#Three Signs the Porcupine is Reading Your Mind

[thatsbelievable]

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

JATP ROUND TWO FICS!

We received seventeen (17!!!!!) Fics for the Second Round of the JATP TROPED Event! These fics were fluff-filled and super fun, and we loved to see how you all challenged yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners!

Voting will be open until May 14th at 11:59pm EST! Vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BZ3W5FT

Please rank ALL the fics in each question based on the USE of each trope, the theme, the fics overall, and the two bonus polls (best setting + most unique pairing)! Your #1 spot should be the best answer and your last spot the least likely answer for the question. The Best Overall Poll will determine who will be writing in the Final Round! We ask that you please rank EVERY fic, so we can avoid technical difficulties! A reminder that you must include a Tumblr or AO3 username/URL, and you may only vote once, we will NOT count multiple votes by the same person.

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Okay, Campers, Rise and Shine! (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: When Reggie launches a particularly ill-advised prank war at HGC Ranch, Luke's fully prepared to take it in stride.

When the days start looping, though, he begins to suspect that this might all be a little bit above his head.

In other words, he's at least 78% sure that the time loop isn't a direct result of Reggie's pranks.

Maybe 77%.

Oh, well.

At least he's not in it alone.

(The Groundhog Day meets Gravity Falls meets Summer Camp meets The Author's Own Distaste For Prank Wars AU that no one asked for. Ever. At all.)

Starting To Forget (Just What Summer Ever Meant To You) (Not Rated) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Last summer didn't end on a positive note for Carrie Wilson - she and her girlfriend broke up on the last night of camp, and she's been miserable since. But it seems that the universe is intent on having her fix that this summer. Even if that means she has to live through the same day over and over and over again until she does.

Creative B.S. Was No More, Was No Less (Look Around, You're Gonna Miss What You Found) (Rated T) [Alex x Luke, Flynn x Reggie]

Summary: The midnight men move again

Don't know when

Best friends forever

In trouble again

Here's to you, here's to me

Over the rafters and we're free

--- Over the Rafters, Rick Schiffman

***

Alex and Luke go undercover on a mission to a summer camp in order to find a talisman that could endanger the camp and all the kids. While there, they bond with the kids and make peace with the fact that they broke up.

While Alex and Luke are away, Flynn accidentally fucks with time.

bitch but like romantically (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: The dining hall’s exactly the same as it has been for two mornings now, and Flynn doesn’t hesitate to poke Willie twice on the nose and whisper “pancake” on her way past their seat.

His eyes widen and he whips his head around to follow them, excitement glimmering in their eyes.

“Really?” they blurt. Flynn rolls her eyes and nods.

~

or: flynn gets stuck in a time loop. {for troped jatp round 2}

down by the bay (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: Over time, Camp Phantom has simply become known as a selective summer camp: one that took only the kids that Caleb saw promise in. And Caleb wasn’t exactly lying. He really did take only the ones he saw promise in, he simply looked for different traits than others might.

For example, say, hypothetically, a boy who could see the future. Or, hypothetically, a girl who could interact with ghosts. Or, hypothetically, a boy who could summon objects to him with a simple thought. Or, and this is completely hypothetical mind you, a boy who could manipulate time.

Those might be some traits that Caleb saw promise in. Just, like, as examples.

Time will tell (But only if you do it right) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Carrie had been acting a little off for a week or so, but Flynn was pretty much known for seeing something in nothing, and that was probably what they were doing then. If something was going on, Carrie would tell her eventually.

OR

Who knew all it took was a little bit of miscommunication to mess up time itself?

and so it begins (Rated T) [Bobby x Reggie]

Summary: It’s the first day of their second week at Camp Carolling (they’re spending an entire month, and they’re getting paid to be there!) when Reggie gets a little lost in the woods. During this misadventure into the woods, he finds an egg shaped rock, an inhabited cabin that may or may not be riddled with signs, and something that might be magic. He probably doesn't get paid enough to discover magic.

or, when they were thirteen years old, four boys met at camp carolling and eventually became a band that almost became something legendary. now, all four boys are coming back as counselors, three boys in one band and one boy in his own solo act.

so begins the reunion, though it doesn't go how any of them imagine.

Porcupine Day (Rated T) [Bobby x Ray x Rose]

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Trevor broke up with Ray and Rose and they’re... not fine, but managing. But when Trevor to adds insult to injury and buys the camp across the lake from the one they once owned together, the two camps become locked in a bitter rivalry. With neither side willing to set aside their pride and work out their issues, the universe decides to settle their fates itself.

Day After Day (After Day After Day) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: When Alex met Willie just after their senior year of high school, they spent a wonderful three months dating before their relationship ended in a blaze of glory. Now, four years later, they meet again as counselors at a summer camp. The only problem? Alex keeps reliving their first day together. The day that Luke had declared "Prank Day."

This is not how Alex pictured his summer going.

clocks move faster (it's all we're after) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie likes it when her friends are happy, so when she realizes she's stuck in a time loop, she uses her knowledge to make sure everything works out for everyone... except she conveniently forgets to factor herself (and Luke) into the mix.

Touch of Magic (Not Rated) [Alex x Luke]

Summary: When everything stands in Luke and Alex’s way of getting to be with the people they love, they have to repeat the day over and over until they can get the happily ever after that they want.

The play's the thing (that goes wrong) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day for Macbeth, but not so for Alex and the production of Hamlet that he is directing and starring in. And while he's stuck repeating the day of the performance over and over, mishaps of all kinds befall the cast.

anything, anything (for another run with you) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: The moment Alex steps foot in Camp Greenwood, he knows that this summer is a bad idea.

He knows it as soon as he sees tan skin, long hair, and a tie-dyed crop top at the check-in table.

Willie.

-

the camp counselor/exes/prank war/time loop fic of your dreams (unless you read all of the other troped round 2 fics lmao)

there’s a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: What comes next happens in slow motion. Luke’s foot catches on the last rung of the ladder. Julie watches as he stumbles a step forward, barely catching himself before falling on his face. The ladder clatters to the floor below. The trapdoor, no longer propped open by it, falls closed with a loud thunk, the lock clicking into place. They’re stuck.

“Luke!” she exclaims loudly. “Look what you did!” Julie drops to her knees in front of the trap door, desperately trying to fit her fingers between the wood and the stone to pry it open again. Of course it doesn’t work.

“What?” he snaps back. “I wouldn’t be up here in the first place if it weren’t for you trying to fuck us over.”

or: ex-best friends Luke and Julie, working as camp counselors at rivaling camps, find themselves stuck in a time loop

the daughter of apollo (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: (the JATP x Camp Half Blood AU that nobody asked for)

maybe the world isn't ending (maybe it's been postponed) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Alex runs his fingers through Willie’s hair. “I think it’s best to just leave them to their own prank war at this point. Let’s not forget that time Julie put hot sauce in the coffee pot and my mouth was on fire for an entire hour.”

“You’re exaggerating, Alex-”

“I most certainly am not,” Alex cuts Reggie off.

“Or how about the time Luke tried to put glitter in Julie’s bed,” Carrie joins in, “but got my bed instead? I can appreciate some glitter, but even I know when enough is enough.”

“Suffice it to say,” Willie finishes after they’ve passed around a dozen or so more memories of pranks from the summer, “we’re all done being your collateral damage. Whatever Julie has planned for you tomorrow, Luke, you’re on your own.”

-

It's the last day of camp and Julie has one more prank planned for Luke. He just doesn't know what it is.

Here We Go Again (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie blinked as she stared at the place Euterpe had disappeared. What did that even mean? What journey? Old places and lost faces? What was she talking about? But before she could dwell on the questions swirling around in her mind, the sky full of stars began to move, shifting in place and descending until they were all around her. Julie felt her feet leave the ground as she rose up and up. One star in particular was burning brighter than the others, growing bigger in front of her.

It grew and grew, until the light was blinding and Julie had to throw a hand up against the harsh light. She closed her eyes as the light surrounded her and then she was falling. Falling down, down, down.

[korijime]

— apaixonar

(verb.) to fall in love with someone or something, the act of falling in love

shigaraki tomura, boku no hero academia

fluff, modern!college!au, social anxiety, slightly sexual jokes, swearing

wc ; one thousand six hundred and fifty nine words

dt ; @t-amajiki

riyuu says ; ahh, i don’t know what to say here. i started this last night, but i got the idea a really long time ago in one of our conversations. i was really scared about getting his character right and i hope i did it some justice. big thank you to @tokyoghoose for proof-reading!! i’d have cried if the mistakes you pointed out weren’t fixed sbdubdidjd

this is kinda a part of a series..i guess? there’s two more fics coming, so i guess it’s 1/3 of the fics i wrote for gere and 1/6 of all the gifts i made for them in total.

so yes, happy birthday, gere. i love you to the moon and back and i’d do damn near anything for you. i hope you like your gifts. ♡

“oi, crusty, look over there.”

the ‘crusty’ in question, a pale-faced young man, cast an annoyed glance in the direction of his partner’s finger. he never once listened to what dabi had to say, yet he knew from the tone in his voice that it would be something that had to do with you. and so he looked, and he didn’t regret listening.

he looked past the window of the chemistry lab, past the other annoyances, and towards you, sitting in the grass with your green-haired friend. he looked at you, sitting in the grass with the late morning sunlight engulfing most of your form, casting a makeshift halo over your head. a well-deserved one, at that. subconsciously resting his face onto his gloved hand, he turned completely towards the window, towards you, his experiment long forgotten.

“okay, jesus christ, stop it. you look like a creep.”

and there goes the moment.

his once ‘softened’ eyes and good mood vanished as soon as dabi spoke up again, his form hunching and his face contorting into annoyance once again.

“no, i don’t. you’re the creep.”

“sure, i was the one who sighed when they smiled for the camera, right?”

“shut up. you’re the creep, i’m right.”

of course that bastard was looking at him while he, in dabi’s words, ‘fawned’ over you.

he didn’t. he just knew how to appreciate good things. it didn’t really matter whether or not his cheeks and ears became heaters whenever you’d look at him, it happens to everyone.

right?

“not right. factually incorrect. you’re a dumbass, go ask them out.”

“i’m the dumbass when you’re the one who blew up our project not even two minutes ago? i’m not a mirror, you easy-bake oven.”

and so on and so forth, until the bell finally rang to signal the end of their day.

tomura shigaraki, never one to listen to anything his ‘best friend’ says, never one to hang around anyone except dabi and a few others, was seen moving methodically and quite swiftly through the halls of u.a academy, heading straight towards the small group of third-years standing at the far end of the corridor.

they’d known him for three years, they knew his mannerisms and the way his mind worked. it was only natural that both toga and twice had to fish out five dollars each to hand to a very smug-looking dabi, who only watched with a shit-eating grin as tomura went up to you.

he could feel his friends’ eyes on his back, but it didn’t register in his mind which was currently screaming at him to get the hell out of this situation what were you thinking because now not only you and your friends but a couple of other students and even teachers in the corridor were gawking at the infamous anti-social boy who was looking at his shoes like they were the love of his life and not you.

his stomach twisted and churned painfully, the nausea he felt was nothing compared to the embarrassment and humiliation he felt, the same embarrassment which was painted bright on his face.

maybe he could just pretend he wanted your notes and call it a day and go home and cry—

“aye, you crusty fuck! don’t chicken out now or you’re doing my homework for the next week!”

fuck that fucking blue haired porcupine ass smug-looking son of a bit-

“ne, shigaraki-kun, did you need something?”

he sent his prayers to whatever god was above for sending an actual angel to be standing in front of him and pull him out of his formerly very quickly approaching spiral.

“are you..areyoufreeafterclasses?”

you furrowed your brows and stepped closer to him, ignoring the way tsuyu tried to pull you back. tomura was your friend, or at the very least, your acquaintance, she had no reason to be so wary.

“what was that? i didn’t catch that.”

the construction of the academy and the location of the institute was quite unfortunate, it would have been better suited in one of the islands near florida so that the bermuda triangle could’ve just swallowed it up so he wouldn’t have to be in this situation where he wanted nothing more than to evaporate into fucking water vapour why are you looking at him like THAT-

“are..you free after classes? i need your help with something.”

“oh! yeah, sure! what do you need help with?”

and apparently that was the director’s cue for everyone to go back to minding their own business. the students’ chatters started up again and the ones that had stopped to watch realised they had better things to do than gawk at the college loner asking the pretty one for help. even your friend group stepped back to let the two of you have some semblance of privacy, and tomura had never felt more relieved.

“you’re, uh, in fine arts, right? i have a project on that and i need to know more about it.”

he made the effort to finally look up and he was glad he did. like really, really glad. because the way you were looking at him with the same smile you’d given the camera, your hands clasped together as you leaned towards him, really just made all the embarrassment and humiliation worth it.

“sure! just let me say bye to my friends and we can get going, i know a good cafe near the campus.”

he only nodded and turned at the same time you did, heading towards the shitheads while you headed for your friends.

“would you look at that, crusty-no-balls finally grew some.”

“nice one, tomura! make sure to get their number!”

“toga-chan, they will be studying together, i doubt they’ll have time for that.”

and the rest was tuned out as he leaned on his locker, looking out towards the gates and back at you. he really did that, didn’t he? worked up the guts to ask you out, even if it was under the guise of a study session. which wasn’t a complete lie, what the hell did ‘fine arts’ mean, anyway?

“visual arts! stuff like painting and architecture and theatre, alongside others. i’m pretty sure poetry and prose are on there too.”

“wait, so you’re taking all of that? how.”

it was late afternoon now, around three or four when he had last checked. time wasn’t really important right now, not when he managed to kill two birds with one stone.

he was getting to spend time with you and do his project, added with you talking about your passions as a bonus.

he stopped typing and reached for his drink, which he did not choose because you told him to, thank you very much and fuck off, dabi.

looking back towards the screen, he realised he was almost done with his project, which was a surprise as he was sure he was paying zero attention to the project itself and hundred percent attention to you instead.

could anyone blame him? no.

no, they couldn’t.

they couldn’t blame him for having his attention on you when you went into the fine details of prose and theatre, using hand gestures to try and get across the point which you couldn’t do so with words. apparently you thought he knew sign language. which he did. it was an option, seemed interesting, nothing more nothing less.

is what he told dabi when he asked. but no, the real reason was the one you knew, which was the fact that the shelter he volunteers at has some people who prefer to use sign language, whatever the reason may be. he knew how it felt to be forced into doing something even though you’re comfortable with something else, but you can’t do that something else because it’s not convenient for others.

so yeah, sign language.

he was pretty sure it earned him some brownie points with you, for which he wasn’t complaining.

what he was complaining about, though, was the fact that you thought it’d be a good idea to steal a bite of his pastry while he was lost in thought.

“hey! thief. stop that.”

“no, it looked tasty.”

“okay, and so do you. you don’t see me biting you.”

..the fuck?

what the FUCK did he just-

run.

take your laptop, and your phone, and your bag, and get the hell out.

his mind kept chanting that over and over, and he was listening to it, his clammy hands reaching to close his laptop as he got up but then. stopped.

you were laughing. at him. you were laughing at his major fuck-up.

“ne, ne, tomura-kun. i had no idea you were into that.”

yes, yes, he knows. he knows it’s weird and that it’s a weird thing to say to someone who he has a crush on and-

“honestly, the last time i made a joke like that, deku combusted and iida looked constipated.”

“wh-what was the joke?”

“i’ll show you later!”

he choked.

“show me!?”

“you sure sound excited, tomura-kun.”

the grin on your face did nothing to calm the hundred-mile marathon that both his heart and mind had been running ever since he said that.

what was even happening anymore.

that was the question which kept running through his mind even as he walked you home, thanking you for your help.

“no worries! i’d love to spend more time with you.”

what was happening.

“oh and, i also have an assignment due, do you think you could help me with it?”

“yeah, sure. same cafe?”

“sounds good! i’ll see you friday, then!”

“mhm.”

what the fuck was happening.

he’d like to say he didn’t care nor did he think about it, but the way you hugged him goodbye with a promise to see him again left the smallest of smiles on his face which didn’t go away for a while.

tagged ; @t-amajiki @tokyoghoose @kei7ime @inarizsunarin @tsukkiboii @spicyfoodboi @kakiwrites @lcaita @lnarizakis @kuro0luvr @himichii

[the-lincyclopedia]

* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime. 

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is. 

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute. 

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault. 

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always. 

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other. 

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad. 

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity. 

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap. 

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: “Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form. 

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story. 

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

[crazyfreckledginger]

Ikemen Sengoku x Reader - “Wrong Move” [Part 1]

Under unfortunately ironic circumstances, you get taken hostage by the the very person that made the truce between the Oda forces and Takeda-Uesugi alliance happen. However, angering these warlords and using the person that brought all of them together in a heartbeat was probably the worst strategy anyone could come up with. 

Requested by @djanowski15 : “I have no idea how bisy you are, I’m guessing it’s pretty busy since I’m a college student in quarantine too, but I was wondering, if you have time, if you could do a fic for the sengoku warlords having a meeting about a new oc enemy after their truce signing only to learn that this new enemy somehow ended up kidnapping mc and threatening to kill her and all of the warlords decide to finally stomp this guy down into his rightful place with a fluffy reunion with everyone afterwards?”

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I kind of went overboard with this because I loved the idea so much, it comes in two parts, I’ll post them in succession and I’m sorry if the ending isn’t as developed as you wanted, it would have gone on for too long otherwise T-T.

Dusting her hands off on her cloth, she walked back from Masamune’s manor towards the castle. It stood tall for tonight’s ‘celebratory truce dinner’ -- although it was clear it wasn’t a celebration for any of them, but it was compulsory. Despite the thorough organisation that went through with this, it was an in-between warlords event so only two or three vassals per side were going to be present, for protection purposes. 

Switching hands, her fingers curled around the bag of vegetables that the One-Eyed Dragon needed. Finally arriving at the entrance, she wobbled down the corridor, having to stop every now and again as her palms burned. This wasn’t the best fabric to carry heavy things with, but then again, what is?

“Whoever ordered my beautiful angel to carry such a heavy load and injure her precious hands is on his way to hell.” (Y/N) recognised the honey-dipped voice with a stern tone. Turning around, she faced the tall man. Elegantly, he took it out of her grasp and carried it, making it look effortless.

“Thank you Shingen,” she smiled, massaging herself as she walked alongside him.

“Although you shouldn’t curse Masamune to hell, I volunteered to go to his manor to get these supplies.” She defended.

“Would you mind showing me his manor?” he grinned widely as they both turned into another hallway. Giving him a you-are-all-my-friends-and-I-wouldn’t-help-either-side-try-to-go-against-each-other look. It would also be a little indecent to collect information on a newly formed ally. 

“Oh, it’s you.” the familiar grumpy voice made the man’s smile fall immediately. 

The spikey blond hair came into view as he exited the kitchen. 

“Look my darling, we’re all getting along.” Shingen chuckled sarcastically, sliding an arm around her shoulders as he dropped the bag on the floor.

“We might be on a truce but not all of us take kindly to other men being so touchy with Nobunaga’s lucky charm.” a stray kitsune passed by the hallway.

“And by ‘not all of us’ you mean you.” Yukimura, who was following being, chimed in.

“Too many people in the kitchen, everyone except the lass leaves!” The Tiger ordered. 

****

“He did that to have her all by himself.” Ieyasu grumbled at Mitsunari's innocence.

Because (Y/N) is the most reasonable when it comes to cooking out of the rest. Pff, my ass.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe it could be true but everyone knew that wasn’t the reason behind it. Well, everyone except Mitsunari of course.

Nobunaga glanced at the door when Hideyoshi wasn’t looking.

“I’ll just go see if (Y/N) and Masamune are nearly finished.” started to stand up, Hideyoshi interrupted.

“I took the candy away, it's not in the kitchen.” Pouting, he sat back down. 

“Candy?” Shingen straightened his posture from his bored one.

“Dinner.” (Y/N) announced as the door was slid open for her, followed by Masamune and two maids, who were also carrying plates of food. 

Plopping down beside Nobunaga -- as required, he leaned over to her giving her a knowing look. Rolling her eyes and sighing, she slipped the tiny satchel from inside her sleeve and sneakily handed it to him.

“I’ll take you wherever you wish as payment for this, I’m eternally grateful to you for saving my life.” He thanked me. Shingen kept his attention on the bag.

“Don’t be so dramatic, now hide it before I get scolded by Hideyoshi!” 

****

Looking around in the kitchen, she waved the lantern around, searching for the spice that the maids forgot to take for dessert. (Y/N) was the only one in the room, it was dark and not necessary to add more light since she was passing by. On her way here, she crossed paths with the occasional guard on for obvious reasons, they were the only ones in the castle tonight. 

“Oh!” she jumped.

Speak of the devil.

“What are you doing here?” the woman breathed out as the man bowed.

“I apologise, my lady, I heard some suspicious noises and thought it was best to investigate.” 

“Oh, I was just getting some seasoning.” the (H/C) haired chuckled in embarrassment, he was too sweet and she didn’t want to waste his time further “and I think I found it.” turning away to reach the small jar that was on one of the shelves. 

Right after, footsteps grew louder and she felt him right behind her.

“Hey, what are you-MMH!!” she wriggled as something was placed against her mouth and nose and then pulled against his chest. Her muffled sounds grew more and more silent, muscles limping as she drifted off into unconsciousness.

****

“The desserts are getting colder by the minute. What is taking her so long?” Masamune frowned.

“This talk is becoming dull.” Yukimura huffed.

“The whole point of this truce is to discuss how we’re going to deal with him.” Ieyasu mumbled.

“You weren’t the one travelling all those days on horseback porcupine head.” the vassal retorted. 

“P-porcupine?!” the blond’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Hideyoshi made eye contact with Nobunaga, for once, ignoring the pointless banter. Something was definitely up. The leader of the Oda forces understood immediately, nodding to his vassal. The latter stood up, walking towards the door.

“I need to make sure she’s alright.” 

“I’ll come with.” Sasuke volunteered.

*****

“She’s gone??” Ieyasu’s eyes widened.

“The search party hasn’t come back with anything yet.” Mitsuhide expressed with a scowl.

“My lords!” One of the guards rushed in, bowing deeply.

“What is it?” Mitsuhide turned around. 

“It’s a letter.” he handed it to him before scurrying outside like he was supposed to. 

Nobody moved but the kitsune could tell all their eyes were on him as he unfolded the letter to read. However, his heart dropped as his eyes fixated something else that was included: hair of a familiar colour, tied in a ribbon. His fingertips pulled it out and he inspected it.

Kenshin felt his hand grip his sword tightly, it was unbearably frustrating finding out that (Y/N) was kidnapped and on top of that not knowing who did it, he needed to know and he knew he wasn’t the only one thinking the same. 

No one spoke but the tension grew thick in an instant.

Unfolding the piece of paper, he began to read it for himself before doing it out loud for all to hear when Nobunaga accepted it.

When he finished reading the letter, his eyes darted across the rooms, seeing the anger among everything despite maintaining their composure. 

“Emergency meeting.” The look he gave implied that their new allies were not going to attend.

“We want in!” Yukimura frowned.

“No.” Ieyasu’s tone was stern.

“We’ve signed a truce, and there is no point in keeping us out of this because of our own motives when we cherish (Y/N) as much as you do. We need to put our differences aside, as she would say.” Shingen chipped in.

“Fine.” Nobunaga’s eyes narrowed. 

They sat formally as they would at any meeting before.

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[teamvnla]

Cutscene ; Turnabout

“Do I look familiar?” The doctor asked in a soft tone, his eyes looked over Kashmere’s face. He had certainty grown, yet there were still distinctive features the shown through.

Kashmere stared at the man, his mind abuzz. Something about him looked so familiar, yet the young Faunus could swear he had never seen him before...however there was a chance that it was true that he knew the man and that HE didn’t know him. He took a tentative sip of his water.

“You look quite familiar, what’s your name?” Fir pressed on, there was no doubt in his mind of who the boy who sat before him was. He had never expected a reunion, let alone one like this. The lack of recognition in the boy’s eyes showed no sign of a front. What had happened to him?

“....my head hurts…” He mumbled, lips grazing against the plastic rim of the water bottle.

“Ah, of course. Just wait here a moment, I have just the thing.” He stood with a gentle smile, Kashmere couldn’t quite place his finger on how to feel about it unless the aftertaste at the back of his tongue was any sign. Once the man had left the room Kashmere steadied himself, pressing his ear to the door for any sign of movement on the other side. Receiving a response of silence, he slipped from the room taking the bottle with him doing his best to casually make his way out of the hospital.

He nearly flinched at the screech of his earpiece only now noticing that it had been inactive, however he didn’t hear any voices. There was no way he wouldn’t be getting an earful had it actually been working, maybe they had some faulty equipment. He tried to push what the doctor had said to him from his mind, whether that man knew whatever was before who he was now didn’t matter...right? Despite his attempts the lingering questions and familiarity remained in his mind.

————

“What the hell happened back there?!” There was the earful the porcupine had been waiting for, though he hadn’t expected it the minute the door behind him closed.

“I felt sick..” He muttered, pulling the earpiece out of his ear, “That wasn’t much help anyways.” He added tossing the earpiece onto the coffee table, while Opal was ready to give Kash a lecture on the importance of maintaining a connection to your home base Russ was quick to swipe up the earpiece cracking it open with a small pair of tools. Opal’s head swiveled upon hearing the other boy break apart a piece of her equipment, though before she could spiral into a new lecture she appeared to come to the same conclusion Russet just had.

“It’s totally fried.”

“..it wasn’t just a simple dead zone..” She muttered a manicured nail held between her teeth, the annoyed expression left the beautiful woman's face replaced with a furrowed brow as she found herself returning to her desk quickly typing eyes roaming the multitude of tabs opened. Upon seeing Russet make his way over to join the older women pointing over her shoulder and commenting on something, Kash decided to make his way outside to the balcony figuring the cold air would help him think.

He leaned forward against the balcony, slipping the water bottle from his coat pocket tracing a finger over the label of the bottle,it wasn’t like it was going to aid their job anyway, but knowing that no one from the hotel room had seen the interaction between that man and himself made his thoughts muddle up. He let out a puff of air letting his head come down a rest against the cool metal of the railing, it was soothing against the warmth of his forehead.

“...Maybe I should just start smoking like Van..” He chuckled to himself.

“Quite a nasty habit, hard one to quit at that.” He felt the tips of his quills bump up against his shirt upon hearing the sudden voice, but from the accent alone Kashmere could tell who had entered the balcony, he hadn’t even felt her approach though that wasn’t unusual for a certified Hunteress. “What’s on your mind, boy?” Tarragon asked with a warm smile, unlike when Leo referred to them as ‘kid’ or ‘boy’ to Kash hearing the older women call him ‘boy’ felt anything but condescending.

“Dunno, just thinking…” It wasn’t even a good excuse, he turned leaning back against the railing to face Tarragon. His gaze rolled over her analytically, out of the three hunters they were traveling with he had decided Tarragon was his favorite. The questions she asked never seemed to have an ulterior motive. He was a people watcher, see, when you aren't too sure who you are taking on others personalities is lot easier than you'd think. Tarragon's personality was far kinder what he had expected when he first met her, that was besides the point. The Faunus paused, gaze shifting to the building nearby. "The thing is….I have this gap in my memory...I wouldn't really call it a gap though. Its more like...like falling asleep at the beginning of a movie and waking up in the middle. So, you try to piece together your own plot from the pieces around you." He ran a hand through his hair failing to remain casual upon explaining his situation.

Tarragon watched the boy's expression, for being so stoic Kashmere was still very expressive in his own ways. Having this team around who happened to be the same age as her own child, really reinforced her reason for taking on this job with such vigor. Her thoughts shifted as his words came to stop and his gaze moved back to her looking for a reaction to go off of. Bring a hand to her chin she mulled over the new information. "So now you're wonderin' if the plot line you've come up with is anythin' close to the original?"

"I don't care about the original plot line." Kashmere was quick to respond, lips pressing together in a thin line after, it made Tarragon wonder if he was saying to convince her or himself. “I mean...why should I care? I have everything else set up just fine around me, what does the past matter?” He clearly struggled with the new emotions bubbling in his chest, he shot his gaze away taking a deep breath attempting to regain the aloof composure he was known for.

“Kash,” She began softly, “Are you worried that whatever happened that you don’t remember is going to change you?” She tilted her body trying to put herself back into his view, his gaze glanced to her briefly making eye contact. “I can assure you it wont, you’re a bright boy with a strong personality and will. Finding out what you don’t know ain’t gonna change ya, if anythin’ it’ll just make ya even more sure of who you are in this moment.” She spoke warmly and encouragingly.

“So..you’re saying I should find out.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t.”

“Sometime’s speaking to you is like solving a riddle.” Kash commented with a huff, he couldn’t tell if his thoughts were less muddled than before or if they had just gotten worse.

“How sweet, well my dear boy join the rest of when you’re ready. We’re ‘bout to have supper, you deserve a warm meal after a hard day of work.” She responded with a wave over her shoulder as she turned to exit the balcony.

Kash leaned against the railing further tilting his gaze up to stare at the darkened sky for a moment longer, what he wouldn’t give to be a bird and not have to deal with breaks from the mundane.

———

A few days had passed before Lye was being suited up for another appointment, Kash had yet to be called on for another exploration into the hospital and given few chances to be sent on reconnaissance either. He was practically bouncing at the chance to do something instead of given more times to stew in his thoughts, even his best friend was too busy to have a conversation.

“Russ, I’m probably going to head out to see if there anything I can find out from that lead from the other day.” He approached the redhead who was switching between typing away at his laptop and writing notes down. “It’s the one from the old hag who kicked you out of her shop,” He chuckled remembering the jokes they had made after the incident. “Wanna join?”

“Ah..” Russet finally looked up from the screen, a hand came to the side of his neck rubbing as he tilted his head. “Sorry man, Opal gots me workin’ cracking pass some of the firewalls for a lot of the restricted areas. Van might be willing to go with you though?”

“Yeah, Van..” Kashmere nodded nearly shocked that the person who knew how to read him the best couldn’t see the disappointment written across his face, the canine Faunus shot him a smile before returning to his work.

——-

He made his way to the living room which had been converted to the main hub of the operation, Opal was briefing Lye on the particular details she would need for the job today. He figured it would be best to make it quick.

“Lye, do you know where Van is?” He stepped in glancing towards one of the tablet screens with a feed of code he couldn’t quite understand.

“I don’t, and frankly I don’t care.” The curt response quickly reminded Kashmere of the tension still remaining between the Marigold twins. Mood clearly soured Lye purse her lips, turning her attention back to Opal. “Sorry, kinda busy right now Kash.”

He gave a silent nod taking it as his cue to see his way out, he knew she was pissed at Van, but a simple no would have been enough to send him on his way.

———

Kashmere poked his head into the penthouse kitchen where both Jae and Leo were mulling over blueprints of the hospital.  “Have you guys seen Van?” He asked, feeling as if he was interrupting despite it feeling like the millionth time he had walked in on the pair going over blueprints.

“I saw him earlier..I think he was heading out.” Jae glanced towards Kash while the only reply Leo had was a gruff shrug.

“He went with Tarragon on some reconnaissance.”

“Oh.”

Titus queried a brow at the blunt response, he figured that the boy would be more happy to receive an answer. “I can tell you where they were heading, I don’t think they’d mind the extra set of hands.” He added feeling a sense of the pity for the young hunter.

He nodded almost hesitantly, he headed out after receiving the coordinates though once a block away from the hotel he stopped abruptly. Staring at the ad of the great owl tucked in amongst the branches of the tree, in that moment his conversation with Tarragon flashed in his head and before he knew it his route had changed in the direction for the hospital.

———

Kashmere knew what cameras the team had their screen focused on, he also knew the routes that they had gone over using. Combining bits pieces he managed to assemble a route straight to the head office, were it not for the waves of nausea and the thumping in his chest he would’ve been quite proud of himself for doing so. The route he took was practically a cake walk, maybe he’d have to give the team the signal that it was far easier to infiltrate than they had originally thought.

He swallowed hard staring at the grand oak door before him, he could feel a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. The door struck had something deep within him that he couldn’t place his finger on, instead of dwelling on the feeling he grasped the gold handle and pushed the door open.

“We need to talk.” He stated the door shutting behind him, facing the old man sitting at a large desk with a beaming smile quite the opposite of the tense expression the young Faunus wore.

“I was worried for a moment you wouldn’t return.” Fir stood gesturing to one of the lush seats in the middle of the office. “May I offer you some tea before we start, chamomile is known to help ease nausea.”

[king-ofthe-ruckus]

Song prompt (if you're still doing them). Pacify Her by Melanie Martinez. I feel like it has such wayleska energy.

oh they’re always going :> like recently i haven’t been working very fast [ i had a very scatterbrained few weeks, so my writing has been worse than usual, but since you’re pretty frequent in my notifications i wanted to give you something extra extra good so hopefully this exceeds your expectation :> ] This ended up being longer than the intended 1500 [ word count: 2865 ] so pt the thing under the keep reading thing-y :>

Tired, blue boy walks my way

Holding a girls hand

That basic bitch leaves finally

Now I can take her man

Bruce wasn’t listening. It was clear he was distracted, index finger absently tracing over the lines of the blueprints. Yellow and blue. His finger would follow the blue, until it crossed over the yellow and followed that one, following the way it snaked through the prints. Big brown eyes so full of sorrow that it made Jeremiah’s heart ache. He wanted to know what could put such a frown on his tired blue boy’s face. He wasn’t meant to worry, that crease between his brows didn’t belong. But, the part that irked Jeremiah the most was his inability to read what caused it. Bruce hadn’t said anything, but Jeremiah wanted to know, needed to know, what had upset him. 

“Bruce?” Jeremiah prodded gently, setting aside his pencil that had been scratching out equations to make sure the building ability to properly balance the weight were correct. He didn’t respond. Just continuing to follow the line. Jeremiah waited a moment, perhaps Bruce was thinking about his work. Recognizing the expertise and complexity involved. He always loved it when Bruce saw his work. It was like Bruce saw him through it. But when he still didn’t respond Jeremiah stepped away from the smaller prototype of his plans for the rebuilt Gotham, his darling prince’s city, and gently moved the paper Bruce was touching causing his finger to slide off the line he was following and to glance up at Jeremiah. How deep into his own thoughts was he to not hear him? He didn’t need to be there anymore. Jeremiah was right here, speaking to him. He could feel his chest constrict as Bruce ignored him. His fingers tingling, wanting Bruce to pay attention to him. Only him. His words. His Eyes. HIM!

“Oh, yes?” This soft expression and with the way his eyes shone and face was flushed it was clear he was upset, enough to have been on the verge of crying. Jeremiah didn’t want him to be crying, he much preferred when Bruce’s thoughts were focused on him. He wouldn’t cause Bruce to cry like this. No, when Bruce cries because of Jeremiah they will be beautiful, a lovely pink flush and the tears to make his eyes sparkle. This crying was splotchy and messy, the tears flooding the lower lash line, so close to cascading over. Jeremiah wanted to fix this. 

“You’re distracted.” Jeremiah wasn’t sure how to approach him. Even after spending so much time together he continuously found himself at a loss for the correct way to approach certain topics, and Bruce’s sadness was one of those topics. He understood that when the anniversary of his parent’s death came upon them. Why Bruce was hesitant to be around others, not wanting to leave the manor so Jeremiah came to him. He understood why he was hesitant to be around others in times of emotional vulnerability, but he and Bruce weren’t just people. They were connected in a way no one else understood. That’s why when he had gone over that day Bruce had hugged him so tight as if he was trying to crawl his nails into his back to grasp at his soul. To bound them so deep that their souls merged. 

“My apologies, Miah.” Bruce put on a tense smile, “Selina hadn’t stayed for breakfast a week ago, and at the time I thought it was nothing, but she still hasn’t come back around.” Stayed for breakfast. Did she sleep there? Sleep with him?! He tried to repress the twist feeling of his stomach, ignoring how his bone ached to poke out of his skin like a porcupine defending itself. Based on Bruce’s sardonic smile, he could tell the way that Jeremiah wished to rip out both of their intestines and tie them together. Forever bound by him, nothing impure about their union. Only them. They were their own purity.

It was like once he opened his mouth to confide in Jeremiah about his worries he couldn’t stop. Like he had lost his usual control of his own voice. Every worry he had about Selina pouring out, about her health, and her inability to open up. Everything Jeremiah never wanted to hear he heard. 

 Someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours

But was he yours, if he wanted me so bad?

“He spoke of her too much. Selina this, Selina that! Can’t he see the work I put into this! Can’t he see?!” Jeremiah growled as he paced around the office. White hands twisting. The blue veins are too prominent with the strange new skin. He’s been so obvious with his affections previously, and now Bruce has the audacity to ignore him in exchange for some, some cat? He’s gone so far out of his way to include Bruce in his life. He spent countless nights planning the rebirth of his beloved city. He was the one putting in the work! He was the one who created a safe space for Bruce to be himself, not stop masquerading as some regular blue blood! Showing him that the outside world means nothing. He’s not the one leaving him behind, or turning his back on him at the first sign of trouble. Bruce needs to finally realize that he doesn’t love her, no matter what he may think. Their hearts are calling out to each other. They are the ones who are meant to be together, not her. That cat is merely a minor interference.

He needed Bruce to see who was actually there for him, maybe the best solution would be to cut that annoying little cat out of his life. Clearly, he needed some assistance. Bruce needn’t ever worry about her, never need to wonder what she is up to. She’ll be rotting. 

“Boss.” It was Ecco’s voice that pulled him from the red haze that overran his thoughts. The anger that boiled in his blood. He could practically feel the skin burning from the inside out sizzling and melting off his bones, muscle splitting open. He couldn’t afford to be blinded, however. The cool water that Ecco had brought in was an unwanted reminder of how much he had drunk after wishing Bruce a safe drive home. How the burning of his skin mirrored the burning of his throat. The warmth wasn’t just the anger, it was fueled by alcohol. He hadn’t even realized he drank as much as he had, simply pouring more whenever his glass got empty. From the look of the bottle he may have well have just poured one glass and drank straight from the bottle. 

“Go make me that frozen pizza in the freezer, please.” Jeremiah rubbed his eyes glancing around at his office that had been destroyed by his angry burst. Ecco had taken care of a drunken Jeremiah enough times to be aware of how the night would go. She wouldn’t be able to leave until maybe two am, if he slowed down on the drinking, or she would end up needing to stay later because he did continue drinking, and would then drunkenly tell her about Bruce and his plans, and she would need to entice him to leave the office so he wouldn’t mess up any of his plans, which has occurred before. To say hungover Jeremiah was more than anger would be an understatement. 

He needed to do something about this Selina situation. She needed to realize that she was of no real importance to Bruce, needed  to remind Bruce he needn’t worry himself over the lives of those beneath him. 

 She's getting on my nerves

You don't love her

Stop lying with those words

Jeremiah walked into the manor. It wasn’t the first time he had been here, but it has been the first time without explicit permission from Bruce. He hated how much he was working himself up; waiting in Bruce’s office for him to get back home, he and Selina had gone to lunch and longer Jeremiah waited the angrier he got. He sat legs crossed, eyes blankly staring at the bookshelves, but he couldn’t count anymore spines. Normally counting had kept his thoughts at bay, he could just numb his mind, but it didn’t work. Couldn’t work with the mental image of the two sharing hushed conversations, with her flirtatiously laying her hand on his arm-

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Selina. A sour taste spread across the back of his tongue at the thought of her name. Bruce’s name was a soothing balm usually, but not with the thoughts of him following Selina, it made his name feel like a too cold shower. His skin not knowing what to do and just panicking and sending his brain every pain signal to make it stop, but how could Jeremiah ever give up Bruce. He had an addiction. Something Jeremiah could never let go. The first one to see him as a separate force of his brother, but still see him as something that can be powerful. He wasn’t the weak twin in Bruce’s eyes. He was Jeremiah Valeska, the engineer, the man who could help Gotham. Jeremiah Valeska, his friend. The first time Bruce had mentioned that he thought of Jeremiah as a friend he was so taken aback his heart screamed in pain for a moment with how overjoyed he was - skipping a beat he realized later. 

“Oh, Jeremiah?” Bruce brought him from his thoughts. Turning from the bright red damaged spine that he had absently stared at for who knows how long Jeremiah noticed a small cat standing behind him, a furious look in her face. Jeremiah wouldn’t mind removing it. Tearing the muscle from the bone, presenting his bloody skull and lamenting about the value of life, on if his life truly had any value before Bruce entered. He hadn’t realized how stuck in his own mind he was until Bruce came. Until Bruce reminded him that living wasn’t surviving, but it was seizing the moments, doing things you enjoy because you enjoy them. He brought life back into his projects. His workroom slowly became cluttered with small ideas and mazes simply because he enjoyed making them, not just because he needed to do something with his hands. 

“Bruce, I’m sorry for having intruded; Alfred let me in.” He stood, buttoning his jacket. Bruce’s eyes latched onto the movement. The way Jeremiah’s head tilted higher than usual, how his eyes linger just to the left of his face. Something was wrong. Something had blocked the usual freedom in which they spoke, and the only change was Selina’s presence, but she had finally come inside and he thought they would finally be able to talk. While Jeremiah did lean towards a more formal approach when they were at the Manor, he had never avoided Bruce's eyes, he hadn’t put on the false bravado that Bruce had seen him use when on the call with contractors. 

“It’s not a problem,” Bruce dismissed before looking back at Selina, “Can you please inform Alfred that we would like some coffee and to include some creamer.” It was a small thing from Bruce to remember and that was exactly why it made Jeremiah’s skin crawl. He never wanted the coffee to not linger on the back of his tongue, but the creamer helped protect his teeth, and the better care of his teeth he took the less likely he would need to go to the dentist. Jerome had wanted to play dentist a few too many times when they were kids; sometimes he could still feel his finger in his mouth, stretching his lips into a strange smile, his lips cracking as the thick irony taste coated his tongue. 

“Has something happened?” He was so adorably concerned, but maybe that was concern for her. Maybe he thought Jeremiah would turn into Jerome, kill his precious little cat. Bruce was just concerned about her. HER! Why wouldn’t he acknowledge that she is unimportant? That he doesn’t need anyone besides him? He couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped.  Crawled its way out against his will, such a fragile sound revealing how broken his mind was becoming at the continuous thoughts of Selina trying to claw her way in. 

“What do you think, Bruce?” He strode closer, entering his space, but not quite able to bring himself to touch him. He wished he could, maybe that would put his mind at ease. It had been an internal war lasting a majority of the night to let Ecco talk him into speaking with Bruce before doing anything too extreme. Framing Selina for a few burglaries wasn’t too extreme by any means. The little cat burglar had gotten herself into worse trouble without his assistance, “Perhaps I’m not especially fond of how you’re worrying yourself over someone as insignificant as Selina Kyle.” 

“She’s my friend, Jeremiah” The warning tone in his voice hurt worse than the words. Why couldn’t Bruce understand that she wasn’t worth his energy?

“She treats you like nothing more than a credit card. A nice place to crash for a night.” A half step closer, eyes desperately searching for… something. For some proof the Bruce isn’t that oblivious to her ruthless manipulation. His hand hesitantly rose, fingertips gently running along his cheekbone. His eyes so focus on the slightest flush, unaware of how Bruce’s eyes squeezed close, before blinking open again. 

“Jeremiah, I sincerely hope that you’ll open up a little. She’s not using me.” He grabbed his hand, thumb pressing warningly against his palm. A smile curling on Jeremiah's lips as the poorly cloaked threat. The dangerous edge only made Jeremiah want to hold him more. Make him want to force Bruce to see that they are meant for each other, not him and Selina. Jeremiah was here. He was here. Why couldn’t Bruce wrap that pretty little head around that. 

It was a poorly thought out decision, Jeremiah will admit that. But he doesn’t regret it, not as Bruce pushed at his chest and tried to pull away, but only for a moment. It was just a moment of fighting, of push back, before he melted. Or maybe Jeremiah melted. Perhaps both had been weakened by the other, and the warmth provided of two hearts perfectly in sync finally having a way to connect. The way Bruce’s hand shifted to interlock their fingers. How his free hand that had been a fist at his side hesitantly rose to briefly curl into his hair, before being pulled out. 

Nothing could match the true fury of when the hand that had been on Bruce neck, that had pulled him into a viciously soft kiss, of teeth clashing and bodies melting, had been pulled off by the hand that should’ve been in his hair. All because he felt it absolutely impertinent to address the surprised gasp and clattering of dishware. Even as Bruce turned his head to look at the doorway where Selina stood, no doubt, Jeremiah didn’t step away, staying perfectly within Bruce’s personal bubble. He was entirely comfortable with the invasion. Glad to be able to show her who Bruce really belonged to. Who he was supposed to be with. Just as he would relish the idea of Bruce possessively entering his space to show whoever he deemed necessary to show that he was Bruce’s. HE would always welcome his invasion into his space. Just as he HAD welcomed Bruce’s invasion into his space through the budding relationship. 

“Selina!” Bruce’s hand tightened on Jeremiah’s. The thumb had been quick to move as the finger interlaced as they were always meant to be, started to rub anxious circles on his knuckle, “My apologies, we had, um” He sheepishly looked at the floor searching for a word, when Jeremiah helpfully supplied, “Got caught up in the heat of the moment, I’m sure you understand how it is.” 

“Oh, yes, of course.” Jeremiah could pick up on the sarcasm, easily dismissing it as her jealousy, rather than the pointed way she said it to Bruce, “But I guess you got this covered Bruce, I’ll leave you to it.” The irritation in Selina’s voice was clear as she walked off. See, Selina had never tried to take Bruce from Jeremiah, just as Bruce hadn’t harbored any romantic feelings for her. The whole reason he had been so worried about Selina is he wasn’t sure how to deal with the crush on the older architect, and she was meant to help him. Obviously, he hadn’t realized just how little assistance he had needed. As Selina stalked off towards the door, to silently make her way into the garage to take a car, a thing she had become quite accustomed to doing, and leaving them at the GCPD, Jeremiah had found a spot right below the corner of Bruce jaw the grew red quite quickly. He didn’t want anyone else making the foolish mistake of thinking they could take Bruce from him. Now that Bruce had given him an inch, he was going to take a mile. 

[nad-zeta]

Hiii! I’d like to request a matchup please :) I like to write, play games, listen to music, make people laugh, baking, be lazy, read, be alone sometimes, sleep late, and fail miserably at drawing. I like sweet things, spicy things, cats, and honesty. I dislike: people who lie or steal, when it’s hot outside, being outside in general, bitter things. For my personality, I’m really quiet when I first meet someone, but I get really talkative once we get to know each other. (1/2)

I’m book smart but I often lack common sense. I’m pretty naive. It’s easy to tell when I’m upset or disappointed. When nothing is upsetting me, I smile a lot and make a lot of jokes. Sometimes I like to bother people when I want attention. Staring and cheek poking will happen. (2/2) 

Hi, there dear! thank you for the request and for being so patient with my slow ass writing skills. I hope you are doing well, and I hope you enjoy it! 

So I Match you with………….. Ieyasu 

Honestly, the first time Ieyasu sees you, he rolls his eyes at the thought of having another Mitsunari around. You are another sweet little angel. For the first few days, you were pretty quiet, and you kept to yourself. You were forced to attend the war councils on Nobunaga’s request. You always would go a little early, to ensure a nice seat and settle in. Most of the other warlords would also come slightly earlier to chat with fellow warlords before the council proceeded. You were sitting there one day minding your business, watching Hideyoshi drag Masamune to his seat early for once, when you let a small joke slip out from under your breath. Nothing goes unheard by the one-eyed dragon. He broke out, laughing at your small joke. He encouraged you to open up a bit more by often making an effort to come early to chat with you. You made friends among the Oda forces really quickly due to your sweet personality and funny ass jokes. Like you are hilarious. You even became quick friends with Nobunaga because of this. The three of you would often sit together joking about anything and everything. This makes Yasu even more annoyed cause now, not only did he have to care for another Mitsunari, but he also had to deal with the headache of having another Masamune around. Great. Although TBH Hideyoshi was super thankful for you, cause since you started cracking jokes and chatting with everyone before the council, no one is ever really late anymore. 

One day while you were out in the market getting some suppliers for Nobunaga, you saw an old man handing out free candy. Who could pass up an opportunity on free candy! WHAT A BARGAIN! You slowly walked up to the man to kind of gauge what his deal was. “Seems legit,” you thought. You spoke to the man for a few minutes, and the next thing you know, you are knocked out. When you come to, you freak out a little cause both your wrists are tied behind your back, and all you can see is some younger men paying the old guy for his efforts.

You overheard them saying how they were going to charge Nobunaga a hefty price for your return. You were really starting to freak out now, cause you didn’t want to cause your new friends any trouble. And darn, you had the worst splitting headache. Honestly, at this point, you were fighting the urge to cry. Luckily for you, Ieyasu spotted you in the market while he was buying some veg for Wasabi. He saw you walk up to the man with the free candy and thought, “silly girl, if you get kidnaped, I’m not going to save you. Serves you right for coming from the same cabbage patch as Mitsunari” He watched you from the corner of his eyes chatting with the old man. He rolled his eyes “naïve as ever,” he thought. Before he knew it, you had disappeared. It happened so quick. He felt a cold shiver move through his spine. He ran to where he last saw you and overheard the young men’s conversation about ransoming you to Nobunaga. These guys made him sick, using the weak and innocent for their own gain. He drew his sword and, without a second thought, cut them down. He tied them up for Mitsuhide to find later. He walked into the backroom to find you tied up with a few tears streaming down your face. The second he cut you free, you were so relieved that you threw your arms around him and cried in his shoulder. He honestly didn’t know how to comfort you. “serves you right for being so naïve, didn’t you mom ever teach you never to take candy from strangers,” he said that in the gentlest sweet voice. He walked you back while gently holding your hand. He also made you some tea for your headache and treated the bump on your head. 

Its been a few days since the whole incident, and you decided you wanted to thank Ieyasu for saving and treating you. You knew he, like you, loved spicy foods, so you decided to make him some spice sweet buns. Chili flavored sweet buns. You spent the whole morning making them, even low key, impressing Masamune with your crazy excellent baking skills. Once you were happy with the results, you took the little package of sweet buns with you to Ieyasu’s manor. He greeted you in this contradictory way of his, which you took as a sign to come in and make yourself at home. You gave him the sweet buns and conveyed your thanks. He just sighed and offered to make some tea, so the two of you could share the sweet bun, you know, so he could make sure you didn’t poison them. The two of you sat for a few hours chatting and munching down on the sweet yet spicing buns. Your face lit up into the brightest smile when you saw the slight slither of a smile on Yasu’s lips when he tasted your creation. It made you even happier when you found out the prickly porcupine actually has a sense of humor. His laugh was so freaken cute. He was someone who laughed with their whole body. Shoulders shaking and arms clutching his stomach from the pain of laughing too much. The laugh itself was like more of a tiny chuckle barely audible.

Since that day, you decided to pester Ieyasu more often. Not that Yasu minded he had come to actually really enjoy your company. You never realized just how sweet and soft this boi was until you found an injured grey little kitten in the garden one day. You picked up the poor creature and ran all the way to Ieyasu manor, cause you knew he enjoyed studying medicine in his free time and would be able to help the cat. He gave the cat one look and refused to treat it. You were shook, “what do you mean no, you refuse.” He looked at you, then the cat and then back at you, rolled his eyes and gestured for you to come in “just so you know, if you tell Mitsunari about this I’m going to add you to my list.” He tended to the cat with the utmost care and gentleness. He spoke softly and sweetly to Kitty to help soothe the anxiety and fear. You could tell kitty knew Ieyasu well, and Yasu low key let it slip that he would feed kitty sometimes cause Mitsunari would forget. The two of you spent weeks nursing the little kitten back to health. You found spending time with Ieyasu to be refreshing. You loved his blunt honesty. Even if it’s often delivered in a contradictive way.

You love going out to teahouses with him. You love just sitting and chatting with him for hours. Although you have discovered that no one can match his pallet for spicy foods, not even you. One day you also burnt off your taste buds from accidentally swopping the bento’s masa had made for the two of you. You took one bite, and the next thing you knew, your mouth was on fire. It didn’t help that Yasu was sitting there watching you with shaking shoulders laughing at your misfortune. You had to chug down 2 liters of milk before the burning sensation left your mouth. All the while, Ieyasu was laughing at you. You decided you had enough, and you were going to get payback, so you decided that was the perfect moment for you to confess your feelings and kiss him to shut him up. When you pulled away, it was now your turn to laugh at his blood-red face. And so, your relationship with the cutie started

Ieyasu really loved you so so much! He loved how talkative you are, even though he would rather die than admit it. He could honestly sit for hours and hours just listening to you talk about anything and everything. He loved the soothing calm tones of your voice. He loves how lazy you are. Especially when you lay your head on his lap while he is working. You would just lay there reading your book. He will occasionally drop a small little butterfly kiss on your cheek, all while being super red. He also really enjoyed receiving little drawings from you whenever he would go out to war. He especially loved the little lopsided Wasabi you drew for him the one day. He low key tucked it away in his breast pocket under his armor so you would be close to his heart even during the battle. It was like his own little lucky charm

OOOh, and you definitely bother this porcupine boy all the freaken time for attention. He will be sitting writing up an important doc, and you will just continually poke his cheek, he would look up at you, and narrow his eyes “what,” keeps poking,  “Stop that,” still continue poking “if you don’t stop I’m not liable for the consequences.” Looks at him directly in the eyes with the most teasing smile and pokes him one more time. He literally reached over, grabbed one of his softest pillows, and gently hit you with it. Challenge accepted. The two of you spent the next hour engaged in a full-blown pillow fight. Afterward, you both collapsed on the futon giggling and breathless, he simply wrapped you in his arms and gave you the sweetest little kiss followed by a kiss on the top of your head “are you happy now,” you gave him your biggest brightest smile “yes very.” 

The two of you can often be found chilling in the shade of a tree (cause you don’t like the heat). Sharing a yummo picnic that Ieyasu attempted to make for the two of you. All while watching wasabi playing in the garden. You would rest your head on Ieyasu’s lap while he gently plays with your hair. Both of you would then proceed to cloud watch and point out all the weird shapes and figures that you could see!

Other potential matches...................... Masamune

Thanx so much for the ask, love! Soz, for making you wait so long! Hope ya enjoyed it

[toartemis]

Come on Love, Draw Your Swords - Part 6

Look at me, I’m posting this here the same day I posted on Ao3! You can read this chapter there if you’d like. 

Feel free to listen to Maester by Ramin Djawadi while reading this chapter, it sets the mood.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 & 4, Part 5.

Summary: 

Sing to me, Moonlight For you, dear, are honey-tongued I dream just for you.

Or: The one where Jude finds out she's pregnant, and Cardan begins collecting a thousand plants.

Word Count: 1,851

Warnings: None

Preview:  

And then the sun breaks over the land, warmth overflowing with it, and Jude gasps. It’s one of the most breathtaking things she’s ever seen.

-------

Three weeks until the baby is supposed to arrive, Cardan spends an entire day not-so-subtly suggesting that Jude visit his greenhouse. It surprises her when she realizes that she’s never been, because It’s something that’s become so important to him over the months. Though Jude’s felt incredibly bored as time passes and she gets farther along, able to do less and less of what she used to, she hasn’t given a thought to visiting in her increasing amount of free time.

 She supposes she’s placed it into a box, like she does with most things; she filed it away. Cardan’s greenhouse seemed off-limits, like a sacred place she wouldn’t dare step foot into so as not to disturb anything. Also, the plants are annoying and mean and very, very strange, apparently. 

 “One of my most recent flowers sprouted almonds,” Cardan says out of nowhere, leaning in to her ear as they sit next to each other during a gathering of their Council. Nothing important is being said at the moment, or at all, really. Jude decides to play along.

 “The way those horrible things grow, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

 Cardan leans back, affronted. “They’re not horrible. They’re unique.” The pride in his voice causes Jude to snort, which earns her a few stares. They settle after that, like children in a classroom. Jude suppresses a smile for the rest of the meeting.

 -------

 “I’m raising a Venus flytrap that developed the ability to laugh,” he says as Jude does her stretches around midnight, sheets of paper strewn before them. The emphasis he puts on the name of the plant makes her lips twitch up. 

 “Really?” she asks, voice indifferent. Her mind is foggy from hours of negotiations with the Court of Moths. They’re currently looking over written agreements for… something. Jude hasn’t been paying all that much attention. It’s harder to, lately. Her mind is understandably elsewhere. 

 “Indeed, I think it sounds rather like yours,” he drawls.

 Jude glares at him, trying to imagine it. A plant with her laugh? Is he making fun of her? Cardan’s gaze stays on the papers. His tail is out, curling near his leg. It’s like that most days now. 

 “What do you do to them?” 

 He ignores her. “I find it amusing when I hear it.” 

Jude huffs. He doesn’t seem to want to say anything else, his silence speaking for him. They get back to work.

 -------

 She’s reading in a newly cushioned nook in the corner of their bedroom, candles placed along shelves near her. It’s near moonset when Cardan whispers, “They’ve grown so beautifully.” 

 It takes Jude a moment to catch on to what he’s saying. She looks up from her book when she does, taking in his appearance. He’s dressed in a loose, cream-colored, silk shirt. It cuts low enough to expose his sternum. His plain trousers match with a long, thin coat that she sees him wear often when he wanders off to tend to his plants. “Have they? They used to annoy me. They were obnoxious.”

 Cardan’s brows furrow, and after a moment he says, “They were, yes.”

 He looks as if he will say more, but he stays silent, bare feet gliding silently over the floor to sprawl on a futon made of fine fabrics and plush pillows near the fireplace. Jude takes a few more minutes to read—this book is for her own pleasure, but not one of her usuals that focus on strategy and war. This one's about interpreting the stars—before she gets up. 

 She puts on a thin slip dress for bed, because soft, loose fabrics are much more comfortable for her to wear in her current state. Cardan’s eyes are on her as she takes her hair from its long, intricately woven braid, combing her fingers through swooping waves. When she walks into the main room of their chambers, he follows closely, stepping around her to make for a wardrobe full of coats and shoes. 

 Jude assumes he’s going to look after his plants when he pulls on a pair of smudged boots, the telltale sign of once being mud-clad, but are now wiped clean. She’s rifling through papers at a writing desk when he leaves, pulling one of the doors open to the hall. The guards stationed outside straighten to attention, and Cardan lingers before the in-between of the doorway. Jude stills, watching.

 “You’ve yet to visit with me,” he says, eyes front at hall, but it’s directed at Jude and she can hear his message loud and clear: Come with me this time.

 It’s what she’s been waiting for. 

 Jude only nods and makes to grab a velvet hooded cape from the wardrobe, slipping on her favorite pair of riding boots and waddling to stand beside him. Cardan hides his happiness in his eyes, his face a neutral mask. Jude can see it all the same.

 He laces their hands together and they walk past the guards further into the palace, then outside a Northern exit. They’re silent as they make their way, passing only a few fey and knights. The former all seem startled to see both of them, especially dressed the way they are. Jude couldn’t care less.

 Dawn is in the midst of breaking outside, soft orange and lilac spilling over the horizon beyond the hills. The grass is wet beside the stone path they walk on, its pleasant scent soothing to Jude. She’s seen the greenhouse before, so she isn’t fazed when they come upon it. It’s a strange building; small and made of gold and glass, dark wood paneling spread throughout. It has sloping crystal-paned roofs on either side of the main entrance. 

 They stop before the thin glass doors. Jude can make out the faint outlines of green from within, but not much else. She glances at Cardan in question and finds him looking uncertain. Then, he tilts his head up and pushes the doors open. 

 Jude notices the air first. It is thick, a strange mixture of soil and attractive aromas hitting her senses, and it’s almost as if she can taste it all. And then the sun breaks over the land, warmth overflowing with it, and Jude gasps. It’s one of the most breathtaking things she’s ever seen. 

 Greens, blues, whites, and more sit before her. Light refracts through crystalline walls that look like massive gems from her perspective inside. The room hums with a distinct magic.

 And all at once, Jude finally understands. Everything she can see, all of the swaying, docile things, they’re all proof. Maybe for her, maybe for himself, she doesn’t know, but they’re a testament nonetheless.

 Each one of these plants, once unremarkable from the mortal world, now twisted and strange after being in Cardan’s care, is thriving. The room itself is alive, magic flowing through each root, stem, and leaf of its occupants.

 “Do you like it?” Cardan asks, voice hesitant, interrupting her wonder. 

 “Cardan,” she says, “This is incredible.” Jude pads to the nearest bunch of flowers. They look delicate, all a soft blue color, but a sticky, clear goo coats them, dripping onto jade stones that sit on top of the soil. The substance flickers, like tiny shards of iridescent glass is sprinkled throughout it. The flowers bend towards her, not menacing in any way, but like a cat purring for a scratch on the head. 

 She moves further down, weaving through vined plants hanging in ceramic bowls from the bright ceiling. The appendages brush against her like fingers. One strokes through strands of her hair, alive and curious, and she laughs in amazement. Cardan follows at a distance.

 Jude stops in front of a cactus with so many spines it looks like a porcupine. Oak loves those creatures. The succulent flexes and relaxes as if breathing.

 “How?” she asks, an overwhelming ache in her chest. She wanders to a small tree that twists and swirls around itself, berries like teardrop candy hanging from its coiled branches. When she turns to face Cardan, she feels the urge to cry. 

 He stands some feet away, watching her, hands behind his back. Every living thing in sight reaches towards him, stretching and curling. It would be a disconcerting sight if not for the fact that she knows these plants are alive and it is out of clear affection. He has breathed life into every one of them, coaxed them into friendliness. This is what he’s been doing almost every day at this hour; he’s been out here working, learning, helping them grow. Jude’s throat feels tight at the thought.

 “I was… afraid,” he says. “I wanted something to challenge me. I wanted to make something without magic. So, I thought if I could raise a few plants from the mortal world, in a way I might have a chance at being a father.” He smiles bashfully, shaking his head. “It sounds strange, now.”

 Cardan reaches for one of the plants sprawling from the ceiling, its tiny leaves wrap around his finger like a child. There’s a fondness to his eyes when he looks at it. 

 “It ended up not being a few, as you’ve noticed. Though I was certain I was keeping them alive by mortal means, I couldn’t keep my magic from corrupting them. They began to act out. It upset me… I felt like I failed.” He pulls his hand away, grazing a sparkling bush near his waist. The foliage rumbles at him, startling Jude, but Cardan is unperturbed, as if he deals with it frequently.

 Oh. He does.

 “Then, after I moved them in here, I began to figure them all out. Each was a puzzle of sorts. Every one distinctly its own. I’ve grown to care for them, genuinely.” 

 He steps in front of her, hands by his sides. “They are for you. None will lash out any longer; in fact, they all have rather gentle personalities.”

 Jude’s heart feels close to bursting. She takes Cardan’s hands in hers and brings them to her belly, pressing them lightly.

 “You will be the most wonderful father,” she says, and she means it with everything she has. The smile he gives her is blinding, and Jude marvels at how beautiful he is. Truly, it leaves her breathless.

 “You like them,” he states, still grinning and looking around at his creations, because, yes, that is what they are. 

 “I love it all.” She leans up on her toes to kiss him, hands going to his shoulders. 

 They spend the early morning in the greenhouse, Cardan showing her around, introducing her to so many interesting and pretty things. She can’t keep her eyes off of him for more than a few seconds at a time. Her thoughts stray to what he will be like with their baby, how he will look with a child in his arms. One of her hands stays resting on her stomach during those hours, the other stays clasped in his.

 Jude realizes she’s happy. She couldn’t make the content smile leave her face even if she tried.

-------

Big oof. This chapter was my favorite of all of them, even though it was so short. I just love the idea of Cardan freaking out over having a kid and trying to raise plants as practice. It’s so dumb, but :’) 

Thank you all so much for reading even with absolutely 0 plot. There’s only one chapter left and it’ll close out the entire series, I’m excited!

[ikesenrambles]

For the Ikesen headcanons here's maybe a fun one? The warlords and driving. Can be a modern AU or one where they go to the future with MC. But like who's a really good driver and who's a really bad one? Who back seat drives? Which ones are speed demons and which ones consistently go 5 mph below the speed limit? Who gets the most tickets and who consistently gets out of tickets? Etc

Hey, thanks for sending in a request! I hope that this is okay. It definitely was fun to write~

Best to worst drivers: Sasuke, Ieyasu, Shingen, Kennyo, Hideyoshi, Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, Mitsunari, Kenshin, Masamune

N/A: Yukimura

Sasuke

He’s from the modern age, so naturally he’s more adept when it comes to driving

Expect smooth turns, precise maneuvers, and perfect parking

“Get in losers, we’re going shopping,” Sasuke says as he pulls up to pick up the rest of the group

“I will not be disrespected like this,” Kenshin mutters as he gets in the backseat

“Road work ahead? Ah, yeah, I sure hope it does?” Sasuke mumbles as you pass a construction sign. You stifle a giggle from the backseat while Shingen, Yukimura, and Kenshin exchange confused glances.

Ieyasu

He actually studied for his driving test, so he’s fairly decent

If you ever carpool with him, don’t expect him to stop at your actual house because he’s dropping you off at the nearest corner

Complains constantly about everyone else’s driving and constantly makes snide remarks from the backseat

“Are we there yet?”

Shingen

Splurges on a sleek sports car and drives top-down, smooth jams softly humming on the radio

Flirts at every stoplight

Constantly checks himself out in the rear view mirror

On the rare occasion that he is pulled over, he manages to charm his way out of a ticket

Kennyo

Careful driver, just a little under the speed limit knowing that reckless drivers like Masamune are on the road

A Buddhist charm hangs from the rear view mirror and he meditates for peace of mind and safety before every trip

Personally offended any time someone honks at him and spends hours reflecting back on that one instance

Probably cries in his car every now and then

Hideyoshi

Carpool king

10 mph under the speed limit as a safety precaution

“Everyone put on your seat belts–! I mean it, Masamune!”

Total backseat driver when it comes to everyone but Nobunaga

“Excuse me, ma’am? Are you aware that you were driving approximately 5 over the speed limit???” he scolds the car next to him at an intersection.

Nobunaga

Doesn’t need to learn how to drive as he has vassals to drive him around but decides that he wants to know how

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” someone yells at him as he’s practicing his driving.

“You dare to address your superior this way!” Nobunaga responds in a thunderous voice while Hideyoshi pats him on the arm and assures him that he is doing just fine (”I’ll have you know that Nobunaga-sama is the most capable driver there is!” Hideyoshi defends him)

Manages to pass the driving test but never gets to use his license (as if Hideyoshi would ever let him!!)

Secret compartment for konpeito that he hides from Hideyoshi

Mitsuhide

Adequate driver but he has no regard for the rules of the road or for common courtesy

Casually cuts people off in traffic

Steals your parking space

Never uses his turn signals

Leaves a ding in your car and drives away without so much as a note

Go ahead and criticize his driving; he’ll just roll his windows back up

He’s pulled over constantly, but like Shingen, he manages to manipulate his way out of getting ticketed

Mitsunari

Got his license out of pity

Kind of clueless when it comes to driving

He read the entire driver’s manual?? But it’s not making him any better??

Stops in the middle of the road to let a flock of baby ducks waddle by

Is constantly being honked at but doesn’t realize it

“I wonder what’s the commotion all about?”

Kenshin

Got into a fight with the driving instructor

Legend has it, that instructor quit his job at the DMV shortly affter meeting Kenshin

Only got his license because the DMV is tired of seeing him around and telling him that he needs to calm down

Prone to road rage

He finna wage war against anyone who cuts him off

Will passive aggressively tailgate you if you drive too slow

Races to catch up with you just to roll down his window and declare you his enemy

Masamune

How did he even get his license??

Someone vomits every time he drives 

One hand on the wheel and as fast as a madman

Runs three stoplights in a row and goes 50 in a 15 mph zone

“Sorry, I was driving so fast that I couldn’t read the speed limit”

Somehow is still always late??

“My car broke down,” he explains as he walks in an hour in late, food in hand

Yukimura

Failed his driving test then “forgot” to retake it until his permit expired

Rides shotgun in Sasuke’s car

Always has the aux cord, much to everyone else’s dismay

“Can we stop for food??”

Complains a surprising amount for a virgin who can’t drive

Thank you @spicy-porcupine​, @mythiica, and @pondlilies00 for helping me with Kennyo and Nobunaga~

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

Edinburgh to Boston - Chapter 5 - The Hotel

Good Evening all, Here is Chapter 5.  We finally make it to Boston. Yay! Do you think things go smoothly now? NAW not for these two!

I hope you enjoy reading this. Any comments, thoughts or questions are always welcomed.

My deepest thanks again to @curlsgetdemgurls and @jmoonrise for being my betas.

I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 5

The Hotel

The jet was pelted with ice crystals and blinding snow. The ice made pinging and clunking sounds as it struck the fuselage of the jet. Claire looked out the window trying to see any recognizable landmark as they approached Boston. It was impossible to see anything through the window at this point because of the snow and ice. High winds were buffeting the jet around as if it was a toy in the hands of a malevolent child tossing it around whilst making screeching, whistling, and booming sounds akin to a plane crashing.

Claire thought that if she ever had a child, she would never allow the child to play with a plane after this experience.

Her nerves were on edge. Claire began to chew her bottom lip, a nervous habit she did whenever she was worried. The jet made a sudden lurch and precipitously dropped. One hand grasped onto the armrest tightly making her knuckles turn white whilst the other hand sought out James.

James was doing his best to keep an outward appearance of calm. Claire knew this was strictly for her benefit. However, Claire could see that faint line forming in the space right between his eyebrows. That wrinkle showed up whenever James concentrated or when a situation became too intense.  She had become familiar this line from their work together in the operating room. It forms every time they reached a critical point during heart surgery.

James realized  Claire was watching him, and had noticed his telltale sign of concern written all over  his face. He carefully schooled his features effectively hiding his worry.

"Dinna fash, Beauchamp, it will be alright." he said with a genuine smile as he grasped her hand tightly.

"I'm glad you think so," Claire snarked with a hint of doubt in her voice.

Shudder, shake, vibrate. It felt like the jet was coming apart at the seams.

"James!" Claire exclaimed; her eyes wide with fright.

James saw how frightened Claire was. He continued holding her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in small comforting circles. He continued engaging her with story after story trying to focus her attention on something other than the chaos that was happening around them.

"James?" Claire asked looking up into his face earnestly.

"What is it Beauchamp?"

"James," Claire whispered. "In case the plane does, well you know, I ah, I... I just wanted you to know that, that, I love you."  The last three words were barely audible. Her golden whisky eyes sparkled with love for him. Claire put her head on his shoulder and said no more.

James heard her soft admission of love. To him, it was loud. It was louder than the racket an entire herd of trumpeting stampeding elephants could make trampling over the earth destroying everything in their wake.

She loves me, she loves me! Weel, better late than never, he reckoned.  At least he finally knew after all this time.

"I love ye too, Claire." A broad smile graced his beautiful face.  He placed his head on top of hers contented.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain. We are in descent to Logan. I have been told that the ground crew is working diligently to keep to the runway clear of ice, snow, and slush. Stay in your seats, keep your seat belts on and be ready for a bumpy ride. We will be landing shortly."

With her admission of love, the fear Claire felt disappeared leaving behind a feeling of tranquility. The feeling expanded when he confessed his own love for her. She knew everything would be alright, and if not, at least they were together like her parents were.

The landing gear engaged. The jet touched down with a bounce and a wobble. As predicted, the landing was very bumpy even on the longer runway necessary for this type of landing. At times, it almost felt like they were going to crash into the airport itself. Finally, the jet rolled to a halt. The passengers released a  collective sigh of relief as the nightmare was finally over.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at Logan Airport in Boston. We hope you enjoyed your flight. I need a stiff drink and a change of underwear. I am sure you all do too. Let’s all get cleaned up and I'll meet you in the bar. That is all."

The passengers all cheered for their Captain and agreed that a drink was definitely in order.

"Come on, Claire. Let's get out of here before we canna. We need to find a taxi, or we will be stuck in the airport all the night. We can have a drink when we get settled at the hotel," James said lifting his eyebrows at her. Claire nodded in agreement.

As they stood, each craned their necks looking for Harry and Maizie, concern for the elderly couple etched on their faces. Harry, now with his hat askew and Maizie with her hair jutting out much like a porcupine were otherwise none the worse for wear. Both James and Claire, in turn, surreptitiously waved good-bye to the older couple relieved that they appeared to be alright.

James and Claire collected their belongings as quickly as possible and deplaned without a moment's hesitation.

****************

A genial gentleman dressed in chauffeur attire was waiting at the arrival gate for them. He was carrying a portfolio of some type to which he was frequently referring.

He stepped forward asking in a polished Bostonian accent, "Dr. Beauchamp, Dr. Fraser?"

"Aye, we are Doctors Beauchamp and Fraser. Might I ask who ye are?"

"I am Padrick Donoghue, your chauffeur from the Georges X hotel. I was concerned that your flight might have been diverted due to the storm.  I am relieved that was not the case.  May I assist you with your luggage doctors? If you will follow me your car awaits."

James and Claire looked at each other.  This was not normal. Not at all. Georges X is a five-star  hotel known for its, ahem, discretion.  And very expensive.  Not the usual accommodations for physicians on a conference. Who made these reservations and was it really for them? But tonight, well tonight any port in a storm would do.

A luxury Lexus SUV was awaiting James and Claire.

Padrick entertained them with stories of Boston and what they could do with any spare time.

"Padrick, I am very familiar with the area.  I went to Harvard Medical School and did my residency here. Unfortunately, Dr. Fraser and I need to return to Scotland as soon as the conference is over. It is lovely to remember all the places I enjoyed going to whilst living here."

"Well, it's a home coming for you then Dr. Beauchamp."

"You could say so."

Claire’s mind drifted away from Padrick's idle chatter.  All she could think about was a hot bath and sleep. It had been a long, strange day.

*************

The drive to the hotel was a short distance from the airport and upon arrival Claire and James entered the grand lobby.  The lobby was tastefully done in contemporary furnishings of black, grey, camel, and white.  A welcoming fire was blazing in the lobby fireplace. A beautiful ornate glass elevator, the centerpiece of the lobby, would whisk guests away to their rooms.

"I'll check us in Beauchamp. Why don't ye make yerself comfortable while I take care of it?"

Claire walked over to examine the violet phalaenopsis orchids that decorated the lobby, when she suddenly heard James' voice raised in agitation. He was leaning over the desk, coming eye-to-eye with the clerk.  This was not good. Claire came over to see what was wrong. What she found was her normally good-natured partner turning a brilliant shade of red. He was speaking through clenched teeth with his eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Fraser, what's happened?" Claire queried.

James grabbed Claire by the upper arm and pulled her away from the desk.

"Beauchamp, there has been a mix-up. We are listed as doctors Beauchamp and Fraser, a husband and wife surgical team. There is only one room for us to share. And because of the storm, there isna another room available here or anywhere."

He was quite distressed at this. Truthfully, so was Claire. The prospect of sharing a room with James, while not an unpleasant idea, was not in her plans.  Right now all Claire wanted to do was get some sleep.

“Beauchamp, there is only one bed.  There are nay cots available.  There is nay couch in the room. This is different situation altogether and ye ken it. This is no’ going to work,” he replied angrily.

“Fraser, it will be alright.  We have shared the on-call room many nights while we were working. We can share a room tonight. Tomorrow we can see about making other arrangements.”

“Are ye daft woman?! What if one of your colleagues or friends from Boston sees ye here going into a room with a man that is no’ yer husband? What will they think?” James’ eyes narrowed to blue slits. He slowly turned his head, surveying the lobby for any possibility of a threat, real or imagined, to Claire’s virtue. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out and spray paint a scarlet letter A on Claire’s bosom, James returned his gaze to Claire.

James began to ruffle his fingers through his hair making it stand up on end, “Christ, Beauchamp, think of yer reputation woman! I’ll not have people thinking ye a wanton. I’ll nae risk it!” James was visibly distressed and hellbent on protecting Claire’s reputation and honor. He continued mumbling in Gàidhlig about tainting her reputation as a woman.

Claire gaped at him in shock.

“James,” she said very quietly through her teeth, “first of all, how would anyone know you are not my husband, hmm? Secondly, this is not the 18th century, for god’s sake; it’s the 21st century! No one will think anything of it. Besides, look,” she pointed to the desk where there was a sign that said, The Essence of Discretion. Perhaps the hotel was a trysting place for the rich and famous.

“I wouldn’t worry.”

“Aye, weel I dinna like it anyway. I’ll sleep down here, if ye dinna mind.”

“James,” Claire’s yellow tiger’s eyes narrowed glinting dangerously, “I am tired. In fact, I am exhausted. We had a horrible flight. We almost died. I want to take a bath, perhaps have a drink, and go to sleep, in that order. And I am not leaving you down here. Get your bag and get a move on. NOW.”

Claire turned on her heel, grabbed her suitcase, took the card key from the clerk, and marched toward the elevator.

“MOVE IT, Fraser,” she said without so much as a glance over her shoulder to see if he was following her.

James knew she was not to be trifled with. He had seen her in this type of mood before when a cardiac surgery fellow made a mistake whilst taking care of one of her patients.  Claire had swallowed the fellow whole, spit out his bones, and used them to pick her teeth. Claire could be formidable when necessary. She was a true force of nature like a hurricane or an earthquake. James loved her like that. This was not a meek and obedient woman. Claire was a true match for him; if she would let him get a word in edgewise.

He quickly grabbed his bag and followed behind her. He had another bit of bad news still to deliver.

While standing in the elevator, James cleared his throat and place his hands protectively over his bollocks.

“UMM, Beauchamp?”

“Yes, Fraser, what is it?” Claire asked tiredly.

“I have another thing to tell ye.”

“Yes?”

“Theycancelledtheconference.” James told her all in one breath. “The speakers couldna make it in from Texas because of the storm.”  He stood there waiting for the fallout.

Claire looked at him her lips twitching somewhere between exasperation and hysterics. Her eyes glazed over and she began to laugh hysterically.

“Could this trip get any worse?”

James was relieved that Claire was not going to have a melt down on the elevator.

“Weel, Beauchamp, let’s look at this way.  We could do with a bit a vacation, do ye no think? The clerk said that everything is all paid for. So maybe we should just try to enjoy it. Maybe ye could show me around Boston, hmm? My own personal tour guide” he said trying to wink at Claire. Instead, he looked like a large red sleepy owl blinking its eyes.

“We’ll see Fraser, we’ll see.”

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

AUTHOR REVEAL of the JATP ROUND 2: FLUFF FICS!

The Tropes:

Exes

Time Loop AU

Camp Counselors

Prank Wars

————

Okay, Campers, Rise and Shine! (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by nik_knows_nothing

Summary: When Reggie launches a particularly ill-advised prank war at HGC Ranch, Luke’s fully prepared to take it in stride.

When the days start looping, though, he begins to suspect that this might all be a little bit above his head.

In other words, he’s at least 78% sure that the time loop isn’t a direct result of Reggie’s pranks.

Maybe 77%.

Oh, well.

At least he’s not in it alone.

(The Groundhog Day meets Gravity Falls meets Summer Camp meets The Author’s Own Distaste For Prank Wars AU that no one asked for. Ever. At all.)

Starting To Forget (Just What Summer Ever Meant To You) (Not Rated) [Flynn x Carrie] by bi_magic

Summary: Last summer didn’t end on a positive note for Carrie Wilson - she and her girlfriend broke up on the last night of camp, and she’s been miserable since. But it seems that the universe is intent on having her fix that this summer. Even if that means she has to live through the same day over and over and over again until she does.

Creative B.S. Was No More, Was No Less (Look Around, You're Gonna Miss What You Found) (Rated T) [Alex x Luke, Flynn x Reggie] by @americanhoney913

Summary: The midnight men move again

Don’t know when

Best friends forever

In trouble again

Here’s to you, here’s to me

Over the rafters and we’re free

— Over the Rafters, Rick Schiffman

***

Alex and Luke go undercover on a mission to a summer camp in order to find a talisman that could endanger the camp and all the kids. While there, they bond with the kids and make peace with the fact that they broke up.

While Alex and Luke are away, Flynn accidentally fucks with time.

bitch but like romantically (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @screamin-amuseum

Summary: The dining hall’s exactly the same as it has been for two mornings now, and Flynn doesn’t hesitate to poke Willie twice on the nose and whisper “pancake” on her way past their seat.

His eyes widen and he whips his head around to follow them, excitement glimmering in their eyes.

“Really?” they blurt. Flynn rolls her eyes and nods.

~

or: flynn gets stuck in a time loop. {for troped jatp round 2}

down by the bay (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @sunsetcurbed

Summary: Over time, Camp Phantom has simply become known as a selective summer camp: one that took only the kids that Caleb saw promise in. And Caleb wasn’t exactly lying. He really did take only the ones he saw promise in, he simply looked for different traits than others might.

For example, say, hypothetically, a boy who could see the future. Or, hypothetically, a girl who could interact with ghosts. Or, hypothetically, a boy who could summon objects to him with a simple thought. Or, and this is completely hypothetical mind you, a boy who could manipulate time.

Those might be some traits that Caleb saw promise in. Just, like, as examples.

Time will tell (But only if you do it right) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @malecacidd

Summary: Carrie had been acting a little off for a week or so, but Flynn was pretty much known for seeing something in nothing, and that was probably what they were doing then. If something was going on, Carrie would tell her eventually.

OR

Who knew all it took was a little bit of miscommunication to mess up time itself?

and so it begins (Rated T) [Bobby x Reggie] by @comeonpeters

Summary: It’s the first day of their second week at Camp Carolling (they’re spending an entire month, and they’re getting paid to be there!) when Reggie gets a little lost in the woods. During this misadventure into the woods, he finds an egg shaped rock, an inhabited cabin that may or may not be riddled with signs, and something that might be magic. He probably doesn’t get paid enough to discover magic.

or, when they were thirteen years old, four boys met at camp carolling and eventually became a band that almost became something legendary. now, all four boys are coming back as counselors, three boys in one band and one boy in his own solo act.

so begins the reunion, though it doesn’t go how any of them imagine.

Porcupine Day (Rated T) [Bobby x Ray x Rose] by @wr0temyway0ut

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Trevor broke up with Ray and Rose and they’re… not fine, but managing. But when Trevor to adds insult to injury and buys the camp across the lake from the one they once owned together, the two camps become locked in a bitter rivalry. With neither side willing to set aside their pride and work out their issues, the universe decides to settle their fates itself.

Day After Day (After Day After Day) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by hufflebibin

Summary: When Alex met Willie just after their senior year of high school, they spent a wonderful three months dating before their relationship ended in a blaze of glory. Now, four years later, they meet again as counselors at a summer camp. The only problem? Alex keeps reliving their first day together. The day that Luke had declared “Prank Day.”

This is not how Alex pictured his summer going.

clocks move faster (it's all we're after) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke] by @willexxmercer

Summary: Julie likes it when her friends are happy, so when she realizes she’s stuck in a time loop, she uses her knowledge to make sure everything works out for everyone… except she conveniently forgets to factor herself (and Luke) into the mix.

Touch of Magic (Not Rated) [Alex x Luke] by @williexmercer

Summary: When everything stands in Luke and Alex’s way of getting to be with the people they love, they have to repeat the day over and over until they can get the happily ever after that they want.

the play's the thing (that goes wrong) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @madeline-kahn

Summary: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day for Macbeth, but not so for Alex and the production of Hamlet that he is directing and starring in. And while he’s stuck repeating the day of the performance over and over, mishaps of all kinds befall the cast.

anything, anything (for another run with you) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @aroacethetic-shitpost

Summary: The moment Alex steps foot in Camp Greenwood, he knows that this summer is a bad idea.

He knows it as soon as he sees tan skin, long hair, and a tie-dyed crop top at the check-in table.

Willie.

-

the camp counselor/exes/prank war/time loop fic of your dreams (unless you read all of the other troped round 2 fics lmao)

there’s a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @tonightthestarsalign

Summary: What comes next happens in slow motion. Luke’s foot catches on the last rung of the ladder. Julie watches as he stumbles a step forward, barely catching himself before falling on his face. The ladder clatters to the floor below. The trapdoor, no longer propped open by it, falls closed with a loud thunk, the lock clicking into place. They’re stuck.

“Luke!” she exclaims loudly. “Look what you did!” Julie drops to her knees in front of the trap door, desperately trying to fit her fingers between the wood and the stone to pry it open again. Of course it doesn’t work.

“What?” he snaps back. “I wouldn’t be up here in the first place if it weren’t for you trying to fuck us over.”

or: ex-best friends Luke and Julie, working as camp counselors at rivaling camps, find themselves stuck in a time loop

the daughter of apollo (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @the-most-beautiful-broom

Summary: (the JATP x Camp Half Blood AU that nobody asked for)

maybe the world isn't ending (maybe it's been postponed) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke] by @tmp-jatp

Summary: Alex runs his fingers through Willie’s hair. “I think it’s best to just leave them to their own prank war at this point. Let’s not forget that time Julie put hot sauce in the coffee pot and my mouth was on fire for an entire hour.”

“You’re exaggerating, Alex-”

“I most certainly am not,” Alex cuts Reggie off.

“Or how about the time Luke tried to put glitter in Julie’s bed,” Carrie joins in, “but got my bed instead? I can appreciate some glitter, but even I know when enough is enough.”

“Suffice it to say,” Willie finishes after they’ve passed around a dozen or so more memories of pranks from the summer, “we’re all done being your collateral damage. Whatever Julie has planned for you tomorrow, Luke, you’re on your own.”

-

It’s the last day of camp and Julie has one more prank planned for Luke. He just doesn’t know what it is.

Here We Go Again (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @kybee1497

Summary: Julie blinked as she stared at the place Euterpe had disappeared. What did that even mean? What journey? Old places and lost faces? What was she talking about? But before she could dwell on the questions swirling around in her mind, the sky full of stars began to move, shifting in place and descending until they were all around her. Julie felt her feet leave the ground as she rose up and up. One star in particular was burning brighter than the others, growing bigger in front of her.

It grew and grew, until the light was blinding and Julie had to throw a hand up against the harsh light. She closed her eyes as the light surrounded her and then she was falling. Falling down, down, down.

————

All the Winners can be found here.

We hope you enjoy these fics from our fabulous Fantoms! Make sure to leave kudos and comments to show them some love! And don’t forget, if you missed the initial writing deadline you can still submit your fics to our Non-Anon Collection at any time! Thank you all so much for participating this round! Now that winners and authors have been revealed feel free to post about your fics, create artwork for it, if you like, and don’t forget to tag us!

We hope you all will join us for Round 3! The prompt drops at Midnight tonight!

[theswiftarmy]

#14 - The Handoff: It’s Too Late To Say Sorry To Selena Gomez

“Hi Justin!”  Taylor called out singing his name into the early morning November air, her voice echoed through the empty amphitheater.  

She stood at the top of The Hollywood Bowl looking down towards the stage. “Did you come alone?” she eagerly inquired of him.  Her voice filled the amphitheater as though she were actually talking into a microphone.

           He looked up at her, the daylight still dim in the early hours of dawn—gripping the masters case, holding it tight against his chest, he yelled back up to her.

           “Yes!”  His voice echoed.

           “Good.”  She said in a cheerful voice.

           Two shadowy figures appeared beside Taylor.

           “YOU SAID JUST YOU AND ME!  You promised!”

           Swift shrugged.  “Is it too late to say sorry?”

           “You’re using my own song against me.”  He shouted back.

She let out a sigh.  “Well, they do say all is fair in love and war, right?”  The two shadowy figures beside her snickered.

           Justin froze on the stage; he could see the silhouettes of Swiftie Scouts swooping in on either side, each of them had a pair of AirPods in their ears and Apple Watches with the same screen across every wrist in sight, he could just barely make out the words: ‘Love Her’ was written on every watch.  Why is everyone wearing AirPods?  And why is every watch displaying the same thing? He thought for a moment before his thoughts were interrupted.  The Hollywood Bowl reverberated with a jarring array of sounds—Animals coming from the hills, running in from every direction: Various sub groups of Animals crept out of the shadows, a prowl of jaguars to the left, a pack of wolves to the right, a prickle of porcupines.  He stood on the stage as Taylor had instructed him to do in the last text message she sent, moments before he left Oak Felder’s studio after swiping the masters from his sleeping crew.  But now he was frozen with fear, all he could do is watch as Taylor and the unknown figures along side her descended the stairs towards the stage.  As they approached, a ray of daylight flashed across the face of one of the shadowy figures standing next to Taylor.  The woman bared her teeth back at him… Kesha!

           The Taylor Swift trio walked towards the stage descending down the right side of the bowl, they strolled down a staircase music fans have used so many times to find their way to their assigned seats.  They passed by the now empty seats coming closer and closer to the stage.  Justin caught a better glimpse of the other figure, he immediately recognized Taylor’s second accomplice.  Katy Perry to her left, and Kesha to her right with Taylor in the middle.  All three were armed with Sonic Blast Attack devices, ready for a fight.  The devices were set to full power.  One blast would hook Justin to the beat locking his feet should he try to retreat.  The devices were compact in size, reminiscent of the old Talk Boy toy from the original Home Alone movie, but more modern looking, silver, matching the Easter egg masters case.  Fight fire with fire, or in this case, silver with silver.

           “This doesn’t have to be difficult Justin.” Taylor stared him down—her eyes flashing Teen Wolf RED for a moment, her gaze catching his own, cutting like daggers into Justin, beaming fiercely and ferociously the FEARLESS leader forced even more fear into the far reaches of his mind.

           Sara Swift, Taylor’s ace attorney walked in from the side of the amphitheater accompanying the KatyCat Kitty Cat Guard carrying Justin’s prized Savannah cats, Sushi and Tuna, in extraordinarily decked out inordinate clear see through cat cages—several Swiftie Soldiers followed behind them, also armed with attack devices.  The cats were wearing cat collars that read, “This Kitty is Team Swiftie”.  The cats had their fur dyed, one had “Kitty Purry 4 Life” in pastel colors all across the fur and the other displayed “KISS ME I’M A KESHA ANIMAL” in bold, the neon fur dyed special to flash in the sunlight.  The Kesha cat sparkled, glittery.

           “SUSHI!  TUNA!  What did you do to them!”  Justin cried out.

           “We, just…. Jazzed them up a bit.”  Kesha said throwing her hands up—jazz hands to the sky.

           “Yeah.  A little bit of that KatyCat flair in their kitty cat hair.”  Katy Perry pointed to her own hair done up to match.

           Justin walked towards the edge of the stage but backed to his center spot as more Swiftie soldiers poured into the amphitheater.

           “You can’t just go around stealing cats!”  Justin felt a wave of rage come over him.  “You tricked me, Taylor!”

           “This is no trick, I have what you desire, and you have… my fire.” She smirked then bit her lower lip.

Sara spoke from her spot to the side, “There are two classic blunders Justin, the first is never get involved in a music war, and the second is never go against a Swiftie when Taylor Swift’s masters are on the line. Ahahahahhha.“

           He pulled the case closer to his chest.  This was a mistake, he realized—A huge mistake.  He felt dizzy. His heart thudding inside his chest; his heart beat against the master’s case like a drum.  Taylor, the drummer… Now we follow her beat.  He was surrounded.

           “Justin.”  Taylor’s hair waved in the wind.  The first rays of daylight shot through the air.  She dialed in the Sonic Blaster and pointed the speaker in his direction.  “Don’t do anything you might regret.”

           Suddenly Selena Gomez stepped out onto the stage.

           “This isn’t a fair fight!”  Justin declared.  The word ‘fight’ echoed several times, scaring a dozen birds forcing them to take flight.

           “Fair?”  Selena walked towards him.  She laughed, cracking a crooked smile.  She shook her head back and forth.  “Fair, Justin?”  She looked up at Taylor then back at him.

           She stopped in front of him, and then began to circle around him.  “You promised the world, and I fell for it…”  She looked away, and then back at him—into his eyes.  “I put you first and you adored it…”  He followed her eyes turning his back to Taylor, Katy and Kesha.

           The Taylor Trio reached the stage and climbed up on to it, moving closer in to stand behind Justin.  Animals rushed from the hills to fill in the circle.  There was now no way out.

“Set fires to my forest… And you let it burn…” Selena continued, “Sang off-key in my chorus… 'Cause it wasn't yours…”

           She stared Justin down.  He tried to reply “Selena… I…” She placed her index finger across his lips.  “I saw the signs and I ignored it… Rose-colored glasses all distorted… Set fire to my purpose…”  She paused and pulled him closer, she whispered in his ear, “And I let it burn…”

Justin’s grip on Taylor’s masters loosened.  She moved back some, moved away from his ear and leaned in close to his face, their noses nearly touching

“You got off on the hurtin'… When it wasn't yours, yeah… We'd always go into it blindly… I needed to lose you to find me…”

           Selena stopped suddenly, halting the direction of her waltzing.  She pulled Justin in the reverse direction.

“This dance, it was killing me softly…. I needed to hate you to love me, yeah…. To love, love, yeah… To love, love, yeah…. To love, yeah… I needed to lose you to love me, yeah… To love, love, yeah…. To love, love, yeah…. To love, yeah…. I needed to lose you to love me….”

           She grabbed his left arm gently prying it away from the shiny Swift Easter egg masters case.  The morning sun danced off it creating a disco ball effect on the Hollywood Bowl stage.  He clung to it with his other arm, the case slipping ever so slightly as he struggled to keep hold.  “I gave my all and they all know it… Then you tore me down and now it's showing…”

           Selena danced around him, slipping behind Justin she leaned in singing the words into one ear, then the other.  Chills ran down his spine and the case slipped falling a few inches, he caught it and regained composure.

“In two months, you replaced us…. Like it was easy…. Made me think I deserved it…  In the thick of healing, yeah…. We'd always go into it blindly… I needed to lose you to find me… This dance, it was killing me softly…”  She wrapped around him running her hands down his shoulders close enough to breath into the back of his neck, “I needed to hate you to love me, yeah…. To love, love, yeah…. To love, love, yeah… To love, yeah… I needed to lose you to love me, yeah…. To love, love, yeah…. To love, love, yeah.”

She bit her lower lip just as Taylor had.  Then spun him around several times.

“To love, yeah…. I needed to lose you to love me…. You promised the world and I fell for it…. I put you first and you adored it…. Set FIRES to my forest…. And you let it BURN…. Sang off-key in my chorus…. To love, love, yeah…. To love, love, yeah….To love, yeah…. I needed to HATE you to LOVE me, yeah…. To love, love, yeah…. To love, love, yeah…. To love, yeah….I needed to lose YOU to love ME…”

Selena put her hand on his right hand still holding the silver case.

“To love, love, yeah… To love, love, yeah…”  She spun Justin around to face her—willing him into a waltz, and then looked over at Taylor standing just behind Justin.  “To love, yeah…”  She returned her gaze to Justin, he tried to look away, but couldn’t.  She continued in song and dance…

And now the chapter is closed and done

To love, love, yeah

To love, love, yeah

To love, yeah

And now it's goodbye, it's goodbye for us

Selena kept her eyes fixed on Justin’s, the case slipped from his grip and into her hands.  She lowered the case setting it on the ground, and kicked it across; Taylor Swiftly reached out grabbing the case.

           Kesha clapped loudly and Katy joined in.  Then Selena backed away slowly.  “You’ve been Swifted!”  Kesha proclaimed.

           “Swish swish!”  Katy yelled out.  “You WISH you had the upper hand in this music war, looks like you don’t have a leg to stand on now.”

           Taylor held the masters case feeling the fire.  She breathed in deep looking squarely at Justin, her head held high.  Sara walked over to join them; she leaned in towards Taylor but spoke loud enough for Justin to hear.  “As your attorney, I advise you to let him have it.”  Taylor glanced at Sara and back to Justin.

           Taylor made eye contact with Kesha and nodded.  Kesha howled a wolf noise, sounding off her Animals who answered her back in a chorus of Animal noises.  Kesha shouted to Justin, “You’re gonna listen to our music and like it!  Because you won’t have a choice,” She played with one of the rings on her fingers, she leered at Justin slyly, fox like, “Ladies, it’s time to raise some hell!”

“Selena, do you want to do the honors?”  Taylor said

Animals rushed in and grab his arms and legs.

“Let go of me!”  Justin wailed.  He struggled to no avail.  “You gave me your honor!  Remember?  You said, Swiftie Scout’s honor!  You have your masters!  What more do you want?!  WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?”

“Swiftie Scout’s honor only applies to fellow Swifties.”  Taylor said, wryly,  “If you joined my Swift Army, you would be safe from the Swifties.”

“I will never join!  I will always stay true to my Beliebers!”

“Okay, then you will watch as every one of your precious Beliebers slowly becomes a Swiftie and stands along side ME!—until it’s my Army, against you and your friends.”

Justin struggled against the Animals holding on to him.  A Swiftie soldier brought out a smaller silver case with a symbol on it.  It looked like the masters case, but miniature, on the front, instead of an Easter Egg symbol is contained a worm and an ear etched on it, the worm was sticking out of the ear, wiggling its way inside.  “See, not only do I want these recordings—which I now have—I want the legal rights to my whole catalogue.  I want it all, signed over to ME!—Taylor Swift.”  She paused, before continuing, “So, you send that message back to your friend Scooter.  And, as incentive for you to cooperate, we have a small gift for you.  When I get what I want, we’ll free you.  Until then…”

Taylor nodded at Selena.  Selena walked to the earworm case and put her hand on it, then she looked over her shoulder at Justin.

“What is that?”  Justin asked, shaking.

The five women—Taylor, Selena, Katy, Kesha, and Sara—stood their ground, grandly, not saying a word.

A Swiftie unlocked the case and headphones were lifted from soft foam inside.  The Swiftie handed the headphones to Selena.

She took the headphones, then turned and walked over to Justin.  He could hear the music coming from the headphones as she moved closer, placing the headphones over his head.  She held the headphones against his ears, letting the sound flood in…

To love, love, yeah

To love, love, yeah

To love, yeah

And now it's goodbye, it's goodbye for us

Justin fought for a few seconds before gazing at Gomez, his breathing slowed, calm, and relaxed.  Selena pulled one of the over ear Beats by Dr. Dre headphone earpieces off his ear, she whispered into his ear, “You enjoy this earworm Justin—A little piece of me you’ll never get out of your head.”

She grabbed his hand and held it.

“Goodbye.”  She said softly.

She placed the headphones over his ears once again; she turned her back to him and walked off the stage.

Justin felt limp, sleepy.  This wasn’t anything like he felt just hours before at Oak Felder’s Spaceship studio while they listened to the pure Porter Pyramid sound.  The Animals lowered him slowly to the ground as he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he was alone on the stage his cats meowing in cages beside him.  Selena’s voice in his head, her song on repeat—as soon as it ended, it began again and again, a never-ending earworm loop.  He tried to remove the headphones, but there were no headphones to remove—just her song playing inside his head… over and over again.

I needed to lose you to love me…

@taylorswift @justinbieber

[quentinsquill]

“Eliot Waugh and the Case of the Cocooned Conjurers”: Chapter 3

Chapter three is below, or you can read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218352/chapters/40982306

CHAPTER THREE: Eliot Waugh

 One of the most interesting aspects of being a magician in a time where so many immigrants were pouring into New York City was the old beliefs and superstitions they brought with them from their homelands. They came to Margo’s sundries shop every day for herbs to cure everything from bunions to headaches to expelling evil spirits from their hovels. Newly-displaced Brits seemed to be the most common of the latter, with their Victorian beliefs and strange preoccupation of the dead. As I lingered at the sundries counter and observed my new companion, Dr. Coldwater, examine Margo’s wares, a non-magical woman in her thirties begged her to help contact the soul of her six-year-old son who had died of smallpox the year before, while the family still lived in London.

 “He never did anyone no harm,” the mother was sobbing as she showed Margo a silver gelatin memento mori print of a young boy dressed in his best and laid out on a tatty-looking sofa, flowers tucked in one dead fist, his cheeks tinted pink by the photographer. “It weren’t fair he died, and just to hear his sweet voice once more would ease this awful grief!”

 My good friend was mostly unmoved and gave the women a look that I knew meant she was about to dish out a healthy dose of honesty. Whether this was to Margo’s credit I could never deice—after all, she could have made a fortune off people’s ignorance.

 “Death, madame, does not discriminate between the innocent and the wicked. It takes both equally. It is unfortunate but true.” She reached out and closed the tin cover of the woman’s daguerreotype, but without harshness. “Also, I am not a medium, and I’ll tell you that those who tell you they can reach beyond that veil are slinging more dung than those who clean up after the carriages in the street.” She moved from behind the counter as the woman’s eyes pooled with fresh tears. “However, I do have some herbs you can brew into a lovely, sleepy tea and simmer in hot water for the kitchen or bedroom. The scents will help ease your mind, if only for a while.” She led her customer toward the back of the shop as Dr. Coldwater made his way back to my side.

 “Do you think non-magical adepts would believe it if we told them that contacting the dead is no easier for us than it is for them?” He asked quietly, and I pulled my cigarette case from the inner pocket of my vest.

 “Doubtful. It has been my experience, in fact, that magical adept or no, people believe what they choose to.” I offered him the case, but the somber young healer shook his head.

 “No thank you. But the devil of it is, some experienced healers could heal smallpox and other diseases that plague children, but our laws forbid us from interfering with the progression of science.”

 “Would you have cured that woman’s child, had you been there?” I asked. After a moment, the doctor shook his head.

“Healing isn’t as simple as some in our community think it is, Mr. Waugh. Even when a spell cures an illness, there is always a price to pay.” I watched as a tremor rippled through his lean shoulders; the right one had a slight dip a few inches away from where it met the arm, something few likely noticed. He noticed me observing him though, and lifted his chin with an angry jerk.

 “It’s very rude to stare,” He said, and I lit my cigarette.

 “Odd that you’re so defensive about something most would carry as a sign of honor and service.”

 The doctor absolutely bristled.

 “And what did you do in the war, sir?” His delivery was like that of a porcupine giving a snoutful of quills to an overly-curious hound.

 “I was a spy for the aside of white magic. The good guys, if you will.”

 Dr. Coldwater’s expression shifted from outrage to guarded curiosity.

 “You don’t strike me as particularly inconspicuous. I noticed you right away when I came to inspect that body last night.”

 “I’m flattered,” I replied, and the doctor’s smooth cheeks went pink—a sight I found unusually intriguing. He was surely not yet thirty, although his silver-white hair and cane likely caused people to dismiss him as an elderly man.

 “I simply meant—” He gestured toward me. “You’re quite tall and might be noticed easily.”

 “I have a means of concealing myself, depending on the information I want to gather. Margo and I both specialize in physical magic and she’s especially talented with manipulating spell ingredients.” I blew out a plume of smoke. “We met during the war, and I find her to be loyal and intelligent—much more so than many of her gender.”

 Margo came back to us then, having sent her customer off with a soothing tea and some lavender smudge.

 “Can I just say I am so glad my grandparents came here before my parents were born so I don’t have all these appalling superstitions these immigrants have?”

 “It’s not like they can help what they’re taught,” Dr. Coldwater spoke up, and Margo frowned.

 “If I felt that way, I wouldn’t be helping any of them. It just amazes me what they believe!” She glanced at her jeweled watch. “It’s nearly and afternoon tea is one English tradition I can appreciate. If you want to wash up, Dr. Coldwater, I have a small basin and pitcher in a back room to your left.”

 “Thank you.” He headed toward the rear of the store as Margo turned the closed side of her door sign toward the street.

 “So, what do you think of him?” She asked, and I lifted a shoulder.

 “He’s an odd sort of fellow—empathetic, surely, and rather reticent about his time in the war.”

 “You saw some horrors yourself,” Margo pointed out, and I nodded. Usually, a few shots of strong scotch or a dose of laudanum were enough to put the ghosts to rest—at least temporarily. However, judging by Dr. Coldwater’s appearance, he’d seen more battles than I had during my time as a spy.

 “I saw someone who looked like him once,” Margo said, lowering her voice. “When the medical corps ordered some spell ingredients for their hospital in Brooklyn.”

 I passed her my cigarette case and she helped herself to a roll of silk-cut French tobacco, lighting it with a swift hand motion.

 “It was only a few days after we’d declared victory,” she continued, a plume of smoke escaping from between her lips, which were painted rose pink. “So the hospital was full. I delivered the ingredients to the head nurse of the recovery ward, and—” Here, she lowered her voice further. “And in one of the beds was a young man with that same kind of hair. Not really white, but more silver, and he was missing both his eyes. Not like they’d been put out by a weapon because that would have still left the sockets. They were gone completely, like they’d been erased. I never saw anything like that before. The nurse told me he’d been in a battle in the fairy realm and he’d managed to make it back, but it had cost him his eyes and several internal organs. When I went back to make the next delivery, there was another magician in that bed. The one who’d been fairy-touched had died.”

 “I don’t doubt your account, Margo. But the fairy-touched rarely survive a return from that realm, and those who do usually do not live long to tell what they saw there.”

 “I know. But I swear, Dr. Coldwater has the look of that man I saw!”

 The man in question emerged from the back room then, looking refreshed. I trained my eyes on him with purpose as he approached. Under the light from the store’s three chandeliers, I saw that his hair was indeed silver and not the chalky white of premature age, and that while a few lines around his eyes told a tale of broken sleep, there were no other signs the war had caused him to age before his time.

 Could Margo be right? I asked myself. Had this odd little fellow with empathy for both magical and non-magical people survived a battle in the fabled and, by all accounts, terrifying fairy realm? It didn’t seem possible, yet here he was, moving along doggedly with his cane. I felt a smile grow on my lips: what a stubborn, determined figure he cut!

 “Shall we take some tea upstairs?” I asked as he reached us. “We have a long evening ahead of us, and Inspector Fogg will expect us not to tarry.”

[turnupswritessometimes]

Banana Fish - AshEiji - Ch3

Title: Skipping Stones

Part: 3/?

Word Count: 2282

Description: A collection of oneshots filling in some scenes that probably didn't happen in between episodes/scenes, but that I like to think did because these boys need to talk to each other.

Edit: This fic is also available on A03 under the same name. I would post a direct link but Tumblr then doesn’t put the post in searches so..

3

Ash was starting to get restless. He felt like a lion holed up in a cage too small for it. The novelty of riding around in a van like Scooby Doo was starting to grow thin – he was sick of service station food, sick of sleeping with two snoring lumps every night and sick of having nothing to do but stare at the world going by them. America seemed never-ending. How could they be sure they weren’t just driving around and around the globe, never reaching their destination?

It was those thoughts that were driving him inside. They were hard to shake. They needed him to go for a walk and clear his head to shake – to look at different street signs and license plate numbers to reassure himself that they had actually left New York. The problem was, he was being kept inside. It was unlikely he’d be recognised, especially so far from Manhattan, but, as Max kept reminding him – he had killed a man and got bailed out of jail. People would still be looking for him. The police were only third or fourth down that list.

Most of the time, he could deal with it. Eiji would bring a brown paper bag into the back of the truck and sit cross legged with him, worrying that he’d picked the wrong sauce or something else stupid. Most of the time, Shorter kept them company.

Then there was that one early morning walk with Eiji. Ash wasn’t entirely sure that it happened. The colours of that morning seemed to bright – too painted watercolour – to be real. But if he concentrated hard enough, he could still remember Eiji leaning against him, his dark, fluffy hair tickling Ash’s cheek and his mouth grinning into Ash’s hoodie. His imagination wasn’t good enough to conjure that up.

Eiji was asleep now. Mixed up in a bundle of jumpers and hoodies and a nylon sleeping bag they had picked up at the first homewear store they could find. Ash hated the feel of them, but they were decent protection against the bitingly cold nights.

He had thought Shorter was too – thought he had simply dropped off to sleep sitting up against the back of the truck. But then a voice came to him through the dark.

“I've seen the way you look at him,” Shorter was just a black shape in the black night. A shadow more than a boy.

“What?” Ash forced himself to look away from the bundle of blankets and out the back of the truck instead. There were plenty of stars, but they were just tiny pinpricks in the night sky.

“Eiji,” Shorter’s voice was low, determined not to wake him. “You like him, right?”

He could have feigned ignorance. Said, yeah, he liked him, they were mates. But the insinuation was too obvious in Shorter’s tone. It made his gut squirm.

“No,” he said, quickly and sharply. “No. I'm not-“

“Bent?”

“No.”

There was a pause. Ash had used the voice he used to get people to listen to him. The one that made boys twice the width of him tremble. Of course, Shorter was different. Shorter had stopped being scared of Ash long ago. It didn’t defer him for long.

“It's okay-“

“I'm not, okay?” Ash snapped again. He hated that patronising tone. He had no parents to have this conversation with – he shouldn’t have to have this conversation. “I'm not like Papa Dino-“ he hated the way it still rolled from his tongue like clockwork. “- or Marvin. I'm not.”

“There's nothing wrong with it,” Shorter was dancing around the word. That was fine, Ash was too.

“You used to call Marvin a fag all the time. You hated him.” Ash’s voice cracked on ‘hated’ and he cleared it. He had thought he had ironed out his voice cracking like that a long time ago.

"Not because he was gay," he'd finally said it and the word was lighter than it should be in the air. "Because he was a paedo and a rapist. They both are. The three are separate from each other. Being gay is the only thing that's not - wrong."

Another car drove into the petrol station, it's headlights like search lights. The white lit up Shorter's face for a moment. He was still wearing those sunglasses. His face was unreadable.

Ash kept his silence, watching the man stepping up to the gas pump. Where was he going, at this time of night? The question wasn't a satisfactory distraction.

“So - do you?" Like Eiji?

Ash didn't want to admit that he didn't know. He wasn't really sure what attraction was like. He wasn't sure how he was meant to feel - how he was even meant to know if he liked someone.

He had liked kissing Eiji. He liked flirting with Eiji, now more than ever because instead of turning him beetroot, it made him grin. His eyes would glance down and then up at Ash as though he was checking that he was still there. Ash could watch that all day.

Was that liking him?

He couldn't ask Shorter that. It was better to deflect the question.

"It doesn't matter. He'll be going back to Japan soon," the car drove away, taking it's otherworldly light with it. Ash was glad, it meant that Shorter couldn't see him hugging his knees to his chest.

"A long distance relationship would probably be safer for him," Shorter's voice was soft and Ash felt a pang of - he didn't know what - jealousy? He was the one who worried about Eiji. No one else.

"Stop chatting shit, Shorter."

Shorter laughed, a sound quickly muffled when Eiji shuffled.

"Seriously - if Ash Lynx can't get a guy to stay with him then where's the hope for the rest of us?"

"You've been in this truck too long," Ash said. He faked a yawn, pushing himself onto the floor. "You're delirious."

"You say delirious, I say I've had my third eye opened. I can see things now, Ash. I can read your mind."

"Right now my mind's telling you to piss off."

Another laugh. He stayed still, not in a comfortable position, but one he could hold. It was barely five minutes later when he heard Shorter beginning to snore.

His head was pillowed on his elbow and he could see the sky. He wished he had the knack to read constellations. He wondered if Eiji could. He wondered about Eiji a lot. There was so much he didn't know about him. So much he couldn’t know about him – because the more he knew about Eiji the more attached he would get.

Ash couldn’t afford to get attached to Eiji. Especially not after Skip. It had proved it. Ash Lynx could not afford to get close to anyone, it only put them in danger. He hadn’t even known Eiji as long as he’d known Skip – he shouldn’t care this much about some Japanese boy.

Some Japanese boy with ridiculously soft hair and stupidly sparkly eyes.

Oh shit.

Oh shit – was that attraction?

The thought made Ash’s heart stop. He lay there in the dark, his elbow throbbing underneath him.

In two seconds, he was scrambling to his feet and clambering over the back of the truck. The ground slipped beneath him in his haste and he almost fell headlong.

He hammered his fists on the driver’s side of the window – right against where Max’s ear was slumped against the glass.

The man jolted upright, his hand hovering over the wheel, before he saw Ash’s blonde hair, like a candle in the darkness. He blinked apart sleep-heavy eyes, rolling the window down.

“Ash? What’s wrong?” he was frowning, his hair sticking up like a porcupine’s quills. Why did everyone think there was something wrong? Why couldn’t he just want a chat with people? So what if it was the middle of the night?

“Can we talk?” Ash swallowed. He was suddenly finding it hard to look Max in the eye. His chest was tight.

“It’s – what – two in the morning?” Max frowned at the dash. Ibe groaned next to him, turning further away from both of them.

Ash shrugged. “It’s important?”

“Mm?” Max’s head tilted to one side.

“Not here?”

Max nodded his head again and again, looking like a bobble headed doll. Ash wondered for a moment if he’d fallen asleep, but then he was opening the car door and pulling on a pair of battered boots. He stumbled down from the truck.

They headed over to one of the pumps, leaning against it. They were all advertising a space to put adverts.

“What’s wrong?” Max fished in his pockets, coming back with a cigarette between his fingers. “Nightmares?”

Ash shook his head, watching the lighter spark and flicker to life. “I have a problem.”

“You think we’re being tracked or something?”

It was all they thought about. Wasn’t anyone else thinking of anything else?

“I think-“ Ash couldn’t believe he was saying it. He fiddled with the gas pump behind him. “I think I might fancy Eiji.”

Max took a long drag on the cigarette, puffing it out in a long cloud. “And that’s – what? News?”

Ash’s middle finger twitched of its own accord. He shoved it into his pocket, taking a breath. Why was this so hard to talk about?

“To me. I – I didn’t see myself ever having a crush, okay?”

Max was silent. He drew out another breath on the cigarette, tapping the end out. Ash’s nose twitched at the smell. Golzine didn’t smoke, that was where he drew the line, but a lot of his lackey’s did. Ash hadn’t been able to place the smell for years. It wasn’t particularly repulsive to him. He didn’t care to try it – he wasn’t about to risk yellow nails and teeth and whatever else for an addiction – though that it would certainly be a way of getting his own back. He could only imagine Golzine’s face if he saw his precious pet with his fingers round a cigarette.

“I’m sorry,” Max said finally.

“Yeah, I know, I had a shit childhood. Can we move on?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say when you say stuff like that, okay?”

“Nothing. I’d like you to just carry on.”

“Fine. Carrying on,” smoke fell from Max’s breath like bubbles. “I don’t see the problem. You and Eiji are good together.”

“He’s - he’s Eiji. He’s nothing like me. He can’t fight, he can’t shoot-“

“I think you like that,” Max wasn’t looking at him. “I think you like that he’s completely out of your world.”

“That’s the point. He’s completely out of my world. He wouldn’t survive in New York – and he won’t even stay.”

“Ibe can’t force him to stay here, you know,” Max spoke slowly, his eyes on the van. “Eiji’s nineteen. He’s an adult. If he wants to stay here – no one can stop him.”

“I hate that. I hate how relentless he is.”

“Hate?”

Ash looked away, letting his hair fall across the side of his face. Of course he did, but it was in a weird hate kind of way. He wanted his emotions to fall into place like they usually did. Love. Hate. They shouldn’t mix.

“Can I try that?”

“What?”

“Your cig?”

“No way,” Max laughed in clouds. “You’re way too young.”

“Oh yeah? How old were you when you first started?”

“Older than you. You’re what, twelve?”

“Just one drag.”

“You’ll get addicted and then where will you be?”

Ash shrugged. “Addicted.”

Max tapped the ash away, took another drag, actually looking as though he was considering it.

“All done,” he said, crushing it under his boot.

“Fuck you.”

“Just tell Eiji how you feel. From the sounds of it, he’s not all too good with relationships either. The two of you will figure something out.”

“That’s just like an adult to say,” Ash muttered. His temper was back like someone had flicked on a switch – he felt it boiling all over him. He started back to the van.

“Oh, thank you for waking up at two in the morning to help with my love life, Max. I really appreciate it, Max,” he heard the man mutter behind him. “Teenagers.”

“Old man. Why am I listening to you, anyway? You’re divorced.”

“You asked. I answered.”

“Yeah, well, never again.”

Max opened the car door, and Ash caught sight of the smirk on his face. He realised too late that he had fallen right into the trap.

“Suits me just fine, kiddo.”

The door closed again. Ash gritted his teeth, his fists curling of their own accord. He wanted to punch the van. He wanted to kick the van. Kick or punch anything.

That was how his anger was – a sudden throb of violence. A sudden urge to kick out. It came and went quicker than a tide. He was just furious and then –

Not.

He breathed out, leaning against the van and staring up into the pin-pricks in the sky. Maybe they were all trapped in a jar, and those little lights were the air holes. A child was watching them with fascination right now.

Ash shook his head – those kind of thoughts were even worse than thinking about Eiji. Those kind of thoughts burrowed into his mind and sat there for days. He’d rather think about Eiji.

Of course, Eiji had also burrowed his way right into Ash’s mind.

Shorter was right. Ash liked Eiji.

He just had to figure out if Max was right too.

He’d never hear the end of it if he was.

[greatshell-rider]

SKELETAL ESCAPADES: CHAPTER THREE

[Chapter Index] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

“Getting colder,” Atomic commented from where she half-sat, half-perched at the lair entrance, tail curled around herself and wings tucked in close.

CS2 glanced her way, unsure whether the banescale was speaking to it or not, despite them being the only two living and undead things in the tunnel. Atomic wasn’t looking at the necro-animation, but outward, gazing across the rolling hills of long yellowing grass and wilting flowers. It had been overcast for much of the morning, but now sunlight slipped through gaps in the flat stratus clouds, illuminating bright mottles over the grassland that rippled with the wind. It didn’t smell of rain, but coldness, yes.

CS2 was quietly excited. This winter would be the first snow it had ever experienced, even as a—

“Don’t you mind it?” it asked Atomic, since apparently the dragon had deigned to speak to it. “I thought a banescale would prefer the heat.”

“I don’t mind,” Atomic said stiffly, too quickly and irritably to be believable. A moment passed, during which CS2 continued to sort bee wings from fly wings, as it had been tasked to do by Tibia, before Atomic reluctantly continued, in a slightly less belligerent tone, “I don’t mind the cold. I like it, even. When flying on a high wind, or scouting at predawn, or when gathered around a fire under a clear night . . .” She trailed off, and though she hadn’t been looking at CS2 before, turned her head away.

“You like to be moving,” CS2 offered. “Not cold like this, cold when there’s nothing to do but sit, cold that seeps into you, rather than just touch you.”

Now the banescale did look at it, tilting her head to examine CS2 with one green eye. “Yes,” she said, for once not in brusque dismissiveness to try and bring the conversation to a close, but in agreement, acknowledgement. CS2 said nothing more, and the dragon returned her gaze to the outside. CS2 couldn’t read whatever Atomic was feeling through her body or eyes, but the fact that the banescale made the effort to get to the lair entrance every day and watch the world outside told it plenty enough.

She, like Tibia and Lamp, couldn’t wait to leave this hole.

CS2 continued to sort bug wings, satisfied with the short conversation. A moon had passed since Atomic had agreed to Tibia and Lamp’s care, and the necro-animation had been awake for much of it. It had watched Atomic’s slow, shaky healing—the banescale was constantly arguing with Tibia and Lamp both over what physical activities she could and could not do—and helped it progress, but more or less in silence. Most of the time Atomic avoided acknowledging CS2’s presence at any cost. Apparently something had changed? Or was still in the process of it.

Likely she was just desperate. It was approaching the end of the second day Tibia and Lamp had been gone.

CS2 wasn’t worried, of course, considering its continued animation was dependent upon both its creator’s consciousness and concentration. Last night it had felt the magic in its bones start to fade, had informed Atomic it was likely Tibia sleeping for the night, gone to the blackness itself, then returned in the morning same as ever. It was a good sign; Tibia’s power was growing, being able to not only maintain CS2’s animation at such a distance and length of time, but to reestablish it so easily as well.

The necro-animation had repeated this information to Atomic several times over the course of the two days, since the banescale had kept asking, despite Tibia having also explained it all before she and her mate left for their trip to the trading post. Yet Atomic kept watching at the lair entrance.

CS2 finished the last of the sorting and carried the piles down into Atomic’s den to put the wings away in the correct cubby holes. It hurried, and returned quickly, where it found Atomic in the same spot as before. It hid a sigh of relief.

Tibia’s instructions to CS2 had been clear. If the banescale tried anything while they were gone, it was to inform Tibia via their magic link immediately.

CS2 didn’t think it could be punished in any significant way if Atomic did try to steal Tibia and Lamp’s stuff and run off, or if Atomic died, or if she invited a bunch of drunken friends over and they trashed the place, but it also knew Tibia would be upset if any of that happened and CS2 failed to attempt to stop it. So it was very glad the banescale had been on her best behavior while CS2 was in charge of her—better behavior, honestly, than when Tibia and Lamp were home.

—Home. Huh. It hadn’t meant to think of the lair that way.

CS2 wavered at the tunnel intersection, wondering what other busy work it could do while keeping on eye on Atomic that wouldn’t make the banescale suspicious. It had already swept the stray grass into a single pile (twice a day), dusted Lamp’s maps, boiled the old bandages (Atomic had helped build a fire to heat the water, the first time CS2 had spoken to her without another dragon around), gathered the daisies that grew around the lair, tied said daisies into tiny flower crowns to hang on the walls, and sorted through every other material, foodstuff, and trinkets Tibia and Lamp possessed—the bug wings had been the last of the stuff for medical supplies. CS2 tapped two foreclaws together uncertainly. Maybe new daisies had popped up? Or it could sit still in the center of Lamp and Tibia’s den and watch for bugs dumb enough to crawl or dig their way inside, attack and add them to the hoard . . .

It heard scraping from the lair entrance, and peered down the tunnel to find Atomic getting to her feet and stretching out her wings. Alarm spiked through CS2’s bones and it scuttled towards the banescale, opening its jaw to ask what she was doing.

“I’m not going to run, you know,” Atomic said, without turning her head, a slight growl roughening the edges of her words. She flexed her long neck and rolled her shoulders, the long porcupine spines running down her body rattling. “I keep my word.”

CS2 slowed, embarrassment itching its skull. It forced out a laugh, nervous as it was. “Well, good, otherwise I’d have to—”

Atomic finished stretching and limped out of the lair.

CS2 gaped after her, one claw held up in warning, then figuratively blinked and rushed after her, all pretense abandoned as it squeaked, “What are you doing! Where are you going! You just said—”

“I won’t run,” Atomic snarled, favoring her injured leg heavily as she strode through the long grass, CS2 scampering close on her heels to avoid getting grass whipped in its skull.

“Then what—”

Atomic gnashed her jaws and CS2 clamped its own shut. After a moment, the banescale said, in a forcibly calm voice, “This is a walk.”

Unease gnawed at CS2, but it couldn’t keep quiet. “This’ll only worsen your leg.”

“Shut up.”

CS2 wavered, then sighed and simply fell in step with the banescale, mentally keeping track of where the dragon was headed and how far they were getting from the lair (not too far; Atomic couldn’t move very fast). It kept its connection to Tibia active and alert, ready to signal its master the moment Atomic tried to fly, but it still hesitated to contact her. Yes, it was supposed to tell Tibia if the banescale left the lair but . . . this was different. CS2 could feel it.

Also, it was nice to be outside.

Atomic wandered in a broad circle around the lair, moving slow and stiffly due to her leg, and always kept the lair within eyeshot—at her height, anyway, CS2 assumed. Itself, it had to count its tiny steps, and used that to determine if they got any farther from the lair. Despite the autumn chill, the sun was warm, the wind sweetly scented, and the feeling of loose dirt and old dead grass beneath CS2’s claws was soothing after two days spent inside the cramped, hard-packed soil walls of the lair. A skeleton could breathe out here.

So too, could a banescale. Though only able to view Atomic from behind and below, CS2 could see the tension easing from the dragon’s posture and stride the longer she walked. At times her breathing would get labored, and she would have to slow, stop, wait a minute, porcupine spines stiff and quivering as if daring CS2 to say a word—and it never did—before being able to move forward again. But she always did. For a quarter of an hour, she walked, limping with her wings unfolded halfway, so the tips brushed the tops of the grass as she walked, so the sunlight could bathe the skin as it did her scales.

Down at the ground, CS2 caught only stripes of sunlight, between the waving grass and Atomic's swaying tail, but that was sufficient. It could imagine how the banescale was drinking it in, savoring every moment, even as her leg ached and her body, long-wearied after spending moons ill, grew tired. With each step in the sun and every gust of the wind, CS2 relaxed more and more its grasp on its connection to Tibia, and became more sure in its decision to let Atomic have this walk. They'd both needed it, but her far more than it.

Finally, as Atomic's steps grew slower and her breaks longer, she altered her course, winding in smaller circles back toward the lair. CS2 followed, watching the banescale carefully now, wary of her strength failing and it needing to call Tibia not as a warning but a call for rescue, but Atomic never stumbled. Rather than head for the entrance tunnel, however, she walked past it, and climbed the short hill the lair was dug out of. At its peak, Atomic stopped. CS2 watched her large claws curl inward, dig into the peat and hold the layers of dirt and grass tight. It thought she might settle down, sit in the sun and wind here rather than her spot in the tunnel entrance, but it was wrong. She stayed standing. Her head lifted and her eyes closed. Her tail stilled and her wings sank down, draping to the ground not out of exhaustion, CS2 thought, but to root her to the earth, to ground her fully to where she stood even as the wind danced and whistled through her porcupine spines. CS2 watched her, and a longing rooted itself in its bones.

After a moment of hesitation, CS2 followed the instinct and clambered up the banescale's wings, keeping the touch of its claws light as it climbed to her shoulder. Even then, it hesitated, unsure of Atomic's reaction, but the dragon barely twitched. So the necro-animation sat, digging its claws into her scales to keep itself from getting flung away by the wind, and tipped its own head back, back, back. It had no eyes to close, and it stared straight at the sun. As a dead thing, the light could not dazzle it, but as an animated thing, it could see it again. It was much better than being in the shade of the grass.

CS2 lost track of time, minutes slipping away as if the wind took them itself, and was only made aware of its surroundings once more when Atomic’s shoulder shifted beneath it. It looked down to see the banescale twisting her neck to look at it, eyes inscrutable as always.

CS2 couldn’t stand the banescale’s unblinking stare for long. “What?” it finally asked with a light, nervous chitter. It was pretty sure banescales didn’t eat bones, magic or no.

“All this time, I’ve thought you were an . . . extension of the fae dragon. A piece of her mind, consciousness, whatever, put in those bones and following me around. Watching me.”

“Uh.” CS2 didn’t know what to say that. “What changed your mind? Because I’m not Tibia,” it added, unsure even after the dragon’s admission whether she knew it or not.

Atomic tilted her head, as if peering at the necro-animation from a different angle would help her figure it out. “I didn’t know little creatures could enjoy the sun. Didn’t know they had thoughts.”

CS2 said nothing. Of course the little creatures had thoughts. Of course they could enjoy the sun. They just rarely had time to do so, considering the brevity of their lifespan, considering how much of the little life they had was spent searching for food or hiding from bigger creatures. Considering how, when in the sun instead of the shade, a little creature was exposed, always at risk of its life ending within a moment, before it could even know it. CS2, in its flesh, living life, had never spent time in the sun when it hadn’t been also in fear, the terror of death so powerful it could have never let time slip away from it as it had just now, perched on the shoulder of a dragon whose head was twice the size of CS2’s entire skeleton.

“I didn’t know I could be so good at my job to creep you out,” CS2 found itself saying, the words not feeling its own even as it left its jaws. “That is my primary duty, you see.”

Atomic barked a harsh laugh, the force of it jittering through CS2’s bones. “Tibia programmed you well, whether its her own influence or strictly your own soul in there.” The banescale turned her gaze out, northward, the direction Tibia and Lamp had gone in pursuit of the trading post. “Creepy or not, you actually make good company.”

“I live to serve,” CS2 said, and Atomic threw it an amused glance.

“Speaking of, you know where they are, right? You can sense them?”

“Tibia and I are connected, yes, that gives us a general impression of where the other is.”

“Are they on their way back yet? I want do know how quickly I need to get off this hill, to avoid a lecture,” she added hurriedly.

“Uh-huh.” CS2 checked its tie to Tibia, assessed how strong its pull to her was. “Uhh. Maybe? After a certain distance, the feeling kind of plateaus. I don’t think she’s getting any farther away, but I don’t know if she’s getting closer either.” It shrugged. Without opening a link between their direct flow of thoughts . . . “I can tell you she is alive.”

“Comforting,” the banescale muttered. She looked to the sun, judging its distance to the horizon. “What would you do if they didn’t come back?” she asked softly. “If they got bored one day and simply didn’t return? I assume the magic would fade eventually, but Tibia’s last command would bind you, wouldn’t it?”

“Lamp wouldn’t leave behind his maps,” CS2 said flatly. “You can be assured of that much.” It patted a warm scale comfortingly. “They’ll come back, don’t worry, if not solely for your pleasant charm.”

Atomic snorted and finally turned, starting down the hill back towards the lair entrance. “I’m not worried,” she muttered.

CS2 chitterd in amusement, and rode easily on the banescale’s shoulder all the way back to the lair—up until Atomic’s foot slipped, sending all her weight crashing down on her injured leg. She shrieked as she fell, practically crumpling to the ground only half a leap from the tunnel. Dislodged by the sudden jolt, CS2 went sailing through the air, and crashed in a roll of its bones through the grass. It shook its skeleton out, then ran back to Atomic, who was shakily struggling to get upright again.

“Careful!” CS2 said, skidding to a stop next to the banescale’s injured leg. She was bleeding through the bandage again.

“I know!” Atomic snapped, pain sharpening her words. Even her good leg failed to support her, and she slumped back to the ground, panting heavily and injured leg bent at an uncomfortable angle. “I know, I know,” she repeated, eyes squeezing shut. “I know.”

CS2 dithered for a moment, but without the other two dragons around, there wasn’t much choice. “Stay here, I’ll be back.” Atomic didn’t reply, head drooping down in exhaustion, and CS2 scuttled down the tunnel into Atomic’s den with all the medical supplies. They didn’t have much left, and Tibia would surely notice its absence when she returned, but CS2 grabbed the pain-numbers anyway and hurried back to Atomic.

The banescale said nothing as CS2 applied the herbs as quickly and carefully as it could, merely lay slumped against the incline of the hill, breathing harshly through her open mouth. After a few minutes the effect took hold, and CS2 urged Atomic to move, slower this time, without any weight on her leg at all. The banescale used her good leg and her wings to pull herself down the tunnel, then into her den. She only made it halfway into her nest before collapsing once more, this time unconscious, leaving CS2 alone as it swiftly changed the bandage and applied more of a poultice Tibia had made before leaving, in case of a situation like this.

When it had done all that it could, and was weary from skull to tailbone, CS2 turned to go. A rustle of grass and twigs stopped it, and it turned to see Atomic conscious again, the banescale having turned her head to gaze at the necro-animation blearily.

“Don’t,” she began, slurring slightly, took a breath, and tried again, “Don’t tell Tibia about this, yeah? You—you’d be—in as much trouble—as I.” And she drifted back to sleep.

CS2 chittered softly, then stretched out its spine, tiny vertebrae creaking slightly. Tibia would figure out what happened. But Atomic was right. CS2 wouldn’t tell her master about the hill, about sunlight, about thoughts and fear. Tibia wouldn’t ask to know, anyway. But CS2 could keep its word, same as a dragon. It could afford to, now.

It had the time.