fun time making it, and I really hope you enjoy <3

Also, all the love to my beta, @quillienvii. They were with me through every step of this journey, and I cannot be more thankful for them

Without further ado, fic under the cut!

The get-together was meant to start 20 minutes ago, which meant everything was going according to plan. 

Currently, the only ones present were Logan, Janus, and Remus. Logan had been there at exactly noon, Janus dragging Remus through the door a few minutes later. The gathering was taking place at Patton’s, so he should be here currently, but he had gone out to pick up Roman after he apparently had been having issues with his car. Since Roman had also intended to pick Virgil up and bring him to the festivities, that meant they were also short one emo until Patton made his way back with the other two in tow. 

Either way, Janus was getting impatient. That also meant if he was starting to feel impatient, Remus was practically jumping from anticipation already. Logan was probably doing fine, he always plotted extra time in their hangouts for the purposes of one or more of them being late. And he was always less uptight around the holidays.

Janus really enjoyed the season for that reason.

That, and how Remus would share the same facts every year without fail. Like right now.

“Did you guys know that in Belgium, Santa has a cannibal manservant slave that eats the bad children for him instead of just giving them coal?”

“Oh good, Remus is already starting the facts. I can cross that one off my bingo card.”  Janus hadn’t actually made a bingo card, but it was certainly an idea for next year.

“Shame. I had his fact about people breaking into noble’s houses while caroling on my own.” Logan’s comment was accompanied by a look sent his way, just a hint of a smile there, one that made his own face attempt to betray him and give a genuine smile back. He was able to work it down to a smirk, and thankfully Logan didn’t seem to notice. 

“If you guys are gonna keep teaming up on me, I’m just gonna go outside and strip in the snow.”

“No! I mean,” Logan took his glasses off, wiping them on the edge of his shirt before replacing them on his nose. “We can desist, Remus. There’s no need for our gathering to end up taking place in a police station holding cell.”

“Well, we gotta find something to do. Everyone else is taking so long, and I don’t know why.”

“If I recall, Roman is late because his car tire was punctured.” Janus punctuated his own addition to the conversation with a sip from his eggnog. “Weren’t you just saying to me yesterday that you punctured his wheel before you left for my place? And that’s why you needed to stay the night, to lay low until he calmed down?”

“I bought him a new pair of wheels for Christmas! It’s not like he didn’t need them, the old ones were losing their traction. I just…”

“Forgot he would need the car to get here for you to give him his gift?” The judgment was palpable in Logan’s voice, and Janus would be lying if he said he didn’t get some enjoyment out of it. How did he manage to fall for both the smartest and dumbest members of their group?

Not that either of the party’s present currently knew of his feelings. No, there was no need for that. His little crushes would pass soon enough, and the group dynamic would go back to normal. One couple in their friend group was already enough, and polyamory was complicated. Both Logan and Remus did tend to want to keep things rather simplistic, in their own ways. It was better if they stayed separate.

“Janie, back me up here!” The nasally call of Remus pulled him out of his thoughts, but he was quick to recover. 

“I wasn’t listening, and I’m sure you’re wrong anyway.” 

Remus huffed, jumping back to curl up on the couch, legs pulled up and arms crossed against his chest. “I get no respect around here.”

“You would be upset if either of us ever claimed to respect you unconditionally.” Logan’s claim seemed to bring Remus right back out of his pretend pouty episode, as he was shooting up from the couch a second later. 

“You’re right there, Nerdy Wolverine! Now come on, surely, we don’t have to wait for the others. We can just, start, you know? I’m sure no one’s thaaaaat interested in what we all got each other, I know Roman just cares about Virgil’s reaction to whatever he got him.”

Janus rolled his eyes, all too happy to let Logan take this one. It was always a team effort in managing their friend.

“I… suppose there’s not too much of an issue with that. So long as everyone here acquiesced and we got confirmation from the other’s before opening anything.”

See, now Janus was puzzled. Logan, willingly going against the schedule, agreeing with Remus in one of his ideas? And not just in some theoretical debate the two commonly had over body decomposition and the like. No, this was just going along with one of Remus’ tamer ideas. What was Logan up to?

“Perfect! I’ll text Robro and let him know.” Remus was typing and practically had the text typed before Logan could even remind him to ask, not tell. Well, this was the chaos Janus had signed up for when he hadn’t fallen for one moron and one genius who was always a little too indulgent. 

It didn’t take long for the three of them to get settled around the living area, their usual spots working well. Logan was on the far right of the couch, Remus leaning against that same arm, and Janus in the armchair closest to Logan’s seat. The other half of the couch and the loveseat were left empty, but the space felt filled enough, especially with the presents located next to each person. Plenty more were still in their place beneath the tree, but these were the only important ones right now.

“Well, I propose Remus starts, as I’m surprised he even managed to go this long without blurting out what he got each of us.” Logan’s suggestion was probably smart. The ratman was already bouncing on his heels, his body rocking back and forth as small giggles emerged from his crooked smile. The fact that his mouth was still shut was astounding. 

“Oh goody!” Within seconds, Janus had a larger wrapped box in his lap, and a quick glance told him Logan had received a similar package, albeit with different wrapping. Logan’s had little test tubes, although there did seem to be some hand-drawn explosions surrounding the chemistry equipment. Janus’ own paper had snakes all over it, but the one right next to the tag had a hat very similar to Janus’ own drawn atop its head. 

He would have to open this carefully to keep from ripping that particular scrap of paper. It definitely wouldn’t be making its way into his secret scrapbook collection that none of the others knew about.

“Open ‘em, open ‘em!” Janus didn’t fight the smile so much this time, if only because his gaze was down towards his gift. And… oh. 

“Remus, what is this?” The paper wasn’t fully removed, but he had peeled the edge enough to get a glimpse and he wasn’t sure about what he saw. At least, he shouldn’t be seeing this, if his previous statement was correct.

“I found your hidden scrapbook supplies! I didn’t look through any of the albums you’ve made, but I figured you could always use more stuff. Plus, it didn’t like you had a pair of crafting scissors in there, and those things are crazy sharp and good for stabbing things. I figured you could use a pair.”

“But how did you—”

“Jan, I’ve stayed the night at your house how many times? Me digging through your cabinets had to be something you expected.” 

Well, it definitely wasn’t out of character, but still. He was known among all of them as being the best with secrets. For Remus to know… 

“I suppose it isn’t the worst thing in the world.” Janus’ words triggered a small stim noise from Remus, the smallest sound before he rounded onto Logan, fully turning around and almost hitting the coffee table in his effort to face the other.

“And Logan? Whatcha think?”

Logan’s gift was smaller from what Janus could see, but that wasn’t much from the way it was carefully cupped in the nerd’s hands. 

“Is this a tie pin?”

“Yup! I figured you could use a new one, your old one was starting to rust a little bit.”

“And it’s shaped like a tiny tie.”

“Uh huh! That way you can be a nerd squared. Double ties!”

It was silent for a minute, Janus holding back his own comments as he examined Logan’s face. His own opinion on the quality of the gift was inconsequential until Logan’s reaction could be judged. And he had always been hard to read. 

The next noise to fill the space was a small chuckle, the volume of which slowly rose as Logan lifted his head. “It is an adequate gift, Remus. Thank you.”

“Aw, no problem! All I ask for in return is that my own gift is a pet squid.”

“You do not have the space at your and Roman’s townhouse to accommodate such an animal.”

“Life finds a way.”

“No, we are not having another discussion on Jurassic Park, at least not while I’m the only one who has to suffer through it.” Janus took a moment to mourn the fact that his eggnog cup was empty, and that the alcohol content was not nearly as high as he would appreciate. 

It was only 12:30 but it was never too early to be drinking if Remus and Logan were discussing their theories again. 

“Well then, I suppose it’s your turn to pass out gifts?” Again, Janus was left off-put by Logan’s contribution. He normally insisted (or at least suggested) they go clockwise when moving around the circle for their gift exchange; here he was suggesting the opposite. Still, Janus would avoid voicing his notice of the suspicious behavior until after the gift exchange, hopefully when Remus was being distracted bothering someone else.

There was little fanfare to the way Janus took the gifts from his side, passing Logan his while throwing Remus’ down towards him, fairly certain he would catch it. They were both decent in size, but nothing so over-the-top as to arouse suspicion. Just normal gifts for normal friends that mean nothing more in hidden messages.

“Janus, this is very kind. I hadn’t even had time to think about purchasing them myself.” In his hand were the discs for the Ace Attorney trilogy. The two of them had a conversation, months ago now, about the games and the fascinating introspective look into the Japanese court system they provided. When Logan had admitted to never actually playing the games himself, simply watching video essays about them online, Janus had been quick to suggest they could go through them together one day. In all seriousness the comment hadn’t been something he intended to come back to, but as the holiday season rolled around, he found himself compelled. It was a fun experience that incorporated learning new information, all of which was right up Logan’s alley. And if he happened to be allowed to watch and use it as an excuse to spend more time around the other, then that was nobody’s business but his own. 

“Oh Jannie, you shouldn’t have!” Remus, coincidentally, had also been given something video game related. His old DDR mat had been torn to all hell—Janus was pretty sure Remus had been stepping on live wires the last time the two had played. So, a new mat.

“I definitely didn’t make it slip-proof either so it would be sturdier and last longer.” 

“Oh, Roman’s gonna kill you for this one.” It was true, Roman hated their DDR sessions. 

“Not my fault he’s not great at the game. He really needs to stop being a sore loser every time he fails a level we can both full combo with ease.”

“To be fair, you both are able to full combo level 15’s on that game.”

“Oh, I actually got my first full combo on a level 16 the other day!” Remus spoke with such an enthused grin, and Janus allowed himself a smile as well. It had taken nearly 30 minutes of trying the same song over and over before Remus had gotten it, with Janus sitting on the sideline for moral support after the first attempt or two. He had been so happy when he succeeded.

“Well, hopefully this helps you even more, I can’t wait to see your brother’s face when you really start showing him up.” Of course, Janus had nothing but good will towards his other friend, but right now the grin on Remus’ face was just a tad more important. He wasn’t around to hear, anyway.

“Oh, he’s gonna be—”

The rest of Remus’ statement was cut off by a loud thud, attracting all of their attention yet only making Logan jump. 

“What in the world was—”

“Ah, it seems it’s my turn to deliver your gifts.” Logan straightened his tie as he readjusted in his seat, and Janus could have sworn he heard him say “although they could’ve just texted” under his breath.

It seemed Janus wouldn’t be waiting to ask about his suspicious behavior, then. “Logan, what are you up to?”

“And what was the thud?” Remus chimed in.

“Please, just indulge me a moment longer.” He was quick to pass Remus and Janus small packages then, identical in their traditional Christmas blue and silver wrapping from what he could tell. “Go ahead, open them.”

Janus cast a glance in Remus’ direction, not entirely surprised to see him shrug and then move to open his gift, spurring himself to do the same. If his theory was right, whatever he and Remus had was the same thing, and he’d rather not have his gift spoiled because he was watching someone else.

He wasn’t as careful with the paper this time, wrapping it a bit recklessly and pulling the box from beneath. It looked like a box one would use to hold a gift card, but pulling off the lid revealed no such thing. Instead, the words “look outside” were neatly written in Logan’s compact handwriting. 

There was a moment of eye contact between Janus and Remus before the latter raced to the window the sound had come from earlier. Janus wasn’t too far behind, if more civilized in his refusal to hop over the couch. 

The curtains were pulled back quickly, and very prominently, there was a message splayed out on the lawn, pressed into the fallen snow and definitely large enough for them both to read.

‘Will you both go out with me?’

“I… apologize for the untraditional nature of my gift, if one can even call it that, but I thought this would be the best way for me to ask.”

The attention was back on Logan before he even finished talking, Janus’ face for once not hiding any of his expression, his jaw open and eyes wide in surprise. He…?

“Both of us?” Remus normally had a nasally tone when he spoke, but this wasn’t that. No, there was a tremor in his voice, the same one Janus was sure he would have if he tried to speak right now. 

“Yes. I’ve come to develop feelings for both of you, and if I recall properly, you have both expressed that you’re okay with polyamory in the past.”

“That wasn’t your answer, though.” Janus felt the words leave his throat, no accusatory tone behind them. Not really any tone behind them. He was just speaking.

“Not at the time. I didn’t believe polyamory was for me, until I started to develop feelings for both of you. I came to realize that in dating only one of you, it would feel incomplete without the other. When it comes to—ugh—feelings, we all know I’m hardly a master on the subject. But I know what I feel for each of you, and I would like to know if this is something you’d be inclined to explore further.”

“And I thought hiding my feelings was the best answer.”

That came from Remus, somehow. Not himself. Huh.

“Have we all been harboring secret feelings for one another and just not said anything this whole time?”

“Well, I was kinda obvious. I did suggest having sex to both of you multiple times.”

“And we took you very seriously in that offer, Remus, truly.”

“As for myself, I only realized my feelings in their entirety a month or so ago,” Logan said. “Then, I started planning this, so I wasn’t hiding my own, per say.”

“Well then Jannie, what’s your excuse?” Remus was leaning against his shoulder when he asked, face inches away from his own. Just the kind of pressure he needed at that moment.

“Some things are better kept in secret until the time is right.”

“And for you that ‘right time’ would’ve been never. Right, Logan, I think it’s clear enough we both return your feelings and wanna go for polyamory. We can work out all the juicy stuff later.” 

“That is acceptable to me. Janus?” 

Both sets of eyes were now on him, Remus looking with a mischievous grin and Logan, a soft and hopeful smile. 

He nodded.

Remus whooped, and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how hard it was coordinating with the other three to make this happen.”

“Wait, they were in on it?” He was so glad Remus had backed up before he spoke, because that yell was loud.

“Of course, I needed someone to make the sign while I kept you distracted inside. They’re out there right now waiting for me to text them about your answers. Speaking of which…” Logan was quick to pull his phone out, presumably sending the aforementioned text. 

“But how were you planning to get them all here late? It’s Patton’s house, and you couldn’t have known Remus would puncture Roman’s tire.”

“It was for his gift!”

“Yes, well, the original plan was for Roman to just fake having car troubles, requiring Paton to go and pick him up.” As he spoke, Logan adjusted his glasses, the pretty pink that had been coloring his cheeks finally dulling a bit. Shame. “Remus’ pranks just added another level of realism to the whole thing, if annoying Roman in the process. I do find it humorous that he unknowingly contributed to a plan he wasn’t even aware of.”

“I’m right here, you know!”

“Well, we can never be sure what that one will do,” Janus said with a smirk, all too agreeable with continuing the bit.

“You guys are so rude. I deserve cuddles and kisses for this behavior.” The pout on Remus’ face was absolutely adorable.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to hold off on that for now,” Logan said, and Janus noticed he was checking a text on his phone. “It appears our presence is being requested outside as ‘Roman really wants to hit Remus upside the head with a snowball as payback.’”

“Oh, he really thinks he can win a snowball fight? I have a whole harem on my side.”

“Debatable,” Janus chimed in, making his way towards the staircase so he could get to the first floor and into the inevitable snow day they were all about to have.

“The us being a harem thing or you guys being on my side?”

“Both,” answered Logan, and Janus felt he could kiss him right there.

“Hey!”

They made their way outside after only one attempt from Remus to steal Janus’ coat, quickly being enveloped in hugs and congratulations from Patton. Roman and Virgil, it seemed, would be sending their congratulations over later, as they were currently hidden behind a snow wall which Janus was sure had plenty of ammo waiting behind it.

And he never was one to go for the side with a disadvantage now, was he?

Sure, the first acts of his new relationship were now making fun of one of his partners and then abandoning them for the other side in a snowball fight, and he definitely hit Remus right on his mustache with one of them, but honestly, this was who he was. This was the manipulative liar that apparently, both of his crushes had fallen for.

So no, Janus had no problems with his actions. He very much doubted his boyfriends did, either.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏)

Tag: @seacottons

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐷𝑎𝑑! 𝐴𝑈.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2𝐾

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟.......𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑗𝑜𝑦.

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~December 5th~

Y/N hurried towards her friends who were already settled at the very top of the mountain, their snowboards and skiis all lined up in a perfect row.

"Last one down pays for dinner." One of them suggested to which they all unanimously agreed to.

"3, 2, Go!"

The racers all started sloping down the snowy mountain, some going to different directions, but ultimately they were all headed south. Y/N shifted her weight to keep balance on her snowboard. Usually she'd show off and do a trick, but right now she was focused on getting down as fast as possible.

"Pick up the pace Y/N!" Her friend teased as they swooped right past her.

Y/N let out a snort as she leaned forward to get more speed and traction. She also decided to move more to the right, where she knew a shortcut that none of the others knew about. She let out a small chuckle at the thought of their faces when they saw her all the way down there.

Her smile faded fast when she saw someone step out right in front of her, a dark haired male that seemed preoccupied with taking a picture he didn't notice she was coming.

"Look out!" She shouted, finally getting his attention.

The boy froze and seemed unable to move. Y/N swerved to the left, a little too fast and ended up falling off her board, tumbling down a few feet before landing on a bed of snow. She groomed softly as she lifted her head, already feeling the aching of her muscles.

"Are you ok?!" The same man who had inadvertently caused her accident ran over and helped her sit up.

"I...think so?" She asked rather than answered.

She quickly stood up, taking off her googles and winter hat to try and inspect what damage had been done not only to her body but to her board. She dusted some of the snow off her and looked up to find the mystery man looking at her intently.

"What? Am I bleeding?" She touched her face and forehead, not a stranger to bleeding due to some of the accidents she'd been through.

"No! Not at all!! Just......"

He smiled shyly, dimples clearly shown on his cheeks as his eyes formed small crescents.

"You're really pretty..." He confessed awkwardly, leaving her baffled and speechless.

"Th-thank you....you're pretty handsome yourself..." She tucked some hair behind her ear.

"I'm San." He introduced himself, holding out a hand for her to take, which she promptly did.

"I'm Y/N."

You were sad that you had to pay for your friend's dinner because you lost, but you weren't to sad because San asked you out for a date the next day.

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~January 12, One Year Later~

"Brrr. It's freezing out there."

San shook the snow off him, placing his boots on the corner.

"I told you it was going to snow, but you don't listen." She rolled her eyes at him.

Adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate, she picked them up and set them down on the table in front of the fireplace, then proceeded to wrap one of the blankets around herself. San wasted no time in cuddling up next to her and taking one of the mugs in his hand, sipping slowly so as to not burn himself. Smiling sweetly at her, he scooted closer to her, his head resting on her shoulder.

"Remember when we met last year?" He suddenly spoke.

Y/N nearly spat her chocolate back into the mug.

"Ahhh yes. You mean when I nearly killed you?"

San laughed softly at that.

"Never in my life did I think I'd actually end up dating my almost murderer."

She rolled her eyes at that.

"You were the idiot that wasn't paying attention." She reminded him.

"I was trying to take a picture of a bunny that was nearby thank you. Which you scared off by the way."

They began reminiscing about their times after a year of dating, laughing about their first fight, their first kiss and the times they met each other's respective parents.

"You looked terrified of my dad."

"How was I supposed to be calm? Especially after he said he wanted to talk to me in private?" San defended himself.

Y/N hummed softly.

"What did he talk to you about anyway?"

San shrugged softly.

"The usual...like...if I broke your heart, he was going to break my balls."

Y/N actually slapped her knee at that one, knowing fully well her father would really be the type to say such things.

San scratched the back of his head as he wondered if he should say the next part.

"He.....also asked....... if I loved you...."

Y/N felt her heart drop at that word. Even though they had been dating for a year, they had never said the L word. She wanted to change the subject, afraid of his answer, but curiosity got the better of her and she had to ask.

"What....what did you tell him?" She fidgeted with the ends of her hoodie.

San shifted so he sat in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he confessed:

"I told him I loved you with all my heart and that.....I hoped you felt the same way..."

He looked at her with hopeful eyes, gulping slightly, afraid that his feelings weren't reciprocated. When Y/N didn't respond for a minute, he let out a defeated sigh.

"All right. I understand." He made move to get up, but Y/N made him stay in place.

"No silly. I was just shocked you actually told my father that." She explained.

"Well I wasn't going to lie. I do love you Y/N, truly I do." His voice sounded desperate at this point.

Y/N teared up and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Oh Sannie.....I love you too."

San widened his eyes at her words, he felt himself tearing up as well, but he was filled with warmth at the thought that she felt the same, it was not a one sided love. He couldn't help himself as he cupped her face and began pecking her lips repeatedly.

"I love you. I love you with all my heart."

He giggled as he intensified his kisses, turning them from small pecks into more heated and passionate lip locks that had her craving for more. San ended up pushing her onto the floor, his hands placed on either side of her face. They both looked at each other, both wanting to ask the same question but too shy to actually speak out about having their first time right then.

"Y/N.....if you don't want to, we can-"

She silenced him by pulling him on top of her and resuming their makeout session.

"I want to. Go ahead." She assured him.

San kissed her forehead.

"I love you so much."

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~December 25, 3 years later~

All of the boys gathered around the tree, already ecstatic at the thought of opening their presents.

"I'm really looking forward to Yeosang's gift for me." Mingi bounced in his seat.

"I told you. I got you socks." Yeosang repeated for the thousandth time, making everybody burst out laughing.

"You know you're just joking Sangie." Wooyoung pinched his cheek, much to Yeosang's dismay.

The clock struck midnight, signaling that it was now time to open presents. There was a lot of noises, squealing and rustling of paper heard, the latter all discarded near the floor, soon picked up by Seonghwa, who hated seeing litter scattered about.

"Perfect for you Hwa. I actually got you a broom and dustpan set." Hongjoong snickered as he held out the cleaning supplies from the house to his friend.

"Shut up." Seonghwa groaned, not at all amused by the joke.

"Calm down. I actually got you something else." Hongjoong held out the actual gift, which turned out to be Toothless slippers and bathrobe set. It made Seonghwa burst out laughing, donning his infamous awkward smile.

"Yah! What is this Kang Yeosang?!" Mingi held out a box full of assorted socks.

Yeosang merely shrugged.

"What? You all laughed and joked that I wasn't serious. Jokes on you bitches. I was dead serious." Yeosang sipped his tea as he stared Mingi down, who merely pouted.

"Look on the bright side Mingi. Yunho might stop complaining about you stealing his socks." Seonghwa patted his shoulder.

"It's not me!" Mingi retorted.

"No one else's feet but yours fit in them!" Yunho accused him.

Y/N and San just laughed and decided to just enjoy the presents they got for each other. Y/N was happy that San liked his presents, but she was saving the best for last, knowing he was going to go wild about it.

Pulling him outside, she closed the door behind them both, ignoring the chaos going on inside.

"If it's another mistletoe trick, I won't mind." San was already puckering his lips.

"No silly....there's another present I wanted to give you."

"Oh?" San tilted his head.

She pulled out a small and thin white box that had a purple ribbon wrapped around it. San shook it near his ear, trying to guess what was in it, but had no clue. He carefully unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box. He had to do a double take as he peered into the contents. He looked at his lover with wide eyes.

"Is this....?" He asked for confirmation.

She nodded and chuckled happily. San's face lit up and he picked her up, spinning her around as he kissed the side of her head.

"Oh my God! This is the best Christmas present ever my love! Thank you!"

Tears of joy started streaming down his face as he embraced the love of his life for a long time. He wasted no time in speeding back inside the house and wave the object around for everyone to see.

"Guys! We're having a baby! You're all gonna be uncles!"

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~December 5, Present Day~

San and Y/N made sure the carrier was covered fully by the long and thick blanket. After making sure it was sunny, San opened the door and allowed his sweetheart to walk out. Y/N carefully walked down the steps of the cabin they always stayed in since the day they met. San followed after her, one step behind her, ready to help if she needed anything.

They both looked at each other and smiled. Y/N put the carrier gently down on the blanket of snow as San took out his camera.

"Ready." San gave her the ok sign.

Y/N peeled back the blanket covering the carrier, revealing their tiny 4 month old baby daughter, who was now wide awake and observing her surroundings.

"Smile snowflake." San took a picture of her.

Light snow started to fall around them and the tiny baby reached her hand out to touch this new object that was foreign to her. A tiny snowflake fell on her nose and she sneezed softly when it made contact with her skin.

Her parents couldn't help but coo at how lovely and adorable she was. Picking her up along with several blankets, Y/N showed off the view to her.

"Look darling. This is the exact spot daddy and I met years ago."

San chuckled as he kept taking photos of his two most precious treasures in his life. After getting his fill, he walked up next to Y/N, poking his daughter's cheek.

"Even though you were born in summer, I'm sure you'll learn to love the winter just as much as we do."

The baby continued to be fascinated by the falling snow around her, her arms flailing into the air, trying to catch it, only to fall in confusion every time it melted in her tiny hand.

"I say she already loves it." Y/N noticed her reactions.

"I'm glad she does. I can't wait to bring her here every year to watch the first snow fall every time." San kissed her tiny head before looking back at his wife and repeating the action on her forehead.

"I love you. And I love our precious snowflake too."

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[hermannsthumb]

Could you do #40 cancelled holiday party? Thank you!

40. i just found out that a friend of a friend of a friend isn’t hosting their annual holiday party this year, so now how am i going to have my annual run in with you?

from winter writing prompts here

happy xmas eve, if you celebrate it!

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

Newt doesn’t really have many friends, and certainly not enough to warrant a flood of party invitations come December, but for the past few years he’s been able to rely pretty consistently on at least one. Back when the band was still together, his drummer had a pretty cool girlfriend who would sometimes let them tag along as the entertainment for parties around town, and her brother (who was almost as cool as her) ended up liking the way they sounded so much he invited them back to his own parties a couple times. Then he dated Newt’s guitarist, and then he broke up with Newt’s guitarist, and then he dated Newt, and then he broke up with Newt, and it sort of fell apart from there (and so did the band), but the breakup was actually pretty amicable, and he’s never failed to extend the invitation to Newt for his annual holiday bash as a courtesy. And Newt’s never failed to make an appearance. What’s there not to like, you know? It’s free booze, free food, and the chance to not feel like a total loser loner for once. Plus…well. Another reason.

But this year isn’t looking too good for Newt.

“Sick?” Newt says. “What do you mean he’s sick?”

“I mean,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, irritably, “he’s sick. Caught the flu or something. I don’t know, Jackie just wanted me to call and tell you, she didn’t give me any details.”

“Couldn’t he have called me himself?” Newt says.

“No,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, “I told you, he has the flu, he’s totally out of it, man. Party’s off this year. Hey, did you get our Christmas card?”

“What? Oh. Yeah,” Newt sighs. He tacked it up on his fridge: the two women with their arms around each other, one pink-haired, one blue-haired, holding up their cat in the middle like it was their son or something. Clever. Quirky. Newt just makes a generic Tweet mid-December wishing everyone a happy holiday season and calls it a success—less effort. “Yeah, it was cute. It’s definitely cancelled? He can’t just, I don’t know, take some Advil or something and—”

“Newt,” she says.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Newt says. “Tell Jackie to tell him to—get well soon? Soon enough for New Year’s, maybe? Because it would be great if—”

She hangs up on him. Newt probably deserved it.

He stalks Jackie’s brother’s Facebook for a bit after the phone call to make sure he’s not just lying about the flu to get out of inviting Newt to the holiday bash he’s definitely having. It becomes clear pretty quick it’s pretty legit—he’s made exactly one post in the last few days, and it’s a selfie of him looking absolutely horrid in his bed, advising everyone to not be like him and get their flu shots. Not lying, then. Damn it. There’s not even going to be anything for Newt to crash.

“Damn it,” Newt groans, and slams his laptop shut.

In all honesty, Newt’s not pissed about missing the party itself. He’s pissed about missing the party guests. How else is he going to have his annual spat at the snack table with his mortal enemy, Dr. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed Gottlieb?

Mortal enemy is too strong. Rival, maybe? Though certainly not a friendly one. He’s fond of Dr. Gottlieb, really, in some insane, backwards kinda way, like he’s a specimen Newt would love nothing more than to cram under a microscope and study up close. What makes him tick? What makes him scowl like that, yell at Newt—more or less a stranger—like that, attend the same party year after year like that only to stand in the darkest corner like a vampire and avoid every single other person? The first time they met was at the party three years ago, when Dr. Gottlieb loudly accused Newt of deliberately snagging the last cucumber finger sandwich because he somehow knew Dr. Gottlieb was eyeing it up, too, and only did it to annoy him, and it’s only gone downhill from there. Or maybe uphill. He fascinates Newt.

He’s also insanely attractive to Newt. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed, but, my God, what a set of cheekbones, what a set of eyes, what a big ‘ole mouth that Newt can only assume would be awesome for kissing. And only a few inches of height on Newt, too; he wouldn’t even need to stretch up that far to test out his hypothesis.

Since Newt has Facebook open, he does another search for Dr. Gottlieb—Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, technically, though he’s furious whenever Newt tries to call him anything other than his full title. If Newt was normal, he’d just shoot the guy a friend request or something. A simple message. He just stalks his page instead, which makes him feel the sting of the cancelled party even more keenly: Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t post, like, any pictures of himself, but the ones he’s been tagged in by his company and someone who appears to be his brother make it very clear very fast that he kinda just got even hotter over the year. He’s started wearing his oversized glasses on a librarian chain, and his haircut—which had always been a severe sort of undercut—has grown out up top to be adorably poofy. Tragic.

He shoots his ex-drummer a text later. Can you ask Jackie to ask about that Gottlieb guy that’s there every year? Like, what’s his deal?

The reply comes later, while Newt is reheating some leftover Chinese takeout for dinner. they’re friends w gottlieb’s younger bro. mostly invite him to be nice.

“Figures,” Newt mutters.

Well, if there won’t be a party at which to have their annual run-in, Newt is simply going to have to orchestrate a run-in himself. The first step is finding out where Gottlieb works.

Newt picks a miserable day to set his plan into action. A snowstorm swept through the city a few days prior, and before the sidewalks were even finished dethawing, a sleet storm followed and turned them into eighty-percent sheets of ice. And then more snow comes. Newt slips and slides all the way to the cafe across from Gottlieb’s humble little robotics research facility, cursing himself for not having invested in proper winter boots yet. Docs are practical and cool, but they could be warmer, and Newt’s are so old the treads are basically nonexistent. He orders himself the most expensive coffee on the menu as a reward for his troubles and claims a chair near the large shop window in front, underneath a hanging fern. He would simply wait and watch for Gottlieb to walk out. The man had to walk out eventually. Lunch break, or coffee break, or even just clocking out for the day. He had to.

“Would you like to see our sandwich menu, sir?” a waitress asks Newt. “We have a new—"

“Nah, no thanks,” Newt says. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the window. “You don’t have to call me sir, by the way. It makes me feel old. Does a Dr. Gottlieb ever come here?”

The waitress snorts involuntarily; she flushes a second later. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s just that—yes, Dr. Gottlieb comes in a lot, and he’s kind of…”

“Awful?” Newt grins.

“Particular,” the waitress says. “He has us remake his coffee if it’s not perfect enough for him. And we have to write out the whole thing, Dr. Gottlieb, on his cup, every time. He tips really well, though, so we don’t really mind.”

“Has he come in today yet?” Newt says.

She opens her mouth as if to answer the question, but then furrows her eyebrows. “Why do you want to know, anyway? Are you guys friends?”

“Not really,” Newt says. Deciding it’s not worth the effort to explain the complex homoeroticism of his dynamic with Gottlieb, and to random waitress who probably doesn’t give a shit at that, he amends “I mean, yes. Good friends. I’ll see that sandwich menu, actually.”

Newt has a nice breakfast of avocado and egg on a bagel, and pretends to do work on his laptop for a few hours, but—to his disappointment—Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t come in for a coffee. Newt doesn’t catch sight of any familiar dark-haired, scowling men walking in or out of the institute, either. Gottlieb must have off today. Maybe it’s for the best, anyway; Newt’s not totally sure what he would’ve done if he ran into the guy on the street, or how he would have even explained why he’s there to Gottlieb if he did. He was just sort of operating under the assumption he’d figure it out in the heat of the moment. He calls it quits around three in the afternoon, not wanting to walk home in the dark after sunset. “Happy holidays,” he tells the baristas gloomily, and steps out into the snow with one last cardboard cup of coffee.

He mulls it all over in his head as he avoids ice patches and passersby on the way home. Should he ask for Dr. Gottlieb��s number? Is it weird to ask your ex, or even his sister, for the number of a guy you’re sorta-interested in? Newt supposes it’s weird to invite your ex to a holiday party in the first place, but he really wasn’t lying about it being amicable. Maybe he wouldn’t care. He could always just send that fucking Facebook friend request. Or he could just wait until next year. It’s just a year.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the patch of ice directly in front of his apartment until he’s already stepping on it, and his stomach flips in a way that lets Newt knows he’s just fucked up; his worn-out boot loses traction, his arms pinwheel, his coffee goes flying, and he lands—

In someone’s arms?

Well, even that’s not totally right. He lands mostly in someone’s arms, but he hears a little oof, an exclamation of surprise, and then they both topple over and into a snowbank. The coffee lands somewhere next to Newt’s head. “Bugger,” a familiar voice groans.

Newt sits up. Dr. Gottlieb is laying on his back next to him, wrapped in a green parka and about three scarves. To Newt’s relief, he doesn’t look angry. More embarrassed than anything else. “Apologies,” he says. “You were heavier than I’d anticipated. Or perhaps I was not as strong as I anticipated.”

“I appreciate it anyway, dude,” Newt says.

He gets to his feet, locates Gottlieb’s cane from where it’s somehow landed on the other side of the sidewalk, then tugs Gottlieb to his feet as well. Gottlieb makes a face as he rights himself. “You ought to watch yourself, and be more careful,” he says. “You could break your neck next time.”

“Worried about me?” Newt says. He dusts some snow off Gottlieb’s shoulders. “What are you doing outside my apartment, dude?”

“Er,” Gottlieb says.

He goes a strange shade of pink, and clears his throat. “I fancied…a walk. In the snow. Fresh air. And I just happened to be—er—” He clears his throat again. “I happened to discover you lived here, and my walk happened to take me by. I wasn’t looking for you, if that’s what you’re implying. Or waiting for you. I have better things to do with myself.”

“Really?” Newt says. “’Cause I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” Gottlieb says.

He really is cute right now, with his red-tipped ears, his dumb coat, his dumb scarves, the snow sticking to his back and his poofy hair. Sticking to his long eyelashes. It’s the first time Newt’s ever seen the guy not, like, at least mildly annoyed at him; it’s doing something funny to his heart. “Hey, you wanna come in for a coffee or something?” he says. “Mine kinda spilled, and I could go for another.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Gottlieb says.

Newt grins. “Come on, I know you want to. It’s cold as shit out and you’ve clearly been out here for a while. We can order a pizza or something, too.”

“Well,” Gottlieb says, and he ducks his head as he finally smiles back. It’s worth the wait, because my God, is it cute, all broad and crooked. Newt has the feeling not too many people get to witness it. “Perhaps for a bit. I was hoping to discuss your latest article with you, you know, and was very put out when I learned I wouldn’t be seeing you at the party this year.”

“Oh?” Newt says. He holds out his hand, and Gottlieb startles visibly a moment before taking it. Newt can feel how cold Gottlieb is even through his thick red mitten—he could use a little warming up. Newt can light a fire in the fireplace he rarely uses…maybe break out some wine…it’ll be nice and romantic… “Did you like it?”

“Not in the slightest,” Gottlieb says cheerily.

“Just what I was hoping,” Newt says. “After you, Doctor.”

[notspazztrapavacado]

Got the inspiration for this from scpdoctor-incorrectquotes so thanks again for being cool with me writing this :)

'Frozen frustration'

Dr. Iceberg x reader (fluff?)

“Fucking GREAT.” Iceberg groaned loudly his protest to the sky, as if that would make the clouds disperse under the wrath of his less than intimidating stature. 

Ice coated every concrete surface it could cing to. The hand railings, the sidewalk, most of the street, the stairs. The people responsible for pouring salt and removing the frozen layer of winter wouldn't be here for another three hours. He frowned, not wanting to sleep in the breakroom again and wanting to fall down the stairs even less. 

“Mornin’ Iceman.” A familiar voice sounded from behind him and he felt his hair get ruffled, messing it up even more than it already was from his long day at work.

“(Y/n)? You’re still here?” He tilted his head and the friend in question had to stop themselves short of commenting on how cute he could be when he was tired. 

“Yeah, I was helping Bright out with his filing. Guy’s the least organized bastard in this place.” (He/She) made a move to go past them, not even minding the ice as their shoe was able to successfully make an imprint in the ice. Iceberg huffed, irritated.

“You comin’?” (Y/n) asked, raising a brow as (he/she) was puzzled by his stillness. 

“Can't. Shoes don’t get traction and i’m not quite heavy enough to change that.” He crossed his arms, getting a little pink in the face at the sound of a laugh.

“Need help?” (He/She) pulled (his/her) hand from (his/her) pocket and held it out, fingers splayed and wiggling to motion the offer forward.

“We’ll both eat shit on the stairs if I go down.” Iceberg made sure that part was clear as he placed his hand in (his/hers). (He/She) only laughed again. 

“Alright, 50/50 chance we don’t is still good odds.” (He/She) shot him a smile and he had to return it. It might not be the best situation to find yourself holding hands with someone in, but it was better than nothing and Iceberg was a sucker for anything warmer than him. Especially hugs and hand holding. . . he shook the further thoughts of (Him/Her) away with a blush and some self scolding under his breath that was inaudible to his more optimistic co-worker.

He took a hesitant step down, feeling the lack of friction under his shoe making his weight slide towards (Y/n) a little more, his free hand reaching fast to cling onto (his/her) arm. 

“Don’t go falling for me too hard, there.” (He/she) joked, making his face catch a blush again. 

“Take your time.” (He/She) reassured him carefully, taking their next step down. He joined with a tentative step to the iced cement, putting yet more weight on the arm. 

“You weren’t kidding about that comment on being underweight.” (He/She) made another jab at him, and he grumbled at the teasing. 

“I’m stunted, okay? Now shut up so I can concentrate.” He was the one to reach the next step first, and (Y/n) watched closely as (he/she) joined him on that step. 

From somewhere behind them, the current form of Dr. Clef made its way down the steps without so much as a second’s hesitation, before looking up to them with a sharp smile. 

“Morning, Alto. Where ya headin?” (Y/n) was not the least bit phased, though Iceberg was bordering on upset at the casual pace the reality bender was able to descend at. 

“Just here. You two’ve been out here a while and I’m just waiting for someone to bite it.” He pulled out his phone and started to record them.

“Well fuck you, too, asshole!” Iceberg raised his voice, back to being embarrassed he not only needed help with this, but that he was now being filmed about to potentially fuck up his nose on the stairs in front of two of his co workers, one of them a crush he’d been nursing like a wound for the past few months.

“Do you trust me?” (Y/n) nudged him. “Like, really trust me?” (He/She) asked. 

“What are you planning?” He peered up at them. He was just a bit shorter than (him/her) due to the stunting he got from the severe anxiety of gaining too much weight in his younger teen years, and was still growing used to the fact (Y/n) was one of the only friends he had that did not instinctively hunch over a bit to look at him directly. 

“If I tell you, you’ll send us down on video, you either gotta trust me or continue the pace we’re at.” He had choices. Neither of them ones he liked, but conceded to anyway. 

“I trust you.” He sighed, his grip loosening on (his/her) arm.

“Up we go!” (Y/n) jutted (his/her) hands forward to be under his arms, pulling him up to his torso. 

Iceberg yelped and grappled with the back of (Y/n)’s shirt, legs wrapping around (his/her) waist and stringing together several unintelligible objections to being scooped up so suddenly without warning, only growing worse as (Y/n) took off down the stairs in a run. He squeezed his eyes shut, whole body absolutely rigid with fear, waiting for impact with the ground at some point…

“Alright, we’re down.” (He/She) patted his back.

“I didn’t get what I wanted but that shit was hilarious. Imma go bother Konny.” Clef snickered and waved, earning only a glare from Iceberg as he started back up the steps. 

“You want down or is it warm up here?” (Y/n) offered. 

“Don’t know if that was a cold joke or a short joke.” He replied saltily… He was right though, it was very warm up here, and now that the initial shock was gone, it really wasn’t so bad. 

“I think it’ll be faster if I just carry you.” (Y/n) started at a much more reasonable pace down the frozen sidewalk, not minding the extra weight one bit. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He piped up, not having thought about it before. 

“Not really.” (Y/n) shrugged. It was half true, (he/she) wasn’t exactly cold, though (he/she) was colder than before by just a small margin. 

“My apartment is number 12.” He decided to tell him ahead of time. Most of the researchers with anomalous properties lived on site to avoid potential trackers that could tie them to the facility or raise suspicion in the local communities. 

“I’m the one across from you, we’ve been neighbors a year as of last week.” (He/She) gave a small laugh at the information. Iceberg buried his face in (his/her) coat both for the added warmth and to hide the further embarrassment at how much he’d fucked up today. 

“Keys?” (Y/n) asked, freeing a hand from it’s place helping the other hold him. 

“Left pocket.” He instructed, not willing to let go. 

“Wow, just gonna let me put my hand in your pants like this?” (Y/n) teased before locating the left pocket in question and dipping (his/her) hand in, pulling the keyring out by the loop.

“You try anything and I pull us both backwards.” He threatened. 

“Not only do you think you’re heavy enough for that, but you just said you’d let me top right here in public?” (He/She) laughed, earning mildly angry silence. 

(Y/n) selected the key that resembled (his/her) own and pushed it into the lock, turning it and hearing the telltale click of the old lock before pushing the door open. (He/she) set him carefully past the step and onto the warm linoleum of his well-heated house. 

“Alright, you can fuck off now.” Iceberg crossed his arms. 

“Awe, don’t I get a kiss on the cheek like those christmas romcoms?” (Y/n) leaned forward a bit and pointed at (his/her) cheek. He only pouted and opened his mouth to tell him off. 

“You can go shove it if you think I’d thank you for scaring me half to death and being a pr-” He was cut off as (Y/n) leaned away without taking the weight shift into consideration and slipping, feet sliding around trying to get a grip in vein as they ultimately fell forward and smacked their face into the concrete slab that was his doorstep. 

“Oh shit, are you alright?!” Iceberg kneeled down in near-panic for his friend. (He/She) sat up in a daze before shaking (his/her) head of the fuzziness and starting to laugh loudly. 

At the sight that, other than a nasty bruise across (his/her) nose and blood gushing from said orifice, (he/she) was just fine. Iceberg, half out of relief, joined the laughing fit. 

Maybe today wasn’t so bad.

[burnedbyshoto]

Amelioration

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: cursing, soulmate!au

word count: 5,792

a/n: here is the final part to the happiness series!!!! does reader forgive shouto??? does shouto marry momo??? who knows!!!

Happiness (part one) ~ Bravado (part two)

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

amelioration: (n) the act of making something better; improving

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

For the first time since that night seven months ago you feel truly and completely happy.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Two Months Later

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

It took time, but you believed after months of being upset, you were happy.

The periods of you crying over a boy, who didn’t want you, had stopped two months ago. Two months of rediscovering who you were. Two months of figuring out what kind of person you were outside of this soulmate ordeal.

Why did romance always have to overpower everything?

Why did everyone need someone else to love them when they could love themselves?

Why the hell couldn’t you love yourself despite believing no one else could?

So you had thrown yourself into work. You decided to invest yourself into what you did best as you figured out how to make yourself happy. You hadn’t spoken to anyone in your old class since Kirishima’s birthday celebration; you weren’t embarrassed by your actions, but you didn’t want to discuss anything with them.

Your phone number was changed, and you had moved out of Kaminari’s place within twenty hours. You hadn’t opened any sort of social media in weeks because you had started to get DM’s from your friends— if they even wanted to consider you their friend after that.

Yes, your guilt had quickly consumed you after that night, but the truth of the matter was that you were, in fact, happier. Your role as a sidekick to Miruko kept you busy (she was aiming to climb the charts again) and you, finally a Pro Hero, were now inducted into the chart. You needed to perform well to keep Miruko happy.

Todoroki’s name on your wrist was no longer covered; it was visible by anyone and everyone who dared to look.

“Todoroki Shouto?!” the man in front of you exclaimed as he held your wrist gently in his hand. “Isn’t that the Pro-Hero Shouto, son of the number one hero?!”

You nod your head with a smile. It was the downside of being soulmates with someone as big of an influence in Japan as the Todoroki’s. “It is,” you say as you pull your arm back. “Is that a problem?” You ask, your head tilting to the side.

You were on one of the many dates you’d had since that night two months ago.

Each one started or ended sort of like this.

You were happy, yet no one else would let you forget about your cosmic mistake.

“Don’t you know Shouto?” he asks with a confused look. “Didn’t you two go to U.A. together? I remember watching the two of you compete at the Sports Festival!”

“As much as I would love to discuss Todoroki, I am trying to learn about you tonight,” you say as coolly as you can.

It was nearing Christmas Eve.

It was a holiday for lovers. A day that held the record for the most black ink tattoos turning gold in Japan. You just didn’t want to spend it alone, especially seeing that you would most likely not be celebrating it with your old classmates.

“Yeah, but the thing is I’m friends with Shouto! I can’t be here romancing his soulmate!” He exclaims whipping out his phone, and immediately you’re on guard.

“What are you doing?” You ask trying to peer at his phone screen.

“Just texting my friend,” he laughs as he pockets his phone, “but I mean, what did he do to deserve the silent treatment? I know there are fangirls out there who would die to have his name on their wrists! Did you know that some girl actually got his name tattooed on her wrist over her soulmates?!”

Your eyebrows scrunch and you felt uneasy, but you let it go, deciding to continue the conversation instead. “You’re not able to put ink over soulmate tattoos.”

“It was part of her quirk or something like that!” He laughed merrily. “But what made you run away from him? Is it because he’s the worst at keeping conversations going?”

“I don’t really want to talk about Todoroki,” you admit as the waiter set your plates in front of you.

You wanted to leave. You didn’t want to be associated with anyone that would remind you of Todoroki. You could handle your dates being in awe over your soulmate, but them knowing him on a personal level? That was too much.

“Oh, okay sure!” he nods as he grabs his chopsticks. “I have no filter, sorry!”

Your smile is strained, but the dinner goes on smoothly.

The conversation between the two of you flows as smooth as it can. You’re apprehensive about getting too personal with him and he asks anything on his mind. Besides knowing about his connection to Todoroki, it wasn’t a bad date. But it was not likely that you would go out with him again in the foreseeable future.

“So you’re a sidekick over at Miruko’s agency?” He asks.

The plates that had held your food have been eaten to completion. The waiter returning to grab the dirty dishes as he leaned towards you. Your fingers grasped onto your glass of water as you drink it slowly. Your head nodding as you place the cup down.

“Yeah, I started off as an intern my first year at U.A., and I think it’s safe to say we clicked.” You explain brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s really great getting to work with her, I love Rumi.”

“Oh, I bet! Miruko scares me though! But again, I nearly crapped myself the first time I met Endeavor.” He laughed good-naturedly and you smiled in amusement. Being a side-kick at Endeavors agency was a testament to his strength as a hero. Getting in and staying there was no joke. “Plus with that ugly-- oh, hey! Over here!” He exclaimed with a large grin, his arm-waving to someone behind you.

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion but the warmth of your tattoo grew as you felt someone standing by you.

“Shouto,” He says standing up and bowing to the man behind you. You stay in your seat, frozen stiff while burning holes into your dates head. “I’m so glad you came!”

“You invited a stranger on our date?” You snap as you stand up, immediately grabbing your purse and jacket that hung on the chair. “Thanks for a good evening but I have to go now.” You say ignoring his protests.

Your fingers grabbed a few yen you had and threw it on the table.

Making sure to turn out towards the side that Todoroki was not on, you hurried out. Their calls for you to come back falling deaf on your ears.

Your name being called did not stop you, nor did the looks being thrown your way. Weaving through people, you finally made it outdoors.

It was empty outside. No cars were driving by; no people walking either. It was empty with only the slowly falling snow to keep you company. Your jacket was hastily pulled on and the cold air stung at your cheeks as you continued walking. You needed to get away, yet you have no idea where you are right now.

“Y/n!” A voice called out for you.

It was him.

Your step doubled in speed, not quite running because of your low traction shoes. But the air stung more against your cheeks, and your nose turned red as you continued hustling.

“Y/n, wait!”

You didn’t want to wait. It had been months of you waiting, and now he wanted to make amends?! Now he wanted you to wait?

No.

Fuck that.

But then you heard the all too familiar sound of his quirk being used, and your feet were frozen in place.

Your eyes widen as you nearly fall over, your balance uneven.

“Fucking let me go!” You yell as you power your quirk through your legs, snapping yourself free from his trap, but it’s too late.

He holds your wrist before you can get away, pulling you towards him, and still, you don’t look at him.

Todoroki’s hand burns through your jacket and warms up your body and you hate that it makes you dizzy. You detest how unnaturally your body wants him near. How your heart yearned for him to win you over, but your brain screamed louder. Your brain demands you to move, and you comply.

“Let go of me.” You growl lowly, as you pull yourself away from his grasp.

“Please hear me out.” Todoroki pleads, once again holding onto you, but this time it’s by your jacket.

You despise the cold but it makes you unhappy being trapped by Todoroki. It makes you unhappy feeling like you will forgive someone when they don’t deserve it. So defiantly you slip out from the jacket.

The bitter and sharp air stab into your skin as you continue storming away, his shouts falling deaf on your ears. You didn’t want this, you didn’t need this. You were perfectly okay without him in your life, and now he was doing what? Trying to get you back into his life?

Was he going to ask you for permission to marry Momo?

Demand that you continue being unhappy for his sake?

That wasn’t going to happen, you wouldn’t let him use you like that.

Hot and angry tears freeze on your cheeks as you sniffle from the cold.

Footsteps hit the ground and your eyes widen as Todoroki is suddenly in front of you. His chest heaving, his eyes angry and sad.

“Put on your fucking jacket, idiot.” He speaks as he puts the warm fabric back around you.

“I don’t want it.” You sneer throwing the jacket onto the floor. Your eyes glaring daggers into him as smokey breaths expel from your mouth. “What do you want?! What is so damn important to you that you’re chasing after a girl you don’t fucking want?!”

“You’re my soulmate,” Todoroki flatly states, bending down to grab your jacket. He misses the way you roll your eyes and the temptation you have to kick him square in the dick and run away.

“I’m not your soulmate.” You say, your eyes locked on his as he stands back up. “You made that perfectly clear the first night. Say what you need to say and leave me alone.”

He stares at you at a loss of words.

It’s so cold, and you want nothing more than to leave him standing outside in the cold. You want to take your jacket from his hands. The jacket is warm because he’s using his quirk, and yet you want to yell at him to stop it. Why is he doing this? What is his purpose in standing here in front of you?

“What is it!” You scream but it’s broken. It sounds like a pathetic plead as your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m…” Todoroki looks at you with panicked eyes. He doesn’t know what he needs to say, and it makes your throat tight. “I’m sorry…” He mumbles, his eyes falling from your face down to the jacket in his hands.

“You’re… you’re sorry?!” You repeat, your voice pitching as you stumble backward. Your face is twisted with anger and defeat. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

Todoroki looks back at you, his jaw dropping to respond back to you, but you don’t want to hear his reasoning. You don’t want to know what dared him to feel sorry.

“Shut up.” You whisper, making Todoroki stop in his tracks.

“What--?”

“You didn’t want me. You were the one who told me that you wouldn’t break your promise with Momo! You were in love with someone that isn’t yours and you decided that no matter who your soulmate was, she was the one. You rejected me! I wasn’t the one who fucking rejected you! A-And now what?! You’re goddamn sorry?!” Your voice is shrill. This is a never-ending fight, a looping argument that will never find its peace. “I deserve someone who fucking wants me for me! You didn’t want me until my name was slapped over your wrist, and even with that, you didn’t want me! So why on fucking god would I want your apology?!”

Your chest heaves and all Todoroki can do is stare at you, his eyes wide, his mouth locked together.

“I wasn’t lying, nor was I being petty when I said I wanted you to drown in your guilt and your thoughts. I want you to never be able to look at me again because you broke me in seconds.” Your finger jabbed against his chest as you took your jacket and pulled it around your steaming body. “But I also wasn’t lying when I said I wished you and Momo happiness and love, so I hope whenever you marry her… whenever you’re years down the road and you have your own family and are happy... I want you to see my face. I want you to remember that it was my unhappiness, my sacrifice, that gave you that.”

Your eyes held no tears as you turned away, the cold wind futile as you walked away.

“You rejected me on my birthday, and now this is me rejecting you.” You mutter just loud enough for him to barely hear you.

The snow falling onto your head a joke. It was a mockery of the beauty and innocence of yourself.

But you felt better, you were getting better, and now you were going to move on.

You were improving, even if it was ever so slightly.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Ten Months Ago

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Shouto’s eyes stared at your name inked into his skin.

The black ink mocking him of what had transpired that night. It wasn’t that he was unhappy with your name being there. Had it not been for Momo he would have thanked the world for giving him someone he already trusted. But that was not the case right now.

Momo had been there for him for years. A force that reminded him that someone cared for him. She was a great friend, and it was only a matter of time before he fell for her.

Shouto had been there the night of her eighteenth birthday, the white light consuming her as Shouto realized that they weren’t meant for each other. He hadn’t been sad, and in fact, he had been happy for his friend as she exclaimed she knew who was on her wrist.

Shouto listened as she pulled out her phone, immediately calling the name of the person who was meant to be hers. It was exciting, and Shouto remembers laying on her mattress looking up at the ceiling in happiness for her. That is until her voice cracked.

Momo pulled the phone away, dropping it to her lap as she smiled.

Her soulmate was leaving the country.

They weren’t coming back to Japan ever.

Momo sniffs as she brushed away a tear. “What’s a girl to do about it,” she whispers.

“I’ll be your soulmate then,” Shouto said without thinking, as he normally does.

“Wha--”

“I’ll do it.” He insists as he sits up. “Being rejected isn’t something anyone should go through, especially if it’s just about distance. I know you don’t believe me, but if by the time it’s my birthday and I don’t have a soulmate I’ll pretend to be yours.”

“Todoroki-san, I can’t ask that of you!” Momo says shaking her head. “That would be unfair to when you have your own soulmate!”

“I want to help you out,” Shouto insists. “I won’t force you of course, but if you show up tomorrow with the ink-covered up, I’m all for it.”

It was then that Momo’s face flushed red, and her head turned away.

Shouto watched as the following day she appeared with her wrist blank, and his heart pounded at the thought of just what they were hoping to pull off.

But as all things go, a fake romance and a tight companionship turned into a real one, and Shouto found himself falling for the girl who couldn’t be his. Her persona became his drug and like a madman, he craved her, and the thing was she did too.

His birthday came around and he had no soulmate, so they went public.

Shouto was allowed to love the heiress out in the open, his own future soulmate wasn’t a thought on his mind.

That was until that March night.

He had been close friends with you since the end of the first trimester of the first year at school. Having Hero Work so frequently together only strengthened his friendship with you, and when he saw his name appear on his wrist, the reality of his lie came at full force.

Shouto should have known, he’d never been lucky in life. His soulmate both knew of his lie and was someone important in his life. Shouto didn’t know how to respond as you stood before him in complete euphoria. There was a serene look on your face as you seemed ready to give him anything.

But he panicked.

His feelings -- his love -- for Momo were too strong, and he had long ago said fuck what the universe wanted. So, like a fool, he denied you. Rejected a soulmate as Momo’s had done to her. But you were relentless, albeit correctly so at that, and burned away all the reasonings he had for this predicament. Your eyes inflamed, your energy wild, and Shouto made the mistake of lashing out as well. Submitting to his own emotions and saying things he regrets.

So currently, Shouto found himself in Momo’s room as routine. Sitting on her chair, he was silent as his girlfriend chatted about her dream. She then went on about how hopeful she was that you would have your soulmate’s name on your wrist. Shouto wasn’t listening though, his eyes locked on your name, the most twisted reality was coming to life and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Okay, but my foundation is almost out so we need to go buy some later,” Momo announced as she walked over to him, the permanent marker in her fingers. “I know we tested out the new pen last time, did it work…” Her voice trailed off and Shouto looked up at her.

She had seen it.

“Oh, my god!” Momo panics as she drops the pen. “W-What are we going to do?!”

Shouto looks up at Momo, his face as confused as hers, “I… I don’t know?”

“Where you still with her when she found out?”

Shouto groaned as he put his face in his hands and dropped his head.

“Shouto…”

Shouto looked up at her, his face full of guilt and told Momo exactly what had transpired. Her face only grew in anxiety and a look of guilt exploded within her eyes.

“I can’t believe you told y/n that!” Momo cried as she shook her head. “You probably destroyed her! She’s your soulmate, Shouto! I would have understood!”

“But I promised you that I would be yours.” Shouto whispers. His head feels like it’s ready to explode. He wants to be with Momo but everything within him yearns for you.

Duty versus love.

Which was more important to Shouto had never been touched before, and now it was making his head split.

“I want to try with her, but I don’t want to just leave you… and the class thinks we’re soulmates!” Shouto groans even more as his fingers clutch at his hair. “We fucked up.”

“We can figure things out later?” Momo suggests with a confused face. “We need to discuss this more before we make a final decision.”

Shouto found himself unable to keep his eyes off of you from that moment on.

Your wrist was clear of his name, and he watched as other boys in the class continue to flirt with you. Shouto noticed every fake smile, every moment where you weren’t being truthful about your feelings, and it made him feel like throwing up.

You were everywhere all at once, and Shouto could only watch.

It didn’t help that you absolutely hated his guts now. Every single private interaction had you fifty steps ahead of him. Your steps light as a feather yet felt like an earthquake as you denied him the chance at looking at you.

Shouto found himself in Momo’s room with his decision one morning. The morning that ended with you telling him to forget all about you.

“I want y/n,” Shouto whispered to Momo. “I know I said I was going to stay with you, but… I can’t do this to her anymore. I thought I was sure about you but is missing your soulmate this hard?”

Momo was silent as she rubbed his back, her fingers stiff and foreign. Since your birthday they hadn’t been able to be comfortable around each other anymore.

“Well,” Momo whispers with her lips pursed. “I had you to distract me, it made it so much… more bearable. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them any less, but you have me enough love and attention it wasn’t always in my thoughts.”

That sent a painful twang to his heart as Shouto groaned, yet another heated line to your argument was true. He had fucked you over and now you didn’t want a single thing to do with him. “I fucked up.” He rustles.

“We both did, I owe y/n the biggest apology, I just hope she’ll forgive us,” Momo mumbles. “And I know that the situation is awful timing, but my soulmate reached out to me last night, and well… they’re coming back.”

Despite the bittersweet feeling of that revelation, Shouto smiled for his friend as he pulled her into a hug.

“I’m happy for you,” Shouto says. “I hope that you’ll be happy.”

Momo sobs and Shouto pulls away to see the heiress rubbing tears away as she shakes her head.

“I should have just dealt with it! I wouldn’t have put you into this situation and you would have been happy! It was just six m-months! I could have dealt with six m-months of h-heartbreak!” She guilty cried into her hands.

“I was the one who did the most damage,” Shouto disagrees as he rubs her back softly. “At the end of the day, it was me.”

It was hard for him to admit it but as he said those words Shouto felt the need to prove to you that he was your soulmate. A soulmate you could love.

He was going to win you back, no matter how long it took.

The next day was their graduation, and for the first time ever both Shouto and Momo wore their true soulmates names on their wrist. It just so happened that no one noticed, and before Shouto could confront you, you were gone.

His school uniform, a proud symbol of where he was from and of his journey, wilted. The second button on his jacket broken and in his hand. It was to be a gesture to you, the sign that you held his heart, but you were gone. The worst part was that he had no idea where to begin looking for you.

It seemed that the universe was not in his favor either.

You had blocked his number, no longer lived at home, and Miruko was no longer working in collusion with Endeavor.

He wasn’t sure where you were and no one would give him any hints. The birthday celebrations for his old friends were always attended by everyone, but you. The one he missed you showed up to. It was a constant reminder of his tragedy, and it was the same for Momo.

You wouldn’t let him get near and the first time he saw you, it was in a situation he didn’t want, and yet couldn’t blame you for.

Shouto was running late to Kirishima’s party. He had accidentally fallen asleep at his desk at work and woke up to it being nearly midnight. Cursing he changed quickly and rushed to where Momo was hosting the party. Tonight was the night where he was going to get you to talk to him. He was going to confront his mistakes, and for him to apologize for being one of the biggest douches on the planet.

When the taxi pulled outside of the house Shouto clutched his present close to him. His anxiety high, his heart pounding at the thought of finally being able to see you.

But the first thing he saw were two figures kissing sensually on the doorsteps. He didn’t need to wonder who it was, he could point you out in a crowd of imposters.

Shouto watched in silent jealousy and horror as you pulled away, and your face shines with joy.

You were happy.

Shouto watches with swinging emotions as he can’t figure out whether to be happy, mad, jealous, or sad. Did he have a right to any of these emotions? God, he knew he didn’t but they were stirring within him.

Paralyzed and overwhelmed, Shouto continues staring at you, unable to figure out why the fuck Kaminari is touching you like that. Your head leaning against his shoulder as your fingers play with his hands.

It takes everything within him not to freeze the world into the next Ice Age, but the feeling disappears when Kaminari glows a bright white.

Shouto can’t help the small victory that erupts in his chest as he begins to walk over, his mind on a single track of getting you back. You and Kaminari seem immersed in a conversation so that you both don’t notice Shouto.

He stood there, hearing from you about how you had been hiding your soulmate, and Kaminari talking about staying with you. It angered him, this shouldn’t have been a thing to happen to begin with!

So when his name was finally spoken, and you told Kaminari to shut up, did Shouto finally speak up. But it wasn’t the conversation or tone Shouto wished for. He was angry still, emotionally stunted as he couldn’t keep quiet. Your comments about this being a mistake piled up onto his emotional horror. His anger palpitating as he wanted to say what he had been rehearsing, but it wasn’t coming out.

Blame and anger were what was expressed instead. Hurtful things pouring from each other’s mouths and accusations of not waiting.

You had been angry about something that had happened seven months ago. Shouto thought it was about you hiding away from him, not an engagement ring that sat on Momo’s finger. But when that was revealed to him it was too late to apologize. The deception Momo and he had pulled months earlier was revealed as you left with the last laugh.

Nothing had been accomplished, and Shouto felt like the world was crashing around him once more. He kept fucking up… why was he so bad at this?

Shouto wanted you, he needed you; still, whenever he confronted you it seemed to end in a battle.

Even tonight as he stood under the falling snow watching your figure storm away he paused. He wanted to make things work, but you weren’t bending to his pleas.

He shivered due to the cold, his eyes looking at your name printed on his wrist. Shouto couldn’t blame you for behaving the way you were, and with one final resolve he took after you in the snowy environment.

Even if you didn’t want him back, even if you truly rejected him, he was going to make you listen to his apology.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You climbed the staircase into your apartment, the sounds of your shoes echoing through the hallways were loud in your ear.

Why was it that you couldn’t get away from him? Why were you never able to be free of your goddamn soulmate? You didn’t want him and he didn’t want you so why did it matter?

You pushed through the third-floor door and your ears caught onto the main floor door slamming open. Someone was in a rush, you thought as you walked down the halls pulling out your keys and entering your apartment.

It was a hot tea and bath night. You wanted to rub his touch off your body.

Fuck the universe and everything it claimed, you weren’t happy with who they had chosen for you. What made them so sure you and Todoroki of all people were destined lovers?

What made him perfect for you?

You slipped your key into the lock and stepped in. The door clicked behind you as you take off your shoes, saying hello to an empty apartment that was still littered with your moving boxes. You didn’t even have that many belongings, but you had been too busy to start unpacking, too unmotivated to begin.

The apartment was warm and you slipped your jacket from your shoulders and hung it on a hook. Ready to end your night with a cup of tea and a nice soak in the bath, you turned on your heel.

But you stopped.

A frantic knock echoed through your hallway, your front door physically moving from the pounding.

Your eyebrows knit as you walk over to the door, your guard up as you open the door.

It’s Todoroki, his eyes widen as you open the door, and his hand flying out as you try slamming the door in his face.

“Please hear me out!”

“I don’t have to give you shit!”

“Y/n--!”

“Stop! I don’t fucking want to hear it!”

“I want to say sorry!”

“I said I don’t want to hear it!”

“I know you don’t, but -- fuck -- y/n, please!”

You hate that the desperation, pain, and sincere guilt in his voice makes your constitution crumble.

Sighing, you open the door, and Todoroki pulls his hand away. It’s slightly bleeding and most likely bruised from having been trapped by the door.

“You have ten minutes to explain yourself, and after that, you will respect what I want to do concerning you.”

Todoroki walks into your apartment, and you watch as he walks to your living room. You follow behind and sit down on the chair furthest away from him.

“You have eight minutes.” You say as you sit down, your legs pulled up on the chair, your chin sitting on your knees.

Todoroki nodded, his fingers clenching with his nerves as he began.

You listened to every word, every excuse, and every reason for what happened.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as his apology became a speech. His apology was a story that you knew was coming.

Months of wondering what made him choose Momo unraveling before you as he apologized. His fingers locked into his pant legs as you stared at him.

“I know I fucked up. I fucked up more than anyone really could, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Shouto dragged his fingers through his hair, a clear indication of his frustrations. “I know that my apology can be seen as something you can see as being pure guilt, but I want to go back. I want to go back to that night and yell at myself for being an idiot. I shouldn’t have rejected you, and I should have done more to get you back but I didn’t. I just can’t stop thinking about you, and I want you, but I know it isn’t right of me to demand such things.”

Your eyes fall away from his face as you try to figure out your own thoughts.

What should you do? What can you do?

You were becoming happy without him, why did you need him now?

“What are you expecting from this?” You whisper staring at him. Shouto’s eyes widen, he wasn’t expecting that question, and eight minutes had been up ages ago. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t expect anything,” Shouto confesses, his eyes looking at the floor. “I apologized for myself, as you said. I’m not expecting you to forgive me or give me a chance at winning you over again. I know I messed up a lot, and if you don’t want me that’s okay.”

You fall silent, your mind roaring as you try to figure out what to do.

What should you do?

“I can forgive you,” you said with a soft sigh. “I can forgive you, but I won’t be your girlfriend, nor will I be romantically involved with you.”

Shouto’s face falls as he takes in your words.

“Y/n--” 

“Let me finish,” you interrupt as you raise your hand. “If you want my name to turn to gold, and if you want my genuine love, you have to work for it. Just because the universe chose you for me, doesn’t mean I agree. Make me agree with the universe. Fight for me, woo me, make me want you in return. I’m willing to love you for the rest of my life, but you need to give me a reason to want you.”

Shouto’s eyes warmed as he nodded, a smile falling on his face as he nodded.

“I can do that.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Bonus!

Your arms wrapped around Shouto’s neck as you grinned.

Your mouth pressed kiss after kiss after kiss on his mouth.

“You’re. An. Idiot.” Shouto laughs between every kiss, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs as he had you lifted up on his waist.

It was a year later, and the mess that had come about for the two of you had finally dissolved. The two of you were in love, and yet those words had yet to be told between the two of you,

You hadn’t said it because you still weren’t sure. Shouto refused to before you because he was scared of how you’d respond.

Your mouth moved fluidly against his as he hummed in appreciation.

“I love you,” He whispers as your lips pressed against his jaw.

You freeze as you feel Shouto still underneath you. You pull away as your heart pounds in your chest. It's silent as neither one of you speak. Eyes lock on each other and your smile grows as you press a kiss against his mouth again.

“I love you, too,” you whisper as he drops you to the floor. His hands cup your face and it brings you elation as his mouth pressed against yours.

Neither one of you sees it at the moment, but as his sleeve falls from his wrist and your wrist is exposed as you clutch his shirt, gold ink stains both your wrists.

True love after the pain is possible, sometimes it takes a bit of personal improvement to get there.

[joezworld]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Next from the mind of Joe - a Sudrian tale about The Most Wonderful Time of The Year, Past and Present.

Ghosts of the Past 

Wendell the works diesel was a very happy engine most of the time, but around Christmas, he always seemed... well, quite unhappy, for lack of a better term. 

Because he lived in the Crovan’s Gate Works, which shut down for the last two weeks of December except in emergencies, most engines never saw this side of the otherwise cheerful blue diesel, and those that did assumed that it was due to him being shut up in the works over the holidays, away from his friends. 

December 24, 2019

Gordon sighed as the workmen rolled the door shut behind them. Of all the days to fail! He thought to himself with irritation. Christmas Eve! Damn that replacement fireman and his improper training! I shall miss Christmas and New Year’s!

A quiet snore behind him brought him out of his ruminations. Wendell was fast asleep behind him, lifted into the air on jackstands in one of the maintenance bays, with one of his traction motors in pieces around him. 

Gordon was surprised. Wendell had the same excitable temperament as Thomas and James, and Gordon would have assumed that the works diesel would be up until the crack of dawn, waiting for Father Christmas. To see him asleep before eight at night was out of character, to say the least. 

Although, the express engine thought as he settled in for the night, he might be onto something. 

The works were warm - almost toasty when compared to the biting December winds outside, and the excess holiday traffic had meant that all the engines on the Island were feeling exhausted by the 25th. 

Furthermore, with no other engines to keep him awake by asking inane questions about ‘what Father Christmas might bring’, Gordon might actually wake up decently rested on Christmas morning, and wouldn’t that be a miracle?

Electing to follow Wendell’s lead, Gordon shut his eyes, and quickly fell asleep. 

-

Have yourself, a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light. From now on, all our troubles will be out of sight...

Gordon stumbled back to wakefulness to the sounds of singing. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he looked around the works in confusion. 

It was still dark outside, and a digital time clock by the break room showed 23:38 on its face. He hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours. 

Searching for the source of the singing, his eyes eventually landed on Wendell, who was slowly singing an old carol to himself. 

“It’s a bit early for singing, isn’t it?” He called across the room jovially - there was no need to be rude so close to Christmas. “We’ve still got half an hour!” 

Wendell started, clearly unaware that Gordon was awake. “What?” 

“It’s a bit early to be singing, Christmas isn’t for a half hour!” 

“Oh.” The diesel said morosely. “I suppose it is.” 

That was not the reaction Gordon expected.   “You suppose it is? Wendell, it’s Christmas Eve - a time for good cheer and goodwill among us all! How can you be so glum?”

“I don’t like Christmas.” The class 47 said simply. 

“What?” Gordon said with faux outrage. "What did the holiday ever do to you? Did you get coal in your stocking?”

“I have bad memories of Christmases past, okay?” Wendell snapped, sucking the levity out of the room.  

Gordon’s face fell. “My apologies.” He’d thought that the diesel was being difficult, not having an actual emotional event. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No,” Wendell looked pained. “But staying silent hasn’t helped either.”

Without waiting for Gordon to respond, he began his story:

December 24, 1981.

They retired the Deltics at the end of ‘81. All through December and November, they’d run them ‘til they failed, then sent them off to Doncaster to be cut up. I think the ones that survived were retired in January or something - I wasn’t around to find out. 

I was waiting, at York, I think it was? - No, it was actually Doncaster, I remember now. 

Anyways, I was waiting - I’d brought in a fast goods up to this yard from London, and I was going to take a rake of old coaches that were being transferred to a new Depot to the west.

The coaches were coming in on the night express, and it was getting later and later and still the train didn’t come. The men were readying me to go out and rescue the train when it finally limped into sight. It was a Deltic, being towed along by a Class 37. The poor thing had failed halfway out of London, and they’d just hauled it along with the train, because they sent the 55s to Doncaster anyway when the end came. 

And they just dumped the train there on a bay platform - backed the consist in so the 37 could be taken off, and then just left it there. 

“That’s terrible,” Gordon said. “To be left like that. Especially on Christmas Eve.”

Oh yes. And it managed to get worse: it was so late by the time that they got in that my crew had gone home! So I was just left there on a siding until boxing day, right across from the Deltic - who had blocked in my coaches too! 

And,

and,

And she doesn’t say a word for almost the entire day after her crew left her. She said goodbye to them, wished them a Merry Christmas - which I am still shocked by to this day - that she was able to do that without crying, and then said nothing all night or the next day - Christmas day. 

Wendell paused to collect himself. Gordon noticed, but didn’t say anything about the tears beading up in the diesel engine’s eyes.

She was totally silent, until maybe a bit after eleven that night? Probably right about what time it is now, actually. And, there was a family, who was walking home from some party - and they had a radio on as they were walking by the station, and all you could hear in the bleak, snow-covered station was the Sinatra version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. 

And then, the Deltic - who hasn’t said a word to me all day, just slowly opens her eyes and says “I love that song”, and then just closes her eyes again. 

*sniff*

The next day, my driver had me pull the Deltic to the out of use line before we took the coaches. 

I pushed her in between three rows of her sisters and brothers, all covered with snow and ready to be cut up, and then backed away. Just before I’m out of sight, she opens her eyes, and starts singing that damn song to me. 

it

It

*sniff*

It echoed through the yard, and I could hear it until we left. I think a few of the other Deltics started too. 

They had beautiful singing voices.  

-

2019

“It wasn’t your fault, Wendell.” Gordon wished that he could offer more comfort than that. 

“I know.” Wendell said after a moment. “That’s not why I hate this time of year.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow. “Then what is?”

“It’s that I could have done more.” Wendell said, tears streaming silently down his face. “We - we were running late as it is - my engine was cold and wouldn’t turn over. My second man and the signalman just wanted me to take the Deltic with me so I wouldn’t miss my path - and then stick her on the back of the next goods train to Doncaster when I got to wherever I was going.”

He paused, his voice thick with guilt. “But, I had just spent two days next to this - this- this living corpse, and I didn’t want to be that close to her for that long. And I didn’t know any better - I was fourteen years old at that point - BR could do no wrong in my eyes, and if they wanted me to shunt that engine to the out of use lines, then shunt her I would. So when my driver said that my second man was daft, and the signalman was dafter - I - i - I didn’t argue.” 

“Wendell -” Gordon began. 

“I’m not finished.” The diesel cut him off. “Don’t offer me sympathy just yet.”

He continued. “And I didn’t want her with me, because I didn’t know where I was going! It was some obscure coach depot that I’d never heard of before - what kind of a name is Tidmouth, anyways?.” 

The penny dropped in Gordon’s mind. “You didn’t come to Sodor in January of ‘82, did you?” 

“December 31, 1981.” Wendell said sadly. “I came here on an empty stock move and got asked to stay forever, because The Fat Controller thought I looked like a useful engine. Imagine what he would have done if I’d dragged a wounded Deltic along with me?”

He would have kept the both of you and told BR to go hang. Gordon didn’t need to vocalize that thought - he could see in Wendell’s eyes that he was thinking the same thing. 

There was a small *chime* from the digital clock on the wall - it’s red numerals now read 00:00. 

“Would you look at that,” Said Wendell bitterly. “Happy Christmas, Gordon. Did you ask Father Christmas for anything?”

“Not this year, no.”

“Maybe it’s for the best - he never gives me anything either.”

“What do you ask for?”

“The chance to do it all over again. To agree with my second man and the signalman.”

“Wendell, as crass as this may sound, but perhaps you need to move-”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Wendell looked pained. “For most of the year, my troubles are miles away, and my heart is light.

But for right now Gordon, please don’t ask me to have myself a merry little Christmas night.” With that, the Works Diesel closed his eyes and fell asleep. 

Gordon - more than a little stunned by the night’s developments, took quite a bit longer to fall asleep - the digits on the clock reading 02:10 before he began to nod off. 

His last thoughts before he finally went to sleep were directed at Father Christmas: 

I don’t know if you’re real, and I don’t know if you can do what the children claim that you can - but please help Wendell.

-------

December 26, 1981

55 010 was barely conscious. There didn’t seem much point to it now - she’d meet her end whether she was awake or asleep, wouldn’t she? 

The 47 had shoved her into the sidings between Ballymoss and Highlander, but they were long gone mentally. A few of her family had been able to join in the singing, but most were nothing more than cold, dead metal. 

She supposed that she might have had a name once, but she'd forgotten it - BR had taken away everything else, so it was only fair that she got to take something as well. 

The yard was silent for a few hours, until an engine approached from the end of the line. It looked like the same 47.

--

Wendell was having the dream again. He was back in the dead lines at Doncaster, rolling among the silent locomotives like a spectre. He knew where he would eventually end up, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it - right in front of 55 010. 

If he was lucky, she wouldn’t start singing again. 

If he wasn’t, well, Gordon had already seen him cry once tonight. 

He rolled over the points at the end of the siding, his wheels screeching against the old rails as he trundled down the long line of dead Deltics - somehow there had been two long rows with an empty line in the middle - perfect for a long and heart-wrenching approach to a diesel that he’d condemned to death.

The engine’s eyes opened slightly as he drew near. 

“Weren’t you just here?” She said dreamily.

“Probably.” He whispered - she’d never spoken to him before. 

“Why have you come back?” Her voice drove into him like a cutter’s torch. That she didn’t even seem accusatory made it all the worse. 

“Because I’m sorry.” He said, voice barely audible. 

“Whatever for?” 

“For putting you here.” He didn’t stop rolling until his buffers were fractions of an inch away from hers. 

“You didn’t do that. I failed. I know why I’m here.”

“But I did. I could have taken you - taken you away from here. To Sodor. They would have saved you.” He was openly sobbing now.

The Deltic had opened her eyes fully, and was looking at him not with anger, hatred, or even pity, but instead downright bafflement. “What do you mean ‘would have’? I’m not going anywhere.”

Wendell tried to explain - to tell her that she was a figment of his imagination, that she should hate him, or be angry, or something...Anything...

But instead he broke down crying, his sobs echoing across the works yard. 

-

010 stared at the 47 in total confusion. Nothing about the last few minutes made any sense, least of all the grief(?)-stricken engine in front of her. 

At a total loss for what to do, she remembered something that Alycidon would do when someone in the shed needed to be calmed down. 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Alycidon might have used Vera Lynn, but had always stressed that the emotion of the song was more important than the lyrics. 010 sang the song low and slow like a lullaby - cribbed from seeing hundreds of mothers calming their babies on station platforms. Each verse took much longer than normal, but it was very soothing. 

Let your heart be light

The 47 began mumbling the lyrics of the songs through his tears

From now on, all our troubles will be out of sight

Neither engine noticed the sparkling white mist pooling around their wheels

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

The 47 stopped openly weeping, but kept singing with his eyes shut.

Make the yule-tide gay

The sparkling mist was now encircling both engines completely. 

From now on, our troubles will be miles away...

The mist covered both engines entirely. As the word ‘away’ faded in the wind, the mist dissipated. Neither engine remained. 

Silence fell over Doncaster once more. 

-----

December 25, 2019

Here were are as in olden days

Gordon awoke to more singing. He mentally groaned and cracked an eye open, assuming that Wendell would once again need a friendly ear in the middle of the night. 

Happy golden days of yore

Sunlight was streaming in through the windows. Perhaps Wendell had managed to sleep through the night. 

Faithful friends who are dear to us

Gordon’s other eye slammed open as he realized that the singer was female. 

“Gather near to us onc-What on earth?!” The singer abruptly stopped singing. 

Gordon looked around wildly for the source of the voice, his eyes practically spinning around in their sockets before landing on -

on-

on- a Deltic. 

A Deltic who had been singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. 

“Excuse me,” he said in what he hoped was a calm tone. “But who are you?”

The Deltic opened her mouth to speak, and was cut off by Wendell, who had opened both of his eyes, realized that he was back in the works, discovered who was in the works with him, and began screaming so loudly that he fell off of the jack stands and crashed to the floor. 

The resulting clamour brought the Works’ security officer, who saw the engine that hadn’t been there last night, and called The Fat Controller. 

--

Stephen Hatt was experiencing many different emotions, most of them at the same time. 

The baffling appearance of previously-scrapped Deltic in his works - in factory fresh condition no less! - with no sign of how she got there, was not how he wanted to spend Christmas morning. 

Even more baffling was the story that Wendell, Gordon and the Deltic told him - none of which made any sense whatsoever. 

“Maybe it’s a Christmas Miracle?” His wife suggested over the phone. 

“Yes, and maybe I’m secretly the Easter Bunny.” He said back to her. “I’m not looking forward to finding out who this engine belongs to.”

“You can do that after Christmas dinner, dear.” Helen said in a tone that meant there would be repercussions if he wasn’t home ASAP. 

Hanging up the phone, he took another look towards the Deltic. Something was wrapped around its buffer...

Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be an elegant piece of red silk, tied into a bow, and a note. 

The note was done on heavy, cream coloured paper, and the text seemed to have been done with an old fashioned dip pen. 

Dear Wendell,

I apologize for the late delivery of your present, but I hope you understand that some presents require more work than others. Hopefully this will ease your slumber. 

Santa Claus. 

Stephen goggled at the note for a moment, before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone so he could take a picture. His fingers didn’t close around his phone, instead grasping a small round object. 

Pulling it out of his pocket, he was shocked to see that he was holding a small, but beautifully decorated Easter Egg. 

[ziracona]

claud/jake/dwight anon here! maybe i’ll just go by wisteria since i’ll be popping up in your askbox from time to time :D

shippy hcs would be wonderful! i was referring to them as an established poly relationship post fic; i actually saw the comment where you were talking about how claudette can fit into different relationships and thought that was so fitting (and such a testament to the beauty of her character, but thats another long winded ask to send another day). once again, thanks for putting out ILM into this world. it’s a joy to read, reread, and treasure <3

Alrighty Wisteria! 

Also I’m glad because I initially read it that way and was halfway to answering when I was like ‘wait,’ but my instincts were correct haha.

Claudette/Jake/Dwight is an interesting poly ship. It’s funny, because obviously both of them love her and she loves both of them. Just, I don’t think her priority has ever been having a romantic relationship, and neither has theirs. I also think it just kind of...wouldn’t occur to Dwight or Jake that that was a thing. Like, they know about polyamoury, they know it exists. But I feel like straight up there’d like, be an escape anniversary party or something, and she gives them both super heart felt gifts she clearly loved to make, and they’re both touched, give hugs, pass her their own sweetly made things, last little group hug, she’s like “Love you guys” and as she runs off to go give out other gifts to other loved ones, Jake’s super sincerely like “You too,” and Dwight’s like *looks at him, looks at her, smiles* “Yeah. Love you.” and she’s gone, and someone who they were chatting with before (probably Meg, Nea, or Ace) would joke something like “Why didn’t you two just also marry Claudette? You’d be such a happy trio” casually offhand, and they’d be like “Haha yeah!  ... ... ... haha...yeah.... ? (O_O);” type thing that would have to happen, because otherwise they just like, wouldn’t think about it. 

Once they did, though, I feel like it would definitely be the same event that clued them both in, so they’d both be like “Hmmm” at the same time, and pick up on that, and talk first, and be like “...Yeah, I mean. Maybe? But would she even be comfortable with that? Is it weird?” And Jake, who has the most secure identity in this area, would not really have any issue from the get-go and would mostly be like “Boy am I stupid for this never occurring to me once”. Dwight would need more time to think and talk stuff through and figure himself out, but is a lot more comfortable than he was. Claudette would be the last one. They’d both approach her at some point, and it would be incredibly awkward and kind of a disaster despite the fact they practiced and thought they had a gameplan, and she’s just like, “What? ...What?” and confused, and she’s a very worry-prone person, so she’d be like “Oh no, did I do something? Is this bad? Do they just feel bad for me? Since I’m not dating and they want me to feel included? Is this a bad idea? What do I even actually want?” and since she’s got the least experience dating, she’d take the longest to think things through. Would talk to Meg, and Quentin, and Philip, and her parents, and Ace. And they’d all help, but Meg would be the most help. Because Meg’s simple. She’d just say, “Well, do you want to be dating them both?” and Claudette would be like, “Well. I don’t know. I love them. And it might be nice to have a romantic relationship with someone I love someday. But I don’t know if this is how I want that, or if it would be good, because I have no idea what this would look or feel like,” and Meg would be like, “Well then why don’t you just like, go on a few dates/hangs like you’re dating, and see if it’s fun and good, or uncomfortable and bad, and if you three all feel like it fits and makes life even better, go for it, and if it turns out to be a mistake like that time Jake and I really thought we’d get some hella traction making out, then say ‘Well that was awful lol. Friends it is!’ and Susie and I will take all of you for drunk lazer-tag.”

And that works, because well, it’s more sensible than any amount of introspection without experience, or thinking, or worrying is. So they give it a go for like a week, and it’s awkward as hell for like the first fifteen minutes, but this is a trio of people who’ve known each other so long and been so fundamentally entrenched in each others’ lives for years, and love and trust each other so completely and deeply, it really can’t be that awkawrd, and everyone has prepped best they can, and kind of laugh at themselves, and just like, spend the day at theme park, and get food, and laugh and talk about life like always, but just this time with a kind of romantic shade, and it’s nice. And there’s a lot of days like that--not all so big, more just, at home, hanging out, doing whatever. And it is weird, because none of them has done this before, but. It’s also fun. And none of them have any weird kind of favoritism insecurities, because they were already pretty well and equally entrenched in each others’ lives before, and it’s fun. Jake is strategic because he’s kind of the planning mind behind this, and gets advice from Meg, and they marathon a lot of Leverage with only Jake knowing this is a sneaky ploy to help the other two get more comfortable, because there’s just not a ton of good filmic poly trio rep, but damn if that show hasn’t got a great one. 

I think the trial period just kind of hits the end of it’s week and Jake and Dwight are like “So do you want to keep going?” and she’s like “...Yeah. : ) “ and so they do, and it’s like that for a while. They all move at their own paces, and in their own clearly discussed (and, as well as they know each other, usually already mostly known) comfort zones, and it’s fun, and nice. It also helps that everyone else is not just supportive and chill, but most of them are like, goofily into it.

They’ve been dating for like, four months before any of them explicitly calls it that officially. But it’s cute. Jake wants it to be official so he gets people anniversary gifts and then is kind of embarrassed but more pleased with himself, and it’s very cute and goes over well.

Everyone puts in work to figuring out how to keep this healthy and good, since none of them had a lot of preexisting knowledge for being with multiple people. They all do that their own way. Claudette spends hours and hours doing research online and checking for tips from people online, and really works hard to be a good girlfriend, and it’s very sweet. Meg and especially Quentin both have no real idea how to help her, but clock a lot of hours trying and doing pretty good. So secondarily do Nancy and Susie.

I’m pretty sure eventually they’d have another wedding, legally official or not--and not because any of them really feel a need to, but because they think it would be fun and Claudette should get to dress up too, and tbh it would be cute. I feel like Meg, Ace, and Susie are major factors pushing for this. 

All of their parents think it’s a little weird, but their kids were missing for like 4 years getting tortured in hell, and they’re all reasonable people; they don’t say shit. Also, they all like all the other parties involved, so they’re like “Rat’s don’t understand these things” (this is a Muppet Christmas Carol inside joke I use all the time even though only like 4 people get it but I hope it makes some sense from context lol), but figure they don’t really have to to be happy their kids are happy and loved and doing well.

Meg is like “Fuck why didn’t we think of this. Why have I been supporting it when I could have nabbed her for me and Susie?” and Quentin doesn’t say shit but he thinks very loudly, “I know, right? Nancy and me are over here like ‘same hat’ fml,” but genuinely they’re very happy for the three of them and with the relationships they have. There’s just a lot of love to go around.

While there’s probably some kind a wedding eventually, definitely about as soon as they start dating, Jake and Dwight start calling her their wife. She’s flustered and like “But I’m note! I’m just your girlfriend.” and Dwight’s like “Yeah, but that makes it sound weirdly unbalanced,” and Jake who looked this up for this moment is like, “Well, by Quebec common law marriage standards, you actually are our wife--we cohabitated for over three years in the realm, so,” and Dwight’s like “whoa for real?” and she’s just like : o   But it kinda helps and she accepts it. The downside is Nea hears the story and tells Meg and together they start just fuckin calling all their realm friends their spouses goofily 24/7 when they want shit like “David, my wonderful strong husband, can you pleeeeease get me a sodie from the fridge? : D <3″ and it’s very funny but it’s also pure chaos. Like, so much more than usual.

[hoppe-ideas]

4th of July

Reposting bc the first one didn’t gain much traction. It was hastily written after 4th of July and barely had any proof reading. Also, some of y’all want to read what I write.

Characters: Thomas, Virgil, Janus, Logan, Roman, Remus, Patton

Ships: DRLAMPT (Romantic or Platonic, they all live together in a giant house) Analogical (Very slightly, if you squint)

Warnings: I don’t know, Virgil gets upset, panic attack, crying. Tell me if i miss something.

Summary: Virgil normally loves the holidays, just not this one.

Virgil loved the holidays, he loved the food, the chaos, the laughter, and everything in between. Even the fighting was enjoyable to watch, the scuffles in the living room, and the little food fights in the kitchen. He loved the smell of Christmas, the energy of halloween, the serenity of Easter and St. Patrick's day, the fullness in his chest and belly during thanksgiving, and the crazy fortitude of new years eve. The one holiday though, the only holiday he does not love, not even like, is independence day. Otherwise known as 4th of July.

If anyone asked Virgil why he doesn’t like this specific holiday, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He didn’t know why he didn’t like it, every year it was the same; Patton would bbq, Roman and Remus would decorate, Logan and Janus would set up the fireworks. One time they let the twins take control of the fireworks and almost burned down the place. Normally Virgil would help Thomas set the bonfire up, or decorate, or help Patton, or Janus, but today he didn’t want any part of it. He just wanted to drink some coffee and listen to some tunes, but apparently Roman had other plans. Virgil didn’t even finish half his coffee, or his song before Roman snatched him away, taking his headphones away as well. 

Immediately Virgil’s arms were full of bright reds and blues to be placed all over the place, the sunlight didn’t make it any better, shining right in his eyes. It wouldn’t be as bad if he had his headphones, but Roman took them away and now he got the pleasure of listening to the twins sing the entire soundtrack of Hamilton; “In honor of our founding fathers!” Roman declared right before Remus pushed him off the step ladder. After a few hours of decorating, Virgil went to find his headphones and a cold cup of coffee. 

Why waste good coffee? Virgil grabbed a cup filled with ice and dumped the coffee into the cup making iced coffee. He was about to finish listening to his song when Patton came into the kitchen.

“Oh perfect! Virgil i need your help with the food, we’ll be needing watermelon and cantaloupe cut up, the baked beans need to be cooked, lemonade to be made, salads to be tossed, cakes to be made, and i still need to prep the meat for the bbq tonight.” Patton grabbed two aprons, one yellow one for himself and a royal purple for Virgil. Without time to intervene Patton placed it on Virgil and took the headphones away once again. “No music, I need to be able to talk to you while cooking. No distractions.” At least he got to keep his coffee this time. 

Patton talked to him the entire time, non stop talking and directions left and right of how to cook and make everything. Once the cake was in the oven, melon cut, beans cooked, and salad tossed; Patton had finished prepping the meat and said he could do the rest and thanked Virgil. Virgil looked at the time, it was nearing three thirty in the afternoon, as hungry as he was he finished his coffee two hours ago and was now tired. He decided a small nap on the couch would be perfect. That is until Logan came in looking for Virgil asking for his assistance.

“Shouldn’t be too long, we just need some help setting up the fireworks in a safe place away from the bonfire and twins.” Virgil sighed into the pillow and got up to help Janus and Logan, everything was set up until Janus muttered a few curse words along with Remus’s name.

“That bastard, he got into the fireworks and took some, we don’t have enough. Virgil can you go grab some more for us? Logan and I can finish up here, thank you.” Virgil set out to get more fireworks which proved more socially demanding than normal. Too many people, screaming kids, angry Karens’, and a long line for last minute fireworks. It took nearly an hour to just grab what they needed and returned home. The house they all shared looked like America threw up on it, no thanks to him and the twins. Logan greeted him, taking the fireworks while conducting small talk. Once they got to the backyard, Patton was bbq-ing, roman was lounging in the sun, Janus was fighting Remus away from the fireworks they set up, and the bonfire stayed empty. 

“Hey! Panic at the everywhere, are you going to start the bonfire or what?” Virgil turned towards Roman and shook his head.

“Not until Thomas gets here with the wood, he said he would be picking some up after work.” Sadly Thomas didn’t have today off, he had to work at the production company he worked at. He was a commercial actor and they decided they wanted to get some holiday shots for a clothing ad. While taking the opportunity of peace, Virgil went back inside to try and find his headphones; there was only one problem. He couldn’t find them, not in the living room, or the kitchen, or the office, his bedroom, the bathroom, the twins room, hell even the closet. Instead of panicking, he took a few deep breaths and decided to check his room again. That was until Patton came to ask for his help setting up the table outside where they eat. 

Once he finished with that, Thomas’s truck pulled up and jogged over to Virgil, his smile was contagious as he asked for help with the bundles of wood. Sure from taking the firewood to the bonfire pit was only fifteen feet away but it was a lot of heavy wood to carry on a hot evening. Once that was all done, Thomas started the fire and Virgil had a raging headache that he could feel build up through out the day. Dinner was delicious, everyone thanked Patton and Virgil and dived in. The problem was that everyone was loud, laughter and arguments filled the air with distant fireworks blasting off. Remus gave a hollar every time one was especially loud, and it didn’t help that Remus sat next to Virgil, even splashing some lemonade on him.

After dinner was desert, which was cake and some s’mores by the fire. When everyone sat by the fire Virgil went back inside to take some medicine, he felt exhausted and irritated. He found the pill bottle but no pills. He could feel the headache turning into a migraine and a panic attack starting to settle as well. If he only had his headphones-

“Virgil?” He spun around to find Logan standing in the doorway of the bathroom, silence sat in the room only Virgil’s breathing can be heard.

“Is there something you need?” He meant to sound harsh, but it came out soft. 

“Yes, we are starting the fireworks but waiting on you.” Virgil shook his head and began shuffling around the medicine cabinet trying to find some more pills.

“You guys go on ahead, I'll skip it this year. Have you seen my headphones?” He asked while inspecting an expired bottle of Advil.

“Ah, no, i have not seen your headphones, but Patton is persistent on waiting for you. Just one firework and then you can return.” Virgil half listened while still rummaging through the cabinet, Logan grabbed his wrists and set them down. “Remus used all the headache medicine for a creative project, i was going to buy some more tomorrow. Just one firework and then you can leave, i’ll even help you find your headphones.” Virgil nodded and Logan led him outside hand in hand. Once outside, Patton bounded up to him wrapping an arm around him giggling for the fireworks to start. 

One firework turned into two, which turned into three, then five, then ten. He was holding a lit sparkler while everyone cheered at the colors in the sky. Virgil didn’t bother to look up, his eyes hurt, his head hurt, his body hurt, everything just hurt. Then the twins found the smoke bombs and lit every single one. Virgil felt suffocated, he didn’t realize he fell crying and screaming until everybody rushed him back inside. 

“Virgil? Virgil, buddy can you hear me?” Thomas’s voice was muddled, he felt heavy and he couldn’t stop shaking. His head hurt so much he cried harder, not realizing someone picked him up and placed him on the couch. He looked up through bleary eyes to see Patton holding his headphones to him, that right. Patton took them away when they were cooking and they must have forgotten about it. He placed them on his head playing soft calming music, he dug his head into the pillows of the couch sniffling softly.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He muttered wincing at his hoarse voice. He felt a weighted blanket be placed over him and the lights turned down low. Weight shifted around him as he suspected they sat down with him on their overly large couch.

“Virgil.” Janus’s voice cooed as he took off his headphones to silence, only off distant sounds of fireworks in the background. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Virgil shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. Which was a mistake because he whimpered from the pain.

“I ruined the fireworks.” He muttered he felt someone put an arm around him.

“Falsehood. You didn’t ruin anything. If anything we ruined today for you, you were the only one not having fun today.” Logans’ monotone voice soothed some tension from his shoulders, but the cuddles he was receiving some cuddles from everyone. Janus and Logan sat on each side of Virgil, the twins sat down by his feet, Thomas started to play The Black Cauldron, and Patton started to put everything away and went to go get some more medicine.

Virgil didn’t like the 4th of July, but he did love his family.

The End.

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Coffeegleek Day 1

Author : @coffeegleek​ 

How did you get into Glee and Glee fandom?

I saw the premier when it aired during the summer and was hooked. Having been burned by a fandom shortly before that, I tried to resist joining Glee fandom. Then about halfway through Glee airing routinely, I could resist no longer. I needed more. I needed the interaction with other fans that weren't immediate family. (Hub and son love the show, but were watchers and not into fandom.)

In general, what drew you into writing (and/or creating)?

I'd written for other fandoms before as well as a lot of original poetry and science fiction. One day I finally caved and co-wrote two crack Klaine fics. About a year or two later, I wrote more crack fics that got no traction on tumblr so I stopped writing for a long time. (I was and still am a small fish in a large fandom pond, though that pond has shrunk now that the show is long over.) Then a couple of years ago, my son left for university and I couldn't shake this one small fic idea I had about Burt and Carole as empty nesters. I had to get it out and it exploded into this huge verse. In-between those fics I wrote more crack fics.

What was it about Glee that made you decide to write fanfic for it?

Part of it was Kurt and Blaine being wonderful characters. Part of it was the joy of challenging myself as a writer be it serious stuff or Klaine advent challenges which are fun. Yet another part was to write fics I wanted to read or tropes I wanted to explore more.

Have you been a part of other fandoms before? Have you written fanfiction pre-glee?

Oh, yes! Many fandoms and many fics on many accounts I've long lost user names and passwords to. Out there on FFN is a Buffy/Farscape crossover and a couple of Pretender fanfics. Those are just three of the many fandoms I've been in. I met my spouse through Star Trek fandom and was involved in (and left) the very toxic Fox fandom board for the Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles fandom. (My fandom before Glee.)

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

AU is my crack and I love political Klaine be it Kurt and/or Blaine in politics or as President. I love the ones where Burt is president. Despite being a huge West Wing fan who's rewatched the series multiple times, I don't think I could do a Glee characters in that verse justice. I really wish I could though. Before the pandemic hit, a friend and I were going to do a Blast from the Past movie challenge where folks would write their favorite 1980's and 90's movies with Glee characters. I was all set to write Running on Empty and still have my notes for it.

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

A few. Certain kinks and especially those that involve fluids, marking, and mpreg. 

Another nope - Large age differences in a consenting relationship. To clarify with a personal experience of why it’s a huge no: There was a guy in my family’s social group who was in his late 60’s/early 70’s who would brag to hub and I (for some reason) about his conquestions with barely legal guys. The things he would say about even younger guys were creepy AF. My out gay son was nearing his preferred age and we (and son) kept Creepy Guy far away from him. No one believed us when we tried to tell them about him. So any kind of huge age gap is a big nope for me unless it’s written as a “this is wrong and not appropriate” because I can’t help but think of the guy everyone else had labeled as But He’s Such a Nice Guy. I’m not criticizing the authors or readers of consensual, everything is happy, large age gap fics. They’re just not for me and I accept my bias. 

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I want to finish writing/expanding a fic for my Empty Nest verse that takes place between A Nest of Scars and Empty Nest. I also have a few one shots between Kurt and Carole and Kurt and Burt that I keep writing in my head while cooking, but never getting them onto a google doc. I want to finish last year's Klaine Advent challenge fic entitled, A Very Weird Christmas Adventure. I was so close to being done and had it all figured out too. I'd also like to write the Running on Empty crossover fic. I love that movie so much. I'd love to tackle a Handmaid's Tale crossover, but haven't worked out enough of the logistics for it.

***

Check out Coffeegleek’s Fics

Empty Nest - Revised - Empty Nest started off as just this little thing I was going to write. The idea had been kicking around in my head for a year. There's a stray cat that's taken shelter under our front porch for years & runs whenever he sees us. When my son went off to university, I started thinking about what if the cat was really homeless, hybrid Kurt? And in October of 2017, I finally started to write what was going to be a ficlette & nothing more. It's now late January 2018 & the verse has grown to two fics, a series of Klaine Advent one shots, 98,442 words, & is still going.

When I reached chapter 12 of Rebuilding the Nest, I felt the time had finally come for me to revise the verse, especially Empty Nest, correct any errors I'd missed before, & clean up the time line inconsistencies. When I first started writing, I had no clear cut idea of how hybrids had come about or what they were like. I was just going with the usual trope flow. As chapters went on, I fell more & more back on my science fiction writing roots & established them as a single evolved race. That was my biggest change to Empty Nest & reason for the revision.

I hope you enjoy it.

Rebuilding the Nest -  Sequel to Empty Nest and takes place immediately after. Kurt is a runaway, homeless feline hybrid. Burt and Carole are empty nesters who see him sleeping under their porch. During the months that follow, Kurt slowly learns to trust them. Unlocking the door to the Hummel's enclosed back porch was a huge step. There were so many more left to go.

Burt's Nest -  This is a retelling of Empty Nest and Rebuilding the Nest from Burt’s POV. While it does stand alone, in order to fully understand Kurt’s actions and experiences, the original fics should be read first. In short: Burt discovers a homeless hybrid teenager sleeping under his front porch and takes him in. This fic let me get out all my parenting and love of Burt and Carole feels. If you notice a blatant take on the racism and homophobia pervading the U.S. in this dystopian verse, then I’ve done my job expressing part of the bag of emotions I feel as the parent of gay, POC, young adult son. The same trigger warnings for the previous fics apply here as well, though not all chapters have them. Please see the tags.

[thecurseisinourblood]

Obsession vs Love

Merry Christmas all! So I have a gift for you... I wasn’t going to post this until it was finished but I got into a bit of a rut, but I have been sitting on this for months. Originally this was meant to be a oneshot between Erik and Frollo and it turned into 16 pages of detailing Frollo’s progression of feelings leading up to and after seeing Esmeralda. Enjoy! General Mature content warning.

Claude Frollo reached the time in his life when he accepted a lot of things. His thirties were gone and he was grateful. This was a decade where he had been ravenous for status and particularly ruthless in character. Looking back, it seemed his repressed youth had blossomed during that time and his past behavior sometimes embarrassed him to this day. He had been moody yet confident in ways he never before experienced within his personality. Though never being wild, there was a crazed side of him that was manipulative and hungry for power over others, particularly in social interactions. Any witty insult that could roll off his tongue or opportunity to correct someone’s facts were never missed. His parents had been cruel to him and in these small ways it felt good to finally speak his mind without decorum. These were his selfish years.

“I am happy you have come out of your shell, but you have become absolutely unbearable to everyone,” Lucy said to him after insulting a woman who had been taking up his time with idle chatter in an attempt to catch his interest. “I finally don’t care what anyone thinks of me,” he remembered saying to her. It took him over thirty years to stop worrying about strangers’ opinions. 

He had looked at women more. Admiring them, their pretty faces and perfectly toned bodies, but became frustrated speaking to them as most of them were self-serving or not intelligent. In his teenage years he would secretly leer at women, but it was in a more passive and curious manner. The sexual frustration became more exhausting than maddening over the years. No one could keep his interest, no matter how stunning. There was a time when he could charm a woman that would gladly take him to bed. As much as he longed for that experience, the thing he yearned for most was a connection that wasn’t hollow. So, when his personal assistant began seeing one of the two judges who mentored him, he became envious. Lucy and judge Remy became an item despite their twenty odd year age gap.  During this time, Frollo was more distant with Remy than ever before. The elder judge would reach out to him as he had in the past, but Frollo wasn’t interested. It was childish, but to him it was a breach of trust. 

Claude was the last one to figure out they were together. Despite knowing Remy was on a break from his wife, Remy always flirted with Lucy, so he thought nothing of it. Lucy should have been above such vulgar charm. Little did he realize they were in a full fledged relationship. Since Lucy was the only female he had ever been attached to, Frollo quietly simmered in his jealousy. “Why did no one tell me they were together?” Frollo looked ahead and clenched his jaw. Jean-Pierre watched Claude closely and saw his fight to remain collected. He never expressed himself, but Jean-Pierre easily detected frustration. How could I not see it? Is what the eldest judge imagined him to say instead. Frollo had a new nickname that was beginning to gain traction in the media. If the young man didn’t change his ways, it would stick forever. The Marble Judge. Jean-Pierre could see it causing issues down the line. “I’m sorry, dear boy. I genuinely thought you knew.” In fact, it had become quite apparent, but Claude wasn’t equipped to pick up on these emotional nuances. Jean-Pierre learned this early on when he began mentoring him out of college as an intern. Claude could pick apart a stranger’s motives, behaviors, even business plans like a computer, but as soon as the relationships grew closer to him, all of those observation skills became useless. Frollo had a lack of understanding of any form of emotional intimacy. He gathered it was because his parents never nurtured him. Though they all tried to cross that bridge with him, Frollo proved to have an impenetrable wall around his heart. Frollo turned to look at the old man. Did Jean-Pierre detect…jealousy? “How was I supposed to if everyone refused to inform me?” Jean-Pierre didn’t know how to answer that without offending him. Instead, he sensed a deeper issue. Frollo never approved of Remy’s flamboyant lifestyle and he was quite fond of Lucy. “Do you have feelings for her? Or is it because you find Remy to be an utter scoundrel?” Frollo’s skin paled and Jean-Pierre put his hand on the man’s back. “Why didn’t you tell her if that was the case?” He asked gently, but Frollo knitted his brow in anger. “That’s not it,” he tried to recover by acting irritated. “It doesn’t make any sense. We all know Remy is going to go back to his wife because he can only go so long without fucking a man. I know Lucy well enough to know she wants monogamy.” Jean-Pierre pursed his lips and removed his hand. Keeping his eyes on his, he kept the boy’s attention. “Relationships rarely make sense if you write them on paper, my boy. That is not what it is about. ” Frollo looked like he was at a complete loss of what to say next, as if Jean-Pierre gave him some profound knowledge...a revelation. 

“Even if Lucy knows Remy will return to his wife, she wants to enjoy it while it lasts. He is a good man and I trust him with my life. So, do you think Remy is a scoundrel?” He asked again, to which Frollo shrugged uncomfortably. “A bit,” Claude grumbled. “And it is natural to like Lucy, she helps you with everything and is very kind. It can be natural to feel jealous, but don’t be too hard on judge Remy for it. You are fond of her, aren’t you?” He knew Frollo liked women, but never dated. To his knowledge, Frollo was still a virgin. Claude’s hands were folded on his lap, but they looked more like fists with their tension. “A bit,” Frollo said more reluctantly. His head had been pointing down for a minute, but he suddenly turned to Jean-Pierre. “Don’t--” He swallowed. “Don’t tell a soul,” Frollo said harshly. Jean-Pierre tried to hide the melancholy from his smile. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that everyone already knew. “I promise not to say a word.” It wasn’t until years later that Claude realized he had never been in love with Lucy. He assumed Lucy knew that in her heart all along. Judge Remy and Lucy were expecting their first child after a year. They married, to everyone's surprise. The ‘break’ from his wife turned out to be final. Remy was deeply in love with Lucy and appeared to have settled down from his swinger lifestyle. Remy once made fun of Jean-Pierre for having a child so late in life, only to walk the same path. However, after some years, Remy began to notice a blossoming friendship between Lucy and a man named Luc. He was doing business that required them to keep in touch and the conversations were growing longer. Remy asked Luc out to lunch one day and quite liked the man himself. Luc was easy to get along with and very attractive. He had never met someone so laid back and funny. As they spoke about Lucy, he could see a twinkle in Luc’s eye. It was the same as Lucy’s.

Ah, young love, and Remy knew that Lucy would never leave him for another man. Remy invited him over for dinners quite frequently. Lucy believed in monogamy, but in Remy’s opinion, love should never be restricted. Lucy was the love of his life and he wanted her to have the world. Luc was an amazing guy and Remy found himself wishing Luc was bisexual. After things developed, Remy had a decision to make. He approached Luc first. “I seem to have noticed that you are in love with my wife….” The expression on Luc’s face told him what he needed to know. The blood seemed to drain from his cheeks. Luc tried to laugh it off a little too late and Remy placed a hand on his shoulder. “I will love Lucy until the day I die,” Remy continued. “But I am finding myself missing certain things.” The judge never wanted to be tied down completely, but it had been a sacrifice he was willing to make for Lucy. He was physically more attracted to men, but his marriage to Lucy was the most fulfilling and euphoric experience he ever had. “You do not seem like a jealous man, Luc. In my mind, she will always be my wife. If you both accept it… I would like to see her from time to time…. If you know what I mean.” Luc readily accepted it while Lucy seemed conflicted. “Divorce you…. And marry Luc?” Lucy’s cheeks were flushed. “You spoke to him first?” “Yes, I did. You don’t have to be shy, my love. I am actually just a little sad that you didn’t tell me. Come on, you know me better than that. Why should I care?” he smiled and continued. “This could be good for us,” Remy took her hand. “I would still like to have private time with you and I will still speak to you like my wife. I will just be… a mostly gay husband. Luc is absolutely fine with it, as long as you are, but I understand if you would like to speak with him first.” Lucy blinked and knitted her brows. She was completely stunned. “Unless you stopped loving me when you fell in love with Luc…” Remy began, which was met with Lucy quickly objected. “And I thought you knew me better than that,” she said, a bit upset. “Oh, I was hoping you would say that,” Remy laughed. “So what do you say? We take a holiday every once in a while, I can have my fun with men again, and you and Luc can have the perfect marriage.” Lucy’s eyes began to water. She didn’t typically cry. She knew how Remy was, but his removal from all forms of jealousy still astonished her. She was just beginning to realize Luc was the same way. “Truly?” She asked him. “I will always give you anything you want,” Remy kissed her forehead.Then he laughed. “And you wanted to be monogamous. Life has a funny way of changing things, doesn’t it?”

~.~.~ By the time Claude turned forty, he gave up on finding a partner. Although, he promised himself not to shut anyone out. He talked to women at parties until he felt his ears would bleed. He attended the theatre often, but as time went on, he stayed at home even more. He went from drinking lightly on occasion to drinking a fair amount at home and at events. The Marble judge finally felt content once he no longer seeked fulfillment from others. He found more joy in his work, in meals, in his personal reading. He cooked more and generally took better care of himself than he ever had in his life. He lied to himself well about never feeling lonely, but there was to be another development. Delice came along a year later. A beautiful and young socialite who was charmingly cruel. Frollo knew if she had been around while he was in his ambitious thirties he would probably be poor on the street by now. She would have taken everything from him. Somehow knowing this, she still appealed to the apathetic part of his soul. They would make such wonderful wasps. As time went on, Frollo became increasingly drawn to her. He was starting to like her and become more comfortable. If it was a trap, he began to care less and less. He ached for someone. They had enough similarities and he adored her air of superiority. Frollo had never been perfect, often thinking there were plenty of people below him. They could judge others and be stuck up together. Delice was the closest thing he had to a crush since Lucy. Frollo never appreciated just how well his colleagues and friends got at reading him. “Delice has been on your arm for months and you actually smiled at her! You were eating her up! I’ve never been so disappointed in you,” Lucy chastised him after a political event. “It’s not like I am going to fuck her, if that is what you are so worried about,” Frollo loathed feeling embarrassed and often acted quite thin-skinned during personal conversations. Lucy called him out on his developing feelings for Delice and at this point, he didn’t even know if what he said was true anymore. “You say that now! I introduced you to plenty of sweet women and you let that snake in our circle like she is your friend. I know she is pretty, but god damn it Claude! You’ve heard things about her too and you know that she is literal filth. This isn’t high school.” “I enjoy our conversations and her company. At least when she speaks, she knows the subject. You know how hard it is for me to find a conversation worth having with these mindless people.” He was defending his actions and feelings more than standing up for Delice and they both knew it. “That is what you are going to say to me?” Lucy had never been this angry with him and she succeeded in making him feel like a teenager being chewed out by his mother. “Do you think I don’t know a man’s eyes when they want to fuck someone? Do you think she doesn’t know? I’ve seen you look at women, but you practically undress her with your stare every time she is close. I know you are one of the most brilliant minds in the world, but you are emotionally stupid. She will rip you to shreds with her teeth and spit you out.” She walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “If you are that lonely, you need to find something else.” He remembered how broken he felt. Her speech opened his eyes and took away the joy he was experiencing for the last few months. Lucy was only trying to protect him and she was absolutely right. His eyes looked to the floor in shame. “I’m sorry, dear,” Lucy said sadly and gave him a hug. He couldn’t breathe. He stood there, unmoving. So, this is what a hug felt like. Wrapping his arms around Lucy, he trembled, keeping his emotions in. He held her tight. He was kidding himself all along. He wanted someone to hold forever. Though he wasn’t in love with Lucy, he knew he would have been happy to spend his life with her, but she deserved the true love she had. She was his closest friend and he clung to those emotions because it was the only time he experienced connection. When she left, he drank himself to sleep in his despair. His bed had never felt so cold. His life returned to how it was and he found that he didn’t miss those few months when he had Delice glued to his side. At the end of the day, none of it was real and he again became content living alone, being alone. He limited his interactions with Delice. She saw this and attempted to cozy up with Lucy, but was shot down. This is when he saw Delice become a bit more aggressive and sometimes trapped him in public conversations so he couldn’t leave. Yet… he couldn’t bring himself to even dislike her. He liked her ambition and her persistence and never treated her unkindly. 

He remembered the events which led up to the day that would change his perception forever. Attending a theatre performance, he remembered a new ballerina named Christine. She did fine in performances, but Charlotte, judge Jean-Pierre’s daughter grew impatient with her. “She’s good, but she is so timid. It is a miracle she can dance in front of an audience. I think her being friends with Meg Giry is the only thing keeping her safe from Madame Giry’s wrath. She would probably cry at the drop of a hat!” It only took weeks before Christine was no longer in the ballet, but the choir instead. Her voice was undoubtedly incredible. Frollo’s eyes widened in surprise one night when the prima donna had some drama and they needed a fill. He immediately became curious. Rumors were circulating and it didn’t take Claude long to figure out why. There was only one Erik he knew with any clout, though most everyone simply referred to him as the opera ghost. He was the manager everyone feared and never saw. “Are you teaching Christine?” Frollo asked his distant, but long-term friend. He remembered the near indecipherable smirk on Erik’s mouth just below the mask. “That sounds more like an accusation than a question.” Frollo observed him quietly with as little expression as possible. Erik loved to get under anyone’s skin, especially his because he was ‘so uptight that it was foolish.’ Meanwhile, Claude thought Erik’s mischief was childish and petty. He was just an old, lonely man desperate to entertain himself. “Either way, I would like to know,” Frollo said. “Why?” Erik was purposefully difficult. “That question was not your intention.” Frollo turned his lips inward in a hard line with evident frustration. “Is the interest strictly professional?” Frollo clarified tartly. Erik poured them some wine for the two of them and there was a solemnity and an amusement sparkling in his eyes that Claude had never seen before. If Christine was timid… this wouldn’t end well for Erik. To this day, even Frollo was wary of the man. “For now,” Erik handed him the wine. Frollo didn’t know why, but he actually believed him when he said it. Perhaps Lucy was right. There was a part of him that was emotionally underdeveloped and despite being able to read people very well, he was sometimes easily fooled. He met Christine before one of the performances. She was incredibly sweet. He thought her apprehension would bother him, but it made it that much easier to be nice to her. She was shy and he made small frequent smiles because of her overall pleasantness. Christine was thoughtful and smarter than he anticipated. However, he got the vibe that the only people who could be mean to her were truly cruel because she had an air of sensitivity and gentleness. 

“So, you are friends with Erik, then?” she asked lightly. Frollo gave her a small smile. “I guess you can say that.”

He could see why Erik would be drawn to her. She was not Claude’s type and he realized quickly that he could never be interested because of a lack of patience -- he was too old for that nonsense! Apparently Erik could read his mind for even thinking of such a thing, because later that night, he was on a warpath. Oh, Erik had raged at him so hard he worried the man would have a heart attack! Frollo’s eyes widened in shock at his demonic fury. He had never seen such an outburst. Wait --  now was he yelling at him because he so much as smiled at Christine? Why did he take Erik’s words for face value? The man was obsessed. Claude felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. How many times in his life would he misread the emotions that were right in front of him? “I just wanted to meet her,” Frollo promised. “If that is the girl you like, you could do infinitely worse. If it means a damn thing to you, I approve,” though she was awfully young. He was unwilling to admit to his friend that he thought the union would be impossible. The age gap was too large. For someone as particular as Erik, he expected him to fall for someone more mature… Christine was twenty, but there was a girlish quality that left the impression on Claude that she had a lot of growing up to do. After some time, Erik calmed down. Claude was secretly trembling from the shockwaves of emotions that Erik swallowed him up in like a black hole.The man had a power that was practically supernatural. What frightened him the most was the despair Erik felt. Obviously Erik didn’t think a relationship was possible, but he was going to try anyway. What a fruitless effort! Claude shook his head when he entered his car. The poor man. Unrequited love was a nightmare that Frollo never really considered. He always imagined love to be a progression. Meet, go on dates, grow feelings over a substantial amount of time… What if one fell within moments? A cold chill traveled up his spine before reaching out like an icy hand around his heart. His frigid fingers gripped the steering wheel. If Erik could be afflicted with such blind and unreasonable love, could he also fall ill? Another week passed and although Frollo wasn’t actively seeking new information about Christine, he quietly observed the woman Erik was enamored with. He didn’t understand why the intense attraction to her, but to each their own. She looked like a doll. She was very sweet, but Frollo found himself wondering how Erik could handle her naivety. Perhaps this proved Claude was the bigger cynic afterall. He was too jaded to try to have a meaningful relationship with a woman half his age. At least women near his age had the same temperament: calm, thoughtful, mature…

Tired. Fate had a cruel sense of humor. Everything he thought he knew would be challenged. His world was about to spin. Frollo was thankfully by himself, away from his group to order a drink from the bar before returning. When it happened. Standing at the bar top, he did a double take when he saw Christine with….a friend? 

Claude’s eyes were glued, his heart came alive against his chest as it never had before. If he had his scotch in his hand, it would have slipped from his fingers. Never before did he see a woman who looked like a goddess-- walked like one! The aura she exuded was so powerful that he followed her movement with his eyes without blinking. The girl had the fullest, darkest, and most curly hair he had ever seen. Her eyes were bright green which he had never seen a woman of her complexion have. Her plump lips were covered in a beautiful, matte red lipstick. Everything about her was so tasteful and perfect that he wondered if he was dreaming. If he breathed, he feared she would disappear like mist. Taking the scotch the bartender just poured for him, he used it to cover part of his face as his eyes raked over her body. Her cleavage was full, but not too much and she had such a small waist which led to wide hips. They now walked to the other side of the room. Seeing the full extent of the cut of her dress, her entire back was bare. Frollo didn’t realize a woman’s back could look so attractive. The slit on the side exposed the top of her thighs as she walked and they fit the rest of her body. There wasn’t a single inch of her that wasn’t flawless. The Roman sculptors would fall to their knees and beg to capture her beauty if they saw her. 

His scotch was done in an instant. Not intending to sit before, he did so now, thankful that the bar acted as his cover for his leering and….the erection which was hard against his thigh. Thank the maker that he couldn’t get a tent in his suit trousers. He gasped softly, his heart racing. This woman took his breath away. “Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in awhile,” Delice sat at the bar stool next to him and he was so disoriented, he jumped out of his skin. “Jesus fuck,” he whispered and turned his eyes to look at her. She smiled prettily. Delice had a nice mouth and beautiful eyes. Instantly, they didn’t seem so impressive. “That’s a good introduction. Did I scare you?” she laughed. “Buy me a drink and make it up to me.” At this point he was going to need three drinks before the performance. He would use Delice as an excuse to do so. “Absolutely,” he said and ordered for them. He knew Delice’s drink of choice and he could feel Lucy’s eyes boring into the side of his face when he didn’t return after a few minutes. He couldn’t hear what Delice was talking about. He was thinking of the girl. He didn’t see her again… was she getting ready for the performance? “You men don’t even listen sometimes,” Delice sighed. Frollo was already on his third round of scotch in a matter of minutes. “I’ve had a rough day at work, I am sorry, Delice.” He was about to round up the tab when Delice ordered another drink and touched his hand with her fingers. He tensed. “I don’t think your P.A. likes me,” she wrinkled her nose and sneered. It was surprisingly attractive to look at. He hated that he still liked her. “Lucy?” he asked vacantly. “Who else?” she said irritably. “Do you have another one that acts like your mother?” If Frollo had been sober he would have been a lot more offended by what she said. “You’re not drunk already. Are you playing dumb? You aren’t usually this unattentive to me,” she pouted. His eyes dropped to her lips. Old habits. She was still tantalizing and she knew it.

Even when she wasn’t being nice to him, he never minded. He actually liked it and he understood why Lucy thought he had a problem and needed to keep his distance. “I’m sorry Delice, I am not myself today. I haven’t been feeling the greatest,” he lied easily and after paying for her drinks and another scotch, he walked back to his group. Lucy was glaring at him as if he had fornicated with Delice right there. “Why did you stay over there?” She asked in concern. “I saw you pay and drink like a fish.” Lucy wasn’t ever this uptight. Everything that was going on made Frollo incredibly anxious. He took another sip of scotch. He was a little drunk now. “Please, Lucy, I just need… a break for a minute.” Lucy frowned in confusion and nodded. “I am sorry sir,” she took his hand. “I am just trying to look out for you. She is bad news.” “I know,” he assured her. They sat down for the performance and his life would never be the same again. Looking at the playbill he casually skimmed through it, but his fingers trembled. Was she here? He blinked. Esmeralda Trouillefou. Making her professional debut. He could hear his pulse drummed in his ears. She was the ballerina they hired after Christine switched to vocals. This… this never would have happened to him if Erik hadn’t interfered. His blood ran cold. He could feel the voice of fate laughing softly in his ear. He was doomed. Watching her dance was agonizing. There wasn’t a single angle of her face or her body that showed an imperfection. Ballerina leotards were always an attractive item, but he had never seen a body like an hourglass in the corps before. Frollo’s blood rushed hotly through his veins and seared his flesh. A bead of sweat to trickle down the back of his neck. His eyes flew over her and only her. Her thick thighs… her thin arms-- her everything. Her massive hair was slick and perfectly contained in the usual dancer bun and her eye makeup was typical of dramatic theatre performances for ballerinas. Crossing his legs casually, he swore his erection never went down for the duration of the play. He felt heady and needed to calm his erratic breathing. He forced himself to stop watching at the end so he could become decent by the time the lights went up. They met that night and he was so unprepared to see her face to face that he came off cold and silent. She made a face of disapproval because of his lack of warmth and he felt his heart drop like a boulder in his gut because of the disappointment.What a great first impression. It wasn’t until later that he saw her parade herself like the perfect little trophy to every patron.It infuriated him so deeply that the next time they met, he insulted her without thinking of the consequences. Of course she would be a frivolous theatre whore! Why did he even think she might be sweet and mindful? Thank God Lucy wasn’t there that night, she would have given him a stern talking to. He began to envy Erik. At least Christine was approachable and modest, with a quiet intelligence that was beyond her years despite her fragility. Meanwhile, Claude was starved for a woman who flirted with the entire room like it was her job! Every man wanted a piece of her. He could see it in their eyes when they looked at her. He had never felt so much rage that his vision blurred. It happened. Cupid’s arrow pierced his heart. Just like Erik. Obsession gripped him like nothing else had before. He looked for news articles with her face and attended more performances. They were his sick pleasure in the beginning. She couldn’t even be compared to the ecstacy of a drug. She was his euphoria and he spent months in this crazed state where he would consume theatre performances like morphine. Scouring the papers that month, an introductory bio was published. He was mortified to find out that she had just turned twenty-two. He unconscionably memorized her birthday. At first, the fact that he didn’t care for her didn’t particularly interfere. It was lust that drove him and in his mind, the fascination would gradually wane. In a few months, he would wonder what was so special about her. For now, he wanted to drink every inch of her with his eyes when he could. It was then that he began taking Charlotte to and from her performances at least twice a week. Jean-Pierre appreciated the help and Claude couldn’t admit that it was for any other reason. Ah, but Esmeralda was vile! He hated everything about her! In the after parties, they kept their distance at first, but he always knew where she was socializing. She might as well crawl under the clothed tables with some of these men and service them right there! His fury and irritation soon became as intense as his desire. Any time they came near each other, they couldn’t be civil. Even her beautiful skin color became a matter of vexation. She wasn’t the typical ivory frenchwoman, but he saw her impress men that he knew for a fact were racist. There were a lot of french who disliked brown skin, Frollo being one of them. She challenged every perception he had of the world. “If you want to act like a theatre whore, at least try to be more subtle about it. You don’t see any of the others being so obvious. Have some dignity” He told her once away from everyone else when she demanded to know what his problem was. Of course she was highly offended and hurled plenty of fire back at him. By month two, Esmeralda was best friends with Charlotte and Charlotte asked him multiple times why he was so rude. No explanation could cover his behavior, so he blamed it on her being just as rude in the beginning. Charlotte was quick to defend Esmeralda. “Try to be nicer to her next time you see her or I will tell Papa to set you straight. You don’t know what she is like in private.” He remembered the day in the hospital when he waited for over eight hours for this girl to be born. The same girl, seventeen years later, was telling him to get his act together, lest she tell Jean-Pierre.  He clenched his jaw and agreed to be more civil. He didn’t want to have an embarrassing, personal conversation, which would most likely make him feel ashamed of himself.

His fixation for Esmeralda never went anywhere like he anticipated, only increased as they both seemed to call a quiet truce. At least, when they had to make appearances. “Coquette,” he sneered under his breath in passing and she almost smiled. “Cad,” she cooed, unaffected. It burned his heart, especially when she found out she could ruffle his feathers by being a mixture of flirty and argumentative with him. She loved to flirt! When she flirted with him, it was a particular kind of teasing that set his skin aflame in concealed excitement, but it enraged him the most. It wasn’t real. It was mockery. Another month went by and things were becoming more difficult. He didn’t realize how close Christine and Esmeralda had become. Soon, the situation turned on its head and everyone but him completely adored her. “She is so great, I don’t understand why you are so mean to her,” Charlotte whined on the way home from a performance. She brought this up a lot and Frollo was growing tired of hearing it. “She isn’t particularly kind to me either,” Frollo said irritably. “So you both have a temper, I’m sure you two can start over. I’ve never seen either of you act like this. It just proves to show that you two got off on the wrong foot. I know you guys are very different.” “That is quite an understatement,” Frollo muttered through his teeth. It was month three since he saw Esmeralda for the first time and Erik was becoming more insistent that they meet. Claude avoided this moment for as long as possible. Erik knew everything that went on in the theatre and he was not ready to have a conversation about Esmeralda, or really any of his behavior when interacting with her. But soon, Erik put a hand on Frollo’s back as one of the performances ended. He hadn’t even seen where the man came from, as if he had teleported. Erik led him to a discreet area in the theatre which required his handprint for clearance. It wasn’t like Claude could run away. “I already told Charlotte that I would be speaking with you and her dad will be picking her up.” Frollo’s lips pulled in discomfort instead of the friendly smile he had aimed for. Once inside, they talked about Christine and her progress mostly. Frollo thought he might be off the hook, but he had been too hopeful.It was Erik’s turn to ask questions that he didn’t mean. “How about you, old friend? Have you found someone you are interested in?” Frollo’s skin prickled with anxiety. “No. I think I would tell you at this point if there was,” Frollo scoffed. The smile Erik gave was chilling and all knowing. His anxiety went off the charts. He felt like Erik was giving him a lie detector test where he already knew the results. “I don’t think you would.” Fear spread throughout Claude’s body and his stomach twisted with nauseum. “It’s Esmeralda, isn’t it?” The judge couldn’t hide completely from his reaction. His lips parted in surprise. Erik was the first one to suspect anything was amiss. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Frollo’s voice was tight in his throat. “You are the one who has been acting ridiculous!” “And you haven’t?” Frollo said defensively. “Don’t think I forgot you went off the rails because I spoke to Christine. Esmeralda irritates me, nothing more.” Erik laughed. He laughed! “You are obsessed! Ah, my friend has the same ailment as me!” Claude’s face turned white as a sheet. “Obsession will never be love, Erik,” he spat. It fell from his mouth and the opera ghost had never looked so smug. “So you admit it, then…And I disagree,” Erik waved his hand in an elegant dismissal.“My obsession has certainly blossomed and I can now say that I am in love. I would make the world spin the opposite direction. Christine must only ask it of me.” Frollo looked away and took a sip of his wine to refrain from sneering at the emotional soliloquy.That sentence seemed to be more for himself than for Claude’s regard.The thought of romantic love was beginning to repulse him more and more with each breath he took. “Your obsession might have turned into love for Christine, but that is not to be my fate.This is just an odd phase in my life. Us old men know how that happens. It will pass and I will forget it ever happened.” It would take Claude months for him to see just how little progress Erik was making with Christine. “That is not how hell works.”   Erik became so sombre that the hopelessness seemed to overtake the room. Erik’s words were cryptic and they lingered in Claude’s head hours after he left. He would wear the obsession thin. If he was this fed up with Esmeralda now, his irritation would eventually make him sick of her. It had to. Month four approached.Though it was still his secret pleasure to watch her dance because it excited him to his core, he was beginning to feel less satisfied. It gave him hope that his obsession was finally waning. It was a false flag. Ever since things had reached a temporary calm, his feelings for Esmeralda were merely shifting without him realizing it. He attended the theatre less this month and most of his interactions with the ballerina were picking up Charlotte from rehearsals or performances. Jean-Pierre was having health troubles and since “Claude turned into such a theatre buff this year,” he asked him to continue helping him with Charlotte. Frollo didn’t tell him that he hadn’t been going much lately, especially when his father-figure looked so pale and uncomfortable. None of them wanted Charlotte to be taking public transport by herself and Claude was the only one without kids. “Of course I will help,” Frollo assured him. It was devastating for him, especially when he wanted to avoid the theatre entirely. Sometimes mid-day rehearsals ran long, sometimes they were short. Frollo was always punctual, so it seemed like more than half of the time, he was in an empty theatre sitting with a handful of others waiting for the rehearsal to be over. He observed Esmeralda, who always sat next to Charlotte on the floor when Madame Giry did her review at the end of each rehearsal. He noticed how sweet her face was despite Charlotte’s constant pestering. More than once, Madame Giry had to tell Charlotte to be quiet. There was never a moment when Esmeralda regarded Charlotte with irritation, which was more than what he could say about himself. He admired her gentle smiles. He had never seen them before. These were the private smiles she gave to friends and not to patrons. Frollo got into the habit of taking xanax much more frequently. Theatre parties were one thing because he could hide in a crowd. Picking up Charlotte when she was always hanging on Esmeralda’s arm was a more intimate experience. One night, the rehearsal ran exceedingly late.There would be a new open soon and Madame Giry wasn’t having it. He was waiting for about two hours for it to be finished.. Once it was, he silently thanked a God he didn’t believe in. It was the first time he saw Esmeralda dance in a few weeks and he was yet again surprised by how acutely she affected him. His skin was warm. Distance wasn’t enough. Charlotte emerged in her regular clothes, approaching with Esmeralda. He couldn’t help but feel tense. Normally, she avoided him. He frowned naturally and saw her look away, slightly miffed, which in turn annoyed him even more. “Uncle Claude, would you mind giving Esmeralda a ride home tonight? It is dark and Christine didn’t have rehearsal today, so there would be no buddy system.” Frollo couldn’t help his sigh of annoyance. This was not at all how he planned on spending his evening. “It’s ok Charlotte, he obviously doesn’t want to,” Esmeralda said in a gentle tone he had personally never heard her use. He had never been subjected to a teenage girl’s pointed irritation before. It was like daggers. “Uncle Claude, I swear--” “Alright.” Frollo put his hands up in defeat. He didn’t want Charlotte to finish that sentence. Charlotte’s excitement was childlike. It was apparent to him that she adored Esmeralda with every fiber of her being. Staying separated from them as they walked to his expensive car, they hopped in the back. Fate was having a hell of a time making him miserable, as there was an accident which caused the traffic to be more congested than usual. There was no taking an alternate route. Charlotte talked excessively. Looking in the overhead mirror, he could see Esmeralda up close with natural makeup and normal clothes. She was honestly more stunning now. She smiled at Charlotte again and his heart twisted. She was so exquisite... Another emotion came over him that he had never felt. Then, his heart began to beat faster. Tender feelings flooded his chest and suddenly he yearned for her to smile at him. His eyes darted back to the road. No… no he couldn’t. This was the fascination talking to him. He didn’t care what happened to her or what she wanted. The night would never end and when they finally reached Esmeralda’s apartment, relief swept over him. “Thank you for the ride, Minister,” Esmeralda said. Their eyes met and he wondered if this was the first time that they looked at each other without animosity. “You are welcome.” His voice was reluctant, but Esmeralda seemed oddly pleased. So, he could be civil for literally half a second. She flashed the smallest of smiles as she left. It wasn’t the large, carefree ones that she gave to others, but it still caused his heart to skip a beat in his chest. “See, that didn’t kill you!” Charlotte said loudly. Claude sat there for a moment. “I think it may have,” he said quietly and Charlotte thought he was joking. “Sure, Uncle Claude. Whatever.”

[smolbeandrabbles]

Director’s Cut 3: Danny Rayburn

* Well it’s more a focus on our Reader character, but, Danny.

“What was the inspiration behind Liliana and her family? Because they’re all so amazing 😭🙏 and how did you choose the name Devan?” 

Liv, bless you for asking the difficult questions! Now you get a look inside my crazy mind (as if you hadn’t all already with Andrew.)

So, If you thought Andrew was a long post you better grab your favourite drink and your Danny playlist and settle in!

The following specifically refers to our reader character and her family, and the events of Sway and it’s spin-offs, which I will obviously always encourage you to read! 😁 Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Sweet Spot  /  All I Want For Christmas / Good Woman

What was the inspiration behind Liliana and her family?

Before we go into too much detail I want you to imagine 1st January, 2019. And then a girl who had recently purchased Camila Cabello’s first album - late, after being super impressed by her performance opening for Taylor Swift - and watched the first episode of Bloodline AND Dirty Dancing 2 (the trade off for having your mum watch Rogue One with you) in one single day. Anyone who hasn’t listened to Camila’s album, this is essentially Danny’s dance playlist, I don’t make the rules

I had ideas for Danny before I even started to watch. Mostly because when you’re first immersed in the world of Ben Mendelsohn and trawl through blogs, you can’t help but notice Danny. Annnd found out a lot about the show, which caused me to have a BUNCH of misconceptions and create a story in my head that was just... not even remotely close to what Bloodline is.

So here’s the deal, I occasionally like thinking about some of Ben’s characters gender bent, and how that would make them different/similar and affect their stories. I did this with Andrew and Gerry before I did it with Danny (because can we just think about Animal Kingdom if they were female?). And then armed with my assumptions, I came up with a story for Bloodline. “Linzi, why are you telling me this-!?” I hear you cry, but don’t leave the post just yet! Just keep in mind that Jack Ervin was (female) Danny’s restaurant accountant and also will they / won’t they love affair, that uhm. Well they didn’t, because Danny dies.  For all intents and purposes a lot of Jack’s plot points became Lily’s (including bringing back the restaurant). Also I had a great character with a great name that I didn’t want to waste. Jack became Liliana’s dad - and therefore we got: Jack and Liliana Ervin. 

Back to Dirty Dancing 2 - set in Havana, complete with its ‘will they/won’t they’ love story (of different social classes!) and of course, Latin American dancing. To say I borrowed a lot of ideas from this is probably an understatement - but Danny is a Miami boy, and Miami has Little Havana. Quickly it all kinda fell together.  But in this case, Danny is the out of his element American and Liliana (given that her parents are both from Latin American backgrounds) is the dancer. Added to that in DD2 the girls parents are both dancers, I was happy to keep an element of that for our girl too. Jack remained Jack Ervin, with his name actually being Juan Ervin (American Father, Argentinian Mother) but changing his name to Jack to fit in with his Miami high-society persona. Maria (American Mother, Puerto Rican Father) basically has a super cliche Hispanic name, I know (well both of them do but Juan is the equiv. to Jack so that’s how we ended up there) but it worked for me. Liliana’s name... I don’t even know where I got it from - sometimes names just come to me, sometimes I spend hours finding a good one on all these naming sites! 😅 Lily just came to me, I certainly wanted something that could be shortened Liliana->Lily but also something that went with Danny’s name. Liliana Rayburn is a great name. (I know the irony of that, you don’t need to tell me twice!) I need a ship name for them.

Let’s take a little look at their character for a second though: Jack and Maria are meant to be parallel to Robert and Sally. But also the complete opposite. Jack is described as a ruthless businessman who doesn’t care to much about his reputation in business. He’ll just get the job done no matter what the cost. The catch being of course that really Jack is a lovely guy, he cares very much about his family (+ extended family!) and is a well respected member of Miami society. Ruthless yes - but Maria and Lily mean more than the world to him - and eventually Danny too. “No man is good enough for your daughter until one is. And he is.” and also “He would have given you the world, and I would have let him.” Just sayin’ he’s a good father and a good man.  Maria is mentioned a little less than Jack is but I think that’s because I basically want to compare Jack/Danny to Robert/Danny. I also think that Jack has more to do with the overall story; he’s the one with the well known construction company that everyone recognises Liliana’s last name from, the reason that everyone is all over Danny with the “You can’t get involved with Jack Ervin’s daughter!!” spiel. Maria is the quieter character, but spends a lot of time showering Danny with love when she is around. Lily’s parents were all about giving Danny family that loved him unconditionally. A real family. She’s... probably a little more on the ‘stereotypical’ side of Hispanic parents, but there’s a reason for that-! One of my very best friends is Peruvian, and every time I visit him it’s like visiting my second family. Like from the very first time I met them his parents were SO kind, like above and beyond... and so adorable... oh my gosh, I love them so much and they are 100% inspiration for Jack and Maria. Maria is basically his mum. 😁 But more than anything I wanted Jack and Maria that wanted nothing more for their daughter than for her to find someone who loves her. No matter who he is or his background or anything like that. Which was important to me, especially having been through a relationship myself where my family didn’t really approve of him because he wasn’t from the same social class. I’m certainly not about that.

As your tags put it - Jack and Maria are the biggest Danny/Liliana shippers! 😁 (With Javi and Jason a close second! And I won’t leave out Evie and Amanda either!)

Liliana Oh my gosh. My love for her can’t be overstated. I say it every time, but I’ll say it again. When I started her and Danny’s journey on that dancefloor in January 2019 I never would have dreamed I’d be still here now nearing fic number 200. I wasn’t even sure if anyone would have been interested in them enough for me to ever write more than just Sway 1. But, when you’re asked to write a second part then you know it’s got traction and you end up with 10, of course!  Inspiration for Liliana? Good question. A little like I said for Elaiyna with Andrew, I needed a S/O that fit with Danny and his story. I say at the start of part 10 that really it’s her story. And it is, Danny takes her from one night stands with men she meets on the dancefloor to mother of 2 kids in a loving relationship where it’s clear that she will never love anyone else. And it’s his character/personality, being as in character as possible, that leads her there. Liliana never runs out of chances, she forgives Danny for everything he does because she loves him so much. Because she can’t bear to think of life without him, nor what his life would be like if she left. Liliana is... a strong woman who doesn’t know how strong she is. She loves unconditionally and she doesn’t care that Danny is not on top of his game - he’s struggled his whole life, but he does not have to struggle with her. She’s meant to be the easiest thing about his life - home, a safe place, strength and stability.  Danny is her adventure - with all his secrets, and his past, and how much he suffers she’s presented with a problem that she can’t solve, she can’t save,but loves him anyway. Lily will never give up.  The contrast between the two worlds they are in when they meet, and then the one they build together as they grow which takes that contrast and just makes it work. Like they just work - sure I made it that way, but I tried to make it realistic. Love has no barriers, right? It shouldn’t. To quote my characters again: “There’s one fairytale here, and it’s yours.”

I wouldn’t give her a pushover title - sure she never runs out of chances for him (perhaps its arguable that she could walk away but it never occurred to me that that was her personality.) but like, screw his family. She won’t ever forgive them for what they’ve done to him, she won’t ever trust them.  So why does she forgive John? Because that’s her character. That’s what Danny made her. John and Danny’s relationship always fascinated me in the show and it just strikes me that Danny and John were close, even with all that happened. Danny would want Lily to forgive him - and maybe Lily only forgives him FOR Danny, but it’s in her character. She’s tired of all this conflict and all she wants is for John to confirm he did it so she knows for sure.  Liliana has elements of me in her, perhaps a little more than most of my other OCs, elements of my feelings towards characters in the show as I continued to watch, elements of other OC’s of mine (and physically too. Her Psalm tattoo I directly lifted from someone else. Hey, it be that way sometimes!) and elements of all these pieces that inspired me to write her in the first place. 

I mean I don’t know if that really explains it clearly. Because there’s not really one clear inspiration for them - but from a range of different sources and elements. I hope that it even helps explain it a little though! 😅

How did you chose the name Devan?

Oh my gosh, okay. Liv why did you have to ask this question!  So, oh god this is so stupid.  Basically, although I knew that they would have a son, because our characters didn’t know that they were going to have a son, I wanted to give the baby a unisex name. Because I ALSO knew I was going to follow Bloodline canon it was also important to me that Danny be the one to chose the name.  Added to that, like Nolan, I knew that Danny and Lily’s baby was going to keep that Rayburn last name.  Devan Rayburn and Devan Ervin both sound pretty great to me..!

Obviously, it should be Devin. And the only reason I think I chose Devan was because a) I actually thought that was how you spelled it... (I mean I guess so, there’s no other logical reason I can’t have called him Devin... unless I looked at Devin Ervin and thought... ‘that’s basically the same’ and so changed the spelling but it was definitely always written Devan in plans etc) and b) a singer called Devin Dawson.  When I was on my year long internship in the USA I was able to listen to country music radio - specifically the station a family friend worked on. And they were obsessed with a song called “All On Me” by Devin Dawson. (actually it’s a good one for this series, but that’s beside the point!) So I heard his name all the time, and I’m 99% sure that I got it from him. (Also fast forward and I’ve actually now seen the guy in concert and was like “Oh yeah I named a character after you.” so yeah it’s probably Devin Dawson’s fault. )  At the end of part 8 I left a note that says “Devan isn’t easily explainable but I hope you like it.” and honestly, if there’s a bigger story I can’t remember it. I know that ‘Evan’ was another character in my genderbent story but I don’t think I just added the ‘D’ to that... Maybe that was an element of it though?  

Also I’m a sucker for ‘weird’ names or weirdly spelled names - a lot of my OCs fall victim to this - sorry girls! 😅 So it’s unsurprising that he ended up Devan, not Devin. Also I’d pronounce it “Dev-an” with a soft ‘a’ sound... 

Interestingly it took me a little longer to decide on his middle name being Daniel. I guess I’m not sure how good “Devan Daniel Rayburn” sounds... But then I wasn’t about to resist it, and it seems like the kind of decision that Liliana would make.  

I hope that answered your questions Liv! 🙏💜💙 You’re always welcome to ask for further clarification! 😁

---

Thank you as always for being interested in my work! Just gonna remind you all that you can ask for a Fanfic directors cut ! I would love to answer any questions! 🥰😘 

I mean it, I’d beg. Don’t make me get that Danny gif.  

[zontiky]

The Five's Store au we were talking about?

yesssss the good kush. gonna do this in bullets because i feel like it might get long. jsyk i didn’t read through literally any of this so for whatever typos i made sorry lmao

five wakes up one day (post apocalypse) and thinks hey, you know what would be a completely rational and not at all impulsive idea to follow through with.

that’s right folks. 

he’s gonna start a store.

the thing here is, five has absolutely no idea how business functions. sure he’s been part of a massive organization for years, but actually doing like,, store things? lol what

but that doesn’t matter because he’s gonna have a store and he can learn as he goes, no big deal

it’s a very big deal. five does not know how to manage a store.

it’s literally just called “five’s store.” how did he fund it? when did they build it? nobody knows. it’s like those fast-food restaurants that just pop up one night and you have no clue how they got there.

so. five’s got his store. this is nice. he didn’t actually know what he wanted to sell, but because his siblings couldn’t talk him out of this (read: they didn’t know it was happening until it was too late) they suggest things

baked goods! bicycles! books! postcards! writing materials! furniture! shut up klaus nobody is selling what you’re about to suggest shUT UP-

so five decides, fuck it, and just. shoves everything into this store. how? i don’t know. nobody does.

i literally have no ideas how stores work so im playing all of this by ear (vanya if you’re out there) but five also doesn’t know how stores work so it’s all good. gucci, if you will. five has probably stolen gucci before, for a mission or something idk just a thought

so five has his store but he’s so bad at managing it. first off, hiring employees didn’t occur to him. it’s just five in a building

customer: *walks in* hello can i have a cake pleasefive: sure :) five: *gives them a pie*customer: little boy, who do you think you are? i said a cakefive: cake? oh shit you’re right, sorry.five: *gives them a breadroll* :)customer: what a rude little boy! let me speak to your manager. is it even legal for a teen to be employed?(he passes as 15 ok props to aidan for being older than his character’s physical age lmao)five: ok *walks out into the back room* *walks back in* hi what can i help you with

the kids love him though. it’s always “mommy when can we shop at five’s again?” etc etc and five is like. shitposting irl. without realizing. he genuinely doesn’t know the difference between types of cheeses. he can’t tell you how an LED is different from a fluorescent bulb. he actually, literally, doesn’t know this shit.

why is he in charge of a store? fuck if i know, but im having fun with this

the siblings try to help out, but it ends with five kicking them out because they were “arranging the cacti wrong” or “messing with the bathroom toilet covers too much” 

what are bathroom toilet covers? idk but we have them in my house and we only use them for christmas theyre the worst. imagine a fucking snowman staring at you everytime you want to take a shit. goodluck

five loves his store dearly tho

from offbrand cream cheese to onbrand sweatervests.

hm luther probably tries to help with the gardening section once in a while. he comes in and immediately has to hold back tears because “five when was the last time you watered these begonias.”

‘oh last week probably i dont know’

“five you have to water them at least once a day”

‘how was i supposed to know that’

“five you OWN a STORE-”

so yeah luther just. silently looms in the corner. watering plants. he scares asshole customers away even though he never says anything he just stands there. and waters the plants. some nice ladies initiate conversation and he just goes off about plant things which is so valid i love him

he’s like hargid but less rough around the edges. friendly giant. bfg but with plants. five never comments on how he takes a plant home occasionally. 

diego sticks around the cutlery for reasons well known. he always tries to take knives home, to sharpen them, he claims, but five draws the fucking line there.

im making it sound like five owns some massive corporate building. no. his store is like a very compact IKEA. it has everything an ikea would, but it’s barely the size of a target. actually targets are pretty big. walmart maybe? dollar store? bigger than a dollar store though. hmmm just an average department store

lowes. that’s it. it’s like an ikea but the size of a lowes. five owns a lowes called Five’s Store. 

okay so allison’s sole purpose is to stand outside and offer free autographs. she basically bribes people into going in. it’s like walmart. as soon as you go in you physically can’t go out without buying something. 

jk she also helps five with his customer service because what the fuck it’s terrible. also funding. she’s a rich actress. all of them have an inheritance probably though, but five didn’t want to use reggies money because this is all a really huge “fuck you” to dad. cheers to him. 

OH MY GOD ALLISON PROBABLY SHOOTS ADS FOR FIVE’S STORE (in future mentions will be abbreviated to FS for my convenience) AND THAT’S HOW THEY GET TRACTION YES

klaus and ben kinda uhhhh hang around. klaus is kicked out by five a lot because “don’t touch that” “get your hands off” “where did you get a chainsaw? put that down, klaus stop-” and all that usual average stuff, but when they need it klaus is willing to be a cashier for a little bit

ben is the only one with like. actually useful tips. 

ben voice: no that’s not how you purchase items to sellfive: ???ben: here okay just go do something else and let the adults handle the money okay?

five can’t punch ben because he’s dead so HA. klaus probably makes ben corporeal though rip

ooo ben can also shelve things with his interdimensional wiggly worms! he can reach those high high shelves that have packaged stuff on them.

…costco? no i dont think FS is as massive as costco moving on

ben shelves stuff. we are eternally grateful for that. bless

vanya is the only actual competent adult you guys know this right. like sure the rest of them come CLOSE (mainly ben and allison, but ben doesn’t really count because he’s dead) but vanya is the only actual competent adult in this family (pogo dni)

so vanya does the taxes. rip to her. nobody likes taxes, but she’s taking one for the team

diego helps sometimes. tries to help sometimes. he brings her coffee does that count

kidding, diego knows how to taxes a little bit. emphasis on the “little” and “bit” and the silent “barely”

so yeah they all help out and i know i said five kicks them all out but i lied that never really happens. the store is like their side job but they’re not paid and it’s more of a hobby that got out of control

honestly five probably brings grace in and she bakes away because it makes her so happy that her cookies can make so many people happy. let her bake please.

claire probably owns an easy bake oven. just saying

yeah five has a store and it’s the literal best thing. it’s midnight so im gonna cut myself off but skjfsk this au is amazing thank you spencer for this golden concept

im gonna be honest all of this really reminds me of my mcdonalds five au which i might ramble about if requested lol

[valentines-in-london]

I Need Fire (Part 5)

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Authors Note:  Hello all!  This chapter could’ve gone two ways, I asked for feedback to decide which way it would go.  Thank you to those of you who gave feedback, I super appreciate it<3<3  I know the gif I’m using for this chapter is not The Dirt!Tommy but it’s too perfect not to use for the chapter!  I hope you enjoy.  I can’t say enough leave me any feedback you have as a reply or in my asks

Word Count:  5,644

Taglist:  @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches (send me an ask or message if you want to be added!)

Warnings: An equal mix of smut and fluff 

Chapter 5

It was the night before Halloween when Rayne found herself in the studio with Motley Crue and a few other friends and record executives listening to the final version of Motley Crue’s debut record.  The band had decided to call it Too Fast For Love after one of the songs on the album.  Rayne was sat on a leather couch with Tommy next to her, arm around her shoulder, taking in every lyric, guitar lick and drum beat.  Most of these songs she had heard live, but it was different on record.  The album was like a mix of the Sex Pistols, The New York Dolls, and something Rayne couldn’t quite put her finger on.  It was incredible, definitely not their full potential but, incredible.

As the final verse of “On With the Show” finished Vince cried out on record, Oh baby,and one final drum crash before the record ended.  Tom Zutaut, the bands A&R guy turned around from the mix console with a big smile on his face.  “That sounded amazing!  You guys nailed it.”

“Jesus christ Tom, it’s practically a demo.”  Mick Mars crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“But it sounds exactly like you guys do live!  And the live experience is what got you here.” Tom replied back, he wasn’t lacking in enthusiasm that was for sure.

“We’ll want more for the next record.”  Nikki spoke simply.  Nikki was a hard man to satisfy when it came to the band. He wanted everything to be perfect, which was kind of surprising since he was always messed up on something. But every time Rayne had been around him in any band related setting he was a perfectionist and if something wasn’t going right, watch out because Nikki would lash out.  Rayne found the brotherhood between Tommy and Nikki so interesting because of the differences in their personalities. Tommy was carefree and up for anything, Nikki was more serious and regimented.  “When’s the record coming out?”

“Let’s just worry about this record for now.  We’ll see if we can get any traction with local radio. If we do I think I can get you guys a tour in Canada.  And the record right now if everything goes right should be out November 10th.”  Tom answered Nikki’s question.

“A tour of Canada?  In winter?  I’m gonna freeze my balls off man, and I need those.”  Vince complained.  Vince had been acting weird around Rayne since Jo had seen him with another girl.  Whenever Rayne would enter the room with Tommy it was almost as if Vince would make it a point to get as far away from her as possible.  It didn’t bother Rayne necessarily but she definitely noticed it.

“There will be plenty of girls there to keep your dick warm Vince.”  Nikki huffed.

“Yeah Vinny, or you could just take one up there with you.” Tommy tightened his grip on Rayne’s shoulders giving her a sloppy kiss on the side of her head.  The statement confused Rayne.  He didn’t think she was going to tour Canada with him did he?  There was no possible way that could happen.

“Oh yeah easy for you to say Tommy.”  Vince seethed before he got up and walked out of the studio. Tommy held out his right hand asking everyone in the room, “What the fuck is his problem?”

“Can we focus here please?”  Nikki raised his voice quieting everyone else in the room.  “If we are gonna do this tour we have to make an impression.  We’re infamous on the strip, we gotta be infamous everywhere.”

“Hell yeah dude.”  Tommy agreed.

“You’d agree to anything drummer.”  Mick replied dismissively.

“What do you mean Nikki?”  Zutaut questioned as Nikki stood up towering over the shorter man in the green striped shirt.  “Let’s talk you and I.”  

And with that Nikki left the room with Tom and the other record company people, leaving herself Tommy and Mick.  Tommy looked towards Rayne, “Well what did you think of the record?”

“I really liked it.”  Rayne responded hearing Mick huff, shaking his head before Rayne could finish, “I do agree with Mick though.  You can tell it’s not perfect.  But I also think that’s what works.  You guys are raw and aggressive, especially live.  And this record definitely showcases that, there’s not much out there like it at the moment.  You guys work your asses off and build an audience outside of LA and I think you could really do something.”

Mick slowly got up out of his seat turning toward Tommy and Rayne. He looked between the two of them, “You know what Red?”

“What Mick?”

“You actually know what you’re talking about.  Sometimes you even remind me of Nikki when you get going about something you believe in.”  Mick spoke directly.  Wow, that wasn’t something she was expecting at all.  Mick was definitely not a sentimental guy, or a guy that was really “nice” so to speak.

“Thanks Mick, I appreciate that.”  Rayne nodded accepting Mick’s praise watching as he left the room.  Rayne turned to Tommy, “Holy shit, I wasn’t expecting that.  I thought he hated me.”

“Nah.  No one could hate you.”  Tommy replied wrapping both of his arms around Rayne, pulling her tight against him.

“Do you have a short term memory problem?”  Rayne smiled up at him.

“But seriously, you liked the album?”  Tommy asked ignoring Rayne’s criticism.  Rayne reached up, cradling Tommy’s face in her hands. She leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the lips.  

“I do, you should be really proud of yourself Tommy, you worked so hard.”  Tommy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, his pride unmistakable.

“I love you.”  Tommy said pulling Rayne into his lap.

“Tommy wha-“ Rayne spoke completely taken off guard by the three words she could have sworn she heard Tommy just say.

“You don’t have to say it back to me, right now at least. But you need to know how I feel. I. Love.  You.”  Tommy punctuated his declaration with kisses on both sides of Rayne’s neck, and finally her lips to punctuate the word ‘you.’  Rayne felt like she was drunk, everything went a bit hazy. “Woah, I really freaked you out didn’t I babe?”

“No.”  Rayne said quickly shaking her head.  “It’s just, no one has ever said that to me before.  No one that wasn’t obligated to.”

“Well, now you can add me to the list.”  Tommy smiled up at her, running his hands up and down her sides. Tommy really was a hopeless romantic, Rayne didn’t think that actually existed, especially in Los Angeles. But his actions tapped into something Rayne had always dreamed of having but didn’t dare speak out into existence for fear of disappointment.  And here was Tommy, who had not disappointed her in any way.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah babe?”

“What are we?”  Rayne questioned quietly.  She watched as Tommy’s facial expression was utterly confused. “Are we dating?  Are we friends that fuck around?  I just want to know.  I get it if you don’t want to commit to anything now, you’re about to be a big rock star and all so of course I don’t want you to by tied down and I would never-“

“Babe.  Babe.  Breathe.”  Tommy said comfortingly, “I thought it was obvious?  We’re dating.”

She wasn’t sure if it was relief or something else entirely but Rayne sighed replying quietly, “I didn’t know, we never talked about it.”

Tommy moved his hands to Rayne’s ass giving her a squeeze. “Rayne, everyone in LA knows you are off limits, you’re mine.”

“Tommy.”  Rayne said sternly.  “That makes it sound like you own me.  I don’t belong to anyone.  But I will say that I guess I’m off the market now.”

“Yes, you are.”  Tommy smiled kissing her lips tenderly.  “And so am I.”

The next day was of course, Halloween.  There was going to be a huge Halloween party at Gazzari’s that night, anyone who was anyone on the Strip was going to be there.  Off hand Rayne knew for sure Ratt, Dokken, Quiet Riot and the Motley Crue guys were going to be there.  Rayne loved Halloween, it was her second favorite holiday after Christmas, she always got a kick out of dressing up.  Tommy and Nikki thought it would be hilarious to dress up as cops, they had outfits and everything, Rayne had seen the outfit after Tommy bought it and was impressed, it looked like the real deal.

Rayne and Jo had also planned semi-coordinating costumes. Rayne was going to dress at Morticia Addams, and Jo was going to dress up as her sister Ophelia Frump.  Jo loved it because she got to dress up like one of her fashion idols Stevie Nicks.  Jo wore a white dress with flowing white sleeves, small braids sporadically throughout her hair and a crown of flowers sitting on top of her head.  Rayne had a little bit more difficulty with her costume, which included a black wig, getting all of her hair under the wig cap was certainly a struggle but she successfully did it. Her form fitting black dress had a slit up to her thigh, a revealing neckline and also had flowing sleeves.

Rayne told Tommy the night before what she and Jo would be dressed as so he could keep an eye out for her as they were arriving separately. Rayne put one final pin in her wig to secure it before she walked out into the living room her heels clicking as she walked.  Jo, as usual, was waiting on Rayne.  “Jo, you look amazing!  Your skin is practically glowing.”

“It’s the makeup.”  Jo brushed off the compliment.  Jo was also off since she saw Vince with another girl in the studio. Rayne almost wanted to put the two of them in a room together, lock the door, and let them either fight or fuck it out.

“Well I think you look beautiful.  You ready to go?”  Rayne questioned holding her hand out to Jo.

“As I’ll ever be.”  Jo half heartedly smiled grabbing onto her friends hand.  The two stayed that way until they got to Gazzari’s.

As most things on the strip, it was a sea of bodies when the two entered the seedy club.  Gazzari’s always had a certain vibe to it, The Doors were once the house band and the owner was one of those slightly creepy older dudes.  He surrounded himself with young women, kind of like Hugh Hefner.  There were dancing girls all over the club who were in minimal clothes dancing along to the music.  Jo and Rayne waved at a few of the girls that they had come to know who were up in their go go cages. They made their way through the crowd onto the dance floor when Rayne heard Tommy, “Holy shit you two look amazing.”

Rayne held her hands out to her side.  “Thanks.  Just like our personalities we’re ying and yang.”

“How you doing Jo?”  Tommy asked putting his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine.”  Jo shrugged her shoulders.  “I’m gonna be moody til I get some booze in me.”

“What do you want to drink?  I’ll grab it for you.”  Tommy asked.

“You don’t have to do th-” Jo began.

“I know, but I want to.  What do you want?”  Tommy smiled at Jo.

“A long island iced tea sounds great right now.”  Jo gave in before looking at Rayne who was giving her a side eye.  “Fuck off.  It has the most booze in it.”

“Whatever you say.”  Rayne smiled.

“And what about you gorgeous?”  Tommy asked Rayne grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles much like Gomez would do to Morticia.

“Well officer, I’ll take whatever Scotch whisky you bring back.” Rayne winked and Tommy was on his way to grab drinks for them.

“God I hate that he’s so nice.”  Jo scoffed, but Rayne knew she didn’t mean it in a bad way. “Like I want to hate him because he plays in a band with Vince, but I can’t, he makes it physically impossible.”

That made Rayne laugh, “How do you think I feel?  I never expected be dating him after going to that house party with you but he chipped away at my icy little heart and here we are.  Why don’t you go find Vince and talk to him?  You know he’s here somewhere.”

“No I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”  Jo shook her head.

“You know Jo, you are the most confident woman I know.  I hate to see you like this.”  Rayne said as softly as she could over the music.

“Here you are ladies.”  Tommy came back drinks in hand.  “Long Island Iced Tea for Ophelia, and a whisky neat cara mia.”

“Thanks Tommy.  Now no offense, but I’m gonna go mingle, being around the two of you is giving me cavities.”  Jo winked at Rayne as she walked passed them.

“Find me if you need me!”  Rayne shouted at her before turning to Tommy.

“I wish the two of them would just fuck, Vince has been a miserable little bitch since Jo stopped coming around.”  Tommy watched as Jo walked off through the crowd, she was easy to spot as she was basically the only one in all white in the entire club.

“Wait what?”  Rayne asked.  “Vince is miserable over Jo not being around?  Tommy that’s important information!”

“What?  Why?  Doesn’t she hate him now?”  Tommy asked utterly confused.  Rayne stood on the tips of her toes and kissed Tommy on the lips.

“Sometimes you’re a beautiful idiot.”  She smiled pulling away from him.  “Before the end of the night we’ll get them talking to each other again.  But for now come and dance with me.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Tommy happily obliged even though he couldn’t dance for shit.  The DJ was spinning different dance versions of creepy rock songs.  When Rayne and Tommy hit the dance floor a remix of “Welcome To My Nightmare” by Alice Cooper was playing.  Rayne and Tommy moved together on the dance floor, she actually found it kind of adorable most of Tommy’s dancing consisted of him moving his feet side to side.  Even still Rayne used Tommy’s lack of dance skill to grind on Tommy.  “You’ve got voodoo in your hips Cherry.”

She had certainly become accustomed to Tommy’s pet name for her, but she had found he only really used Cherry when he was turned on. Rayne turned around grinding her ass against his buldge, she twisted her neck to look at him.  “Do I?”

“Tread lightly Cherry or I’ll cuff you.”  Tommy gave her a devilish smile, grabbing her hand and putting it over his pair of handcuffs.

“Mmm, promise?”  Rayne asked before capturing Tommy’s lips in a heated kiss.

“Be careful now.”  Tommy bit Rayne’s bottom lip.

“Or you’ll what?”  Rayne questioned while Tommy groaned grabbing her hand.  Rayne struggled to keep pace with Tommy’s long strides as he made his way through the crowd.  When Tommy pushed open the door to the women’s bathroom, receiving a few stares, Rayne protested, “Tommy you can’t go in there!”

“Oh no?”  Tommy asked pushing open an empty stall, pulling Rayne in with him, a smile on his face.  “Oops.  Too late.  I’m already in.”

Tommy locked the stall behind them pinning Rayne against one of the walls, she looked up at him with doe eyes, not knowing what he was going to do next, but excited all the same.  “Turn around.”

“What?”  Rayne questioned.

“You heard me Cherry, turn around.”  Rayne listened to him and followed his instructions.  Rayne gasped when Tommy gave her ass a loud smack.  She was equally surprised when she heard Tommy pull his handcuffs off from his belt, watching as he clicked one around her wrist.  

“You better have keys to those.”  Rayne warned before watching as Tommy clasped the other handcuff to the metal bar in the stall, now Rayne couldn’t go anywhere even if she tried.  Tommy crooked his finger under her delicate chin, turning Rayne to face him, capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

“Well you wanted to be naughty, what other choice did you leave me?”  Tommy stated inching Rayne’s dress up her thighs until she was bare to him which caught Tommy by surprise.  “And you’re not wearing any panties?  Tsk, tsk, tsk.  What could I ever do to punish you?”

“You better not even think about leaving me in here Tommy.” Rayne warned him feeling as his hand snaked around her stomach inching towards her pussy.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands baby.” Tommy whispered, holding Rayne still as his fingers grazed over her clit which caused her to jolt back against Tommy.

“Fuck Tommy.”  Rayne whined when Tommy took his fingers away from her.

“You would like that wouldn’t you?  If I fucked you right here?  Remember when you said you weren’t the type that would fuck me in a bathroom?”  Tommy bit Rayne’s ear lobe, gently pulling on it.  Rayne moaned at his statement, it was true she never would have thought she’d want to be fucked so bad in a bathroom yet here she was practically begging for it.  “Tell me, do you remember it?”

“Fuck, Tommy, yes I remember.  Please don’t leave me like this!”  Rayne didn’t give a fuck if she was begging, she was so worked up she could feel liquid from her pussy starting to drip down her thighs.

“You promise to behave then?”  Tommy questioned.

“Only if you want me to.”  Rayne’s head fell against the stall and she arched her back as much as she possibly could, giving Tommy the not so subtle hint.

“Fuck, I like the sound of that.”  Tommy smiled moving his fingers past Rayne’s aching clit and towards her opening.  “How many fingers do you want?”

“Fuck, however many you want to give me, just give them to me Tommy.” How could Tommy say no to that? He started with slipping one finger into her wetness causing Rayne to throw her head back appreciatively. After a few strokes Tommy then entered a second.  She bit her lip before crying out, “Oh fuck yeah.”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth on you.”  Tommy spoke with a hint of pride in his voice.  He began to pump his fingers in and out of her at a furious pace before whispering in her ear.  “Shh baby, listen.  Listen to how wet you are for me.”

Rayne held her breath and tried not to make a sound as Tommy kept up his movements with his fingers, bringing his free hand up to her throat. She couldn’t help her mouth falling open from the sound of Tommy’s fingers working in and out of her soaking wet core.  “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Tommy chose that moment to add a third finger inside of Rayne. To say her cry was strained was an understatement, at that point Rayne was concentrated on nothing else but her orgasm.  That’s why when Tommy pulled his fingers out of her suddenly she actually thought she might die. “Tommy no!  You can’t leave me like this!”

She looked over her shoulder to see Tommy licking his fingers before unbuckling his pants and taking his dick out.  Fuck yes!  Rayne thought, let this finally be the moment!  Who gives a fuck if it’s not “special” as Tommy wanted it to be. Instead of finishing off Rayne, Tommy began to stoke his own cock while looking down at Rayne who was still spread for him.  “That pussy is so pretty when it’s dripping wet Cherry, and don’t even think of using your free hand to finish yourself off.”

Rayne tried to rub her thighs together for some friction but it was useless, she was at Tommy’s mercy when it came to pleasure at the moment. “I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it?”

“If you’re not gonna let me cum at least give me yours.  My mouth.”  Tommy gave his cock a few more pumps before he positioned himself so Rayne could lower her mouth onto him.  He came almost instantly Rayne sucking him off until nothing was left.

Tommy zipped his pants back up before he moved back behind Rayne. “Who said anything about not letting you cum?  I just wanted to make you beg for it.”

“Tommy I’ve done nothing but be-oh!”  Rayne cried out as Tommy slipped his fingers back inside Rayne and continued his work as if he hadn’t previously stopped.  He kept his fingers curled inside Rayne making her feel a super intense pleasure-filled pressure, not knowing what else to do she lifted her one leg to rest on the top of the toilet allowing Tommy all the space he needed to keep doing whatever he was doing.  A few more strokes and Rayne began to cry out, “Fuck Tommy… I- I’m gonna… holy sh…!!!!”  Rayne cried out as she felt a literal uncontrollable gush of liquid come out of her splashing onto the bathroom floor.  Tommy immediately put his arm around Rayne keeping her upright as her body practically turned to goo.  Tommy kissed Rayne as she came down from her high and kept kissing her until she stopped shaking.

“Holy fuck Tommy.”  Rayne said completely out of breath.  “Did you just make me do what I think you did?”

Tommy grinned like a cat that got the canary, rocking her back and forth in his arms.  “Looks that way.  Fuck you’re so hot.”

“Will you uncuff me please?”  Rayne asked lazily, she felt like she was floating on a cloud.

“Oh yeah sorry.”  Tommy quickly moved into action turning the small key and releasing Rayne from her constraints, kissing her wrist that was restrained when he pulled the cuff off.

“I wish I was in bed right now so I could live in this bliss for the rest of the night.”  Rayne cooed and Tommy stood up a little taller, proud of himself.

“Fuck, you look so good right now baby.”  Tommy smiled before giving her another kiss, gently pulling her dress back down into place.  “You think you can walk?”

Rayne giggled nodding her head and Tommy unlocked the stall. Tommy pulled Rayne towards him and the two made their way out of the stall, smiles plastered on their face. Luckily there was no walk of shame because no one was in the bathroom, except one particularly familiar blond girl.  The same one that had told Rayne months ago that Tommy wouldn’t give her up for “your fat ass” as she put it and had most likely set up the attempted assault on Rayne.  So needless to say Rayne couldn’t have been happier than to be caught in the act with Tommy and walked past her with no shame, only pride.  Fuck you skank!  “Well if that’s not the ultimate revenge, I don’t know what is.”  Tommy chuckled causing Rayne to join him giggling as they walked out of the bathroom, hand in hand.

“You want another drink?”  Tommy asked.  Rayne was still in a haze and just nodded her head smiling.  As she and Tommy made their way over to the bar Rayne noticed Nikki’s hair.  Tommy put his arm around his best friend, “What’s up dude?”

“Hey T-Bone.”  Nikki smiled before locking eyes with Rayne.  “Rayne.”

“Hey Nikki.”  Rayne replied.

“Did you two just fuck?”  Nikki asked looking between the two of them.  Rayne’s eyes went wide, “What?”

“Well Rayne has that just fucked smile on her face, and her lipstick is smudged.  And you,” Nikki turned to Tommy, “Your fly is still down.”

“Oh fuck.”  Tommy laughed before zipping himself up and narrowing his eyes at Nikki. “And no we didn’t fuck.”

Nikki looked back over to Rayne, “You still haven’t put out?” Nikki never mixed words, he was always blunt and to the point, she imagined that’s why he and Mick got along so well.

“Oh I’m not the problem here.  You’re boy is the one making me wait.”  Rayne pointed over to Tommy looking to bring some of the heat on him.  Now it was Nikki’s turn to go wide eyed.

“It’s gotta be perfect dude!”  Tommy replied enthusiastically as the bartender came over and Tommy ordered the drinks.

“You’re an idiot dude.”  Nikki rolled his eyes.  “Pretty soon she’s gonna give up on your ass and just start using toys.”

“Oh I use those already.”  Rayne said nonchalantly causing both the men in front of her to stare at her.  “What?  Guys don’t have the monopoly on masturbation, and most of the men in this city couldn’t please a woman on their best day.  Toys don’t have that problem, they work 100% of the time.”

“You’re fun.”  Nikki grinned raising his glass up saluting Rayne.  Rayne could always be one of the boys, most of the time she got along better with guys than girls.  Hence why Jo and she got along so well, because they both were mostly surrounded by men growing up.  The bartender brought their drinks over and Tommy handed Rayne her whisky. Nikki finished his Jack Daniels before pointing at Tommy, “Tommy, I have to talk to you.  Come with me.”

“Are you okay for a bit?”  Tommy said into Rayne’s ear.  Rayne knew what that was code for, Nikki was gonna get fucked up and wanted Tommy to go use with him.

“Yeah I’m alright.”  Rayne gave him a nod.  “I may still have trouble walking but I’ll manage.”

Tommy grinned before disappearing into the crowd with Nikki.

Rayne took a deep breath before she started circling the room trying to find Jo.  After a handful of greeting people she knew Rayne happened upon someone she wasn’t expecting to, but was happy about it all the same: Vince.  He was alone on a couch sipping on a beer. Rayne didn’t even think he was in costume.  He just looked like Vince.  Rayne approached him, “Hey Vince.”

Vince looked up at Rayne and gave her a quick nod of acknowledgement, “Hey.”

“Look I don’t know what’s going on between you and Jo,” Rayne started before Vince interrupted her.  “Absolutely nothing is going on between me and Jo.”

God Vince looked like someone kicked his dog as he took a big swig from his bottle, motioning to the bartender to bring him another. “If you want something to be going on go to the phone booth upstairs in twenty minutes.”

“What?”  Vince questioned.

“Vince, trust me go to the phone booth upstairs in twenty. You can thank me later.” Rayne put her hand on Vince’s shoulder before she went back to working through the crowd, Rayne looked up and finally found Jo who was sitting in one of the darkened go go cages.  Rayne climbed the steps to the cage before she took a seat.  

“Hey there.  How you doing?”  Rayne asked her friend who simply held up a near empty long island iced tea. “How many have you had?”

“I lost count after four.”  Jo answered.

“I think I know something to cheer you up.”  Rayne teased her best friend.  “Vince has been miserable.”

“Good he should be!”  Jo quickly shot back.

“No he’s miserable because he knows he fucked up with you.  Go to the phone booth in ten minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, okay?”  Rayne smiled at her friend, who looked at her cockeyed.

“Did you just get fucked?”  Jo asked bluntly.

“What?!”  Rayne nearly choked.  How the fuck was everyone so aware of what she and Tommy had done earlier in the bathroom?

“I recognize the signs.  Your hair, or wig is all fucked.  Your lipstick is smeared.  And your dress is ripped.”  Jo said nonchalantly making Rayne’s eyes shoot down noticing that her dress was indeed ripped, the slit that went up to mid thigh now went all the way up basically to her hip.  “So did you?”

“We didn’t fuck, but we did other things.”  Rayne replied feeling her cheeks get hot.

“Good for you Ray.  It’s about time.  I may have to give the crown over to you, the new queen of the strip.” Jo gave Rayne a sad smile.

“No way, you’re still the queen.  You keep the crown.  And you better hurry up and get to the phone booth.”  Rayne nodded in the direction of the phone booth.  Jo nodded her head and got up on wobbly legs with Rayne’s assistance.  Rayne helped her down the steps before grabbing her pack of cigarettes from her bra.  She made her way towards the side door of Gazzari’s for some fresh air.  Rayne pushed the door open to reveal a decent crowd outside the club, most of them smoking, a few making out, others just talking.  Rayne lit up her cigarette and took a deep inhale, it certainly had been a crazy night.  

“Hey Morticia,” Rayne heard from beside her seeing a girl she didn’t quite recognize dressed up as an angel.

“Yeah?”  Rayne asked.

“Are you dating the drummer in Motley Crue?”  She asked taking a sip from her beer bottle.  Oh Rayne could just imagine what was coming next.

“I am.  Why?”

The angel chuckled, “I just offered him a blow job and he turned me down.  Said he was taken, and I saw the two of you at the bar earlier.  Figured I’d ask.  You’re lucky, I heard he was a great lay.  I would have offered it to the bass player too, but he couldn’t even stand he was so fucked up.”

Rayne felt like she was in the twilight zone.  This girl just admitted to her that she offered to blow Tommy.  He turned her down though which was reassuring  Rayne shook her head smiling, “I don’t know what to say, thanks?”

“You’re fucking gorgeous by the way.  If the two of you ever want to bring in someone else to fuck, let me know.”

The angel turned and walked back into the club leaving Rayne completely flabbergasted.  The shit you deal with on the Sunset Strip. Rayne took a deep inhale off her cigarette turning her head as the back door opened once again, revealing Tommy.  He had a big smile on his face, “There she is!”

“I’m here.”  Rayne smiled exhaling watching as Tommy pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting one up.  “I heard you refused a blow job from an angel.”  Rayne couldn’t help but laugh when Tommy almost choked on the smoke in his throat.  “Looks like you’re not the only one with eyes out here huh?”

“Well at least you know you can trust me right?”  Tommy ran his thumb over Rayne’s knuckles.  Rayne chose to leave out the other offer the angel gave her.

“For now.”  Rayne winked up at Tommy.  “Tommy?”  

“Hm?”  Tommy sounded inhaling from his cigarette.

“You know I can’t go to Canada on tour with you right?  I know you said something last night that alluded to me going out with you.”  Rayne had been thinking about it since Tommy brought it up in the studio last night.

“I had to give it a shot.”  Tommy shrugged before moving to stand in front of Rayne. “But Rayne, if this whole thing takes off…”

“Whenthis whole thing takes off.”  Rayne corrected him causing Tommy to smile wide.

“When this whole thing takes off, I’m going to want you to come out on the road with me.  Fuck I don’t wanna be away from you for a day let alone months on end.  Led Zeppelin went out on tours for four months at a time.”  Tommy spoke passionately, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Tommy, my job won’t let me…” Rayne started before Tommy cut her off.

“Fuck your job, I can take care of you.  You just have to let me.”  

“Do you know how hard that is for me to do Tommy?”  Rayne shook her head but still smiling up at him.  “It would basically make me a freeloader.  What would people think of me?”

“Fuck what people think trust in me.  When it happens I want you out with me.”  Tommy leaned down to kiss Rayne, she happily returned the kiss.

“I’ll think about it.”  Rayne smiled pulling away.  “Will that suffice for now?”

“I’ll accept that answer for now.  But when the time comes it will be unacceptable.”  Tommy winked at Rayne before looking down at her.  “Is your dress ripped?”

“Yeah it is,” Rayne shoved Tommy’s shoulder, “Thanks to you. Jo also asked me if I just got fucked when she saw me.  So I guess neither of us are good at hiding it.”  Tommy couldn’t help but laugh at Rayne.  “Also I think I got Jo and Vince to talk to each other, that is if either of them made it to the meeting spot.  They were both a bit drunk.”

“Look at you go cupid!”  Tommy raised his arms to mime the motion of shooting an arrow. “That’s what you should have dressed as tonight, you did hit me with an arrow of love.”

“Oh my god you fucking cheeseball.”  Rayne laughed.  “Are you sleeping over tonight?”

“Not tonight baby,” Tommy replied surprising Rayne, “I just got a new bed and I want to test it out.”

“Oh?  You got a new bed?” Rayne questioned.  “If it wasn’t in your cockroach infested apartment I might offer to break it in.”

“Mmmhmm.”  Tommy hummed before kissing Rayne once more.  Rayne felt like something was a little off with that response. How could he not say something in response to her statement?  Tommy was always one for teasing comments.  Even though Tommy had given her plenty of amazing orgasms, including one insane one tonight, she still wanted so badly to go all the way.  It was to the point where she was actually having sex dreams about Tommy that would result in her waking up just before it was about to get good.  Her brain was even cock blocking her.  The number of times Rayne woke up and had to grab one of her toys to finish her off was getting embarrassing.  She wondered how much longer Tommy could possibly make her wait...

---

Well there you have chapter 5.  What did we think??  We’re gonna have a few more chapters of happy smutty glory and then shit’s gonna go down!  Thanks for reading<3

Take me to the next chapter...

[kurojiri]

new discoveries

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Tom Riddle/Luna Lovegood (pre-relationship) Gen: Tom Riddle & Rolf Scamander; Rolf Scamander & Luna Lovegood Summary: The Aquavirius Maggot had made the day start out as interesting. Prompt Used: Aquavirius Maggot  A/N: @hp-creatures & @tunavibes Word Count: 994 Or read on: ao3 | ffnt

The Aquavirius Maggot had made the day start out as interesting.

How could it not when the discovery was indeed strange as they were previously believed to be imaginary; instead it turned out that they were in fact, just rare. It led for a bump within the community as many magizoologists that still hadn’t given Lovegood and Scamander much credit to squirm in a hurry to apologize. Tom could see why; Rolf Scamander was the grandson of the world-famous Newton Scamander, the man that had changed the whole world and how classes were taught since his debut of his book. While Luna Lovegood, her own baffling entrance into the world had made many disciplined magizoologists  bewildered when they couldn’t fathom how she worked and made sense of the world. (Not that Tom was any closer into figuring her out too when their acquaintanceship began.)

Both Scamander and Lovegood reshaped the community since they started going on various expeditions throughout the globe as well, when they strolled into lectures to speak about their experiences and discoveries. Tom had heard of the commotion they began, and had been invested into the combination of enthusiasm they both had when he was added into their group as a bodyguard.  

(Again, he didn’t know how his skills in the defense against the dark arts came up as a means of working with the two of them. However, that didn't mean that he would complain since they all had such colorful and odd conversations he never had with the rest of the population. It had been an addicting connection he shared with them.  

And he would never cut himself from them if he could help it.)

Anyways, the new traction of finding them had most people to linger around what it meant underneath. About what it could say about any other supposedly made-believe creatures that could be wandering amongst them. And what it would mean about Lovegood’s insight as she was sensitive to the universe’s fabric as it was woven with magic. It had the same kind of attraction as seers were anchored with time and space. Always mysterious as it was dangerous at how complex it all worked but it still compelled many minds and personalities alike to solve the many riddles that the universe provided since life began its origin story. Since the introduction flocks of people came over to check them out. Instantly, the queasy and sensitive folks couldn’t stomach the vivid image of the Aquavirius Maggot, not that Tom had been surprised about it. Those creatures were hideous as they were disturbing. Morbid really that Luna Lovegood had been the type to coo at them as she had been the first person to record their sightings during her tour in America (of all places really, Tom couldn't say that he had been shocked that it had been the Americans, who were already known to be eccentric people, would be the ones to have such creatures reflecting them); either way her discovery had led him to accompany her to the states.

Business partners and friendly faces were all in his life now as Tom looked at the notes they've accumulated since her first sketches. The doodles have all been colored in and added with some anatomy notes that they had been able to properly label. Truly fascinating how one's perspective could dissolve and reattach itself when given the opportunity to do so.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed with the sudden thought of Scamander hearing about it— (seeing that he had been visiting some family at the time) because, if he did then that could only mean one thing.

The pinning and overall sighing of Lovegood and Scamander would share with the new materials for the new edition of the Creatures book that they were working on. Knowing those two well, he would have to pull in more knuts for fresh coffee and hot chocolate. He could already feel his back aching for the long nights of not getting his six-hour nap. Goodbye to his free hours of combing through his ever-growing letters and trying to be a normal functioning person.

Lovegood noticed his bent shoulders. “Oh Tom! Your aura suddenly spiked.” Her cold palms somewhat soothed his anxieties when he smelled ink, loose parchment and honey as she petted him. “Do you still have that charm I gave you last week? It should help ward off the nargles.”

(He didn't tell her that the one day he didn’t have the charm near him he had misplaced one of his journal logs and two pairs of socks that Scamander gave him from last Christmas.)

Not that he could comment about it when, said charm, that he left by his desk had been recently used as a bookmark for one of his journal logs he'd kept since they started studying the Aquavirius Maggot. He pulled it out from his satchel and saw how Lovegood smiled at him before grabbing it and tying it as a bracelet on his wrist. She mumbled an old prayer that had been coated with an older magic he used to study in uni, instantly his own magic picked up on her own and it sang happily as they mingled. His muscles loosened and he let out a long breath he didn’t know he was keeping.  

“There.” She whispered. Her loose hair still messy and wild shined when she peered at the window display where the Aquavirius Maggot were stored. The glow made her skin seem like porcelain.  

He had half listened to her assessments when she edited some of her first entries. It had been a strange road since he had met Lovegood and Scamander respectively, but when he gathered their belongings and walked over to their temporary office that the MACUSA branch provided during their studying, Tom was just happy to have met them.  

Even if Lovegood in particular had been driving his heart crazy when she became his friend.