#I had my answers ready and made sure to get my transcript and had it all there and then i forgot. i forgot that ontario is in a different

[no-thanks-bro]

Ah, the consequences of my actions. Fuck off

[idontplaytrack]

Slightly strange request that you totally don’t have to do but I just wanna see how reader would react to seeing Aj and Janis like reader goes to an art fair or something art related with Janis but gets lost and bumps into Aj or the other way around I just want some confusion and chaos lol maybe like a “woah you have my face” kind of moment lol

(-Totally not cheesysoup-arlo)

Twin Stranger

Janis ‘Imi’ike x gn! reader (ft. AJ Campos) reader’s gender isn’t mentioned

Warnings: some coarse language

In which reader goes to Janis’ art fair with her. Little did they know that their girlfriend would cause some chaos at the fair.

“Rise and shine, Jan.” You spoke into your phone.

“Mmm.” She mumbles sleepily, “I’m up, baby. I’m up.”

“Good. Everything ready?” You chuckled over your words.

She tells you, “Yeah, I got the artworks ready last night before I went to sleep.”

“I’ll be right over to pick you up.”

“Sure, baby. See you soon.”

With that, you hung up, “See you in fifteen, babe.”

You made sure you’ve got everything you needed in your sling bag before you grabbed your car keys and left the house to drive to Janis’. Once there, you spot Damian waiting out front with her. “Hi, Damian.” You grinned, unlocking the car doors so they could get in. Janis sat in the front with you, he got in the back. “Hi, you.” Janis leaned over to capture your lips into her own. “Hey.” You smiled into the kiss, “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” She answers, you started driving off. “Damian, how was your date?”

“It went well.” He couldn’t hide his smile.

“Aww.” Janis teased, tossing a mini pack of jelly beans into his lap, “You finally got some?”

“Excuse me?” He gasps, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“You just did.” Janis sighs.

“Literally.” You agreed, “Ooh, can I have one?”

“Yeah, of course.” Janis rummaged through her bag and handed you a pack of those jellybeans as well.

“And you had to throw mine to me?” Damian scoffs playfully.

“Well, I didn’t hit you anywhere, did I?” Janis played along.

You laughed, she puts her hand on your thigh while you drove. Like always.

It took you all about 45 minutes to arrive at the expo hall for the art fair. Janis got signed in and you followed her to her area to put up her work. There were some volunteers around if she needed help with them, but she never did. Especially not with you and Damian around with her. Janis loved going to art shows, it allowed her to show off her artwork, and if she won an award, it would look pretty damn great on her transcript for college.

After setting up, Janis slipped away to the bathroom while Damian went to go grab a bite from the snack bar in a corner of expo hall. You waited near Janis’ area for them to return but your eyes panned across the hall to check out the other artwork. But your eyes…they land on a pretty familiar face. One that looked so similar so Janis’ you had to do a double take. You thought you were seeing things. You were looking at her a second too long before she looked back at you and you just panicked and looked away like a creep. “Hey, I’m back.” Janis returns from the bathroom, “What’s the matter? Why are you so…jumpy?”

“Oh— I uh, saw somebody—” Your eyes search for the girl again, “Oh, right there. That girl looks just like you! I thought I was hallucinating.”

“Holy shit!” She gasps, “The one in the striped shirt? Literally doppelgänger.” You nodded, hooking your arm with hers. Janis continues, “Oh, my God. You know what we should do?”

You chuckle, “What?”

“We should totally go say hi to her and get her to join us in messing with Damian.” Janis bit back a grin, “Come on— before he comes back.”

You two scurried across the hall to locate the girl and introduce yourselves to her. “Uh, hey!” Janis tapped on her shoulder. She turns around, “Oh— my gosh, hi.”

“You have my face.” Janis beamed.

“And you have mine.” She laughs lightly, finishing her set up as she spoke.

“I’m Janis. This is my partner— y/n.” Janis began.

“Hi.” She stuck out her hand for you two to shake. “I’m AJ.”

“AJ, nice to meet you.” Janis carries on, “See, me and y/n were thinking we could mess with our friend, Damian a little.”

“Mess with him…?”

“You know, like make him think you’re me and just make him confused.” Janis nearly snorted, “He’s right there at the end of the snack bar drinking the crappy fruit punch.”

“I see him.” AJ follows her finger and spotted Damian amongst all the people present. “And, I’m down. Let’s have some fun.”

“I’ll sit at your table. You two go up to him and just…do whatever.”

"Can I put my arm around y/n?" AJ asks.

"Oh, absolutely. Go for it, cheek kisses I'll allow if y/n's okay with it. But yeah, that's it. Go."

"Okay." AJ shrugged

“Okay, be right back, babe.” You laughed, walking over to him with AJ right behind you.

“Can’t wait to see what happens.” Janis could not stop laughing already. In fact, you could still hear her as you and AJ were walking away.

————

"Damian!" You exclaimed, "Hey. How's the fruit punch?" "Honestly, this one's not that bad but— wait." He stares at AJ. "Did she change her clothes? I am not liking this look." "Excuse me?" AJ gasped.

You already wanted to laugh— you sucked at these things. But somehow, you kept it together long enough, "I think she looks fine."

"Yeah, fine. Dull." Damian continued. AJ scoffs, rolling her eyes, "Let's go get something to eat. Those muffins look good." She put an arm around your shoulder before heading for the tower of muffins. You each grabbed one then walk back to AJ's table on the other side of the hall. "Okay, Janis. You're up." AJ snorted, "He said you changed your clothes and that he hated this look. Called you dull."

"Bitch." Janis guffaws, "Can I have a bite, babe?"

"Yeah, sure." You shrug, letting her take a bite out of the chocolate muffin in your hand.

"Ooh, this is really good." Janis remarked, "Maybe even the best one we've had at these art shows. Alright, you two sit down, face the wall. Judges aren't coming by for another 25 minutes so we're gonna keep this up."

Janis weaved her way through the crowd, now finding Damian who was in line waiting for the bathroom. "So, ya happy?"

"Damn, how fast do you do your makeup?"

"Like you'd know." Janis scoffs.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Janis smirked, "Too much fruit punch?" "Well, I'm bored, alright? Those judges always take forever." He says in a hushed tone.

"Fair." Janis shrugs. "Hey, have you met my friend?" "What, friend? Girl, you don't have any friends that I don't know." He jokes.

Janis sighs, dialling your number, "Baby, could you two come over? Damian doesn't believe that i have a friend."

"What the hell are people doing in the bathrooms?" Damian grumbles.

"Why are you still drinking it if you need to pee so bad?" Janis laughs, slipping her phone away into her pocket. "Ah, Damian, look."

He nearly spat his drink out into your faces, "Okay, now, this is just — y'all tricked me? I cannot believe what I'm seeing." "Hey, you're bored? We’re bored too.” Janis shrugs, “This lovely twin stranger is AJ, who I believe we’ve actually seen before at a couple of art shows.”

“Still I cannot believe how much she looks like you.” You commented.

“I know, it’s kinda crazy to think about. You know how they say it’s like a bad omen to meet your doppelgänger?”

“I don’t believe that shit.” AJ chuckles.

“Me too.” Janis agrees, snaking an arm around your waist, “You’re cool. Let’s be friends.”

[cepheusgalaxy]

Ah, today was a pretty decent day!

We had nice snacks (cake and my favorite juice) earlier and the classes were also pretty decent, even that one that I needed the movie for -- what we're working on this cycle is this book but it has a pretty loyal movie adaptation and I was planning on watching that, but I couldn't make the time to watch it (again). The thing is that I had watched it before lots of years ago but the conversation we had on class (worth 30% of the literature grade) was pretty simple, the teacher made us questions and we answered them together, and my memory didn't fail me, for that movie really stuck on me, so everything went well! Now all is left is to finish that book--i had forgot how fast i can read when I'm invested--and it's a pretty fun book. I mean, I have to finish it before 15h but I'm already quite past the half of it so I'm sure I can at least near the end--and I also watched the movie adaptation of Enola Holmes some years ago when it came out. Then, before or after finishing the book, I'll see if I can get a try at the pool (its not gonna stay for long and as I was on my period i couldn't use it until now), and then after I'll do some more advance on my reference sheet (start polishing the turnaround and getting more expressions done on the other side of the sheet, as well as some notes on his design and color scheme~) or watch or play a little. At 17h30 ill get ready for gym and will be back at 19h-ish to get ready to go to mom's--then I'll ask for help to do the bloody video (i got a date! now i know how long i got to do it), start planning it, AND then I will get more of the turnaroud done this week, take good pictures of it all and post it and sign the docs to participe on the art trade event.

Now before lunch I'll also finish the transcription of my research for tomorrow

[zoueriemandzijnopmars]

@vogelmeister said: i can assure you i am ready. but can you please roast my uni bot who picked up the word "transcript" and disregarded the rest of my email, because im upset

Yeah sure! Firstly though, to defend the bot, humans also sometimes do stuff like this. I was actually reminded of this meme I once made in frustration:

I don't remember what I was asking about but it was something spelled similar to convolution mentioned in an assignment and I couldn't figure out what they meant so I set an email asking about it and I got that reply.

That brings me to my point about AI bots though, because a human, you can email back, you can clarify and they will probably own up to their mistake, because hey, miscommunications happen. Chat bots in my experience however are less good at owning up to their mistake and it is not always easy to get them to reconsider.

My mom once had an issue with Bol.com and had to chat with their chatbot Billy to resolve it, now after a while it seemed like she was getting there, but then he asked for her phone number. She typed it like 20 times before giving up because somehow he didn't recognise phone numbers? But then why ask for it? It was incredibly frustrating and confusing and to this day it is still used as an example to make fun of chatbots around our house.

The problem with many old-school chatbots is that they are programmed to follow a specific script and are not always properly programmed to deal with divergences of that script. (Side note: I say chatbot, because that's what most people call it, but the correct term for these customer service bots is dialogue system (Jurafsky & Martin, 2023) (the link leads to my favourite book on speech and language processing, I think it is written really well and it is very approachable, and they quote Agatha Christie, Jane Austen and Shakespeare))

In the case of your uni's bot it is probably programmed to handle a couple of regularly occurring tasks, like people asking for a copy of their transcripts and will hence take any e-mails mentioning them and try to handle them as it is programmed.

While this is annoying, it is not necessarily a problem, as long as chatbots are used as I think they should, namely with an option to contact an actual human at all times. Like with Billy and the phone number it would have been really nice to get to talk to a human and pass on the phone number. Unfortunately companies want to save money by only using chatbots and it can be quite difficult to get to talk to an actual human.

A bigger problem occurs with the actual 'chatbots', while early chatbots like ELIZA (Weizenbaum, 1966) were mainly used just to illustrate the possibilities of computers (and although impressive, once you know what to look for it is pretty clear the answers are generated by a surprisingly simple algorithm). They didn't come up with original thoughts and often just repeated what the user said or used the same phrase designated to keep the user talking, over and over again (e.g. Can you tell more about X).

(One interesting early concern was already privacy. Many users of ELIZA discussed quite personal topics with her which could be logged. More recent chatbots have had problems with them learning from humans and therefore accidentally repeating private information that they got told.)

The newest hot AI chatbot, chatgpt (my beloved, as my sister claims) can do very impressive things, it speaks multiple languages, it can write your code for you, it can write songs, poems, stories, and it can even do math (sometimes). I have personally mainly just played around with it but I did use it to generate a fantasy name for an oc side character in a fanfic and to generate an anagram name for the fictional app I had to pitch for an assignment. In my opinion it is pretty great for these kinds of tasks, where it can give you some suggestions and you can pick what you like best and possibly even adapt it. (Disclaimer: I said it can write your code but it is mainly good at code snippets, whole programs are a lot harder, so again it is mainly good for inspiration.)

While this would be my preferred use, what has gotten a lot of traction is the fact that it can write whole papers for people, but also that it sometimes "hallucinates" references that do not actually exist. Many AI systems have been optimised to not be wrong. My hypothesis (I am not an expert in this field and did not look at the source code) is that chatgpt has learned that it is better to guess than to not answer, quite similar to students writing an exam in school, not answering is always wrong, better make something up and hope for some points. This is why you should never trust what an AI tells you up front, it can help you do things, but you should always check the output and use your own common sense.

So far so good, chatgpt is a tool that can be used as long as the user checks the output. Similar to the earlier discussed dialogue systems, it is good to be able to have a human in the loop. The real problem with chatgp in my opinion is not that it makes mistakes, but that it refuses to own up to them. Most people who follow me here would know that I am quite the fan of the Dutch duology The Letter for the King/Secrets of the Wild Wood. I hence couldn't resist the chance to talk to chatgpt about them. There were a lot of fascinating things in that conversation, but the thing relevant to this essay is that it claimed that Piak was a thief. For people not aware of the plot of the books, Piak is a 14 year old boy, he was orphaned and has lived with Menaurus (a Gandalf-like wise old man figure) ever since, during the first book he becomes Tiuri's (the main character) best friend. He is most definitely not a thief, but chatgpt didn't accept my counter arguments and stayed by its story.

Therefore although it looks like we got a long way from the first customer service bots. Chatgpt still suffers from the same underlying problem, being programmed to optimise always being right. This means it is still unable to admit to gaps in its knowledge, it doesn't recognise when it made mistakes, and it cannot change its approach accordingly.

I have so many nuanced takes on AI that this website really is not ready for

[interact-if]

Day 5 of the Game Jam Winners Months Featured Author Interviews, starting with Khairika!

Khairika (KhairikaSinani), author of Chloe is Home

A flatmate group chat unknowingly welcomes an uninvited guest into their midst.

Read more about Chloe is Home [here]

Demo | Website

Tags: Thriller, Slice-of-life

[INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!]

Q1 . Tell us about the story you made for the Jam!

Chloe is Home is about a seemingly harmless interaction that could potentially lead to a very dangerous and unpredictable result. A group chat between four flatmates (Meghane, Sam, Kayleigh and Yourself) are expecting Meghane's cousin, Chloe, to be added to the group chat as she's on her way to spend the weekend with them. But Meghane accidentally adds the wrong number, and you're left alone to interact with Chloe unsure of whether or not there's an actual threat looming.

Q2. What was the biggest challenge in creating a game in such a short time span? How did you manage it?

I think the biggest challenge for me was to not only try to make everything flow smoothly between player choices, but to also make Chloe sit right between creepy and overly friendly.

Adding to that, keeping up with alll the changes I had to make! Gosh, that was mind boggling. Especially since I unfortunately left it all to almost the last second. At some point I got a bit lazy, but that was the tricky part. Game flow, and the touch of creep-factor in Chloe's interactions with the player.

Q3. What was your inspiration for your entry?

Long story short, it started off with a mindmap with 'cliffhanger' smack dab in the middle. Other ideas included:

- A guy called Cliff who gets turned into a hanger.

- Chatting with a person from the past/future on a computer.

- 'This chat room could literally kill you' (A Mr. Ballen video on Youtube, but a reversed POV).

* Fraternity/sorority chat room.

I liked the chat room idea, so I stuck with it. I was intrigued by the experience of being in a chat room and talking with someone who isn't who you think they are, and the different roads that could lead you down.

Regarding Chloe's character and behaviourisms, my partner suggested the movie Creep, which was really great. It perfectly balanced that bizarre-friendliness that I wanted to capture for Chloe.

(If you do decide to look at my inspo/references, be warned, they're a bit shocking)

Q4. Is this your first time working on a game like this? What do you like (or not like) about working in this format?

I've done CYOA before. Not many, probably only like 2-3 others before. I've always loved CYOA, especially those Goosebumps books as a kid? I loved finding different ways to die!

It's such an intricate and detailed format that requires a lot of planning, and that's the part that overwhelms me, but honestly, I think with practice I'll eventually get the hang of it. It's just that sometimes if the scope gets too big, and you have all these tiny little details sprinkled in between, it's really daunting and tedious to have to go through everything to make sure it all lines up smoothly.

Q5. What is your favorite part about your entry? What have you enjoyed most doing during the Jam?

I really enjoyed working with Brushmen, he was so insightful and really patient. It was really great having an extra set of eyes and he had the technical skills that I don't posses. So everytime we'd touch base and he'd input the text it was so exciting to see it all slowly come to life!

But overall favourite part of the entry is the knocks at the end. Silly, I know. It's just the one thing that gets you, cause the whole game is silent. Then suddenly, knock knock knock.

Hehe.

Q6. What is your advice for sprint projects like this one?

Don't stress. Take it easy and be ready to ADAPT. Especially if you're collaborating with others, sometimes you'll have to let your ideas go to make space for time, and even sometimes, better ideas. Trust me, we don't always know all the answers, and that's great! Stay open, stay curious and flexible. Communicate like never before and just have fun with it!

Q7. Do you have any other works you’d like to promote?

This was my first game jam ever, but I do have a few other projects that I've worked on. I guess I'll link my website here? I'm not very good with self-promo... I'm still learning, and tyring out new things. Process, process, process.

[queenshelby]

The New Assistant (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 3985

Summary: You are Cillian Murphy’s new assistant for Season 6 of Peaky Blinders.

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

Your First Day at the Peaky Blinders Set

‘Mr Murphy, I am Y/N, your new assistant’ you said as you stood 1.5 feet across from him, complying with the social distance requirements.

‘Please, just call me Cillian’ Cillian said with a smile before telling you that it is nice to meet you.

‘Sorry Mr Murphy, uhm Cillian’ you said, causing him to laugh.

‘So, here are the scripts for today and a coffee’ you said. ‘Rose told me that this is how you drink your coffee, but if you like something else just let me know’ you added.

‘Thanks Y/N, it’s perfect’ Cillian said as he took a sip and getting on with his work.

You only recently began watching Peaky Blinders as you applied for the job and you couldn’t believe that, when you met Cillian, he had as much charisma as he displayed on camera.

His piercing blue eyes and smile were almost hypnotising, yet he seemed kind and down to earth.

You noticed that he was lost in his own little world as you observed him work for the morning. It was like he transformed into Thomas Shelby and, every time he spoke to you, it took him a little while to lose his Birmingham accent.

After you accompanied him on set for five hours, he asked you whether you could prepare the scenes for the next day for him.

You drew up a schedule for him, putting together transcript for each scene. You made two copies and placed them in small folders.

You were very organised and he appreciated it.

‘Two folders? Please tell me that they are not both for me’ he said with a slight worry as he stepped back into his trailer after finishing off for the day.

‘No, just one is for you. The other one is for me. Rose said that you like to rehearse your scenes in advance’ you said before offering him to rehearse the scenes with him.

‘Yes, but I usually do this alone’ Cillian said with a smile.

‘You sure? I mean, I am not a good actor but I did take some drama classes back in high school many years ago and I could point out any mistakes with the lines as I read along’ you said with some slight laughter as you pointed at the script.

‘Well, I suppose why not. This could be fun’ Cillian said, gladly accepting your offer. After all, it was better to have some company than talking to himself in the mirror.

‘Alright let’s do it then’ you said as you sat down on the small lounge in his trailer, giving him little time to prepare.

After Cillian took 15 minutes to read the scripts, he put the folder down on the table. You couldn’t believe that he remembered the lines already.

‘Alright Y/N, Scene 7, let’s go’ he said with a cheeky smile, waiting for your acting skills to surface.

‘Thomas, you cannot be serious’ you said putting in a terribly bad Birmingham accent, causing Cillian to a have a slight chuckle. You tried very hard to stay serious.

‘You should know that I am serious Lizzie’ Cillian responded, having memorised his script, Tommy’s thick accent surfacing.

‘You are going to get us killed Thomas. But you don’t care, do you? You never cared’ you said, improving slightly in your tone.

‘When have I not cared for you Lizzie, ey?’ Cillian said before continuing on with his lines.

The script was slowly moving towards the intimate scene between Tommy and Lizzie but you were only rehearsing the words, not the actions. A shame you thought, but you knew you had to remain professional.

‘Lizzie, you need to understand that this is what I need’ Cillian said as he went on. In the script this would be where Tommy steps closer towards Lizzie, wearing nothing but his black suit pants.

‘Oh trust me Tommy, I know what you need. Just fucking kiss me already’ you said, biting your lips and feeling slightly awkward as you spoke the line with such passion. Your thoughts wandered to the scene, playing it out in your head.

‘You should consider a career in acting Y/N’ Cillian smirked as he didn’t continue with the script. He became to notice that you were feeling slightly awkward.

‘I don’t think so’ you said shyly as you starred into his deep blue eyes. There was an awkward silence between you until Cillian finally spoke again.

‘Can we do this again?’ Cillian asked as he noticed that he missed a couple of words within his lines. You didn’t want to point the mistakes out to him as, in your mind, he was perfect.

You agreed to another round of rehearsals and all went smoothly the second time around until you reached the final line.

‘Oh trust me Tommy, I know what you need. Just fucking kiss me already’ you said, inhaling deeply before taking a break.

‘You sure do Lizzie’ Cillian said as he finished off the script for Scene 7, causing you to simply stare at Cillian.

‘And then Tommy gets to romp Lizzie’ Cillian said laughing before he suggested that you rehearse the next scene with him.

‘Lucky Lizzie’ you giggled just before you realised what you had just said.

‘I am not so sure, it looks pretty rough’ Cillian said as he flicked through the script.

‘Well, some women like it like this’ you said.

‘So I’ve heard’ Cillian said, not sure where this conversation was going.

‘How do you do it, acting scenes like this?’ you asked curiously, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Well, you just switch off and do it, I suppose’ Cillian chuckled.

‘You know you still missed a word here’ you said shyly. ‘Do you want to try again?’ you said, causing Cillian to nod.

Without missing a single word, Cillian acted his entire script for the scene until your line came up once again.

‘Oh trust me Tommy, I know what you need. Just fucking kiss me already’ you said.

‘You sure do Lizzie’ Cillian responded, but you weren’t finished with your script this time.

Having read on from the last time, you knew what was happening in the script. Tommy and Lizzie were getting it on but not before Tommy grabs hold of Lizzie’s throat, looking into her eyes without speaking a word. His eyes were doing the talking in the end of the scene. So, you went on, finishing Lizzie’s final line before the cut.  

‘Don’t you want to fuck me?’ you asked with your eyes full of fire.

‘What?’ Cillian asked surprised.

‘That’s Lizzie’s last line and the final line in the script for Scene 7’ you answered.

‘Right, yes’ Cillian said, blushing slightly before an awkward silence erupted once again.

‘Shall we go the next scene now?’ you asked, causing Cillian to nod.

Acting it Out

The next day, you got to watch the scene you had rehearsed with Cillian the evening before and you couldn’t help it but be amazed by his acting skills.

At the same time, you were somewhat turned on by watching him with Lizzie, roughly throwing her onto the bed before taking her from behind.

You would have loved being in her shoes for a moment, but for real.

‘I watched your scene with the script in my hand, it was perfect’ you smiled as you gave Cillian some clothes to cover his half naked body.

You couldn’t help it but gaze over his freckled chest as he stepped closer and he was sure to notice.

‘Well, I had some good practice’ he smiled, not bothered by the fact that he was half naked and that you were clearly staring at him.

‘I am always here to help Cillian’ you said as you handed him the script for the next scene.

‘Thanks Y/N’ Cillian said before getting ready for the next scene.

The day went fast and Cillian pretty much disappeared to his apartment right after the day was finished.

As you went into his trailer to get your handbag, you noticed that he left his notes.

You knew that he was going to look for them to rehearse before tomorrow and decided to drop them off to him.

You were staying at the same hotel building so it wasn’t an inconvenience.

As you arrived at the hotel, you knocked on his door and he was quick to open.

‘You left this on set’ you said as you handed Cillian his notes.

‘Thank you Y/N’ he said before taking a pause.

He noticed that you were gazing into his apartment through the open door and raised his eyebrows slightly, smiling at you. It was like his eyes were asking you what you were doing without his mouth actually moving.

‘Oh sorry, I was just trying to see what the score was. I don’t have pay tv in my room’ you said with embarrassment, pointing at the TV.

‘Uhm, right. Would you like to come in and watch the game with me? I’ll even put on a shirt’ Cillian asked with smirk.

‘You know we aren’t allowed, with social distancing and so forth’ you said.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t’ Cillian said with a chuckle. He knew it wouldn’t have mattered as you spent a lot of time together already.

‘Alright then, it can stay our little secret’ you said as you walked inside his studio apartment.

Cillian was quick to put on a t-shirt, although you would have preferred if he didn’t.

‘You never mentioned that you liked soccer’ he said.

‘It never came up’ you responded, still somewhat nervous by his presence, being in his apartment.

But, you soon relaxed and sat down on the lounge with him.

Cillian offered you some wine as you were watching the second half of the game.

It was a tight finish with a score of 1-0. The last goal was scored in the final 10 minutes and it was nerve wrecking.

Cillian’s team won and you couldn’t help it but be a little disappointed as you were cheering for the opposite team.

‘Tomorrow is going to be a busy day’ you said as the game had finished, not knowing what else to say.

‘Yes, I am not looking forward to it’ Cillian said leaning forward to pour some more wine, cringing a bit as he moved.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked as you noticed that he seemed uncomfortable as he leaned forward.

‘Yes, I just hurt my back earlier during one of the scenes’ Cillian said.

‘Where does it hurt?’ you asked as you began tapping over his back, causing Cillian to look at you with surprise.

‘Oh god sorry’ you said, removing your hands quickly. ‘Bad habit’ you were quick to say.

‘Bad habit ey?’ Cillian asked with a smile.

‘Before COVID I was a physiotherapy student’ you explained. ‘I like to fix people’ you added with a laugh.

‘Right’ Cillian responded with a warm smile.

‘Would you like me to take a look and see if I can fix the pain?’ you asked.

‘Now that would defiantly break social distancing requirements’ Cillian chuckled.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t’ you said with grin on your face, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Alright then, give it a crack’ he said.

‘Take off your shirt’ you said, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows again before obliging with your request. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already seen him half naked.

You climbed behind him and couldn’t help but stare at his freckled skin again as you began to run your hands over his back, pressing hard on several trigger points until he eventually cringed.

‘Is that where it hurts?’ you asked.

‘Yes, fuck’ he said after you pressed down on the area harshly.

‘Sorry, but this might hurt a little’ you said while beginning to massage the area.

After about two minutes, the pain subsided but Cillian didn’t think to tell you. Instead, he let you continue with the movements. He began to enjoy the massage you were giving him.

‘That feels better’ you said, noticing the tension in his back disappearing slowly.

‘It does, but I don’t think I want you to stop now’ Cillian said jokingly.

‘I can keep going, if you like’ you said, moving your hands to other regions of his back while breathing in the sweet scent of his aftershave.

As your hands moved to his shoulders and over, slightly towards his chest, Cillian could feel a tingling sensation emerging in between his legs.

Hoping that you wouldn’t notice what was building up in between his legs, he placed his t-shirt across them, hiding his emerging erection.  

As you continued the massage for a few more minutes and he noticed that his erection would not go back down, he felt the need to tell you to stop, but he couldn’t bring it across his lips. It felt too nice and pleasurable.

Your hands were roaming across his back, up and down and you began to notice his breathing getting heavier.

As your hands suddenly stopped on his lower back he looked back over his shoulder, not realising that this was exactly where your face was at this moment.

His blue eyes gazed into yours for a moment as there was an awkward silence between you.

As you starred at him, your hands moved up again, causing him to breath in heavily once more.

In that moment, with your hands still wandering up his back, you leaned forward in sixty-degree angle, pressing your chest against his back and brushing his lips with yours.

Cillian gave into the kiss, turning around slightly to caress your face and pull you closer towards him. The kiss was intensifying and became more urgent with every moment.

‘I think all of the social distancing is out of the window now’ Cillian chuckled as your lips drifted apart and you climbed away from behind him.

Within just seconds, you pulled your t-shirt over your head and climbed onto his lap with one leg placed on each side of him before leaning in for another kiss.

Cillian ran his hands over your back as you exchanged a passionate kiss and you could feel his erection beneath you.

‘Let’s take our rehearsals a bit further, shall we?’ you said in between kisses as you grinded yourself against him.

‘We shouldn’t, you are my assistant’ Cillian responded while running his hands over your breasts, without any intention of stopping.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t’ you giggled as you stood up, taking off your jeans as well and letting them drop to the floor.

Cillian gazed over your body, taking in everything and admiring your curves.

‘I suppose it can stay our little secret, although I think it’s a bad idea Y/N’ Cillian said as he stood up in front of you, pressing his lips against yours while you reached for the zipper of his jeans.  

‘I think it’s a great idea. We both want this and need to get it out of our systems so that we can work well together. Despite, you are stressed, let me be a good assistant and relief that stress of yours’ you smirked as your hand ran beneath his briefs, taking hold of his erect cock.

Without responding to your comment, he pressed his lips onto yours again before guiding you backwards towards his bed.  

‘If I'd have known we'd be doing this I wouldn't have worn this’ you added, looking down at the underwear.

Cillian grabbed your chin lightly and pressed his lips to yours for a short moment.

‘It’s coming off anyway’ he winked at you before reaching behind you to unclip your bra. His gaze dropping to your small but perky breasts.

He took them in his hands grabbing onto them gently before pushing you onto the bed.

Next his hands went to your panties and pulled them down your legs and before you knew it you were laying on his bed completely naked and Cillian’s deep blue eyes devoured you.

You didn't feel self-conscious like you usually would because you could tell from that look in his eyes and his facial expression that he clearly liked what he saw.

Cillian’s eyes locked on yours as you sat up against the pillows and his fingers went into his waist band pulling down his briefs.

His erection stood proudly pointing at you and you weren’t disappointed with that either, he sure was packing down there!

He climbed onto the bed and pulled your legs apart, kneeling in between.

‘Is it bad that I’ve been fantasising about this?’ Cillian asked, still gazing over your naked body.

‘No. I've wanted this too’ you admitted, your eyes fixated on his hand moving up and down that cock of his.

‘I always had to touch myself whenever I went to bed because I wanted you so much’ you said.

‘Show me’ he breathed out, your eyes closing at his words and then opening as your hand slid down your body and stroked through your already damp folds.

He groaned as you pushed two fingers into your wetness.

With a quickness you had never witnessed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist and raised your fingers to his mouth, his eyes closing as his full lips wrap around your fingers sucking off your juices.

He then grabbed onto your other wrist and pinned them both above your head as he leaned down and ran kisses over your breasts and trailing them all the way down to your wet folds.

His hand went in between your legs, instantly finding your clit. He began to rub it, in small slow circles while his tongue ran through your wetness.

‘Fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as your hands reached down and grabbed onto his shoulders.

His movements became quicker and he increased the pressure, pressing down harder and harder. He then replaced his finger with his tongue on your clit as he shoved two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly in and out.

‘You're so fucking wet Y/N’ Cillian groaned, his eyes never leaving yours.

His fingers soon curled upwards against your g-spot as he continued to pump them in and out of you.

You gasped out at the sensation and could feel yourself racing towards your first orgasm of the night and you had a sneaky feeling that it most definitely wouldn't be the last.

As his force and speed increased so did your moans and you reached down and gripped his hair, pulling on it.

‘That’s it, oh god’ you moaned loudly as your walls began clenching around your fingers while your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian slowed down the finger action and let go of your clit then wickedly flicked his tongue against it once more making you flinch.

He grinned at you as he moved up your body and then took your mouth in a deep kiss.

You shoved your tongue into his mouth, tasting your own arousal and then somehow flipped him over so you were straddling his hips.

You tasted the skin of his neck. Then you made your way down that freckled chest, gently biting his left nipple on the way down.

You licked at his toned abs and then reached that hard as steel erection that was already oozing precum. His breathing was becoming deeper as you encircled your hand around him and pumped a couple times before flicking your tongue against the head.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as his hand reached for your hair while you began bopping up and down his shaft.

You enjoyed the taste of his precum as you continued your movements for several moments while using your fingers to play with his balls.

He loved every moment of it but, after a while, had to ask you to stop for obvious reasons.

You obliged. You wanted him inside of you badly.

Cillian then reached for the bedside table, grabbing a condom from the draw and putting into his hard cock.

Before he could change position you climbed on top of him.

‘No need to be gentle, I like it just like Lizzie does’ you smirked, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head as your pussy slid over his hard cock and you guided it inside of you.

You were unbelievably tight causing Cillian to moan out load on that first stroke.

Your hands were resting on his chest as you slowly raised yourself up and then dropped back down over and over teasing him to the point where his hands were digging into your thighs.

You began to quicken your pace, riding him faster and faster.

Cillian held onto your hips as he thrust his up to your stroke by stroke unknowingly getting faster until he was holding you up and thrusting into you so hard and fast that you were crying out his name.

It was obvious to you that he also liked it rough and, as soon as your walls began to contract around him, he flipped you over onto your back.

He wanted to take control and you were absolutely fine with that.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to thrust into your tight hole for several more minutes.

Unhooking your legs from around him, Cillian leaned up and rested them over his shoulders before increasing his pace.

His hand reached down and began rubbing your swollen clit, making you cry out once again continuously.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as you were so close again.

Just as your walls began tightening around his hard cock, he pulled out of you.

‘Not yet’ he smirked before he told you to get on your hands and knees.

‘Please Cillian, just fuck me’ you pleaded as he was tasing your entrance with his hard cock from behind you.

‘As you wish’ he said as, all of a sudden, with one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you again.

You cried out as he entered you and his thrusting was slowing down for a moment as he pushed his hips into you as deep as humanly possible.

The thrust was hard and deep, but he soon picked up pace again.

‘Oh god yes. Fuck me hard’ you groaned out into the pillow beneath you.

That was all he needed to hear, his hips slamming into you harshly as you pushed your back.

Second later, remembering the scene between Tommy and Lizzie, he grabbed a handful of your silky hair and pulled on it, making you arch your back as he fucked you from behind.

‘Yes, don’t stop’ you moaned as his speed picked up more and more with each thrust.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned, his hands regaining their grip on your waist.

‘Oh my god Cillian’ you moaned, your voice muffled by the pillow and your walls tightening around his cock.

Your orgasm came running over you like a speed train as you screamed loudly, sending Cillian over the edge also.

Within seconds of your own orgasm, Cillian found his release, his thrusts slowing down as he rode out his orgasm.

‘Fuck’ was all he managed to say as he pulled out of you and disposed the condom filled with his sweet cum.

You were still huffing, your body limb just as he collapsed next to you.

‘Feeling better now?’ you grinned.

‘Yes actually’ he smiled before giving you a quick kiss.

After you spent about ten minutes curled up with each other it was time for you to leave. After all, you both had a busy day ahead.

‘So, just let me know if you ever need some more stress relief’ you smirked as you said goodnight.

[autumnslance]

Hello! I was wondering if you could help me answer a lore question from EW. Were the Ancient souls sacrificed to Zodiark sundered as well when Hydaelyn sundered Zodiark? There are fragments of Him on other Shards & I thought the souls were sundered and residing in those fragments across Shards as well. But contradicting this is Hythlodaeus - an Ancient sacrificed to Zodiark - who uses creations magic at the end in Ultima Thule, something only unsundered are capable of. Your thoughts?

I’m going to spam a bunch of Q&A from the 68th Producer Live Letter from February 2022 here to start (taken from the Reddit translation team’s transcriptions on Discord). Also the answer is long and spoilery for all of Endwalker, so behind a cut it goes.

Q: Were Zodiark and Hydaelyn completely destroyed? Or there are still Sundered parts of them on other Reflections?

A: To be really frank on this one and to give you a very straight answer here, **Hydaelyn was completely destroyed**. Similarly, **Fandaniel crushed Zodiark’s heart which is his core and that completely destroys Zodiark**. There were of course parts of Zodiark in the other Reflections when he was sealed and split across all of them but at the same time of **his main body was destroyed, they all would have also faded into oblivion**.

Q: The Source’s Moon was made to imprison Zodiark after the Sundering, but what about the First’s Moon? Was Etheirys the only thing divided among parallel dimensions, or did the Sundering affect the surrounding and part of the outer space too?

A: First of all, I want to tell you that the Reflection’s Moon **have their own significance**. They do, but I can’t talk about it. So after the Sundering, Zodiark was imprisoned in the moon that we know. Moons were created and appeared in all other Reflections with pieces of Zodiark in them as well. We’re going to show this properly later/in future patches so I can’t show you now but yes there’s some meaning to it.

About Emet and Hyth specifically:

Q: As I understand here, Emet-Selch and Hytholodaeus returned to the Aetherial Sea so they can now be reborn. If their souls are reincarnated will they be able to use Creation Magics like the Ascians?

A: Well their souls have been cleansed while being in the Aetherial Sea so even if we say they’re reincarnated that’s just their souls being reborn into new bodies in the Source just like everyone else. As for what will happen if they were reincarnated in that fashion we’ve never had any example of someone who was unsundered being reincarnated like this, so we can’t really say it for sure. I think they’d just be a normal person but maybe a bit cooler? a little bit better? But there’s really no way to say.

In my opinion (in Japanese: This is just my imagination running here), they really at the end accomplished everything they have set out to do so their souls will be completely purified and I don’t know if they even really want to come back, I mean they have nothing remaining, they have no lingering memories to address.

There’s some lack of clarity here, and plenty of wiggle room, I think. At least until they get around to showing us those other moons. Maybe.

The other pieces of Zodiark across the reflections were destroyed when His core was. The WoL only weakened the possessed god, with the Watcher ready to reactivate the bindings holding Him physically in the Cradle. Amon however planned to die spectacularly and take the world with him by using Zodiark's death to trigger the Final Days.

Physical bits of Zodiark were missing, but it seemed that so long as the essential core of Him was present to sustain the aetheric protection on the world, those missing bits just kept Him weakened and able to remain bound.

So, either Zodiark (or the Cradle) is a nexus point similar to the Crystal Tower, where the Rift doesn't matter/can be traversed/exist at each corresponding point at once (and therefore so do the souls comprising Him), OR the souls only exist with His heart in the Source Moon, since they essentially are Him.

Could also be a difference of having been Rejoined (either during the Calamities, or in the instant of Zodiark's death) while also never having been Reincarnated; they retained all their memories and knowledge while languishing in the purgatory of their god's being, until they suddenly weren't anymore.

Note also there's confusion on whether or not Hydaelyn is actually sundered; the Watcher seemed to think so, but none of the other text, Her direct words, Elidibus' comment about Her being "the last of us", or the Dev comments, indicate that she is. Wouldn't be the first time She didn't give her servants the whole truth to guide events toward the Final Days and potential victory (even accounting for the heavy revisions to the story done post-HW).

(I also do wonder how many times She and WoLs of other ages/reflections did thwart Ascian plans; Calamities are easier to track than successes.)

As for the events on Ultima Thule, I considered yet another option: how much of that magic was Hythlodaeus, how much was Emet-Selch, and how much was the WoL themselves, channeling that realm's dynamis through two old ghosts and Venat's last magic in the Azem Crystal to find that sliver of hope and reshape that space?

[t0shii]

hq boys when you're feeling anxious or stressed

suna rintaro, hinata shoyo, oikawa toru x gn!r

!warnings! mentions of anxiety, reader comparing themselves to others, mentions of food & hunger, driving. this is like all fluff no angst rlly tbh.

SUNA RINTARO.

he could tell something was up but conviced himself he shouldnt pry as he had already asked you twice if you were feeling alright, to which you reasurred him with a "yep" both times, it was suspicious but he thought maybe you just wanted to be left alone. meanwhile you weren't sure why you lied him, you obviously were not doing okay at the moment. currently he was driving you home and your anxiety was going absolutely crazy from the amount of school work that was piling up on you, it's unfair you thought to yourself, looking out the window. not only were you stressed from work but trying to keep up with your friend was hard, to say the least. they were phenomenal students, straight As in their transcript and though your grades were just fine, you couldn't help but feel inferior and insecure. it's unfair how effortlessly smart they are and how i'll never be able to catch up.... oh boy if your thoughts weren't running wild before they definitely were now, you hadn't even realized your boyfriend pulling into your driveway until he slightly tapped your shoulder. "are you sure you're alright? i don't wanna pressure you ofcourse but, you know you can tell me anything right?" ... and there were the water works! the little string holding you together had snapped just like that. you sat there in the passengers seat sobbing into your hands and suna rintaro hadn't a clue what to do in the moment.

"give me just a sec" you heard him mumble but not before he gave you a kiss as light as a feather on the top of your head. somehow you didn't notice him exit the car and rush to your side until he opened your door and hugged you so tight you honestly couldn't breathe. after a few seconds your boyfriend let go of the embrace which, to his dismay, only made you cry even harder. now, he knew he was known for being quite... stoic but he was definitely panicking on the inside and it was really difficult to remain calm on the outside. your boyfriend carefully reached over you to unbuckle the seatbelt that you had yet to unclasp. "lets go inside baby." his voice was so gentle it would've taken you by surprise had you not still been crying. you nodded in response and he helped you carefully out of the car, holding your hand all the way to the door, "d'ya have your key?" you nodded trying your best to unlock the door, after a few struggled and shakey attempts you finally had your door unlocked but not without rins help because he couldn't bare to watch you struggle any longer.

stepping inside rin helped you take your shoes off, removing his own after, "bedroom?" having calmed down a little you whispered "yes," with a small nod. he nodded with you in response and took you to your bedroom. after helping you change into comfy clothes he helped you into bed, crawling in right behind you. your back was snug against his chest and he held you super tightly, it was silent for a few minutes until finally he spoke up, "please tell me how i can help" you could feel your lip quiver. "well... you don't have to say anything right now, you know i can wait. i'll even leave if you want, i just wanted you to know that you can tell me whenever you're ready and that i'll listen." neither of you were sure when you'd be ready to admit what had gotten you so upset but you felt comfortable knowing suna rintaro would be there whenever you were ready, whether it be minutes from now or even months.

HINATA SHOYO.

your silence on the walk home was starting to concern him.. maybe im just talking too much... he thought, "hey... im sorry if im talking your ear off.. how was your day angel?" to say he was disappointed with your response would be an understatement. not thar you HAD to talk but usually you were talkative with him and the worry in his tummy was only growing more. a simple, "oh.. my day was alright sho," simply woundn't cut it! "hey, are you feeling okay?" it was silent for a few seconds before you answered a mumbled "i think so, are you feeling alright, sho?" he simply nodded with a "mhm" and you told him to continue on with his story from earlier.

he complied but only to fill the silence. hinata decided to trust you when you said you were okay because you know your own feelings and he knows for a fact he's made it clear before that you could and should let him know if something was bothering you. though you enjoyed listening to hinata's stories you only found yourself getting lost in your own mind whilst he rambled on.you could tell he was suspicious of your behavior but was grateful he had left his curiosity behind because you were sure you would snap if he had asked you if you were okay again, you really didn't want to cry in front of him. truth is, your thoughts were running wild, stressing over the smallest things; assignments due at the end of the week, what you were gonna get your boyfriend for your anniversary, how you were gonna make time for your friends surprise birthday party and helping sho with his studied all the while trying to take care of your own self and keep your own grades afloat. "y/n..? we're at your house.. are you sure your alright? you look a little pale, are you ill?" crap! how had you not noticed you were approaching your own driveway you wanted to slap yourself for being so clueless. you couldn't help but feel horrible for not listening to your boyfriends story also.

"yes sho i'm fine really, i just didn't have time to eat lunch today but i have food inside so don't worry m'may?" he looked at you suspiciously and you knew he was onto you, "y'know y/n, i'm not gonna force you to tell me what's going on but just know i'll always be here for you, okay?" he gave you a small smile before engulfing you into a tight hug, it honestly melted your heart. surprisingly, you didn't start crying on the spot. "y'know, i wanted to trust you when you said you were okay but now i'm not so sure if you were telling the truth," he mumbled into your shoulder. you sighed, giving up the facade. "sho.... i just don't know what to do honestly, i have alot on my plate right now and i'm really stressed with all the responsibilities ive piled onto myself," you admitted. he nodded lifting his head from your shoulder, giving you the brightest smile, "well, i can always help out! i might not be the mooost helpful person ever but i'll try my best, and if anything i'm good moral support!" you giggled at that but suddenly you felt your lip quiver from the sudden guilt you feeling, "i'm sorry for lying to you sho-", "hey! its alright! you dont need to apologize. especially dont need you crying on me now!" he smiled cupping your face in his hands, wiping away a few stray tears of whom managed to escape.

OIKAWA TORU.

you smile back at him and thought of how silly it was that you tried keeping your feelings a secret from your boyfriend of two years, hinata shoyo, feeling glad that you confided in him. he knew you were upset as soon as he saw you that very morning, he could read you like and open book and you knew that fact very well. still though, you tried your best to hide yourself from him, though it was hard considering you sitting right next to him in the passenger seat of his car. finally after a whole day of being worried sick, he was tired of leaving things left unsaid "babyyyy," he sang for you from the kitchen, "please come here a sec!" he yelled for you louder. soon you came trudging down the hallway, blanket wrapped around your body, he couldn't help but smile at how adorable his s/o looked.

"c'mere quickly," he said will a grin, opening his arms for a hug, which you gladly accept, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. "now, i know you know that i know that you're not feeling well, so please tell me what's got my angel so upset?" he said softly rubbing his hand lightly over your back, his voice a little muffled from his cheek being squished against the top of your head. you let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding, "'m sorry tooru, i don't know what's wrong with me today.... just not feeling well." you felt him nod against your head in response, "well good thing your amazing boyfriend is here to make you feel all better huh?" you let a out small giggle at that. "you know you can tell me when you're feeling down right? you shouldn't keep things bottled up inside", "i know tooru... im sorry, i just dont really know wbat i'm feeling so down about though," you admitted shyly. "hey that's okay! there absolutely no need to apologize for that, here, look at me, angel," he tilts your face so you're looking up at him, his big soft hands holding your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks lightly, "i'm here whenever you figure it out, hell, even if you dont figure it out or there just isn't any reason at all. you know i'm always, always, always here. i promise you that, m'kay?" he finishes his little speech with a smile, smothering your face in kisses. you could only feel relieved, thankful and loved. because you knew that you would always have your soulmate, oikawa toru by your side.

( a/n ; ahh so im sorry if this has any spelling or grammatical errors it's sort of late as i'm writing this! and im too lazy to proof read.... also it might just all be word vomit and if it is im so sorry 😩 ++ i'm positive ive kept the reader gn throughout the whole thing but if there are slip-ups i promise i'll do better next time! i rlly wanted to write some hq boys when ur feeling anxious and beyond stressed because i have been MEGA struggling with my own anxiety lately, especially bc of school so i just needed to let my feelings go! anywhooo i hope everyone who reads this has an amazing day or night! ) p.s. im new to writing so be nice 2 me or whatever 😩🙄😌👍🏻

[oneisallallisone]

All I Know, All I Know Greedling x Reader fic Chapter 2

In a land ruled by alchemy, there are some who would call you a sorcerer. You intend to understand what this means. Along your journey you end up getting mixed up with two strange brothers, a military conspiracy, a potentially world-ending event, and the avarice of something more than human.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

_______________________________________________________________________

All I Know, All I Know

Chapter 2: The Agreement

The metal boy remained very still. But the blonde boy burst into sudden laughter. 

“A-a sorcerer?” he stammered. “Come on, I thought you were going to tell me the truth. Sorcerers don’t exist.” 

“Your companion said it himself,” you argued, “I didn’t perform any transmutations. You both saw. Whatever this is, it’s not alchemy.” 

“Yeah, well, the concept of sorcery spits right in the face of alchemy!” the blonde shot back. “Alchemy follows the law of equivalent exchange, in order to obtain something you must give up something of equal value. These are the laws of the universe as much as they are the laws of alchemy, and nothing can bypass the laws of the universe. Unless…” 

There was a sharp intake of breath from the suit of armor as his companion’s voice trailed off. “A Philosopher’s Stone.” 

The blonde boy grinned almost wickedly. “You have one, don’t you?” 

“A what?” you asked. 

He took a step closer to you. “A Philosopher’s Stone. An all-powerful artifact from legend that ignores the laws of equivalent exchange and allows its user to will practically anything into existence. You have one, right?” 

You took a step back. A heavily charred book crumpled to ashes near your feet .“No. I carry no such stone.” 

“Liar.” 

“I swear!” 

“There is no such thing as a sorcerer!” 

“Brother,” the armored boy placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, halting his steps towards you. “Many people say that there’s no such thing as a Philosopher’s Stone either. Maybe on our hunt for the impossible, it makes sense that we run into something else impossible too.” 

Your gaze shifted to the metal boy. His fixed expression was that of a cold, unchanging helmet, but his voice had been soft when he spoke. And you could have sworn he gave you the slightest bit of a nod when your eyes met his. 

The blonde considered his brother’s words for a moment, his eyes still studying you. Your hand had traveled up to the collar of your bearskin cloak, as it so often did when you felt nervous. The violet energy was gone now, but you felt it lapping just beneath the surface of your skin, ready to spring forth if you felt even the slightest bit more threatened. 

“What’s your name?” the blonde finally asked. 

“I am (y/n).”

“(y/n),” he repeated. “I’m Edward Elric, and this is my brother Alphonse. I think we can help each other out.” 

The agreement was simple. The Elrics would help you try to figure out the nature of your abilities, and in return you would assist them in their pursuit of their goals. Just another equivalent exchange, as Ed would say. 

You’d learned that the brothers were in search of a way to get their old bodies back—Ed having lost an arm and a leg, and Al having lost his entire body in a horrific alchemical accident. When pressed further about the details surrounding the accident, both of the brothers became very quiet. Sometimes it felt like learning the truth about them was going to be as impossible as learning the truth about yourself. 

“Ed?” You called as you knocked on the door of the brothers’ hotel room. “Al? Are you in there?” 

Several days had passed since the three of you had spoken with a woman named Sheska—a former employee at the National Central First Branch, who offered to provide transcripts of all the research the Elrics were looking for—and, after sitting alone in your room and reading for days, you found yourself at a dead end. The books you’d borrowed from the National Central Main Library hadn’t given you any insight into your powers at all. 

The door opened slowly, and you were greeted by the sight of Al. “Oh, hey (y/n). What’s going on?” 

He moved aside for you to enter the room. You nodded at him, sinking onto the couch once you were inside. “I haven’t been able to uncover anything. If there is any written record of other individuals with abilities like mine, it’s not in the Main Library.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Al said, sitting on the other couch across from you. 

“Eh, it just means I have to start looking elsewhere, I suppose,” you said. “What about you and Ed? Have you made any progress?” 

“I wish we hadn’t.” A door had opened near the small kitchenette. Edward came walking into the room, his hair down instead of in the usual braid it was normally tied back in. His eyes were downcast, dark bags hanging on the skin underneath. 

“You look terrible,” you said. 

“Wonderful to see you too again, (y/n).” He took a seat next to Al. 

“I take it you…didn’t find what you were expecting?” 

The brothers were silent for a while. The room was dim, filled with low candle light and the aura of the moon. A cool wind ruffled the curtains of the open window. 

“No.” Al stated simply. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. “If it means anything, I found absolutely nothing of what I hoped for. So you’re already doing better than me, at least.”  

Ed forced out a bitter laugh. “I’m not so sure about that, (y/n). I’m really not so sure.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means, well…” Al’s voice trailed off. He looked down to his older brother, and Ed gave him a short, resigned nod. “It means that we did find something. But it’s horrible. It’s making us sick to think about.” 

“What is it?” you pressed. 

A silence fell over the room again. 

You softened your voice the next time you spoke. “We made an agreement with each other. You help me, and I help you. You’ve already given me my own room to stay in while I’m in Central, and you’ve checked out books from the Main Library for me. You’ve helped me, so…let me help you.” 

For the first time since walking into the room, Ed’s eyes met yours. “We were successful in deciphering Dr. Marcoh’s notes. The Philosopher’s Stone isn’t just a myth, it’s real. But the main ingredient to make them is human life.” 

Your stomach dropped just as another cool wind wafted into the room. “Oh…oh no.” You were shaking your head. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” 

Ed just shrugged in response. Al had closed his eyes, the usual red pinpricks of light beneath his helmet gone. It felt like you were an outsider, watching this grief you could not understand. Yes the revelation about the ingredients of a Philosopher’s Stone was horrific, but you knew that whatever sinking emotion it caused was only amplified by the agony of why the brothers needed the Stone in the first place. A reason that they still had not even whispered to you yet. 

You didn’t understand the weight of what they were going through. But you could tell it was crushing. And they needed their space. 

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.” Slowly you stood up from the couch and made your way to the door. You glanced back once before slipping into the hallway, eyes searching over the brothers yet again. Al still had not opened his eyes. Ed was curling up on his side. 

At some point you registered a loud banging on your door. 

“(y/n)!” the voice called. “(y/n), open up!” 

Having not bothered to change into pajamas that night, you sprung from your bed fully clothed and rushed to the door. A wide-eyed Edward Elric stood there on the other side, with Alphonse right behind him. 

“Good, you’re awake,” Ed said, pushing into the room. 

“Yeah, I am now,” you half grumbled. “What time is it?” 

“Early.” 

“Is everything alright?” you knew the answer was objectively, probably, no. But after the state you had left the boys in, you felt it was only proper to ask. 

Ed turned to you, his expression surprisingly very different from where you last left him on the couch. His eyes were alight with that usual spark you had come to recognize, and his mouth curled upwards in a grin. “We have a hunch. There might be more to the truth about the Philosopher’s Stone than meets the eye, and we know where to go to investigate more.” 

“Okay?” 

“Brother is trying to ask if you’d be willing to come with us,” Al said. 

You looked back and forth between the boys. “Where exactly would we be going?” 

“There’s an old building that was designed to be a government laboratory not too far from here,” Ed explained. “It’s supposedly been classified as ‘off limits’ for a long time due to structural imbalances, but it might be hiding something beneath the surface. Al and I think we can find more information about the Philosopher’s Stone there.” 

“Why? I thought you were giving up on your search for it after learning what the main ingredient was.” 

“It’s like Dr. Marcoh told us,” Ed said. “We have to search for the truth within the truth. There could still be more about the Stone we don’t know, and we can’t pass this up.” 

You leaned an elbow back against the counter. “And you want me to come with you because…?” 

Ed shrugged. “Maybe you could find something there too.” 

“Plus we might be in need of your powers,” Al said. “Brother and I have a tendency to run into trouble, and we have no idea what we could find at this laboratory. One more person with us might help even our odds.” 

You thought about it for a moment. “This building. You said it was ‘off limits,’ right?” 

“Yup,” Al said. 

“And you intend to poke around to see if you can unveil some secrets that are potentially  hidden inside a government building, and you’re asking me if I’m willing to trespass with you?” You thought back to your home in Drachma. How the Briggs mountains were so close, though it was never safe enough to go to them. “Do you have any idea what could happen to me if your government officials find a Drachman citizen just casually breaking into a restricted municipal facility?” 

Ed’s grin widened into a smirk. “That just means we won’t have to get caught.” 

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: @honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

[zerolostwalks]

Transcript for The Jacket

Thanks, this was actually my brother’s jacket. I barely even knew him and he probably barely even knew I existed. All right, listen

Growing up it was just my mom and I. She’d vaguely mention my dad from time to time, but it wasn’t ever much. She tried to tell me it didn’t matter. One day she let slip that he wasn’t around because he apparently had a family of his own. 

You’d think I’d get upset, right? Call me young, naïve, stubborn, foolish, selfish even, but I loved the idea of there being this whole other ready-made family I could maybe slip into. I kept begging my mom to tell me who they were. I didn’t understand why she would hide them from me.

She let the name slip out once. In a conversation I happened to overhear. Took me a bit to figure out where they lived, or at least where I thought they might live. God I was such a dumb kid.

Once I thought I knew where they lived, I'd go and just like, watch their house. Part of me wanted to go and knock on their door and I don’t know, not exactly sure what I was hoping for. Anyway, all I could manage was to just go and hover and watch. Scared to make my mom mad. Scared that it was the wrong house. Scared to have my half baked dreams shattered, even if I was too far in my own delusional denial to fully realize that last one. 

Reggie and I talked once. We’d actually spotted each other a few times. It wasn’t  like I was the stealthiest or most subtle of children. Each time he saw me he’d wave and send me a bright smile. That smile would always make my day better. Well I guess, he got worried about me, so he actually tried to cheer me up. He didn’t press for any information about what I was doing, just tried to make me feel better. It was really something else. Honestly I thought he’d be annoyed, here was this dumb kid being a weird hovering nuisance in his life. Yet he just tried to make sure I was okay. It really stuck with me. And made it all the harder for me to push away those silly childish dreams of a bigger family. 

It was a week or two later, the next time I went back to the house. His mom answered the door. She looked so distant; didn't even question why some random kid was on her doorstep. Didn't even wait for me to speak, just showed me to her phone, mumbled something about being quick, and disappeared further into the house. 

It was as I shuffled inside that I spotted his jacket, this jacket, just sort of lying there. Every time I'd seen him before he’d have this jacket with him, so I was confused to find it like it had been forgotten on the floor. 

Then his dad got home and almost immediately the yelling started. I have never felt so small and unseen in my entire life. There I was watching this man I’d deluded myself into believing could be my father yell and scream at this woman. So much shattered inside me. I wanted to leave so badly, but I didn’t dare move, didn’t want to risk getting their attention. That was the first, maybe the only, time I have witnessed a fight like that. 

Then my brain finally registered what they were screaming about and somehow it got so much worse. It was him. They were arguing about Reggie. About whose fault it was, among so many awful things I wish I could just forget. That’s actually how I learned that Reggie had died. That bright sunshine hope for a brother was gone and they were using it as an excuse to attack each other.

God I don’t know why I am unloading all this on a stranger. I haven’t even told my mom about it. 

I don’t remember leaving. Hell, I don't remember when I’d started running. I didn’t even realize I’d taken his jacket with me until I got home. But there was no way I was going back to that house. So in all my infinite 8 year old wisdom I decided that since his parents didn’t want  him, I was going to keep him. He was my brother and no one was going to take him away from me. 

A silly thing to decide after sharing a handful of greetings and one conversation. But I like to believe he showed me a lot about compassion and kindness in those brief moments, especially given the context. It’s an example I try to live up to and a decision I stand by to this day. No regrets.

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Of course this asks for a crackfic. On the man’s birthday even! The (dis)respect. 

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character: Theodorus van Gogh

Prompt: [Transcription of screenshot: Jules Takeda-Drãculea I: so something funny just happened. theo’s birthday is tomorrow right. and my fav streamer couple? their cat is named theo actually. and his birthday is tomorrow.]

Word count: 1000+

Theo was a reserved man, a man that kept to himself and to his own business and even more so to his secrets. A man who had decided from the beginning to respect your boundaries and not trespass further than you would allow him, not because he asked, but because you gave him the space. Theo was the type of man that wouldn’t take another step if you took one back, not wanting that dance to discomfort you, not wanting to reach out either to have you flinch away.

But when he heard your giggling voice and coo ‘Theo’ in an all too affectionate tone the man couldn’t help but still; his ears on sharp as he listened. It was all too obvious that this ‘Theo’ whom you were calling so fondly was not him, for he stood here, around the corner, out of your view and for all you knew, not around.

“You are such a cutie, who is the cutest little birthday boy? Oooh, jij kleine woezelwazzie, oelepetoet, snoezepoes!”

The string of endearments and gross tautology struck Theo all the more as he couldn’t recall you ever speaking to him with such tenderness. The man supposed that you had picked up these terms from him. For he had used all of these terms on King at some point in your presence. Or on occasion even on you when you were being particularly cute, for he loved the way it made you squirm under him. He never imagined you picking up on it, however and neither had he ever thought of the way it made him feel. For where Theo could live without ‘snoezepoes’ somewhere he did like the thought of you whispering corny Dutch pet names at him.

Just like you did with this ‘Theo’. Who, not to mention, seemed to share a birthday with him, which was even worse.

Was he about to be replaced?

The anxiety suddenly struck him and somewhere Theo’s imagination took him on a wild path down the theatrics of this still faceless ‘Theo’ usurping his place in the mansion, from his position next to his brother Vincent to his honour as your lover.

“No,” he whispered to himself and the anguish was quite clear in his low voice before he steeled himself, throwing the door open as he marched into the parlour in which you sat, back turned towards him and the fake shielded away.

“Who-” Freezing Theo hovered over you, standing tall and shoulders broad, ready for the confrontation of asserting his position and his dominance as your lover. He wasn’t about to back down without a fight, or so he believed, but when your eyes met his, and his met a pair of unknown eyes on your lap, he froze.

“That is…” the man manages to get out, his hands instantly grabbing hold of the couch on which you sat, the skin on his knuckles turning white at the way he squeezed the fancy golden border and leather cushion Comte fancied so much. 

For all of the bravado the man had shown earlier had dissipated at the mere fluffy sight of a cat on your lap.

“That is…” he repeated as you turned to the tomcat you had been playing with.

“Theo, the cat,” your answer was simple, turning back to the man with a grin, “coincidental, not? Shakespeare brought him over, claiming that it was his birthday, isn’t that delightful?”

The name of that blasted playwright didn’t even register with the man, his mind running in overdrive as he stared down at that much despised creature while convincing himself not to run away. Of course there was a cat named Theo. Of course it would share his birthday coincidentally. Of course the cat would find your lap the day Theo wanted to demand you for himself. If it wasn’t Arthur it would be someone else, and if not them then it surely was meant to be Arthur all along. 

Swallowing thickly Theo slowly exhales as he tries to compose himself, glad that you seemingly haven’t noticed his distress even if his heart feels like it might give out at any moment.

“Theo?” you call, and his eyes shift over you at the same time as the cat meows, leaping off your lap onto the back of the chair, right next to where his hand is resting.

“Blasted!”

If Theo were to be described in modern memes he would be the cat jumping away at the sight of a cucumber. Except, the cat would be Theo and the cucumber would ironically be the cat that eyed Theo as if it was the personification of innocence itself, unaware of the wrong and distress its little existence brought.

Instinctively you had jumped as well, quick to seize up the cat who was as startled as you cradled the evil’s incarnate in your arms. “Theo!” you scold him, but the man only eyed you in betrayal, filled in disbelief that you had actually chosen to defend a cat over him. On his birthday nonetheless!

But he swallowed down his words, gritting his teeth as he kept his distance from the cat and you. Betrayal or not, it wasn’t your fault for not knowing, nor that this cat was brought in.

“Keep that away from me,” the man said instead, his body still rigid as he feels that his shoulders are tense. The cat in your arm starts to hiss in response, as if it understood, but he doesn’t care. Theo wants it gone.

It is only then that you seem to reach an understanding, your eyes shifting between the animal you had lavished in affection earlier and the man whom you wanted to indulge. Carefully you move to the door, opening it slightly as you set the cat down outside and shut it once more, barring its return. A pitiful meow followed, but you ignore it as you stride over to the Dutchman, still all nerves and jitters from the sight of his mortal enemy and ironic sharer of name and birthday.

“There, there,” you cooed at him, a hand petting down his bangs as you fingers run through his hair, “look at you, won’t you sit and calm down with some pancakes, snoezepoes?”

The sentiment you exude, along with the tenderness in your voice nearly drowns away the sin of the endearment used. Nearly for Theo does sit down and he does lean into your warmth as he calms down with a deep breath buried in your shoulder. But almost is never there and the man manages to send you a glare all the same, warning you not to push it.

[bqstqnbruin]

three times he said he loved you + one time you actually heard it

I have not written for him since Thanksgiving so this was nice, I must admit. But I did this as part of the Summer Fic Exchange put together by @hockeynetwork​ ! I really did love this and I high key hope you do something like this again.

So this is for @broadstbroskis​ I hope you like this!

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

One

“I don’t really understand why we’re having the entire damn town over at our house when half of it still needs to be packed up and the other half is boxes,” you say, trying to maneuver through the mess of your room, making way to your bed while Nolan follows the same path as you.

You flop down on your bed, trying to tune out the noise of your parent’s friends saying goodbye to them when they only let you have one friend over, and that was only because Nolan’s parents were also friends with your parents. “Probably because parents need an excuse to get drunk and it’s more socially acceptable when it’s with a group of people instead of by themselves,” he says, lying down next to you.

The two of you lay there in silence. Neither of you had really accepted the fact that you were moving away because of your dad’s job, and neither of you wanted to accept it, either. But now, you were leaving in about a week, some of your stuff already shipped to the new house that your dad bought, your transcripts sent to Harriton High School in Lower Merion, Pennsylvania, and your life starting over at age fifteen. 

“What do you think it’s like there?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“My dad must have gotten a really nice job because the new house is, like, twice the size of this one.” 

“Really?” he asks, sitting up. “I want to see it. Get your computer.”

“Ok, bossy, give me a second.” You find your laptop, pulling up Google maps and typing in the address. “It’s this one.”

His eyes go wide, jaw dropped. “You’re joking! This is huge! Can I move with you?”

You laugh, desperately wishing that you could tell him yes. “I think you need to stay here. Something tells me if you come with us, your chances of making the NHL wouldn’t be very high.” You take in a deep breath, Nolan exploring the area around your new house while he mutters about how he can’t believe that you’re leaving to begin with. “Wouldn’t it be great if you got drafted by Philadelphia or somewhere close so I could see you?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll get drafted.”

“You will. I know you will. In 2017, I will be sitting there, glued to my TV, watching you get drafted. You’ll probably go top ten, maybe top five if you get really good really fast,” you say, putting your computer away. You dodge boxes, praying that you don’t trip on anything. You have no idea where anything was at this point, despite labeling everything. “God, I need this stuff out of here.” 

You sit back down next to Nolan, your knees touching. Your parents had a rule that you weren’t allowed to date until you were sixteen. Nolan knew that, you knew that, everyone in your school knew that. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if your parents didn’t have that rule, would the two of you already be together? Not that it mattered now with you moving to Pennsylvania and all, but hypotheticals are always fun to think of, aren’t they?

Nolan actually had it all planned. The night of your sixteenth birthday, right at midnight, he would call you on your cell and ask you out. He would take you out to a movie, dinner, and then walk around the city, assuming your parents would let you do all of that. Now that you were moving, his chance was gone. 

“You really think that I’ll go top five in the draft?” 

“Maybe. I think you can be a top five prospect if you work towards it enough.” 

He looks like he’s about to say something to you, his eyes going between your own and looking down at his hands. He can’t stay still, his cheeks getting the classic rosy pink shade that you would tease him for constantly, knowing that you were the only one who he let do it. He finally takes a breath to say something, only to be interrupted by a knock on your door.

Your mom opens the door before you can answer, you trying to move away from Nolan a little so she wouldn’t get suspicious. She was the one who made the no dating rule, even if she loved Nolan like he was her own son. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says, obviously lying, “Your father just finished everything on the grill, you kids should come down to eat.” 

Nolan gets up from your bed, pretty much running out. Your mom stops you, gently pushing you back into your room and closing the door behind you. She gives you that look asking for an explanation. 

“What?” you ask her, trying to pretend like you don’t know what she’s about to ask you. 

“What were you doing up here?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Do you want a play-by-play or a summary?” you ask her. Every time she saw you with Nolan, her first instinct is that you were breaking her rule about dating and were actually seeing Nolan behind her back. You couldn’t help but get a little irritated when she asked you the same question each time: what was going on?

“Give me the Sparknotes.” 

“Showed him the new house, complained about moving, did the same thing I did when Sammie was over, too,” you told her, referencing one of your other friends. She cocks her eyebrow, the signal that she doesn’t believe you. “Go ask Nolan!” 

 “I know you’re upset that you’re leaving him but there are other-” she starts, trying to reach out to touch your shoulder.

“Please, do not finish that sentence. Mom, come on. Nolan is my best friend, of course, I’m going to be upset about leaving him. You’re moving me to Pennsylvania where I have three years to start over and make new friends only to leave them to go to college. Can we please go down for food, though?” you ask her, trying to get past her, “I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

She looks at you, trying to figure out if she believes you. “Go ahead,” she says, gesturing to your door. You move past her, Nolan still waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“There were too many adults for me to fend this alone,” he says when you reach him. 

“Where are your sisters?” you ask him, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. 

“Outside?” he guesses, handing you a plate as you both start to pile on the food. Around you are your parent’s friends, talking, laughing, enjoying the time as if you weren’t about to leave them forever. Nolan can see the sudden shift in your mood; whenever you start thinking about moving, you always get upset, “Hey, let’s go look out back,” he suggests, leading you through your house to the back porch. 

Outside was quiet, the sun just starting to set and making the sky brilliant colors of pink, orange, blue; everything that you loved about living away from a city that you wouldn’t get living twenty minutes from Philadelphia. “I can’t believe we’re leaving this,” you say, sitting down in the grass. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Nolan mutters. 

“What?” you ask him, snapping your attention away from the sky and to him. He’s looking down at his food, pushing it around his plate. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking up. “I said I can’t believe you’re leaving, either.” He didn’t want you to leave at all. Slowly, everyone started to come outside to enjoy the sunset, all the adults screaming and being unnecessarily loud. ‘Just say it,’ he thinks to himself. He was going to regret it if he didn’t. “I love you,” he blurts out, just loud enough for you to hear it over the commotion. And he meant it. He really did love you, as more than a friend, he thinks he always has.

You look at him and smile. “Yeah, I love you, too,” you say, thinking he meant it as just a friend. Part of you was happy the two of you weren’t dating. Having to break up would be a lot harder and leave him would be a lot harder than it was now. 

Two

You were ecstatic to be back home, even if it was for the wedding of someone you weren’t really close to. It had been almost three years since you were last in Winnipeg, and when the opportunity came up for you to visit, you had to jump on it, having to beg your parents to let you go back home without them. You hadn’t seen Nolan since you moved, other than through Facetime. He was getting ready for the draft that was weeks away, obviously stressed, and according to him, only going to the wedding because you said you were about to go with him. You were staying at his house, sharing the room with him, much to your surprise that his parents even let you. 

“Why did I agree to go to this with you?” Nolan whines as you struggle to zip up your dress.

“Because you missed me and this was the only way you would be able to spend time with me,” you tell him, turning your back to him. “Come zip me up?”

He gets up off his bed, one of his hands finding the small of your back to hold on to the base of the zipper, pulling it up slowly as he held his breath. You were nearly 18, now old enough that the dating rule your parents had set was done. If you hadn’t lived in Philadelphia now, he was sure that you two would be celebrating your two year anniversary soon. Taking you as a date for this wedding was probably the only time you would ever be each other’s dates unless by some miracle he ended up in Philly, or you ended up in whatever city drafted him. 

You’re also holding your breath, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you think it will make zipping up the dress easier for Nolan, or for some other reason. You hear him mutter that the zipper is up, turning around to face him. He was already dressed in his suit, his hair styled in just the right way so not a strand was out of place. He looked amazing. “You look,” you start, trying to find the right word, “Great.”

Looking at you, he couldn’t find a flaw in your appearance. He knew the flaws that made you who you were, but he didn’t mind them. He had always liked them. “Uh, so do you,” he stammers out. You could feel your heart beat faster, and he could feel his own doing the same. You both swore the other could hear the beat as you got nervous just being around each other. You looked so good with the clothes you had on, but you couldn’t help but think about how you would look with them off. 

“We should get going,” you finally let out after what felt like the longest moment of silence between the two of you. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.” The two of you leave his room, calling to his parents on your way to let them know not to wait up for you. Something really was about to happen just then, wasn’t it? No. You were overthinking it. Everyone loves a well-dressed person: you were just getting swept away by the suit, the same thing would have happened if you saw anyone else in a suit. 

Nolan was driving to the venue, not saying anything. He was freaking out about how he could have just kissed you at that moment, but he blew it. He should have just kissed you. What if he did tonight? Would it be better to kiss you and have you leave, or to not kiss you at all for you to still leave? Either way, you were going to leave him again. Part of him thought that he would see you again. Somehow, you would both end up in Philadelphia, he just wasn’t sure how. 

The wedding goes by without you even paying much attention. You seemed to just follow whatever everyone else was doing, standing when they were standing, trying to talk if everyone else was talking. You were focused on Nolan the entire time. He looked so good in the suit, and you could not get over it. You get to the reception, seeing a lot of people you grew up with somehow having grown up a lot more than you expected. 

“Y/N!” You hear someone squeal. You turn around to see Sammie, running towards you and Nolan. Nolan tries to dodge her; she had always liked him, but he was never interested in her as more than friends. He slips away to get food just in time. “I’ve missed you so much!” she says, pulling you in for a tight hug. “You’re here with Nolan?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess he’s my date for tonight?”

She pulls you over to an empty table, plopping you down at the seat next to her. “You know, I’m pretty surprised you two never got together,” she blurts out.

You look at her, confused. Nolan has always been your best friend, and that’s all. No matter what you felt about him, you couldn’t risk something like that. “No way,” is all you can manage to get out.

“Oh, yeah. So many girls at school have been trying to get with him, but no one’s succeeded. During the wedding, I saw the way he looked at you. If heart eyes were an actual thing, that boy would have them for you.” 

“Again, no way. He’s my best friend, that’s all.”

“Best friends fall for each other all the time,” she sings, shrugging. 

“Hey, do you want to dance?” Nolan asks, startling you.

“Yes, please!” you say, thankful that he saved you from more interrogation. “Thank you,” you say as he leads you to the dance floor. 

“You needed saving,” he says, taking your hands and starting to sway with the rhythm of the music. 

“My hero!” you swoon, making him laugh. The two of you move in perfect sync like the song was made for you. The room around you melted away and it became just you and Nolan. It felt like a scene from the movie, where everything goes dark and the spotlight is just on you two. You weren’t saying anything, your head on his chest as he pulled you in once the song changed to a slow song. You could feel his heartbeat, noticing it getting faster even though everything else around you remained steady. 

The DJ came over the speakers to announce the arrival of the new husband and wife. You and Nolan move off the dance floor, Nolan standing behind you, his hand finding it’s place at the small of your back again. They start their first dance as a married couple, and you suddenly can picture yourself doing the same. You’re in a dress that fits you perfectly, flawless makeup, not a hair out of place, dancing with the love of your life. You see yourself with, you aren’t sure who. You feel like you’re standing off to the side watching yourself dance with Nolan. 

You wanted it to be Nolan. You weren’t sure if it was being at the wedding, or if it was a feeling you had been repressing this entire time. You look up at him and smile, him beaming down at you. You put your arm around him to pull him in for a hug. You couldn’t tell him how you felt, though. Not with you leaving so soon to go back to Lower Merion. 

Neither of you could tell that you were thinking the same thing. Nolan wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and resting his chin on your head. You reached up to meet his hands, holding them there as you settled into his embrace. If he could tell you right now that he loved you, he would. But he couldn’t help but wonder what he would do if you didn’t love him back. 

Three

The day Nolan got drafted felt surreal. You couldn’t believe that he was going to be coming to Philadelphia, the same city you moved to, the city you were going to stay in for college. The day he actually arrived in Philly didn’t feel real either. You had helped him move in, and honestly, you spent more time in his place than you did at your own.

Neither of you had admitted that you had feelings for the other. There was no way you could. You were practically living together, you being Nolan’s first friend outside of his team when he first moved to the city. You couldn’t ruin what you had, so you just pretended like those feelings didn’t exist.

“Where are we going tonight?” Nolan asks you as you take over his bathroom to get ready for the night. 

“Somewhere called Brew Pub in Manayunk.”  

“Why are we going, again?” he moans. He leans back on his bed, having a direct view of you getting ready. You were doing your mascara, not that he had any idea what else you still had to do. He never really knew why you wore makeup, he didn’t think you needed it at all. 

“Juliette said it was a good place to meet Saint Joe’s and Nova boys. You know, all the right private schoolboys from Nova and then their less rich counterparts from Saint Joe’s,” you say, messing up your makeup.

“What could that possibly mean?” 

“Could not tell you. Apparently she just likes Saint Joe’s boys.” You try to fix your eyeliner, not succeeding. “Shit!” you say out of frustration, “Why do I look like this?” 

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Full of questions tonight, aren’t we? And, I don’t know, I just feel,” you hesitate, trying to find the right word, “Ugh.”

He gets up from his bed, wandering into the bathroom to stand behind you. “How could you feel ugh?” 

“I don’t know. I’m in a mood. I don’t like how I look,” you admit, shrugging it off. “Whatever, I just need to finish this eyeliner and we can get going. Is Travis meeting us here or there?” 

Nolan stays standing behind you, not listening to the questions you’re asking as you keep talking. God, how could you not understand how beautiful you are? Every time he pictured his perfect girl, he thought of you. He really did love everything about you, right down to your annoying pen tapping when you’re thinking about something. How could you not see yourself the way he saw you?

“Nol?” you ask him, snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen into.

“Sorry, what?”

“You never answered if Travis was meeting us here or at Brew Pub?”

“Oh, sorry, I kinda spaced. He’s meeting us there.” 

You turn around to look at him, your makeup done, but it was him with the blush on his cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lies. Why has he waited so long to tell you anything about how he feels? “I was just thinking about some drill from practice. I was having issues with it.” 

“Eh, don’t worry about it right now. There’s nothing in hockey that you haven’t been able to get eventually. Tonight, let’s just go out, drink a little, flirt with some people, and then come home.” 

Flirt with some people. Yeah, like he actually wanted to flirt with anyone besides you. Not that he actually did flirt with you; something about you he felt like he couldn’t, like it would cross a line or something. You guys leave for the bar, not saying anything while Nolan stays on his phone telling Travis to get there as soon as he can. He’s not sure he can really handle seeing you flirting with someone else. He wasn’t even sure if he had before. But if he was about to see that, then he needed some sort of bonehead energy to keep his mind off of it.

‘I’m waiting outside already. There’s a pizza place across the street, can we go?’ Travis sends back.

‘No.’

‘Once we’re drunk?’

‘No.’

‘Smile Pat?’

‘No.’

The entire ride, you were sitting there, trying to figure out why he went radio silent since you left. The only thing you could do was let him talk when he wanted to. You knew better than anyone that if you tried to force him to talk when he didn’t want to, he would shut down completely. You get to the bar, trying to find Juliette in the small, crowded bar, losing Nolan and Travis completely. 

“Ok, so I’ve seen a few slightly attractive guys but I’m not drunk enough yet for me to find them very attractive, but I figure if we sit down and flirt with them enough, we can get a few drinks from them,” Juliette starts rambling, dragging you directly to the bar to have you start flirting.

Nolan and Travis had found their seats at the other end. Nolan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you talked to the guy seated next to you. 

“Why aren’t you there next to her?” Travis asks him. 

“What do you mean?” Nolan asks, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

“She’s there, flirting with a guy, probably intending on at least getting a drink or two from him, and you’re here watching him talk to your girl.”

Nolan looks at Travis, the look on his face telling him to cut it out. “She’s not my girl.” He looks back at you, watching you flip your hair over your shoulder, laughing and reaching out to touch the guys arm. His heart started racing at the sight of something so simple. He takes in a deep breath, “I’m in love with her. Have been since I could understand what love is,” he admits.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Same thing I’ve been doing. Not telling her.” 

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to mess up what I have with her.”

“That’s dumb.”

“If you drop this, I will pay for that pizza across the street, I will buy the whole place if it means we can drop this.” 

“Fine,” Travis says, throwing his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.” 

+one

You groan as your alarm starts to go off, rolling over to try to find your phone and shut it off. You didn’t even remember turning an alarm on for today, so why was it even going off in the first place? Finally finding it after haphazardly feeling around your nightstand for it, you groan even louder when you see that it wasn’t your alarm, but Nolan calling you, instead.

“You really changed my ringtone so it would be the same as my alarm, you jackass?” you answer, mentally cursing yourself for even letting him know your passcode in the first place. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he says. You can hear cars passing him by, indicating that he was somewhere on the street in the city. “I’m going to be over in twenty minutes and we’re leaving when you’re ready.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask him, pulling your phone away from your ear to check the time. “You woke me up before the sun rose on a Saturday for what reason?”

“See you soon!” he says, his tone sounding weird with his deep voice. He hangs up before you can protest. You put your phone back on your nightstand, rolling back over to fall back to sleep. The door to your apartment was locked; Nolan wouldn’t be able to get in without a key, and there was no way either of your roommates were up to be able to let him in. “Get out of bed!” you hear someone yell, jumping on your bed. You must have fallen back to sleep, only for Nolan to wake you up, somehow breaking into your home.

“I’m calling the police,” you say, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Yeah, like that will do anything. But I told you to get up!” he says, taking the pillow off your head and ripping the covers off from on top of you. “We’re going out today, come on.”

“How the fuck did you get into my apartment?” you ask sitting up, eyes barely open. 

“Alex lent me her key,” he says, pulling you out of bed. “Now get ready.”

“I can’t go out with you if I’m about to kill someone,” you say, rifling through your drawers anyway. “Where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise.” 

“Then I can’t get dressed and we’re not going.” 

“Yes, we are.”

“Then what do I wear?” 

“Wear something nicer, but bring a sweatshirt because I know you’re going to be cold at first.” You shoot a glare in his direction, picking out patterned shorts and a plain tshirt, pulling out one of his sweatshirts that you stole from him. “I’ve been looking for that!” 

“Get out,” you say, pushing him out the door so you can get dressed, “Make me coffee.” you shut your door, locking it so he can’t come back in while you’re getting ready. What did this boy have planned? 

While you get ready, cursing him both mentally and loud enough that he could hear you, Nolan fumbles around your kitchen trying to make you enough coffee to hold you until you got breakfast. He had the whole day planned for you, something spontaneous enough that you would have no idea what was coming. Travis had helped him figure it out, starting with watching the sunrise on Boathouse row, heading to the Art Museum and walking around, and then going to Sabrina’s for food. He had your favorite snacks in his car so you wouldn’t complain, a map of the museum marked with things that he thought you would like, and a reservation at the cafe so you wouldn’t have to wait at what would be a very busy restaurant for hungover Drexel and UPenn students. 

“That coffee smells so good,” he hears you say, causing him to jump. For someone who had just been woken up against their will, you looked stunning. He was so excited for this; you had told him that you had never been awake to see the sunrise, and he knew that the day he finally told you he loved you had to include that. “Can you please tell me where we’re going?” you ask a still speechless Nolan. 

“You’ll see,” he says, handing you your coffee and walking out your door. All of him was nervous. How does he tell his best friend that he’s in love with her? And what if you don’t feel the same way? 

“The sun hasn’t even come up yet, what could we possibly be doing?” you whine again, sipping the coffee. “It better involve food or I’m going to be very upset with you.”

“You’re already upset with me so what else do I have to lose?” he asks, trying to control the shaking in his voice. “And stop asking, you’ll find out when we get there!” he insists, hoping that you’ll stop for the time being. You end up dozing off again, Nolan stealing glances when he can as he drives to park at Fairmount Park. “Hey, Y/N. Wake up.”

“What?” you mumble, stretching as he wakes you up again. “Where are we?” you open your eyes, looking down the street towards where his car is facing. “Kelly Drive? Why are we at Boathouse Row?” 

“Come on!” he says, already pulling you out of the and running down the street. You keep going until you’re past the boathouses, far enough away that the sounds of college rowers are in the distance as he sets out the blanket you didn’t know he had. 

“You’re unusually happy to be up this early, what’s going on?” you ask him, sitting down next to him. What could he possibly have planned. 

“Will, you just shut up and look?” he asks, pointing you in the direction of the sun. 

“Oh, wow,” you let out, looking as the sun rose over the trees, lighting up the Schuylkill sitting in front of you. “You took me to see the sunrise?” you ask him, not looking away as the sky turns from the deep purple to a brilliant orange. 

He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, turning them more pink than normal. He watches you as the sun makes your face glow. Everything about you was perfect, from your hair that you had thrown up into a messy bun so that you could get ready faster, to his sweatshirt that you were wearing because you loved that it smelled like him. He couldn’t help himself, “I love you,” he blurts out, his eyes wide in disbelief that he actually said it. 

Your head snaps to him, finally breaking away from the sun. There’s no way he just said what you thought he did. “What?”

“I love you. And I have been trying to tell you since before you moved here. I always have loved you, and part of me thinks that I always will.” 

“Nolan,” you start, thinking he was done.

“And you don’t have to say that you love me, or anything really, because I’m just kind of springing this on you, and-” he continues to ramble, acting completely out of character from his usual quick and snarky behavior. 

“Nolan,” you try again, hoping that he’ll stop.

“This wasn’t even the way I wanted to tell you, even though this is what I think might be the third time that I’ve actually told you,”

“Nolan!” you yell, finally getting him to snap out of his rant and look you in the eye. “You love me? Like actually love me.”

“I thought I said that,” he says, starting to panic. Did he just go into a rant for no reason? 

“I mean, like,” you start, trying to figure out what to say, “You love me, too?”

“Too?” 

Without thinking, the sun finally peaking over the two of you as Kelly Drive starts to get more busy with runners, rowers, bikers, and families, you take his face in your hands and kiss him. Your lips move together in sync as his hands find your back, pulling you in closer to him. When you finally pull away, not bothered by the fact that multiple people probably just saw you, you look at him, the blue eyes, rosy cheeks, his hair in a state of disarray. “Too.” 

[saphirered]

Hi there! You writings are wonderful. Please could you do an EssekXreader where the reader is from another high ranking den and is betrothed to Essek for political reasons. Both Essek and Reader aren't keen on the idea but eventually after spending time together realise they actually have feelings for each other, I'm thinking a bit like The Swan Princess. Please and thank you.

This is gonna be a two parter as the current draft already exceeds my usual word count limit 🙈 so stay tuned for part two in the next few days! Hope you enjoy 😘

Denial. It must be a cruel joke. Your family, your den they would never use you as a pawn in a bigger plot. This was all just a cruel joke or a move to assure their political advancement without the need to go through with this.

Anger. No. This is real. How dare they? How could they? They would use you like that? Without having the decency to let you know before the deal was made no less! Were it anyone else you’d crush them beneath your boot like the vermin they are for condemning you to a fate not of your own choosing. Perhaps you still might…

Bargain. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could just play your part and go your separate ways. A betrothal doesn’t have to end in a marriage. Even if it does, all that counts is appearances. Beyond that you could still have your own life right? You’d always be able to make the ‘me’ decision and wouldn’t have to take in account the ‘we’. Yes that should be right.

Depression. Your life is ruined! You’ll forever be tied to someone else without your consent. Your decisions will reflect on the many now. You’ll have to watch your every move and every choice or it may reflect terribly on your legacy. There’ll be expectations and can you ever live up to them while still being content with your own life or will you be sacrificing your happiness for something so stupid?

Acceptance. Acceptance…. Hell no!

Time for the first official meeting with Essek Thelyss in the context of your arrangement. You’d met many times before given both of your stations and reputations but now, you couldn’t help but feel a coldness towards the man regardless of what cordial or friendly dynamic you might have had in your limited social interactions.

Your respective families meet. You on your side, Essek on his. Both of you portray the facial expressions excepted of you; indifferent content. Nothing over excited nor anything remotely negative either but you’ve been raised a reader of the people and you could see through the cracks in Essek’s appearance. He’s just as happy with this arrangement as you are; not at all.

“It is a pleasure to meet you here today.” Essek speaks. The rules of engagement have not forgone any of you despite your discontent with this whole situation but for the sake of your watching families you’d play your parts. You’d put on a damn good show.

“You as well Shadowhand. Light be blessed we get to spend it in such magnificent company.” You can feel the approving look burn into the back of your head from your Denmother. They’d be none the wiser.

And so the negotiations began. All be damned if you did not at the very least were able to set some of your own terms in this arrangement. Fundings to sustain your lifestyle or a dowry were the least of your worries. You were more concerned with a place you could call your own, time to spend for yourself, security and stability and the ability to continue your life as is regardless of possible marriage. You would never give up your seat at the Bright Queen’s council and you’re very sure Essek wouldn’t give up his either.

Essek had to admit you played the game well. You’re a killer negotiator. Your persuasive side had shone at the Bastion more than once but those circumstances are wholly different than these. Your ability to make it sound like these ideas came from your den and not yourself, and have them think these suggestions were their ideas in the first place is simply remarkable. Remarkable and dangerous. Respect. But no matter how good of a talker you are, or he is for that matter, neither of you could get out of this.

Afternoon tea, a few lunches and dinners here and there and even a few events you were forced to attend with Essek as your escort under the careful watch of your dens. Whenever you were sure they were out of earshot you did not make it unknown neither of you wanted to be here and would prefer to be as far away from each other as possible.

Then there were the times you swore you might actually be able to like the Shadowhand. Councils held lead to many arguments, the Bright Queen watching the court fight among themselves for a next course of action, fundings to be divided and efforts to be pursued. You always kept a level head not allowing yourself to get worked up, or at least appear you weren’t but sometimes you could strangle the life out of some of these fools.

To your surprise in some of these occasions Essek would take your side and support your arguments, concerns and points brought up in debates. So he does know what’s good for him after all? Those moments were quickly ruined by the next point on the schedule where you’d be at opposing sides again. Usually you’d be able to work up an opponent in debate until their credibility would be questioned but Essek had caught onto your games and was no fool. If you could keep your cool, so could he. You had learned how to push his buttons as he had yours.

After a particularly heated debate the Bright Queen dismissed the dens, done with the bickering and infighting for the day. You couldn’t blame her even though there were still many things unspoken. You and Essek were at odds once more and you couldn’t be happier to be done for the day and head somewhere you wouldn’t be forced to interact with the asshole.

Conferring with your allies, trying to gain support of others, you grabbed your things ready to leave the Bastion. There he floated in the anti-chamber eyes cold focussed on you, waiting. You pretend you don’t notice and keep walking for the exit. Essek calls your name as you’re about to pass him. You don’t respond and keep going. He calls again. No response. He grabs your arm stopping you in your tracks. How you’d hoped to escape this confrontation.

“A moment of your time please.” The words leave his lips with an artificial, well-practiced warmth. Oh you’re fighting so hard to contain yourself but you too had a facade to keep up.

“Another time perhaps. I’ve grown quite exhausted after the day’s events. If you will excuse me.” You smile innocently placing your hand over his secured around your wrist. You pry your fingers beneath forcing him to release his grasp on you.

“Then allow me to escort you back home. Should you be able to muster up the strength to converse on our path I’d love nothing more than to just hear your voice.” Essek encases your hands between his. Eyes of the dens fall upon the two of you in the middle of the anti-chamber. Essek is known to be a reserved individual and these advances definitely stand out.

Oh so that’s the game we’re playing. Asshole move, Shadowhand. Two can play this game. If it’s the company you’re currently in he’s using against you you can do the same. You take a step closer to him standing on your tiptoes and lean in to press your lips to his cheek. You linger just a little and whisper into his ear.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You allow the distaste to bleed through your barely audible words before you pull away and take a step back. You couldn’t refuse his ‘generous offer’. It might make you look bad so you smile bright and nod even managing to call on a fake blush like some lovesick fool. From the corners of your eyes you notice the court members whisper among each other. Good. Let them talk. You link your arm through Essek’s still carrying your things.

“I believe I might have forgotten my transcripts of the day. Would you mind joining me in retrieving them?” So whatever the wizard needed to discuss with you he couldn’t say in public… Oh Essek what a mistake you made… That certainly offers you some opportunities to use to your advantage.

“Nonsense! I have my transcripts. You’re free to borrow them, or perhaps you’d like to study them with me? It might give us the opportunity to come to a compromise without wasting the Council’s time. After all, there’s much more pressing matters.” His expression might be a thankful one but if looks could kill… you’d be introduced into your next life this very second.

You begin leading Essek out of the building not allowing him any response or comeback for your previous statement. You walk head held high catching onto the praises of others. ‘A great match’? If only they knew…

Your walk continued in seething silence from Essek. Until you reached your home. Opening the door and leaning against the doorframe making sure no one else is in sight, you smirk at him.

“I’m curious. If I refused to part with these,” You hold up the transcripts. “What would you do? Would you go back and receive your own copies or would you go without them?” You leaf through the pages. It’s not like you needed them. You already had all you needed memorised so if anything they’d go into your archives for future reference and case study if necessary. Essek doesn’t dignify you with an answer yet so you continue to press his buttons.

“Would you be able to discredit my every word or counter them without the direct word for word reference? Would your arguments hold any weight against my own? Or would you be forced to depend on the vote or Light’s mercy, the Bright Queen’s verdict because if the latter, you’ve already lost, my dear.” You can’t hold back the smugness in your achievements. The look of defeat brought you satisfaction.

Essek bites his tongue. Even he knows that in theoretics you have the upper hand now. Recalling your words from memory alone wouldn’t be enough. He’d needed to cite them exactly providing the transcript in your possession. He couldn’t go back or it might arise questions, questions he couldn’t afford at this moment. What caught him off guard was you offering him the transcript still. He takes it before you can change your mind, the pages disappearing beneath his cloak.

“Luckily for you I’m not your enemy. Yes we might disagree on matters of state but at the end of the day we’re going to be stuck together and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”

“What are you suggesting?” Essek doesn’t know wether he should be wary, outright suspicious, or glad you’ve come up with a plan amidst the chaos.

“A truce. If we keep these antics going it will lead to a war between the two of us. Are you really prepared to be expected to spend the rest of your life with someone you’ve grown to hate? Because I’m not. I’d rather sleep in my bed withe the comfort of knowing my partner will not stab me in the back or sabotage me at every opportunity he gets.” Partner. He. Not they. He. So not even you had a way out of this betrothal.

“Resentment grows much faster than affection.” Essek deadpans. Yes he sees your reasonings and you make some solid arguments but that doesn’t mean he has to trust your motives. He’s aware you in your position are much more dangerous than any spy, assassin or foreign force.

“Light be with me.” You’re exasperated. You’re offering an olive branch and this is his response? You pull him inside and close the door dropping the act entirely within the confines of your own home knowing no one will be watching you here.

“I am not offering you an epic enemies to lovers tale! I’m offering to make the best out of a situation neither of us actually want to be in! Marriage is just another contract. We do what is expected of us by following it to the letter and nothing more, nothing less. Love or affection is not part of that contract but respect is.” Essek takes in your words and considers them making sure you’re not twisting things in such a way you could later use against him or to your advantage.

“Your logic is sound and your arguments persuasive.” You raise your hand in an exasperated ‘thank you’ as he straightens your back and looks down at you.

“Very well. We have an agreement.” You’re on the verge of letting out a breath of relief at Essek agreeing to your terms and suggestions. You’d rather be sure this man isn’t going to drop you on a different plane in your sleep once you’ll be forced to share a home. You’d rather know you can trust him to have your back despite your grievances. At the end of the day, you both want to survive.

“Match made in Elysium.” Sarcasm is clear in your voice and the both of you cannot help but smile. More like match made in hell with the ‘letter of the law’ approach to navigating your predicament.

—————

Pacing back and forth fingers pressed to your lips in thought of Essek’s sitting room you ponder the terms of your agreement. Essek himself is seated on the couch leaning over a two sheets of paper, a long list of demands from both sides written on each.

“Next up housing.” You announce. Essek fiddles with the pen looking over the lists.

“I’m not willing to part with my towers unless something of equal or greater value is returned. I need space for my practices, experiments and studies.”

“I’ll agree to part with my own home under the terms you will share your personal resources with me and I will have amicable space for my own pursuits be this here or at another place of our mutual choosing.” Essek considers your terms on this matter. They are agreeable but this is a negotiation and neither of you are refraining from pushing for an outcome to suit yourself best.

“We will share my home then but we will both share our resources unless they pertain to exclusively personal matters or those of state when we inevitably find ourselves on opposing sides in the Bastion.” You stop pacing and turn to face Essek. He watches for your responses.

“I get my own tower.” You counter.

“That’s preposterous. I have need for certain rooms and areas for my studies and cannot relocate them.”

“Fine. Then I’ll get all unoccupied or unnecessary rooms.”

“You’ll get your own private bedchambers, study and sitting room just as I’ll have mine. These chambers will be exclusive and privacy to be respected. Other spaces save for my laboratory, for your own safety, are communal.” By the expression on your face Essek knows you’ve caught him in a loophole.

“Agreed. We’re entitled to our private spaces and will share the unspecified ones. Kitchen, dining room, living area… library…” You caught hime there… Essek’s expression turns sour. He’d have preferred to keep that one to himself but the agreement is fair.

“I wish to make an amendment.”

“Name your terms.”

“Some shelves will belong to my private collection. You will refrain from touching these tomes and scrolls without my explicit permission.” You ponder not entirely convinced. There’s nothing in there for you and Essek knows it. You raise an eyebrow for him to continue and concede on a previously negotiated term for this amendment to go through.

“And in return, you get to redecorate our communal spaces how you see fit, within the realms of reason.” Essek empathises the latter part of his statement.

“Agreeable.” You nod. “Next up; social engagements.”

The two of you go back and forth agreeing, adjusting, and conceding to come to an equal understanding and finalise your arrangement. Over all, it went surprisingly well. It certainly was a nice change of scene to have somewhat friendly negotiations without the added pressure of the dens and the Bright Queen herself watching you.

Essek makes for a good conversationalist and you might even dare say you enjoyed your afternoon setting the terms and conditions. Maybe you could be friends after all. That would be nice.

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

Elena starter for @storieswrittcn​ (this may or may not have gotten away from me, Remember you said you like novella. I also took part of the ramble part one but altered it also)

We are outsiders Living inside a broken world We are outsiders And I know sometimes it can hurt But it gets better yeah we'll make it through We'll stay golden when we're black and blue We are outsiders But we're not hiding anymore This is who we really are

It had been fifteen years since she’d seen either of her brothers face to face. Fifteen years since Lee had spoken to the eldest. Fifteen years since she had thought of Mystic Falls, thought of all the ghosts that lurked within the town's shadows. Lee Salvatore had made it a habit to push anything regarding her brothers, that town, or their past to the deepest recesses of her mind. She had built life after life without them, embracing the warped gift of eternity. She hadn’t truly looked back after she’d transitioned. Finally able to become who she really was without the suffocating opinions of the church, her community, or her family.

It wasn’t an easy journey. Slow in it’s progression. Lee’s aunt had always told her she was a soul gifted before it’s proper time; her sexuality, the way she was born, her passion and skill when it came to art, her desire to see the world. None of it fit in the 1800’s. But as times changed pieces of Lee started to belong. Each change brought new opportunities, allowing Lee to start to put herself together. 

She was still an outsider, still judged--but what else would you expect living in a broken world? What didn’t fit into the neat little boxes of people’s minds, what didn’t fit the societal norm, was still given so much hate. The only difference was now there were those who fought for equality, unafraid to use their voices to promote change. Those people gave Lee hope, gave her strength. Finding those people throughout the last 145 years had shaped her.

Lee Salvatore was still an outsider, but she was also so much more. She was an artist, one with more alias’ than she could count on both hands. She was a college graduate, several degrees tucked away in a safe. She was a traveler, passports filled with stamps and a mind filled with memories she had never imagined to have. But most of all, Lee was finally able to look in the mirror and accept the person she saw; the youngest Salvatore was who she truly was. She held no more self hate. No more whispers of ghosts past haunted her. She was an outsider, but she wasn’t hiding who she really was anymore.

While Lee had taken the road of self discovery, her brothers’ hadn’t. They’d been living in a siblings quarrel, at least Damon was. Stefan suffered at every turn at their brothers hand whenever they fell into each other's orbit or Damon specifically sought him out. Lee was drugged into it whenever Damon crossed too many lines, risking their exposure to the world. 

Stefan had called her no more than seven hours ago asking for her help. There was a trail of bodies leading straight to town, ‘animal attacks’ that couldn’t be explained were catching the eye of news outlets. She hadn’t even known Stefan was back in Mystic Falls. When Lee asked him why he couldn’t just leave, he explained there was something holding him in Mystic Falls that didn’t allow him to--something that could finally give him a sense of belonging--and refused to believe the attacks were Damon. All he wanted was for Lee to be there with him, help keep the spotlight off their kind. The vampire might loathe her brothers, wanting nothing more for them to be miserable, but she wasn’t going to allow Damon to out them. 

Which is why Lee was driving down the main strip on her motorcycle. The town was busy; teens scattered across the storefronts trying to enjoy their last hours of summer vacation. She came to a stop at one of the only stoplights in town, rolling her shoulders dreading whatever was to come when she reached the boarding house. The youngest Salvatore felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, a shiver going down her spine, every nerve ending coming to life in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. Lee let her head turn to the right, following the pull of whatever was happening.

‘What…” The lithe form of a brunette teen who was walking beside another girl was at the center of her focus. “Turn around.” Lee knew the brunette couldn’t hear her words. Her plea was answered as she turned, eyes almost searching. Those eyes, that’s what did it. “Who are you?” A horn from behind her snapped Lee out of her trance, for a nanosecond the two locked eyes. The vampire’s eyes hidden behind her aviators. The next Lee was pulling off, possibly faster than she should have been. Now she had the true answer of why Stefan refused to leave. 

----

Lee placed a few notebooks, her sketchbook, and a few pens into her satchel--the one she’d had since she was a teen; a gift from her aunt she’d never been able to part with. She glanced up at the ceiling hearing Stefan’s footsteps on the roof. A sigh left her lips, why had she agreed to this? She was roughly 160 years old and able to enroll herself in a Small Town America High School. It was ridiculous; a complete stalker move. There had to be other ways for Stefan to get to know this girl, if that’s even what he was truly hoping to do. For how Stef had explained the situation, Lee could tell he was only doing this because of Katherine.

Subconsciously her thumb started to play with the band of her daylight ring. She was thankful for the chance of life Katherine Pierce had given her but there was so much Lee wished was different. Shaking her head to break out of her thoughts she moved toward her closet to get dressed. Lee scanned through her options, To be me or be who society thinks I should be? It was a debate she hadn’t had in a long time. To make this work she couldn’t disturb the waters between her and her brothers too much. A short laugh left her lips, that was a joke. The three couldn’t be in the same room without starting something. As it was right now, it was just two of them. With that thought in mind Lee grabbed an outfit that would be her. 

Guys white wash skinny jeans that weren’t too tight to show her tuck, a grey and white hooded baseball tee that had a pocket on the left chest, her grey vans, and her black leather jacket she’s had since the 90’s. She finished the look with a black watch. One more look in the mirror and she was pocketing her phone with one hand and slipped her satchel over her shoulder with the other.

She knew Stefan would already be off. His stalker-like tendencies being on overdrive since the ‘animal attack’ last night after Lee had arrived. She ignored Zack who was in his office and headed to the garage, she wasn’t going to run to the school. There wasn’t anything wrong with arriving in style.

-------

Stefan met her in the parking lot. Lee took her helmet off and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing at her brother, her own sunglasses covering her eyes. “Why do you always insist on dressing like that?” He asked, judgement clear in his voice. 

“This is me Stefan. You know that. Let it go. You asked for my help so take me as I am or I get on this bike and leave.” She told him. Lee wasn’t going to put up with his judgement. The world had given her enough of that. Plus her brother had already had his fair share of giving her judgement when they were younger. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Lee stated, “This is definitely traveling into creeper status.” Stefan didn’t answer, just turned to walk through the crowd of students covering the lawn reconnecting after a summer away. She moved into step beside him, she knew they stood out; leather jackets, both well built and confident in their strides, the aurora of not giving a fuck rolling off them both. 

They finally found their way to the admissions office, standing shoulder to shoulder. Stefan handed over the file that was supposed to hold all they needed but Lee knew was missing more than a few things. She wondered which of the two would compel the woman. Stefan could but where all he drank was Bambi and Co blood who knew how long it would last. Lee sighs, she’s ready to make the move when something behind them stops her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her nerves firing up again, and she felt that pull to turn around. She also could feel a warm buzz in the air, a witch.

“Hold up. Who’s this?” The first female says, the witch.

The secretary’s voice brings her back to what’s in front of her, saying exactly what she knew was coming. “Your records are incomplete. You’re both missing immunization records and we do insist on transcripts.” Lee glances at Stefan out of the corner of her eye. The last transcripts she had were college one's back in the 1980’s. She hadn’t done high school since the late 70’s and that was only to get into Yale. Their art programs the top in the country. 

Thoughts of the past make her miss her chance, Stefan is taking his sunglasses off, “Please look again,” Lee adjusts her satchel hoping Stefan can do this right. “I’m sure everything you need for both of us is there.” Lee chews the inside of her lower lip, her free hand moving to remove her sunglasses just in case. 

The secretary looks back down, “Well you’re right.” Lee tucks her sunglasses into the collar of her shirt as the woman looks back up at her brother. “So it is.” Stefan-1, Humanity-0.

“Thank you,” Stefan, ever the polite one, says. As they turn to go, Lee glances over at her brother’s schedule. Seems they have all but one class together--Lee has art and Stefan a creative writing course. That works.

“You’re welcome,’ The secretary says, her eyes landing on the two teens in the hall. “Ahh! Miss Bennett, Miss Gilbert I’m glad you’re here. Do you think you could show our two newest students around?” She stands up from behind her desk to walk around to the siblings. “This is Lee and Stefan Salvatore. I think they both have a few classes with you both.” Lee takes in who she now know as a Bennett witch, why the magic felt warm. She gives the teen a charming smile before the pull is to much, her head being forced to turn to the brunette beside her. The vampire takes her in, all she can see is someone new. Lee doesn’t see Katherine when she looks at her. “Hi,” The charming smile turning into a much softer one. “I’m Lee.” She offers her hand to the girl.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Answer asap (I feel bad saying that, but I'm stuck). Do you have any resources for dating/not dating non-christians? A dear friend of mine told me they care for me, and I feel the same for them, but... all the resources online warn again and again not to date non-christians lest they endanger my faith. I feel like going forward with this would be ignorant at best and would set us both up for heartbreak. And I fear my fear itself would lead to me trying to convert them. But I still care for them.

Hey, anon! Thanks for reaching out -- the rhetoric among many Christians against interfaith relationships, particularly with the argument that they’re “unequally yoked,” is something I haven’t addressed in years, and have been meaning to discuss again. 

Little disclaimer at the start that this stuff is so contextual, and it’s personal -- I don’t know your life as well as you do, or this friend of yours like you do. Maybe what i say doesn’t fit you and your situation. 

_____________

To begin, I firmly believe that interfaith relationships can be and often are truly beautiful, holy partnerships. (This includes relationships in which one or multiple members identifies as an atheist / otherwise doesn’t ascribe to a particular religion.) 

When both (or all) members are respectful of one another’s beliefs, and find as much joy in learning as in teaching their partner(s), their unique perspectives can deeply enrich one another. You can bear good fruit together that glorifies God and nourishes others. 

This being said, you definitely want to at least begin working through your worries and fears before starting to date this person. If you enter the relationship overwhelmed with fear or guilt about dating them, it’ll bring a lot of resentment and angst. The rest of this post points out things you’ll want to reflect on and read up on before entering this or any interfaith relationship -- and offers resources that can help.

_________

Interfaith Partners: Always “Unequally Yoked”?

I’m sure you’ve seen a certain phrase on those websites you mentioned, drawn from 2 Corinthians 6:14 -- “unequally yoked.”  I’m going to end this post with some alternative ways of interpreting this verse, but what Christians who advise against interfaith relationships take it to mean is something like this:

Just as two animals yoked to the same plow should be of equal strength and on the same page so that one doesn’t do more of the work, or get tugged away from the work by the other one, two partners should also be of equal “spiritual” strength and on the same page when it comes to their faith...

And of course, these people will say, a person who is Christian is definitely spiritually stronger than any non-Christian -- and a non-Christian might just pull them away from The Way, getting them to skip church or prayers or even stop being Christian entirely.

But there are a lot of assumptions there that don’t hold true in every relationship, right? First off, who says every Christian is necessarily “spiritually stronger” than every non-Christian? To claim that is to assume that non-Christians don’t also have access to spirituality or to the Divine -- which I’m going to push against throughout this post. 

Furthermore, the assumption that a non-Christian partner will definitely harm your own Christian faith doesn’t have to be true, as I’ll get to in a second.

So yeah, keeping these assumptions about an interfaith relationship being inherently “unequally yoked” in mind, and with a plan on returning to this phrase at the end, let’s move on to specific things you should think about before entering an interfaith relationship. 

______________

Must a non-Christian partner “endanger” your faith -- or can they enrich it?

If being open to learning about how our fellow human beings perceive the world, humanity, and the divine “endangers one’s faith,” perhaps that kind of faith was not made to last. Perhaps it has to give way in order to birth a new, deeper faith -- a faith that is bold enough to wrestle with God as Jacob did; broad enough to survive questions and doubts and times of grief; and wise enough to perceive the Spirit blowing wherever She will (John 3:8), not only among Christians.

If your partner truly respects you and your faith even if it’s different from theirs, they’ll do what they can to help you be the best Christian you can be -- or at the very least, they will give you the space and time you need to go to church, pray, etc. And you will do the same, helping them to be the best Muslim, Buddhist, or simply person they can be.

I highly recommend asking this friend of yours before you start dating what their thoughts are on your being a Christian, and/or on Christianity in general.

Is it something that makes them happy for you? is it something that makes them deeply uncomfortable? or something that they don’t have strong feelings one way or the other on? .

How “involved” would they be open to being in your faith? Would they be interested in going to church with you, as long as they could trust you weren’t trying to force them into anything? Would they enjoy talking about your varying beliefs together and how they impact your lives? Or would they never ever want you to bring up Christianity (which I imagine for you would be a deal breaker)? .

Be open and honest with one another about what expectations you each have about things like boundaries around discussing faith, about time and space you each want for practicing your faith, etc. As you seem aware, it’s better to get all this clear before you start dating, to avoid problems later down the road! 

For an example of what such discussions might look like, I found this story from Robert Repta, a Christian man married to a Jewish man. Their union, he says, has included working out what it means not only to be gay persons of faith, but also persons of two different faiths:

“Ultimately, what happened was that in our struggles to find ourselves, we ended up growing closer together. We both supported and challenged each other. We began asking each other bigger life questions and talking about religion, God, science. Both of our lives were evolving, and what started to happen was that we started seeing the similarities in our core beliefs more than the differences. Some of those beliefs even evolved along the way.

We both believed in God. We both believed that God is love. We volunteered together. He would occasionally come with me to church, and I would occasionally go with him to the synagogue. Eventually, I could see that the common thread between us was unconditional love. The same unconditional love of God.”

_____________

On pressuring a non-Christian partner to convert -- assumptions about Christian superiority & fearing for their afterlife destination

It’s really good you recognize that it might end up being hard for you not to try to get this person to convert! Before dating them, you should keep reflecting on this and decide whether that’s something you can let go of or not. If it’s not, then you’re probably right in thinking this relationship won’t work out. 

It would be highly disrespectful to this person you care about to pressure them to become a Christian in order for you to feel okay about being with them. (And for more thoughts on how evangelism and conversion as carried out by many Christians isn’t what Jesus had in mind, see this post.) Doing so would imply a lot of things, including that you don’t think they’re a worthy or equal partner unless they make this big change, that whatever beliefs or ideologies they currently hold are inferior to yours, etc.

In order for your interfaith relationship to go well, you would need to come to understand non-Christians as being equally made in God’s image, equally worthy of dignity, equally capable of doing good in the world. You’d have to come to believe that there is much of value within their own religion / ideology that you as a Christian could learn from. 

Let’s bring in our lovely Christian/Jewish couple from before: as his relationship with David developed, Robert discovered that 

“God is not conformed to this world we live in; God does not belong solely to the Pentecostals or the Baptists, to the Jews or Gentiles, to Muslims or Zoroastrians. Two of the most profound self-identifiers God calls himself in the Bible is “love” and “I am.””

Here are a few resources that can help you explore the idea that other religions are as valid as Christianity and also have much wisdom to bring to the world:

I highly recommend you check out the book Holy Envy by Barbara Brown Taylor to help you explore how you can be a devout Christian and learn from and form mutual relationships with persons who are not Christian. You can check out passages from the book in my tag here. .

You might also like my two podcast episodes on interfaith relationships (in general, not romantic ones, but the same material applies) -- episode 30, “No One Owns God: Readying yourself for respectful interfaith encounters” and episode 31, “It's good to have wings, but you have to have roots too": Cultivating your faith while embracing religious pluralism.” You can find links to both episodes as well as their transcripts over on this webpage. .

There might also be some helpful stuff in my #interfaith tag or #other faiths tag if you wander around. .

Simply getting to know whatever religion this friend does belong to (or what ideologies and value systems they maintain if they’re atheist / non-religious) can also be super helpful. Ask them what resources they can think of that can help get to know their religion as they experience it. Attend worship service (virtually works!), seek out folks on social media who share their religion, etc. I bet you’ll find a lot that you have in common -- and hopefully you’ll find some of the differences thought-provoking and enriching to your own understandings of Divinity!

I’m guessing a lot of your worry stems from the assumption that non-Christians don’t go to heaven. If you believe that not being a Christian leads to hell after death, it’s very hard to view non-Christians and their beliefs as equal to your own!

That Holy Envy book discusses this genuine fear many Christians have on behalf of non-Christians, and how to let it go.  .

Here’s a post with links to other posts describing the belief that many faithful and serious Christians hold that non-Christians don’t all get whisked to hell. .

And a post on the harm done by fearmongering about hell. .

Finally, a little more on the academic side but if you’re interested in some history behind Christian views of hell that can help you see that there really is no one “true” belief here, check out the links in this post.

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Reinterpreting “unequally yoked”

I said we’d get back to this, and here we are! While the easiest to find interpretation of 2 Corinthians 6:14′s “Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers” is that it argues against interfaith marriage, there are other ways to read this text.

I adore this article I found on the passage from a Christian minister who is married to a Hindu monk -- “Unequally Yoked”: How Christians Get Interfaith Marriage Wrong.” Incredibly, Rev. J. Dana Trent writes that when she and her now-husband dug into 2 Corinthians 6:14 to see what it was all about, she found that 

“An ancient scripture meant to deter us from getting involved with each other actually brought us together. Our core beliefs in God became the focus of our study and relationship, not the issues that divided us.”

She also explains that biblical scholars say this verse isn’t even specifically about interfaith marriage -- which becomes clear when you read the full chapter surrounding it! It’s more general -- about the hazards of “working with” an unbeliever.

And what exactly is an unbeliever? Paul and other “believers” of these very early days of Christianity had a different definition than we might today -- an “unbeliever” wasn’t synonymous with “non-Christian,” because Christianity hadn’t even solidified into an actual religion yet! Instead, a nonbeliever was "anyone exposed to but was not faithful to Christ’s teachings—someone not characterized by devotion, love, peace, mercy, and forgiveness.” 

In other words, if a person in those early days was told about the good news of Jesus that entailed things like liberation of the oppressed and love of neighbor, they didn’t have to “become a Christian” to accept that good news. And thus, Rev. Trent continues,

“Today, my husband’s deep Hindu faith has taught me to dig deeper into what Jesus would have me do. Perhaps Paul might have even considered me an “unbeliever,” as I claimed to be a baptized Christian, but my life did not inwardly and outwardly reflect the Gospel. Since marrying Fred, I re-attuned my life to Christian spiritual practices: spending more time in contemplative prayer, practicing non-violence through a vegetarian diet, limiting my consumption, and increasing my service to others.

Much to many Christians’ dismay, it took a person of another faith—a seemingly “unequally yoked” partner, to strengthen my Christian walk.”

Isn’t it beautiful to hear how this relationship between a Christian minister and Hindu monk has born good fruit for both of them? They help one another become the best Christian and best Hindu they can be, respectively. They are both so deeply committed to faith -- that doesn’t sound like an “unequal yoking” to me.

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Whew, this got long! But it’s a big topic, and one I hope you’ll take the time to explore. Bring God into it; bring your friend into as much as they’re comfortable. And feel free to come back and ask me more questions as you go.

If anyone knows of other articles or other resources that explore the good fruit that can come from an interfaith partnership, please share!