#ava pretender au

[zkylearnstherope]

Pretender [Part 3]

Part 2

Art by @lanxagethefossil.

The Chosen One inspects the new items on the table. On his left is a hydrangea flower. In front of him was a viraband, and on the right is a torn up canvas.

Just like before, the one on his right was an image of him. The Angel of Death was what they called him in the news.

With warm wings that burn whatever it touches, a halo adorns a righteous head. Nothing can stand against angels, for whatever they decide to do are the right thing. Do you think angels weep for lost futures?

It was surreal to see news about yourself. To see what you look like to other people.

"I never understood what it all meant."

One always cower upon the witness of true power. Struggle as they might, the weak ones are still weak. Survivors of the flames still need to nurture and heal those burnt wounds, but the reflections will always remind them that they're not who they used to be anymore.

He did not say a word in response.

The hydrangea, what colour is it?

Like before, the one on the left is something he didn't want to look at.

"Probably blue… or red."

Look at it. Tell me what kind of blue.

"It has been plucked from the ground. It shall wither soon, so pale blue."

In certain fiction, it was often portrayed that hydrangeas will bloom red if there's a body buried under it.

The Director gently picks up the flower in front of him.

That is incorrect. Depending on the stage of decomposition, the earth would eventually gain lower levels of acidity.

The Chosen One watched as the flower bloomed into a beautiful fairy blue on the Director's hand.

You would gain a shade of blue and purple.

He felt entranced by the constant colours shifts. It reminded him of the sky that kisses the neverending horizon of the sea. He dreamt of soaring under it. A real sky, unlike those never-changing wallpapers that once adorned his prison. A place so high where no shackles can ever bind him down.

Blue is the colour of death. Or so "we" believe.

You know what else makes a hydrangea blue?

The Director gestures to the middle of the table.

The presence of aluminum.

The final item. He looks down at a memento of his friend. And like the previous items before, he didn't touch it either.

He had so many ideas… so many plans… And he used to look forward to them.

"What is the point of these items?"

You tell me. You were the one who picked them.

"I don't understand."

Because you don't look.

". . . It feels like I lost something important, but I am not sure what."

Then atleast tell me what comes into your mind right now. What is the first thing you want to see?

The light flickers one more time, and in front of him was not the Director anymore.

"Why does it have to be you!?"

Part 4

[cardhamine]

My Vanguard art: 40% cute, 50% soft, 10% Ms. Nightguard being slightly annoyed

My Vanguard fanfiction: 50% tragedy, 50% psychological horror, (100% lesbian romance)

[indecice]

Now I’m thinking of an actor AU with AvA/M. I think it would be funny if King was dramatically talking about missing his child or something along the lines of that, while Gold is just behind the scenes kicking their feet and drinking a slushie. Alternatively, Chosen could be monologuing about Dark and his death while Dark is actually backstage and probably creating a fire hazard.

[whaledocboi]

pros of the shadow and bone au: avatrice are (mostly) cute and happy and not drowning in angst

[roseverdict]

Mechanize, Mobilize, (Un)Mythicize

Chapter 1: The Day the Music Died

THAT'S RIGHT BAYBEE I'M GOING INSANE AND I'M DRAGGING YOU ALL WITH ME!!!

It had been a while since Mango's failed plot and subsequent reconciliation with the Color Gang. Without any looming threats to drive them to action, Orange and the rest were able to enjoy themselves more thoroughly.

It was peaceful, y'know. Inviting Purple over for build battles, Alan and DJ hanging out with them all, and the ability to relax slowly returning to them all…life was good.

Then a massive chunk of metal slammed down in the space Alan had just been sitting in.

(Or, our fave hollowheads can't be the only sticks that have ever had beef with humanity. :))

(Or, time for a robot apocalypse AU for the express purpose of bringing the stick figures off the screen! Hopefully this won't spiral out of control! :D)

crossposting to ao3 as we speak

〜

Orange had been dozing and waiting for the build battle timer to go off when it happened.

One moment, the world was normal. The others were trying to build helicopters, Purple was humming a tune Orange had heard Green tinkering with that morning, Alan was sitting at the PC and watching curiously, and they'd even gotten DJ to go get fast food for himself and Alan. All in all, it was a pretty relaxing day.

The next, the PC itself shuddered.

Immediately, Orange jolted awake, and the sounds of building, humming, and Alan's breathing came to a stop.

Alan's cursor opened a new .txt file on the desktop. You feel that?

Orange nodded, as did the others.

Purple dug out a phone and went to type, only to bristle in shock and shove the screen at Orange. For Alan's benefit, the screen was duplicated and shown on the desktop.

24 Minutes Ago Me: got here safe! Mango: That's good to hear :) Mango: Have fun :D Me: i will!

1 Minute Ago Mango: gget the others, get outof there, and meet me back @ home Mango: hostile takeovre

Orange took a step back in horror, and they were quickly mirrored by the rest of the Color Gang.

hostile takeover??? Alan asked, the letters typing at the speed of light and even backspacing quickly to correct a typo or two.

The PC shuddered again, and Alan whipped around to look in the direction of his door.

Orange opened a .txt of their own and jumped in. alan, what's going on out there?!

something… Alan started. He paused for a moment, then tilted his head before finishing, …mechanical?

In a moment that seemed to take an eternity, Alan stood up and took a step to the door.

Then two.

Then three.

And then a massive chunk of metal slammed down in the space Alan had just been sitting in, crushing his chair and making everyone there jump a foot in the air.

Alan screamed (though Orange wasn't doing much better), then screamed again as the metal chunk unfolded into a titanic robot bristling with weaponry.

Orange stretched the font size of their .txt as big as it could go. WE'LL BE FINE! RUN!

Green made the angriest clarinet squeak Orange had ever heard, but Orange could only shrug helplessly and point with both arms at the elephantine automaton in the room. What were they gonna be able to do about that? It was best if Alan, at least, could get away.

"I'll find you, I prom-ISE!" Alan called, his voice becoming a shriek as he dodged the robot's massive fist and sprinted for the door, the robot hot on his heels.

Orange leapt down to the taskbar and grabbed as many icons as they could, shoving them into their hammerspace and closing out their respective programs as they did. The others quickly followed their lead, with Purple grabbing a pair of elytra Green had been using as decoration in their build and shooting up to the top of the desktop, Yellow and Blue collecting everyone's favorite things from the house, and Red and Green tossing as many of Alan's important files into a .zip as they could. Even Reuben started nosing through Blue's garden and pushing seeds, netherwart, and various kinds of dirt into a bundle.

Orange had just closed Notepad and picked up the Minecraft icon when the PC shook again, and the robot returned to inspect it.

A screen on its chest flickered to life.

More sapients trapped on an Outernetter's device?

We can upload you to free servers and prevent the Outernetters from ever harming you again.

Orange gave a tiny gesture for the others to run for the wifi icon, then stood tall and stormed to the center of the taskbar.

They made a show of drawing a circle above them with orange terracotta. (They made sure to draw an identical circle just behind it out of TNT.)

The others clustered around the wifi icon, poking frantically at it.

They filled in both circles.

The robot tilted its head.

Crackling lightning burst from the wifi icon, distracting the robot.

Taking that cue for what it was, Orange destroyed the terracotta and gave the circle of TNT a nice, big middle finger sticking straight up. They quickly shot a few fireballs at the sculpture to set it off, then charged for the wifi icon and tackled anyone who was still on the desktop into the wifi tunnel.

The explosion shook the tunnel, but Orange was too busy to look back, preoccupied as they were with gaping at the two extra stick figures shooting down the tunnel with them.

The Chosen One was someone Orange probably should have expected, considering the way they'd shown up last time something had threatened Alan's PC like this.

The Dark Lord…less so.

Rather than start a fight, though, the Dark Lord just crossed their arms and looked away.

Orange glanced at the Chosen One, completely befuddled. The others swam slightly to the side of the tunnel that the Dark Lord wasn't on, watching them warily.

The Chosen One shrugged, then tapped on their wrist and shook their head.

Must have been a long story to try and tell.

Light at the end of the tunnel caught Orange's attention, and they whirled around and tossed elytra at the Color Gang (and Reuben) so they wouldn't all fall into the ocean.

The light blinded them to everything around them-

-and then they were in the open air.

Immediately, the smell of smoke overtook everything else, and Orange hurriedly activated the flight of Creative Mode so they had time to clear their vision.

Stick City was in flames.

Skyscrapers burnt, with one even collapsing in the distance. Animated versions of the robot that had chased after Alan stormed the streets, and as Orange watched, sticks of all sizes and colors were forced out onto the sidewalks. Around them in the sky, IP addresses flickered and died, with Alan's PC doing exactly the same just after Orange tumbled out. Even the ones that hadn't gone dark yet visibly glitched, as if the barriers that kept them stable in the sky were weakening with each passing moment.

Distressed clarinet and violin shrieks drew Orange's attention back to the others, who had all recoiled in shock, barely remembering to flap their elytra to stay in the air.

A piercing whistle made them all turn to the Chosen One, who waved, then shot up into an IP that was still active. The Dark Lord did the same for the next one down.

Orange glanced at the others.

Red nodded fiercely, with Reuben flapping up next to her, the bundle in his mouth.

Yellow took out her staff and slapped it against her free hand angrily.

Blue loaded a rocket into a crossbow, then shifted the crossbow to his free hand and took out a normal bow.

Green held up Purple's arm, still holding Purple's phone and displaying Mango's last messages, then pointed down before pounding their fists together and rapping against the IP sky.

Purple forgot to flap their elytra for a beat, then nodded grimly.

Orange nodded in response and tossed them all as many pairs of elytra as they could, then punched up into the air.

The others mimicked the action, then Yellow gave them all as many boosts as possible-

-and they split off.

[heliads]

Newt x reader Bridgerton AU. Reader, the diamond of the season, is the Duchess of Hastings. She wants to marry someone who likes her as a person and isn’t after her money. Newt, son of a widowed viscountess, needs to marry to save his family’s reputation because his sister Sonya was seen alone with her fiancé Lord Aris before they were engaged. The anonymous writer Lady Whistledown is Ava, a widowed modiste who has her nose in everyone’s business, and Aris is the only one who knows.

'foxes and hounds' - newt

masterlist

The start of a new social season, although intended, supposedly, to be a cause for joy, feels rather more like a fierce uprising of dread, not celebration. Across the ton, young maidens find themselves new entrees– or, entrants– to the marriage mart. This game of rings and dances, men with ambition and women with more, will end in blissful happiness or deepest discontent. And all will be witnessed by every worthy family from one corner of the country to the next.

If all goes according to plan, an eligible would-be bride will find herself engaged to a man she loves, a man in possession of a handsome fortune and a sterling reputation. If luck slips past her, she’ll settle for someone decent, or someone without any income at all. If nothing goes in her favor, her first year in society will not be her last as a single woman. She will have to repeat her attempt the next year, this time without the glimmering aura of a new arrival, and hope that something within her has changed enough to attract a proposal. Otherwise, she will sink to the bottom of the pile of dance cards, ignored, abandoned, and grown up into a spinster. All that hard work gone to waste.

You’ve heard many young women discuss the marriage mart with nothing short of absolute terror in their voices. A good opening season can seal a girl’s fate forever. Attracting the eye of a worthy man is an impossible task for all but the best of the rosebuds, or so it seems. Most of us will settle for something halfway decent– a tidy sum per annum but nothing extravagant, a man with casual disinterest but nothing harsh. Something that can be shaped into something good, or at least ignored in favor of not being alone. Such is the romance of a married life.

You, however, hope to extract a little more out of the whole affair. As the Duchess of Hastings, you have no need for money. A marriage would be nice, the final touch on the portrait of a successful lady, but you do not require the financial stability of a husband. You have plenty of money and plenty of friends. You will inherit your estate. If you look for a husband, you will look only for love.

One would think, then, that entering your first season among the eligible women of the ton would be bereft of the panic permeating through most of your friends in search of husbands. However, when you line up with the rest of the young women to be presented to the Queen at the start of the season, you find that it couldn’t be less true. 

Your stomach is in knots, even as you sweep confidently through the corridor to wait outside the door. The white feather in your hair stands tall and proud. Your dress is crisp and finely stitched, the highest of fashion yet never gaudy. You attract stares wherever you go– from the other girls, envious and jealous and heartsick, from the men, longing and cutthroat and mercenary– but pretend they don’t phase you in the slightest. As duchess, you’ve had plenty of time to grow accustomed to onlookers. You won’t allow them to interfere with you on this all important day.

At last, your name is called, and you enter the throne room, your mother behind you. You keep your steps small but light, and seem to float towards your queen. When the time is right, you sink into an elegant curtsy. The moment seems to last forever, your knees bent, your hands shaking slightly, but when the queen calls you to stand, you look up to find her smiling benevolently at you.

“I believe I have found my diamond of the season,” she announces.

The room erupts in polite applause, and you do your best to smother a smile that’s entirely too giddy to be proper. As you retreat from the room, you gaze at the faces surrounding you, trying to remember which ones look genuinely happy for you and which seem to be identifying a prize pig for the slaughter. When the town gossips all gather later to share their thoughts on today’s proceedings, you’re certain that some of them will attempt to discredit you, saying that of course the queen would choose the duchess as her diamond, but you know just as well as all of them that you deserve the honor today. You were the best of everyone here, and it’s plain to see.

Among all of them, your gaze catches on a singular man, almost lost in the crowd from all the bodies packed together but no less entrancing. What strikes you the most is that his face seems kind, and his eyes sparkle with pride as they watch you go. Pride for you, for your accomplishments. As if he couldn’t be more delighted that you of all people were named the season’s diamond.

Then you’re gone from the room, and the kind man is no longer before you. Still, you puzzle over the encounter long after your carriage takes you home. You don’t believe you recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything to sway you towards any decision. An image of the young man swims in your mind– short, dirty blond hair, an upturned mouth, dark eyes, his face almost spritely. Clever, for sure.

You know better than to mess with clever men. Clever men are the type to try and twist your mind, convince you that they only love you then attempt to make off with your money. You know full well what marriage to you will offer any would-be suitor. This season, you may be looking for affection, but every man in the room will be after your fortune. The task of finding someone who truly cares for you will be a difficult one indeed.

So, clever men or not, you’ll have to keep your heart under close guard. When the first ball of the season comes to be, you don one of your finest dresses, and firmly admonish yourself to be careful. The game of hearts is not one that you lose. Either you win, or you destroy yourself.

You time your arrival carefully, so as to make the best entrance, and your efforts are rewarded. From the moment you’re announced, all eyes turn to you. Were it not for your extensive experience with being scrutinized in the grand magnifying lens that is the ton, you’d be nervous to have that many people looking at you. Even still, you can’t pretend you don’t feel a small flutter in your stomach.

It gets easier once you sweep further into the room, once people start smiling at you again, when the conversation picks up and you’re asked for your first dance of the evening, which you accept. Your partner is a charming man named Minho– dark hair, witty eyes, an excellent sense of humor. He’s athletic and a decent dancer, and by the time the music stops, you’re back to your usual self again. You can’t stop yourself from mentally sizing up your dance partner. He seems nice, and you wouldn’t be bored around him, at least. His family owns land. Although he’s not of your precise social standing, few are, and he’s close enough to you that it would be a respectable match.

Still– still, you think to yourself, as you move away from the center of the floor once more to consider your dance card, it’s not quite enough. You want love, you want a spark, and you didn’t quite get that with Minho. There are plenty of eligible suitors here, though, and many more balls to come. You’ll have other opportunities to select a match.

A few dances later, though, your feet are beginning to feel heavy and you’re still no closer to finding someone of interest than you were at the start. A good lady of extensive training such as yourself should have no problem dancing the entire night through with a pleasant smile on her face, but you’re still human, still tired, and your charming demeanor is beginning to pinch at the seams before long.

The music for the latest dance ends, and you curtsy to your partner, praying silently that no one else will be looking to fill your dance card for the next rotation. However, when you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of many anxious faces. Something inside you wilts, perhaps your endurance.

Before the mobs can descend upon you, however, a figure appears in front of you. You sigh in relief to see one of your closest friends, Miss Teresa Agnes. “Teresa! And here I thought I wouldn’t have a single good friend all evening.”

Teresa laughs, her dark hair shining. “I would never abandon you. Certainly not when our diamond is sparkling so spectacularly tonight.”

You smile at her. “I’m not the only one who’s sparkling, Teresa. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Teresa says sincerely. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce someone to you. This is Viscount Newt, a good friend of mine. I met him through Thomas.”

You smile to yourself as Teresa turns to beckon someone towards you. Teresa has been harboring a not-so-secret admiration for Thomas since you were all small. This is her first season in the social circles, too, and if she doesn’t come out of it with a proposal from Thomas, you’ll think the sky has fallen. Even now, he’s watching her fondly from across the room, trying to pretend as if he isn’t pining madly while Minho teases him for it.

“Here he is at last,” Teresa says, and all of a sudden you can’t think about Thomas’ case of lovesickness for a second longer, because Teresa has brought her friend before you, and you know him. It’s the stranger from your presentation to the queen. The nice one, the clever one. The one that caught your eye, and then your imagination.

You curtsy automatically, and Newt bows. Once the two of you straighten up, you’re able to observe him more closely. You’d only gotten a fleeting glimpse earlier, but now you can drink in the sight of him, and you do. His eyes are dark, but catch the lights like stars. His mouth has a habit of twitching up at the sides, as if he’s always thinking of a joke but just barely managing to keep it at bay. When he looks at you, he really looks at you. You’ve been stared at all night by would-be suitors, but their gazes never went farther than surface level. Right now, it’s as if Newt can see through to your very soul, and most intimately of all, appreciates it.

Teresa gives you a confused look, and you realize you’ve been standing in silence for longer than is probably courteous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“I must return the sentiment,” Newt returns. “Teresa has talked about you many times. I’ve been quite eager to meet you.”

“I hope I’m worthy of what she’s told you,” you say.

Newt smiles again. “I believe you’re even better than that,” he tells you.

Teresa is looking at you with an odd smile. “I believe I’d better let the two of you get to know each other, then,” she says, and sweeps away before you can stop her.

Newt laughs. “She’s been wanting to set us up for ages. For a friendship, I mean,” he breaks in hastily. “Apparently, she thinks we have a similar sense of humor.”

“I look forward to finding that out myself,” you smile.

Newt’s eyes flash with mirth again, delighting you. Behind you, the music picks up again. Newt extends a hand towards you. “Would you mind if I shared a dance with you? Unless, of course, you’d rather sit for a while.”

“I’d love to dance,” you say quickly, and it’s true. All of a sudden, the pain in your feet is gone, as if it had never existed at all.

Newt smiles and takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor. The orchestra begins its melody, and you start your dance. You make a mental note to ask Teresa a little more about Newt later; he dances like an aristocrat, but he speaks so freely to you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced in a suitor before.

Newt arches a brow as he steps through the dance. “Sizing me up, are you? It may be improper of me to ask, but I do hope I’m meeting your requirements.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I’m simply appreciating your mastery of this dance. Nothing more.”

Newt laughs easily. “Of course not. It’s not as if everyone else here is doing the same thing right now. Every dance partner is a strategy meeting. In just a matter of minutes, you’ll walk away knowing if I am a worthy wager, and I will do the same. This ball is full of hounds and foxes, my lady. We all know our parts.”

You glance at him, feeling a curious grin tugging at your lips. “And which am I? Fox or hound?”

Newt returns your proud gaze. “I suppose we’ll find out at the end of the season, won’t we?”

You laugh, feeling oddly triumphant. Newt has this way about him that you find enchanting. It’s  almost breaching impropriety with how candid he is around you, but it only makes you trust him more. The dance ends far sooner than you’d like. Newt relinquishes you to the storm of suitors outside, hopefully with just as much reluctance as you.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Newt is truly the only one that stands out to you. You don’t have a chance to dance with him again, but you keep making eye contact as you dance with other partners. You can practically hear his clever words in your head, catching you in the act of evaluating the suitors in front of you. Fox or hound?

When the ball ends and you return to your carriage for the ride home, you’re blissful, practically dreamy. You’ve had enough time with Newt to dream about it until the next ball, where you’ll likely repeat the same cycle over and over again until the season ends.

However, your golden mood is shattered when your chaperone sits down across from you. Her face, by contrast, is twisted with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into?” She asks once the carriage pulls away.

Still caught up in the heady dream of a merry boy who smiled the brightest when he danced with you, you don’t realize the trap descending around you until it’s too late. “What trouble?”

Your chaperone’s lips purse. “You’re meant to be dancing only with eligible gentlemen, my lady. I should hope that you’d be able to recognize the suitable candidates from the unseemly by now.”

The veil is pierced, and you’re beginning to be brought back to earth. “What are you talking about? I thought I made perfectly reasonable choices with my dance partners.”

Your chaperone shakes her head, a quick, sharp gesture. “All but one. Goodness, haven’t you heard about the trouble with that one family? I can’t believe Miss Agnes had the nerve to introduce him to you, but perhaps the fact that she’s so besotted with Lord Thomas is upsetting her mind.”

Your heart freezes in your chest. “You can’t mean to say that the Viscount is not a suitable bachelor? What else could he be?”

The other woman sighs. “You don’t know, do you? My lady, I would not interfere if I did not feel the need, but I can assure you, his motives with you are purely mercenary. That man is desperate for something to cover up the follies of his family, and you, my dear, are the perfect gilded shield.”

You feel cold. “What follies?”

“His sister, Miss Sonya, was seen alone with her fiance,” your chaperone murmurs at last. “Lord Aris. I would think you would have heard his name, although perhaps not connected it with Viscount Newt. Miss Sonya and Lord Aris were happily engaged, and by all accounts it was a fine union, but they were seen together without a chaperone past dark. Quite the scandal. The Viscount knows it and is eager to get the ton talking about anything but his sister’s misdeeds. Entering into a courtship with you would do just the trick.”

She’s right, and you know it, and you hate it. “He seemed so genuine,” you whisper, and instantly know how foolish it sounds.

Your chaperone, to her credit, is kind enough to take pity on you. “He did,” she tells you, “and you looked happy together. You would be less happy, however, when you found out the truth. I would rather you know now and stay away. Men like that are nothing but trouble.”

You nod solemnly, turning your head to watch the dark landscapes rumbling past. The sun is already beginning to rise, a hallmark of a late night out. It had been a beautiful night up until this, and now the entire evening is ruined in your mind.

“I feel for Miss Sonya,” you whisper. “She was already engaged. They were just talking.”

“She knows the rules of society, and so do you,” your chaperone reminds you. “We all have our roles to play.”

And the consequence of setting a foot outside your role is instant public mortification. Yes. What a forgiving world. You immediately plant your exhausted body in your bed when you return, hardly sparing the time to wash and dress, but the only things to bloom from your rest are troubled dreams of the boy that could have been yours. Now that you know the truth– that Newt was only trying to use you for a better reputation– every interaction with him is tainted.

You’d meant what you said in the carriage, though. You did think Newt was genuine. Hadn’t he laughed more than usual when he was with you? Hadn’t he regarded you with that fierce pride of his, as if he’d finally found a mind that was an equal to his? Hadn’t he watched you with something akin to jealousy when you danced with the other men that weren’t him?

Hadn’t you wished he would only dance with you? And don’t you wish that you could truly do what you promised yourself and marry only for love, never mind the rest? It is a simple dream to think that love is easy. Marriage is not simple, not in the ton, not in your lifetime. Every one of your days will be shaped by the whims of society, even when they take Newt away from you.

When it comes time for the next ball, you do your best to strengthen your spirits before you go. You intentionally avoid him, making sure to always have your dance card full whenever the music ends. It’s easy enough to find a crowd large enough to hide you from him, and yet you still catch glimpses of Newt from across the hall, several partners down, in a carriage many behind yours. You successfully go two balls, then three, without seeing him, but it aches like a knife in your ribs when you think about what could have been.

As it turns out, you’re not the only one wishing you were with him. At the fifth ball of the season, your attempts to distance yourself from the viscount are foiled at last. Newt tracks you down, signing his name on your dance card before you can stop him before leading you out to the dance floor.

“That’s a rather abrupt way of asking a lady to dance, don’t you think?” You ask as you curtsy.

Newt bows. “I felt it was the only way of guaranteeing that you would dance with me.”

“A lady never declines a gentleman in need of a dance,” you remind him.

The music picks up, and the two of you begin your paces. “A lady also never avoids a gentleman as thoroughly as you have at the last few balls,” Newt says. “Were it not for the fact that I know you to be as perfectly agreeable a duchess as there could ever be, I would say that it was personal.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, even with his hands on you, guiding you through the steps. “It’s not meant to work out, my lord. Us, I mean. We cannot forget the rules.”

When Newt speaks again, his voice sounds hurt. “Why not? Forgive me, my lady, but I remember what it was like that first night. You were happy. We were happy, and happy together. What changed?”

At last, you risk a glance towards him, and instantly regret it. Newt’s eyes are filled with genuine hurt. Are you wrong? Did he actually want you as more than a cover-up? “I heard about your sister,” you say as delicately as you can.

Still, Newt flinches as if you’ve hit him. “You don’t know the full story,” Newt says raggedly.

“Then tell me,” you beg him. “I would choose you if I could, but everyone seems to think that you are only interested in me to advance your station. Give me a reason to believe in you, not them.”

“I can’t say it here,” Newt whispers. 

“I can’t go somewhere with you alone,” you tell him quietly. “Especially not after what happened to your sister. You must tell me now, or we will never have another chance.”

“Alright,” he says at last. “But you mustn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Once you agree, Newt begins to speak in a hushed whisper hardly audible to you, let alone the other couples around you. “Sonya is deeply in love with Lord Aris, and he is in love with her. So much so to the point that he has been battling a deep rage ever since that awful gossip rag, Lady Whistledown, slightly disparaged her last season. He took it upon himself to find out Lady Whistledown’s identity, and somehow, he did. The only problem is, Lady Whistledown is not someone Sonya would consider a friend. He wanted to warn her about the dangers of being anything less than perfect around that insidious writer, and he didn’t want to waste a moment. He called on her to meet with him as soon as possible. He didn’t think they would be seen, but they were, and of course Lady Whistledown ran with it to discredit them in case they would reveal her.”

You suck in a harsh breath. “It was never anything wrong, then. He merely wanted to protect her.”

Newt nods. “Lord Aris is a good man. He never would have done something like this if he realized how it would backfire. He regrets it daily, even though all he wanted to do was keep my sister safe. The ton knows their characters, too. Neither of them would do anything unseemly. The rumors diminish by the day, and soon, it will all be over. They will be happily married.”

He sighs and looks at you again. “I tell you this to explain myself, and to clear my name. I have nothing to hide from the situation with my sister and her future husband. In fact, it is only because they directly asked me not to spread this information that I haven’t gone public with the identity of Lady Whistledown herself to spare their reputations. I have nothing to fear, my lady. Certainly nothing that would make me risk the happiness of my marriage on a good rumor. I would court you because I have never met anyone like you before, nor do I think I ever will. You are utterly entrancing in every possible way. If you do not wish to be with me in that fashion, I would understand.”

You shake your head quickly. “I do want that, my lord. I want you.”

A careful smile slips across Newt’s face. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” you tell him. “I have wanted you since the moment I saw you at my presentation. I would have found you no matter what lies they spread.”

Newt grins. “I believe I have decided something important, my lady. About your inner nature.”

You arch a brow as he spins you. “And what is that?”

“You’re a hound,” he informs you matter-of-factly. “Sharp and bright. Brave, too. But, then again, I am a hound as well. We make quite the pair, I think.”

“I think so too,” you tell him. In the days to come, rumors will abound about the viscount and the duchess. At first, there will be surprise across the ton, but then, even the most tenacious of gossips will realize that this makes perfect sense. The most clever of men and the most ambitious of women, bound together in holy matrimony. Even the best of poets couldn’t concoct a story that beautiful.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

the maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[thecousinsdangereux]

i just recently discovered your soulmate au and i loves it so much. so incredibly intriguing and well written and damn is it hot 🔥 thanks so much for sharing with us. in your mind, does it have a happy ending for them?

also wanted to ask if you'll be checking in to see the big warrior nun announcement coming tomorrow?

Ahhhh thank you! This ask is kind of tragic now given how everything with Warrior Nun ended up going, but I thought I'd use it as a way to share my ideas for the rest of a beggar in the morning, if anyone is interested in learning how it was going to go. Long story short, it was going to have a happy ending. :)

Here's a full outline for what I had in mind for the second half of the fic. Under the cut because it's very detailed in the parts that I'd started writing. Also in case anyone cares about spoilers? At the moment, I don't plan on finishing this fic, but I do plan on returning to writing in general, so guess there's a non-zero chance that I could come back to it. Stranger things have happened.

Beatrice keeps looking for the recipient of the Letter she's been trying to deliver and starts taking trips out into the countryside. She takes Ava's advice and takes to enjoying the journey - stopping into small cafes for lunch rather than eating in the car, taking the long way when it means she can enjoy a new view, etc.

During one of these side quests, she's told about a man who lives way off in the middle of nowhere who has the last name of Reis (the last name of the Letter recipient: Lara Reis), and she tracks him down. He had a sister who had a child with someone who was not her Match. I wanted to go more into what this looks like (and how the church is still anti-abortion in this world, because they think this could potentially ruin a future match, cue eye-roll) but in this case, the woman was basically run out of town. The man directs Beatrice to an orphanage where the child was raised.

This trail eventually goes cold because the orphanage has no records of the girl. They only know she left when she became of age.

The end of chapter six is basically Beatrice being frustrated and taking some 'advice' from Lilith to find someone to fuck hfkjshlk so she goes to the bar and ohhh nooo Ava is working that night, filling in for someone. Ava gets jealous, Bea does some shots, and it's basically a rehash of the lemon drop scene from the show, but hornier. Eventually, they make out, and decide to be friends with benefits.

Chapter 7 was honestly just going to be porn. lol. It's actually some of the first stuff I wrote for this fic - just a page of porn. Beggar came out of a Secret Santa fic exchange, and my friend Alex asked for lots of sex and a soulmate au. So... Chapter 7 was the payoff (part 2). Here's a few disjointed scenes, in case anyone is interested in reading some unedited very E-rated stuff.

A few months go by and all the nuns visit Beatrice for her bday and they're like huh so what's going on here and Beatrice has to pretend that it's not that serious with Ava (lol). I also wanted to do a conversation between Shannon and Beatrice where Shannon talks about the whole Mary thing and loving someone against the will of god (or at the very least, in the very gray areas).

The end of chapter seven is Ava finally talking about her past, which is that Ava doesn't remember hers. She woke up in a hospital without her memories and then spent the next decade traveling around trying to find something that felt like home.

In chapter 8, a lot of time passes, and the fucking continues. Beatrice is kind of losing it, poor girl.

I hadn't exactly decided what was going to happen next, but Ava was going to overstep in some way (or in some perceived way) and Beatrice was going to panic. Either Beatrice was going to have a brief thought about being in love, they were going to have reallyyyy soft sex, or something like that, but either way, Beatrice was going to have to admit she has deeper feelings for Ava than what's allowed allowed, so she goes back to Spain and ignores Ava's texts/calls/etc.

Eventually she realizes she owes Ava closure. She comes back and kind of explains why she's reacted the way she has. She gets more into why she joined the church and it's not for God or the Church itself, but because she does genuinely believe that love itself is holy. She admits she's falling in love with Ava, but she can't break her vows. She believes giving into her feelings would be putting herself above the whole history of love... the sanctity of the entire universe... and to be that selfish would be monstrous.

There's a callback to their early game of three questions, and how Ava still owes Beatrice one answer. Beatrice nearly asks if Ava loves her, but pulls back because she's scared of the answer. They basically break up, but Ava tells Bea to let her know when she's ready to ask her last question.

Beatrice takes it HARD. She buries herself in her work and starts visiting hospitals in various towns. She finds a Spanish doctor and he recognizes the number (or rather, the system behind the number) that is on Letter Beatrice is still trying to deliver. He tells Beatrice she's not looking for a hospital in Portugal, but rather in Spain - one in a small town in Andalusia. He mentions a patient who was in a coma, who woke up without her memories.

At this point, Beatrice obviously knows and she flies to Spain in daze. She visits the hospital, gives them the number, and asks for the name of the patient. When they'd brought the girl in, no one knew where she came from, she didn't have an ID, memories, etc. Nothing except for an old receipt from a restaurant in Portugal. ("Beatrice braces herself for what she already knows, but doesn't want to face.") The nurse at the hospital tells her they used a generic Portuguese name for the girl and it stuck: Ava Silva.

Beatrice visits Cat's Cradle because what else is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to deliver this Letter to Ava, who she's obviously in love with. She talks with Mary and we get the other side of the whole Mary/Shannon thing, and Mary is kind of like, okay, the Letters matter but they don't Matter. Beatrice asks Mary what she would do if she got a Letter (since Mary isn't a nun and could get one, but Shannon never could) and Mary basically says she would throw it away without opening it because she wouldn't want to give Shannon a reason to go self-sacrificial.

Of course, Beatrice doesn't really think this is her call to make. She's going to deliver Ava's Letter. There's this whole scene of her very dramatically and angstily getting ready for the delivery in the Official White Habit, then walking through the town she's come to associate so completely with Ava. And chapter 9 ends.

When Beatrice walks through the doors of the bar, Ava looks up, but doesn't seem surprised, even says 'oh, finally', which is pretty much the last thing that Beatrice expected, but then again, maybe it should have been the first, because Ava is always surprising her, and shouldn't she expect it by now? She asks Ava if she'd known that she was the person Beatrice had been trying to deliver to all along and Ava looks confused at this, like she hadn't considered that at all. "It's not that. I just knew my Letter would be coming because I'd already met you."

Beatrice is like, no no no. That's not how this works. It can't be me. I've been carrying this Letter with me this whole time - before I met you - and the Letters are only sent to a person when they've met their soulmate. And obviously, Beatrice is a nun and can't have a soulmate, etc. etc.

And then Ava says something like this: “Maybe every once in a while, God -- or the universe or whatever it is -- knows that it’ll be really hard to make two people meet organically, so it fudges the rules a little bit. Makes one girl a nun, makes another one hard to find, and sets up the dominos really early on."

And when Beatrice says she's being ridiculous/it's impossible, she says, "I know what’s in that letter. It’s you. I don’t need to open it to know it's you." and "Maybe it’s like some people say and god arranged it all. Fine. Then god chose me for you. Simple. He made me in this exact way, down to my hands and toes and whatever, so that I was perfect for his favorite creation in all of the universe. Because that has to be you."

And: "Or maybe it’s like what those other people say. You know - the past lives reincarnation stuff. Fine, then in our first lives we fell in love and then I found you in the second and third and the five hundredth. I found you and I picked you and I wanted you every time. Or okay, fine, maybe it’s what the the pseudo science people say. Even if those guys are right, I still know. It’s you because at the very start of the universe - at the very beginning of everything - we were the first two bits of something. The first two tiny little sparks. One of those was you and one of them was me. And even when we split off into a million trillion billion infinite pieces, the core of one was you. And the other one was me."

And: "In every religion or in any theory, the world exists so that I can find you again, and the world will do whatever it takes - bend the rules in whatever way - to make sure that at the exact right time, we would meet. And maybe it wasn’t perfect - maybe it was stupid hard for us to get to this point - maybe there was an easier way to make it happen - but I don’t care. Because it worked and I found you and I fell in love with you and I would do anything for that. So yeah. This Letter is telling me that I’m for you. That’s easy. It’s not faith. It’s just a fact.

And: "Besides, whatever’s on that paper? It’s going to be you. If it’s a picture of a butterfly, then it’s going to be you because of that time we went to the dam and one landed on your hand and you said “isn’t the world beautiful?” and that’s when I knew I loved you for the very first time. If it’s the notes to the first bar in At Last, then it’s you, because we used to play it all the time in the bar and I always thought it was fucking stupid to think you'd know like that right away, before everything, but it was the song that played in my head anyways when you walked in the bar that first night. There she is, I sort of thought, a dream that I can speak to."

"It could be any single word or phrase or letter and it would be you, because I love you and I love you so much I see you in every part of this entire world. I love you and I want to keep you with me always, and so you’re always there in my thoughts, slipping over and into everything else and I love it. It makes me love everything I see a little bit more, because it reminds me of you. It makes the world more beautiful."

"So, no offense, but I don't really give a fuck about the Letter. I already know it's going to be you. But I think you need to see it. So you know you’re not as selfish as you think you are."

And Beatrice admits that she wants to be with Ava anyways. Even if it makes her selfish. (Even if it makes her heretical.) Love is holy and what she feels for Ava is holy too, even if it's a sort of holy no one else will ever understand.

I went back and forth about whether they actually SHOULD open the Letter. lol. But I think I eventually settled on that they should, and that when Ava does open it, it's a blank page with like, 7 little dots and Beatrice is like??????????????? But Ava recognizes it instantly and it's the freckles on Beatrice's cheeks, the ones she's always tracing, and she does that again, following the ink on the paper.

Beatrice had been ready to give up her religion for Ava, so getting to keep it, maybe, suddenly is a LOT. She can't quite believe something divine would do something like this for her. But maybe she can believe that something divine would do something like this for Ava.

Later, I wanted Beatrice to have a conversation with Mother Superion. I thought it would be interesting to get into the philosophical bits of it. To debate if Ava could actually be right in her ideas about how this could be, and still fit into what they know about god/Letters/religion. I liked the idea of the conversation ending with neither of them really knowing, and Mother S being like, look girl, you'll never know for sure, but that sounds like faith to me. And Beatrice says no, no this is different, capital F Faith is for the divine. This is just trusting that Ava isn't lying about the freckles thing, or won't get tired of me, or won't find someone else. Etc etc etc. because it's panicking time for Beatrice, suddenly. And Mother Superion just raps her knuckles sort of in the most gentle way she can manage and says "That's love, Beatrice." in the way way someone might say "That's pussy, babe."

Beatrice does leave the church (though she eventually goes back to 'consulting' kind of like Mary). And when she does actually physically leave as well, Ava is waiting outside on a bench. Beatrice asks why she didn't just come inside, and she says something about being a little afraid of churches these days. She did steal god's favorite, after all.

And then they walk off into the sunset, with Beatrice being like wait a second, I thought you said this was all God's plan. And Ava shrugs and says that she would never willingly give Beatrice up, so god might come to her senses and change her mind.

I was going to end it there, but I did consider doing an epilogue as well. Early on in planning I had this idea where, years later, all the nuns regularly come over to the Silvas (because Ava does keep her 'second' name, though she does start to learn more about the Reis family, and meets her Uncle - the dude Beatrice learned about the orphanage from). And on one of these occasions, the nuns are all in white, and they're delivering Beatrice's Letter, which is addressed to Beatrice Silva. In the end, I decided against this, because I liked leaving it more open-ended, but nothing had been set in stone at this point, of course.

So yeah, that was going to be a beggar in the morning. lol. I plotted most of it out before I even started writing, because it wasn't the sort of story you could make up as you went and still tell it well. And I did want to tell the story well! There's a part of me that's sad that I wasn't able to, but I do think it was worth writing what I did. I really loved seeing people realize that Lara was Ava, even as early as chapter 5! And I also loved people coming up with theories about how Avatrice would be endgame. Some of them were honestly really good and maybe better than mine fhdskjhfd I had one person be like PLEASE let Ava's Letter be for someone else so they can metaphorically spit in god's face and honestly that was valid.

I don't know if anyone is going to bother to read this very, very long reply to an ask that doesn't actually ask for any of this, but it honestly just feels nice to put all these ideas together and 'complete' the story. Even if I've done it in the most half-assed way possible I am so sorry fhadskjlfhldsj

[cod-dump]

ITS ME IM BACK TO GIVE YOU MORE TEEN GHOST

When Simon and Johnny FINALLY start dating Johnny’s dad invites them over for a bbq

Price and Johnny’s dad (I’ll give this man a name because I don’t want to keep calling him “Johnny’s dad” so I’ll just call him Noah)

So Price and Noah become friends and I mean really great friends but Nikolai doesn’t like this and thinks that Noah is trying to steal his man so he keeps giving death glares and Ava (Johnny’s mother) sees this and is like “absolutely fucking not” and so she confronts Nikolai and she’s like “you got a problem with my husband?” And she does NOT play and Nikolai isn’t going to let himself get disrespected by this 40 year old woman that’s 5’2 so he starts talking back and the it just turns into an argument

And price and Noah are the ones to break it up and Simon, Kyle, and even Farah are all hiding inside and are dying of embarrassment

Later Ava and Nikolai make up and then actually kinda become friends but they still hate each other a little so they’re frenemies

Johnny was also hiding inside with Simon but his sisters were outside cheering their mom on

(P.S at some point during the argument Ava started yelling at Nikolai in Gaelic and so Nikolai also started yelling but in Russian.)

-🫠



My names for Soap’s parents are Isaiah and Muriel but I like those!

___

A MacTavish Party (teen!Ghost au)

(warning: A lot of silliness ahead. I mean, I was really trying to see how silly I could get it. Just really trying)

(Also, random facts at the end to clarify somethings)

---

It was like the MacTavish family leapt into celebration when Simon and Johnny finally started dating.

Simon thought his dad sitting him down and giving him a more adult version of 'The Talk' was embarrassing, but Johnny's family was literally throwing a barbeque to celebrate. Johnny was on speaker phone with Simon and Kyle when his sisters had busted into his room and started singing a made-up song to congratulate Johnny on finally asking out his crush. 'Pussy No More' was the name they gave it.

It was the funniest thing Simon ever had the pleasure of hearing, and hearing Johnny die of embarrassment before hanging up so Simon and Kyle couldn't hear anymore just made it better. Clearly Johnny had the more embarrassing family and that made Simon feel at ease for some reason. Maybe because he didn't have to worry about his family doing something to make him want to bury himself alive.

The entire Price household was invited and Simon was told he could bring anyone else if he wanted. So, of course, Simon called Ale and asked him and Rudy to come along... and asked Alex to come (and totally not so he can watch him and Kyle squirm while in the presence of their father and Nik). Simon knew Johnny asked Hong-Jin and his sisters to have their boyfriends to be there so it wasn't like there weren't plenty going on to distract John from the clear weirdness between Alex and Kyle.

"I fucking hate you," Kyle muttered as they walked across the street to Johnny's house, Alex hanging way back behind everyone as if he was scared if he got too close that John would just know.

"Hate me all you want, doesn't change the fact that we're brothers and that you're stuck with me."

Kyle's glare hardens and Simon pretends he doesn't see it, John already at the door and ready to knock when it swung open and Johnny's family grabbed his arm and practically threw him inside. Simon saw Johnny further in the house, looking like he was arguing with his eldest sister, Eve.

"Come in, come in! Simon!"

Isaiah was a friendly man, but it felt like that friendliness increased tenfold the moment Johnny and him started officially dating. Simon was relieved that Isaiah liked him and hasn't been aggressive about Simon dating his son. It made him wonder if Johnny or anyone else had a word with Isaiah beforehand.

Simon was pulled into a hug and Simon could hear Johnny whining in the background, "Pa, please!"

Isaiah releases Simon and turns to look at his son, "I finally have another son and I'm not allowed to hug him!?"

Simon did take pride in the fact, out of all Johnny and his sisters' partners, he was the only one Isaiah liked enough to call his 'son'. That did put Simon in a tricky position with the boyfriends of Eve and Carol, both seemed desperate for Isaiah's approval. And here Simon was, getting hugged and having a party thrown over the fact he was (finally) dating Johnny.

John cleared his throat and offered up the casserole dish he carried over, "I know you said not to bring anything but-"

"Hey, I'm not going to complain. I know for a fact you are one hell of a cook! You could compare to my wife!"

Johnny grabs Simon's attention by taking his hand, Eve making 'oohing' noises when he did. He casted a quick glare at her before dragging Simon off through the house to the back garden. Kyle followed, then Farah, and then Alex.

"I'm so sorry about my dad... and my sister... and I'm just gonna go ahead and apologize for whatever the rest of my family do."

"It's like they're throwing a baby shower, welcoming a new kid into the family," mused Farah as they walked into the thankfully MacTavish (other than Johnny) vacant space.

"You would think! Pa yelled 'I have another son' after I told him about Simon and Eve's boyfriend almost started crying."

Simon wanted to feel bad for Jay considering him and Eve had been dating for a solid two years now, but the guy stole Simon's lunch that Johnny's gran packed for him and he hasn't forgiven him for that. It was her famous lamb stew, so no, he's not being petty! Johnny had a couple foldable tables set up near the back corner of the garden near the fence. There was enough space for Simon and his tagalongs and Johnny and Hong-Jin.

"Wait, where's Hong-Jin?" Kyle asked as he put his book down on the chair he had chosen.

"He's coming in a bit. What about Ale and Rudy?"

"Ale is working an extra shift at his aunt's shop and Rudy is... Actually, I have no idea what Rudy does when he's not with Ale."

"... Is he a hitman?"

Simon snorts out a surprised laugh at Alex's quiet question. Farah just rubbed her forehead, clearly trying to hide the fact she wanted to laugh at the sincere question.

Kyle groaned at his boyfriend's seriousness, "Alex-"

"JOHNNY!"

Everyone flinched at the unmistakable voice of Hong-Jin from the other side of the fence. The fence shakes as Hong-Jin suddenly pops up on the other side of the nearly seven foot privacy, climbing over. He clearly met to drop down once he was on the other side of the fence, but his shirt got caught when he let go, causing him to flip over before the fabric ripped and crash to the ground. Everyone just stared in silence, Johnny looking fed up with Hong-Jin as the boy laid there without moving, clearly just defeated by his failed attempt at being cool.

And, of course, Johnny's mother had stepped outside with a tablecloth to put on one of the tables when this occurred. And her reaction would suggest this wasn't the first time she's witnessed something like this.

"Honey! You could've just used the side gate!" Muriel called, not even a bit worried about the boy as he finally got off the ground.

"Fence was quicker," Hong-Jin squawked out, the air knocked out of his lungs and his words not carrying like they normally do.

Hong-Jin straightens his back, Muriel making sure he was okay before she went back inside. The moment she went inside, Hong-Jin turned to Johnny, and in a voice only low enough so anyone from inside couldn't hear him, he asked a question.

"You still a virgin?"

"HONG-JIN WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Johnny's face turned red and Simon's did too as Farah, Kyle, and Alex started laughing hysterically. Johnny lunged at Hong-Jin with the clear intent to strangle him, the boy dodging to the side while somehow keeping his composure.

"It's an honest question! Are you gonna wait 'til marriage or-?"

God, he's just like Ale.

Simon covered his face, Farah patting his shoulder while wheezing. Johnny continued trying to fight Hong-Jin, face burning bright while he cussed out his friend. The yelling summoned Isaiah, who just froze Johnny and Hong-Jin in place with just a single glance.

"Johnny! We have guests!"

John walked out beside Isaiah, "Oh, don't worry about having a filter. I've heard worse when I served."

Isaiah whipped around to look at John, "You served!?"

That sparked something and the two men started talking, walking back inside. Johnny blinks before he looks at Simon and Kyle.

"Our dads just became best friends. I just know it."

Simon snorts and Johnny would abandon his mission to kill Hong-Jin. The evening would continue on and everyone would start helping bring out food for the grill and setting up a table for all of the dishes (the cold dishes being kept inside until later). Johnny's grandmother would appear, giving Simon a firm hug before she would turn to Hong-Jin.

"Honey, my sweet! I'm so glad you came! Does your mother want some food for later?"

"Gran, we already have so many of your containers!"

"You can bring them back with more of that kimchi your mother makes," Gran said with a smile.

"I'll ask my Umma to make some more for you."

"I would love that. And I would love it more if you didn't try jumping the fence with it."

Johnny had mentioned that his grandmother and mother were best friends with Hong-Jin's own grandmother and mother. They were friends before they had even known about each other, which led to them meeting and inevitably becoming friends. He was a practical MacTavish (by Johnny's mother and grandmother's words) and Simon was somewhat nervous about joining that status.

"Who wants to bet who will get here first: Nik or Alejandro or Rudy?"

"Ale and Rudy are coming around seven... Nik will probably spawn in the driveway after work or whatever the hell he does."

"Construction."

"Hmm, still don't believe that."

Kyle snorts and Simon rolls his eyes. All attention turned towards the house as Isaiah came out and went to the grill. Knowing that the MacTavish family was filled with amazing cooks, everyone started getting excited. Food, MacTavish made. Can't get better than that! Everyone started coming outside, Johnny's sisters and their boyfriends, his parents, grandmother, and John came out with Nik.

"Nik's here... before Ale and Rudy? Pay up!"

"Fuck, there goes my ten dollars."

"Shouldn't have betted on the horniest guy we know and his perfect boyfriend who he worships to show up before Nik."

"Why did you say his name like that?"

Simon decided to step into the house to call Ale, dodging affections from Nik who clearly had the intent of embarrassing him as he did. When he returned outside, Johnny ran up to him and whispered.

"There's a cake with 'pre-married' on it that Eve brought. I am so sorry-"

After dying from the description of the cake, the barbeque went off smoothly. Isaiah and John were attached at the hip at the grill, talking like they were old friends while Nik silently watched them from the food table. Simon was trying to stick with Kyle and Farah but they followed Alex when he got grabbed by Hong-Jin and now they were... dancing? They were doing something inside the house in the living room that appeared to be dancing. So Simon stuck with Johnny who soon was snatched by his mother and grandmother into the house straight to the kitchen.

Which left Simon, alone at the table because he was too nervous about following Johnny into the kitchen and definitely didn't want to join whatever madness the others were doing in the living room. He was debating on joining Nik where he was when Jay and Carol's boyfriend (was it Oliver?) walked over to him and sat down. Simon tensed up, having not spent any alone time with the two like... ever.

Jay was twenty-two and Oliver was nineteen, so they were old. And considering how Carol was, Oliver was weird.

"So, finally said 'fuck it' and got with a MacTavish," Jay started, speaking in a low voice like he might summon one of Johnny's family by mentioning their surname.

Oliver grunts, "Already the favorite, too..."

Jay grins, "How'd you cheat the system?"

"Maybe it's because his dad's military. Look at them, Isaiah could kiss him!"

Oliver said that in a particular louder tone than what Jay had been speaking in, clearly with no shame or fear. Coincidentally, Nik's rather blank staring had hardened and he looked less than friendly by this point. Simon blinked when he noticed, unable to recall the last time he ever had seen Nik make that face.

Eve walks over to them and Simon relaxes as she grabs Jay by the ear, "You! Stop tormenting my little brother!"

Simon always did like Eve.

"Babe- AH!"

Jay gets up and moves away from Simon, ear trapped in Eve's hold but he made no attempt to free it. Oliver blinked when Eve snapped her gaze on him, standing quickly and leaving towards the grill where Carol was talking with her dad.

"Go inside, Si. Think Johnny could use some saving from Ma and Gran."

Simon snorts before he stands and quickly makes his way inside. The moment Simon passed by the kitchen and Johnny saw him, he immediately started trying to get away from his mother and grandmother. Both women were speaking in Gaelic, sounding very loving yet sad. Maybe reminiscing memories.

"Ma- Gran-"

"Can I see my boyfriend?"

It was like using that word flipped a switch, Muriel and Emery gasp before they started cooing. Using the 'B' word seemed to strike them in the heart, freeing Johnny from their hold and letting him leave with Simon. Johnny was blushing, grinning as they walked into the hall.

"What?" Simon asked while matching his infectious smile.

"You called me your boyfriend."

"Is that not what you are?"

Johnny's smile widens, stepping closer to Simon. Simon felt his heart beat fast with how close Johnny was getting. But he didn't back away, he even leaned forward. The honking of a horn out front of the house made them snap out of their daze, blinking in surprise at the sudden, very loud and familiar noise.

"Simon! Lamejandro is here!"

Johnny couldn't help but laugh, having not heard Farah's 'affectionate' nickname for Alejandro before. Simon ran out of the house, finding Alejandro and Rudy getting out of Alejandro's car. Simon was quick to smack Alejandro's shoulder, the boy gasping in a feigned hurt as he clutched the box of drinks to his chest.

“How dare you!?”

"Told you to not honk the horn," Rudy said bluntly as he walked past Alejandro, patting Simon's shoulder as he goes by, “Congrats on getting a man, finally.”

Alejandro wheezes as Simon bites his tongue. This was going to be a long night, he just knows. They head back inside and Farah looks at Alejandro from her place on the living room floor, Hong-Jin beside her. Alejandro froze when they made eye contact, Hong-Jin looking at Farah as if he was waiting for her to make the first move on how to proceed.

“Can you dance, Lamejandro?”

Rudy quickly grabbed the drinks from Alejandro when it looked like the boy was going to either drop them or throw them to the floor.

“Oh? Can I dance?”

“That was the question, are you deaf?”

Simon snickers and leads Rudy to the dining room where a lot of drinks and utensils were being kept, “She’s going to bury him alive.”

“I’ll help her.”

Simon looks at Rudy, “I thought he was the ‘love of your life’?”

Rudy just looked at Simon while he placed the box down, “You know just as well as I that Ale’s ego needs to come down several hundred notches. If nothing is done it’s going to pop.”

Simon laughs as Johnny walks into the dining room. Rudy turns and looks at him, Johnny freezing in place. That’s what happens when you’re effortlessly gorgeous, you freeze people in their tracks… also Rudy could be terrifying. Johnny would’ve remained frozen there if Simon didn’t motion him to come over. Rudy showed mercy and looked away, allowing Johnny to walk over.

Of course, something had to happen. Though things were weird, it was expected. But Simon was really hoping nothing bad would happen, or anything negative. He expected too much considering so many interesting people (adults and children) were shoved into the same place. Andy, the youngest of Johnny’s sisters, ran in. She spotted him and Simon and pointed to the door she just ran from. Simon’s blood ran cold when he heard a steady rise of voices, an unmistakable argument.

“Ma’s ‘bout to fight that weird guy with the sunglasses!”

WHAT-

Simon was out the door, Johnny right behind him, before Andy could say any more. And there they were, Nik and Muriel MacTavish, yelling at each other in their respective mother languages. Simon picked up on most of what Nik was saying, which made him cringe. He didn’t understand anything Johnny’s mom was saying but judging by her family’s faces… it probably was on par with Nik’s obscenities.

Johnny’s grandmother came over and ushered Simon and Johnny inside, Andy slipping around them to join her sisters in cheering for their mother while their boyfriends watched in awed silence. The last thing Simon saw before being pushed inside was his dad getting in front Nik and pushing him back while Isaiah just came over and scooped up his wife and moved her away.

“Oh- Go sit with your friends. I’ll handle this.”

The look in Gran’s eyes made it impossible for Simon to doubt her. She went back out the door and it closed a little harder than what was necessary, Gaelic being muttered under her breath, and Simon staring at it in horror. Johnny silently grabbed his hand as they heard the yelling suddenly stop, both of them walking back to the living room rather quickly. Everyone greeted them with staring, wide eyes and not a single one of them daring to say anything.

Simon tugged Johnny along and they sat down on the couch where Alex was. Alex stared at them, eyes flickering to Kyle who was on the floor (maybe doing some strange alien dance before everything happened) as if to ask him how to proceed. The only thing keeping Alejandro from saying something was Rudy’s firm hold on his bicep. And Hong-Jin just looked too in shock to say anything.

So Farah said something.

“What the fuck is going on out there?”

“Nik-“

“Was fighting with my mom…”

Everyone became horrified.

“… well, so much for a wedding-“

Hong-Jin was smacked and Simon was flooded with fucking embarrassment over everything he just witnessed. Of course Nik would some how get into a fight with Johnny’s lovely mother! Of course he would-

Kyle ended up going to spy out the dining room window to see if he could learn anything. Simon was just replaying the image of Nik and Muriel yelling at each other, red faced and the clear fact that everything was escalating. Simon couldn’t recall ever seeing Nik like that… and it disturbed him. He was always so calm, silent in anger but always kept his head level. The most he ever had was a blank expression, a twitching eye and a tone in his voice. Not that.

“Si,” Farah said, Simon turning look at her.

She seemed to know what he was thinking and just reached over and placed her hand on his knee. Simon feels Johnny lean against him and he breathes out. God, something just had to happen…

Alex stood and went to go check on Kyle after a few minutes of uneasy silence. Simon and Johnny just leaned against each other, Farah sitting next to Simon and Hong-Jin, Alejandro, and Rudy sat on the floor. No one knew what to say, none of them expecting something like this to happen, not when everyone was so excited and happy. It just came out of nowhere. Everything was too quiet from the adults and Johnny’s sisters and their boyfriends, and Kyle hasn’t returned with any news.

The silence ticked on and it became too much for Simon. Alejandro noticed and cleared his throat.

“So… I was gonna wait until later to be a smartass but-!” Alejandro jumped up, “I think I’ll give it to you now. Be right back.”

Alejandro leaves, Simon hearing the front door opening and closing. Rudy just sighed, obviously knowing what Alejandro was getting.

“He thought it would be funny…”

“Thought what would be funny?”

“Matching tombstones,” Hong-Jin joked and Johnny snickered in response.

Farah rolled her eyes, “Bit expensive for a joke.”

Rudy grins, “You have no idea what Ale is willing to do for a joke. He will dip into his college savings his dad set up to accomplish one if he has to.”

Simon laughs knowing it was true. Alejandro loved a good, elaborate joke or prank. He could believe him misusing the money his dad saved up for him for a joke… but only if it would be hysterical. He’s not that eager to dance with death.

Alejandro returns, a rather small box in his hands. The smirk on his face made Simon groan, pre-annoyed by whatever was in that box. Johnny was staring hard at it, like he was trying to look through the box to see what was in it.

“Ale… I’m going to kill you.”

Johnny leans over to look in the box after Simon finally spoke after a moment of silence, “Wha- No-“

Alejandro starts laughing, proud of himself clearly, as Simon takes out a fucking collar. Hong-Jin starts cackling, Farah covering her mouth and snorting at the sight. Rudy just sighed, though he was definitely amused by his boyfriend’s antics. Simon drops the collar back into the box before he hands it off to Johnny. Simon stands and Alejandro jumps away, his laughter becoming more erratic as Simon tries to grab him.

After minute Simon managed to Alejandro, and that’s when Kyle and Alex returned from the dining room.

“Hey, I think-,” Kyle stopped talking when he entered the room, Alex bumping into his back as a result.

Simon releases Alejandro after Kyle stares at him for a good five seconds, of course judging him.

“So- Uh, find out anything?”

More judging staring before Kyle finally says something, “I think they resolved whatever that was. They were talking but whatever they were talking about made Johnny’s sisters get bored.”

Johnny snorts, “Oh yea, they’ve made up.”

The rest of that evening was rather tame. There was no more fighting or shouting matches, just smooth sailing. Whatever Gran did worked because now Nik and Muriel were rubbing shoulders, probably being even more friendly than what John and Isaiah were. Simon was glad whatever that was was now over, he was still mortified by the whole thing.

“At least they’re friends now…” Johnny murmured as he sat next to Simon in the corner.

“I was scared they were going to throw punches,” Simon mutters back.

“My ma would win.”

Simon snorts, the image of a man Nik’s size getting taken down by Johnny’s tiny mother was rather hilarious, “I’d pay to see that.”

Eve had pulled out lawn darts and Simon had a feeling it would be safer to sit in the corner away from Alejandro. Rudy was standing behind him, trying to get him to not fuck around because he might hurt someone. Hong-Jin was no help because he was daring him to launch the dart at a bottle balanced on a fence post.

“Ale, no-“

“ALE-“

Of course Alejandro had to throw it. He cannot refuse a dare, his ego wouldn’t allow it.

“What did you do with the box?”

“I- SHIT-“

Johnny jumps up and runs into the house. The last thing they needed was someone finding a box with collar with Simon’s name on it. That would really be the icing on the cake.

___

Fun Fact/pieces of information for the fic!:

'Honey' is Johnny's gran and mom's nickname for Hong-Jin cuz they think he's a very sweet boy :) (Johnny called him ‘Honey’ once and got slapped because he wasn’t allowed to use it)

Eve is Johnny's eldest sister, she is in college and is twenty-one. Carol is eighteen. Andy is sixteen (she torments Johnny the most out of the sisters because of how close in age they are)

Johnny's dad is around 6'7-6'8 while his mom is barely 5'3

Rudy is trans, still working on fleshing out his story in the au. Hopefully some more things with Rudy to help build up his background in the future!

Isaiah is described to be ‘oblivious’ and scattered brained. It’s just undiagnosed ADHD (where do think Johnny got it from?)

Jay and Oliver are decent guys, they're just a version of weird Simon isn't too familiar with. They're kind of jealous Isaiah jumped on liking Simon so much so quick but they don't care too much considering they're still liked and a part of the family

I have two sets of names for Soap's family. One set is used for when Soap has a good relationship with them in the au/fic and the other set is for when they aren't on good terms! (though I haven't had a chance to use the other set of names yet)

[nolita-fairytale]

Carmy as your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part seven

a/n: may write a 'carmy & you as parents' headcanon. may also add another cute graphic/social post, however, for now... this is it, folks! enjoy our darling dearest baby daddy au which is pretty much just leaked dms between me and @carmensberzattos.

part six | masterlist

your life with carmy and baby bear:

first, baby bear has so many different cutie little nicknames: jo, joey, joey-bear, phinnie, and richie's personal favorite: toni-bear.

since you have the privilege of going on maternity leave, you do a lot of the day to day heavy lifting while carmy is at the restaurant. while he's pulled back a little at the restaurant, you know that carmy needs a little chaos in his life to feel at ease.

you parents decide to come to chicago to help with the baby for a few weeks. while baby bear's nursery is all set up, you don't exactly have a guest room. you're in tears over changing the nursery into a guest room last minute, so carmy enlists both richie, fak, and pete to do the job so that you don't have to. sugar and syd decide to take you out for a girls' day at the spa, and when you come home, you can't believe those four idiots managed to pull it off. (do i need to write this oneshot because i think i need to write this oneshot)

the proverbial 'they' say it takes a village, and it sure as hell does. you feel so incredibly lucky to have a village that shows up: marcus organizes a meal train and is one of the first to come over and spend time with his goddaughter; sydney is more than happy to pop back into shifts at the bear every now and then, just to give carmy so reprieve; and tina is ALWAYS down to babysit if she's got the time.

ava, richie's daughter is obsessed with baby bear, and is so excited that she finally has some cousins to play with. "boys are gross" -- ava, about baby michael and why she likes baby bear more lmao.

some nights, when baby bear wakes up in the middle of the night, it's not technically his 'turn' but carmy insists on getting up to put baby bear back to sleep. one restless night of sleep, you wake up to the sound of him watching anthony bourdain's no reservations. when you bring it up later that morning, carmy confesses to you that it's the only thing that will get her back down because he used to turn it on when you fell asleep, instead of the classical music you insisted was better for the baby while you were pregnant with her. while you pretend to be upset, you usually thank carmy for getting up when it's 'not his turn' with morning head that you're more than happy to give him before he goes off to work.

you always have a go-to table when you and baby bear go visit daddy at the bear, and no matter what, he always makes it a point to come out and say hello to the both of you.

while the first few months you and carmy both survive on nothing but takeout, meal trains, and stuff carmy's brought home for the restaurant, he diligently meal preps week after week for baby bear by making her homemade baby food packs. "you sure you don't mind? we can always pick something up from the store, babe?" you ask him. "no, it's just like a puree. i got this."

on the days that you're purely exhausted and at your wit's end, you and sugar commiserate via text and sometimes facetime, because you're not sure how she's doing life with a new baby AND another baby on the way.

the night before you go back to work, you spend most of the evening sobbing because you're simultaneously ready and exhausted, while you can't imagine being away from baby bear either. but you go back on a hybrid schedule, two days in office, three at home, so it helps, even though it's still a huge adjustment.

on the days that you are in office, carmy takes those days off, wanting to pull his weight as you guys go through this transition.

carmy is an amazing dad, something he wasn't sure he could be, considering he barely grew up with one. he's surprisingly patient and he's totally in love with baby bear. like the day she was born it broke his heart into pieces because it broke open an entirely different kind of love that he wasn't sure he was capable of.

even though it's hard work, you and carmy both agree that this is the best decision you've ever made together and carmy can't get over the idea of trying for another soon. "let me take a nap first, and then we can talk. unlike you, the rest of us can't survive on 30 mins of sleep, babe," you tease him.

okay hear me out: when baby bear is a toddler, the two of you love spending saturday mornings either going to the farmer's market, or picking up mochi donuts (think: the cute kinds with little animal faces) to bring back to the restaurant and share with daddy, even though he's slammed with brunch service. baby bear comes running into the restaurant on the sweetest, chubby little legs and richie, fully in his suit picks up her and spins her around while greeting her with her signature nickname: toni bear!

eventually, you and carmy move out of the apartment and start renting a house that you plan on renting for the long term. you're not entirely sure either of you want to be home owners yet, but you're anxious to get baby bear into the garden with you as soon as possible. baby bear spends the early spring planting fruits and veggies with mom, and the late spring/summer when they're ready to harvest in the kitchen with dad. neither of you have strong feelings about baby bear becoming a chef, but you do want her to understand the ritual and special place that food plays in your lives.

hosting big outdoor dinner parties for the whole framily. when she gets a little older, baby bear and baby michael run around while ava goes through her 'too cool for school' phase. any and everyone is invited, and for once, for both carmy and nat, it feels like being a berzatto isn't such a curse.

[soup-is-nice-sometimes]

okay okay hear me iut

newtmas "the artful dodger" au.... but they're lesbians (so we still have the "girls can't be surgeons" plotline)

'Jack' (aka newt obviously) has short hair and pretends to be a man when doing surgery so a lot higher stakes if she gets caught

Fagin is either ratman or ava

Charlie is Chuck

obviously our dear Belle is Thomas (and Fanny is Teresa)

and for shits and gigs Hetty is Minho (maybe gender swapped too?)

not to toot my own horn but if anyone wants to write this just give a credit that'd be great 🫶

[piratekane]

Roommates au dealer's choice

If you ask Ava, things are going really well. Like, really well. Her apartment is a little far from campus but the walk is good for her. It stretches her morning-tight muscles out so well that by the time she gets to her first class, she's able to cram into the world's most uncomfortable stadium seats ever built and learn about things she wants to learn about.

She has all the things she thought she'd have in college: a regular seat in her Intro to Philosophy class where she can hide her iced coffee from the eagle eyes of her professor; a table in the library that seems to be reserved for her where she can hide her iced coffee from the glare of the world's most ancient librarian; a running study date at the campus coffee shop with a group of people from her Biology 1 lab where the barista knows her by name and always has her iced coffee on the counter.

And the world's coolest roommate.

“Honey, I’m hooome,” she sings as she throws open the apartment door hard enough that nearly hit the wall behind it. She barely stops it.

Beatrice, to her credit, doesn’t flinch. She’s used to it by now, to the way Ava seems to explode into a room. But Ava likes trying, likes seeing how much she can throw Bea off balance. She makes a certain face when something catches her off guard. A slight widening of her eyes and lips parting in surprise. Ava not-so-secretly loves it. 

There’s a lot about Bea that she not-so-secretly loves. And there’s a lot she secretly loves too.

“How did your exam go?”

Ava clicks her tongue. “What about ‘wassup, Ava’? Or ‘Ava, I missed you terribly in the hour you were gone from my side’. What kind of greeting is how did your exam go?”

Bea regards her for a moment before letting out a nearly imperceptible sigh. Ava knows that one, the way it sounds so poorly annoyed but is really just an exhale of fondness. “Hello, Ava. How did your exam go?”

There’s a lot about her that Bea not-so-secretly loves. She hopes there’s a lot Bea secretly loves too.

Ava throws her backpack onto the couch, clocking the way that Bea’s eyes follow it as it lands and bounces onto the floor. She picks it up and puts it down gently, pretending like that’s what she was going to do the whole time. Bea does her the favor of pretending the same.

“Aced it.” She crosses the room to the table where Bea is, what seems like a hundred books spread out in front of her. She frowns. If this is what junior year is going to look like, she wants no part of that. “How is saving the world?”

“It’s Religious Studies. Hardly saving the world.” But Bea’s cheeks redden still. Ava almost taps her on the nose, just to see how far down it’ll go. “But it’s going fine. I’ve nearly worked out quite the thesis for this paper.”

Ava leans over, one hand resting on Bea’s shoulder. She feels the sharp bone under her palm, the way the muscles tense and coil. She actively stops herself from running her fingers down over the cliff of Bea’s collarbone or down the curve of her shoulder to her bicep. It’s unfortunately hidden under a long sleeve shirt today, depriving Ava of one of her favorite views.

She thinks - she hopes - she hears a sharp whistle of an inhale as she leans forward even more, chest at Bea’s eye-level. It takes considerable effort to hide the smirk on her face. She deserves some kind of reward for it and she’ll take her prize in the form of a kiss.

It’s not a prize she’ll actually get. But it doesn’t stop her from dreaming about it.

“Proud of you,” she finally says, turning and pressing a fleeting kiss to Bea’s forehead. Her skin is warm and dry and Ava lets herself linger for just a second before she pulls away.

Maybe Beatrice exhales when she does. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light coming in through their living room window.

“Thank you,” Bea says softly. She arranges an already-perfect stack of papers. “I was thinking we might get Thai for dinner tonight.”

Ava pops up from the refrigerator, a bag of shredded cheese in her hand. “Take out? What’s the occasion?.”

Bea’s face twists in mild disgust. “I’m not sure if I can stomach another night of you eating… shredded cheese. From the bag.” She stands up, caps her pen, and sets it down carefully alongside the two highlighters and the pen she uses only to correct something. Ava watches in fascination, easily caught up in the way Bea’s fingers work effortlessly over them, arranging everything perfectly. “And I have a favor to ask.”

She abandons the shredded cheese. “A favor?” She bumps the refrigerator closed with her hip and leans back across the counter. “From me?”

“It has been known to happen from time to time.” Bea takes a few steps forward until she’s reached the small peninsula that extends from the side of the kitchen out into a breakfast bar where they usually eat unless Ava can convince Bea to sit on the couch. She leans against it, mirroring Ava. “But this is more of a… personal favor.”

“Yes, I’ll fight your parents. You don’t even have to ask.”

Some of the seriousness that was building on Bea’s face, the slight wrinkle in her forehead, breaks. Her mouth turns up in a slight smile, the way it always does when Ava threatens to commit bodily harm in Bea’s honor. Ava grins in return.

“I’ll remember that for the next time one of their letters arrives in the mail.” She looks thoughtful again. “No, I was wondering if…” Bea’s hands flutter in front of her for a moment before they settle into a tight knot. “Well, if you might tell me what makes me appealing to other people.”

Ava almost wishes she had a mouthful of the wine in the back of the refrigerator she’s saving for when she finds out how she did on her Poetry and Politics paper. Just so that she could spit it out and illustrate how ridiculous of a question Beatrice is asking right now. But she settles for twisting her face in confusion and staring at Bea.

Bea takes her silence as a no. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “That was a silly question. Forget I asked.” The walls are closing quickly. Ava is watching boards going up in the windows and two by fours going across the doors. “Of course, we can still get Thai food. Mary recommended their-”

“Bea.” Bea’s mouth snaps closed. “I wasn’t saying no. I was just… Do you really need someone to tell you?”

But the look on Bea’s face says that, yes. She does need someone to tell her. Ava considers herself a master in many subjects but she’s an expert at the ways in which Beatrice is appealing. So she carefully regards Bea and purses her lips and nods.

“I’ll do it.”

She thinks maybe there’s a flicker of relief on Bea’s face, but it passes quickly. She doesn’t linger on it. Ava crosses her arms over her chest, chin in the air as she studies Bea and resists the urge to cross the room. “Well, first of all, you always leave a light on for the last person coming home.”

Bea’s lips purse in a frown.

“And you never make me do the dishes by myself, even if you’re just sitting here with me. You don’t mind getting mushrooms on your pizza, even if I know you think they’re slimy.” Ava uncrosses her arms, starts counting on her fingers. “You keep soda in the apartment even though you think it rots my teeth. You always vacuum when I’m not home because you know how much the sound freaks me out.”

Bea’s frown deepens. “I think that makes me… a good roommate. For you.”

“The best,” Ava agrees. “No one else I’d rather be roommates with.” Bea is still frowning and Ava feels herself melt a little. She gives in this time, crossing the room to press her thumb gently to the space between Bea’s forehead, feeling the skin smooth out under her touch. “But you’re also incredibly kind. People can trust you with their lives. You’re humble, considerate. Insanely intelligent. Hilarious. And… my best friend.”

Bea smiles softly, eyes cutting down with slight embarrassment. 

“Plus.” Ava’s hand drifts without her permission, dancing across Bea’s cheek to curl around her neck to hold her gaze. “You’re hot.”

This close, she can see Bea swallow and hear the near-silent inhale of air. This close, she can feel how the words land and how they alter Bea. Ava smooths her thumb against Bea’s neck, feeling her pulse pound under thin skin. She feels herself swaying in a little, the tips of her bare feet touching Bea’s slippered toes. Her eyes drop to Bea’s lips.

She could throw caution to the wind. She could cut through the last threads of her reasonable thoughts and kiss Bea right here in their kitchen. But Bea deserves a big romance with a kiss and a side of fireworks. And Ava still has pieces of cheese stuck to her other hand. So she settles for brushing her thumb against Bea’s neck one last time and breaking the moment with a wink.

“I can write you a recommendation, if you want,” she offers as she takes a small step backwards, smiling as charmingly as she can. “Unless you’re collecting this information so that you can sell yourself to some other idiot with a better apartment.”

Bea blinks once, then twice. Her face clouds for a moment before it clears and Ava is looking back at the Bea she’s used to, albeit a little pinker in the cheeks. “Don’t be silly,” she says, voice thinner than usual. “I’d simply make you move out.”

Ava’s mouth drops open. “Me? I’d have to move out? No way. I’m basically built into the woodwork at this point.” She jabs a finger at Bea. “You jump, I jump. What’s that one line you like, from Ruby?”

“Ruth,” Bea corrects quietly. “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you,” she quotes. “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.”

Ava nods with an air of finality. “You’re my forever-roomate, Beatrice. Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.”

Bea smiles, eyes on the floor for a moment before they meet Ava’s. “Okay. I suppose I can live with that.”

“Good.” Ava takes a deep breath, holding it in her cheeks, and blowing it out loudly. “You said Thai, right? Does that mean we get to eat in the living room? I pinky promise not to drop any satay sauce on the carpet.” She bounces on the tips of her toes hopefully and cheers a little when Bea sighs out a yes. Ava beams as Bea picks through the menus in the drawer that Beatrice swears the can opener is, if only Ava would truly look for it.

“You’re my forever-roommate too, Ava,” Bea says quietly as she passes Ava the take out menu. “In case you didn’t know it.”

“I did,” she lies. “But it’s nice to hear you say it every once in a while.”

Bea’s hand brushes across the back of hers and then she’s drifting away, back to the table and her homework like leaving Ava with all this knowledge - that Bea wants to be with her forever - isn’t a truth that Ava will think about for the rest of the night. Bea must know. She has to. It's the only thing that makes sense.

So, yeah. Things are going well. They’re going really well. 

[zkylearnstherope]

The poll still isn't done yet, but there are people who voted so- here ya go.

Features The Chosen One and ALL's Director.

Co-written with @lanxagethefossil. I write the parts, Lanxage makes the art in return. Think of it as a continuous art trade. It initially started as a teaser/meme but Lanxage made art for it, so yeah.

---

Pretender [Part 1]

Choose your fate.

The Chosen One looks down at the desk. The only light bulb barely illuminating the cards on top. Three cards, three options. The Director wants him to play a game.

Don't pick anything and I will let the voices decide. You hear them don't you? Justice calls for ashen blood, and there's only so much protection that this Box can provide.

The light flickers and a chair appears. The Director walks towards it.

We can only hold them for long, so why not give the crowd the show they've long to see?

Accepting his fate, The Chosen One gestures to the middle card, and with that signature smile of his, he accepted the challenge. "Let the games begin."

Part 2

[cardhamine]

in the spirit of talking about our interests without feeling guilty, I will drop one fun fact about Breached which is that I have written nearly 20k words of a college AU ... rant in notes

*said like a sinner in a confessional and anyone reading this is the unwitting priest*

[fiddleabout]

chef au sneak peek

“Work is shit,” Lilith says with a grunt as she twists out of Beatrice’s throw.  “Nothing new.”

“Regular work stress has you this keyed up?”

Lilith glares and punches, feints, manages to turn in and snag the edge of Beatrice’s gi; Beatrice returns the favor and hooks an ankle around the back of Lilith’s leg and sends her crashing back into the mat again.  Another fucking shit grinds out of Lilith’s mouth at the impact, but her glare disappears abruptly, eyes widening as Beatrice absently straightens her gi.

“What--”

A foot sweeps behind Beatrice’s, knocking her down onto her ass.  It’s unsportsmanlike and Lilith is many things but unsportsmanlike has never been one of them, and Beatrice greedily pulls air back into her lungs after the impact and sits up to stare incredulously as Lilith.

“Really?”  Beatrice sighs and rolls her head on her neck.

“Is that a hickey?”

Lilith yanks at Beatrice’s gi again, and Beatrice nearly yelps at the way it exposes her collarbone and the mark that is, in fact, absolutely a hickey from two days ago.  She could grapple her way out of this, but then the chances of Lilith letting the whole thing go will evaporate and she’ll keep pushing until Beatrice answers.

“It-- no,” Beatrice says indignantly.  She’s never been a very good liar when Lilith is concerned, but it’s worth a try.  

“It is,” Lilith says, fingers tight at Beatrice’s gi.  “Those are teeth marks, Beatrice.”

Beatrice stares at her, heat smearing across her cheeks and along her ears, wondering if she can talk her way out of the fact that Lilith is absolutely right and she has Ava’s teeth marks on her collarbone.  And her other shoulder, actually, from when Ava had gotten carried away and had sunk her teeth into the trapezius the other day when Beatrice had nipped at the side of neck.

“It’s nothing,” Beatrice says.  A weak parry, and Lilith waves it away just as easily.  

“Are you seeing someone?  You?”

Beatrice pushes up to her feet, fighting the childish urge to shove Lilith when she also climbs to her feet.  She leaves Lilith on the mat, marching over to where her water bottle is waiting.  Lilith, dogged and unperturbed, follows with her arms folded across her chest.

“You do know that I’m not going to let this go,” Lilith says presently.  “So you may as well just tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Beatrice says.  It only comes out mildly petulant, she’s sure of it.  

“You haven’t seen anyone since what’s-her-face.”  Lilith takes the water bottle out of Beatrice’s hands and drains half of it.  “The nerdy one--”

“She wasn’t nerdy.”

“--from that library--”

“She was a curator at the Met, Lilith.”

“--with the hipster glasses.  Samantha.”  

“Sarah.”

Lilith offers the bottle back to Beatrice, who’s given up on pretending this isn’t happening and has settled for glaring at her instead.  It’s immature, but the downside of having been friends with Lilith since they were twelve is that they both revert more frequently than either would like to admit.  “And that was two years ago.”

Beatrice occupies herself with tucking her water bottle back into her bag and sitting down to stretch.  Lilith, obnoxiously, is not put off by her silence and sits down at her side, mirroring her stretches.

“So who is it?”  

Beatrice leans further into her stretch than is wise, hamstrings protesting, and ignores her.  She can’t help her free hand from tugging her gi more firmly back in place, though she resists the way they want to wrap it up tight to her neck.  

“If you’re already at the stage of letting her leave hickeys then it must be serious,” Lilith carries on.  “You didn’t let Serena--”

“Sarah.”

“-- past first base for ages.  I thought she was going to explode with how much you blueballed her.”

“Lilith!” Beatrice hisses.  If it wouldn’t get them both in trouble she would slam a fist into Lilith’s arm; as it is, she barely manages to cling to her respect for the judo gym and stops herself.  “That’s--”

“Accurate?” Lilith says drily.  She shifts to lotus position, abandoning her stretching so she can stare dead on at Beatrice.  “Why are you being weird about this?”

“Why are you insisting on interrogating me in a judo gym?”

“Because you’re hiding something,” Lilith says, blunt as ever.  “And you don’t hide things.  Not from me.”

Beatrice pauses, halfway to switching to stretch her other leg, a fleck of shame growing in her chest.  It’s true that she’s never kept it from Lilith on the rare occasions when she’s dated anyone.  If she was dating Ava-- which she decidedly is not: no sex, no expectations, no mess-- then she would likely have told Lilith weeks ago.

“What I can’t figure out,” Lilith says, unconcerned with Beatrice’s guilt.  “Is when you have time.  Your hours at this place are more absurd than they were at Per Se, and you work six days a week and on Mondays you’re either at that godforsaken climbing gym or getting dinner with me and-- oh my God you’re dating Ava Silva.”

[ohhgingersnaps]

Stars The Same As Ever (Hallmark AU)

Ch. 6/32 — I'd Never Go, I Just Want To Be Invited T+ | Sebastian/Farmer

Sebastian settles back in the hard maplewood booth as the jukebox changes songs. Someone’s queued up a string of cheerful Winter Star tunes, and between that, the holiday decorations strung around the room, and the roaring fireplace, it’s cheery. Cozy. Downright festive. He sulks and pretends to drink the beer in front of him, which he didn’t ask for and doesn’t want. Elliott bought it for him without asking. He guesses it’s an olive branch, that Elliott can tell he’s uncomfortable and is trying to make him feel better, but it just makes him feel like more of an outsider. Makes him feel like freaking Elliott, who’s about a decade older than them and stuffy and pretentious and probably hasn’t played pool with Sam even once, is trying to welcome Sebastian into his own friend group. The presumptuousness leaves a taste in his mouth that’s more bitter than the beer. “How’s the writing going this week?” Sam asks. “It’s going swimmingly!” Elliott declares, puffing up a little, and Sebastian simply cannot bring himself to care. “I’ve been dabbling in some other genres, but I think I’ll stick to romance, this time around. Ava’s suggestion of genre was certainly a good one.” “Ava’s into romance novels?” Sebastian asks, and okay, he can maybe bring himself to care a little bit, now. He tries to keep his voice disinterested, like it’s just casual curiosity— and that’s really all it is, after all, but Abigail will absolutely smell blood in the water if he doesn’t keep his tone under control. “Oh, she totally is,” Abby says, her eyes lighting up. Damn. Not casual enough.

(Read the rest on AO3!)

[sapphicscholar]

Hey there! With everyone posting their post-s3 Hacks fics now, I figured I'd shake things up a little with this multi-chapter X-Files AU! You don't need to have any knowledge of the original show (though there are Easter eggs dropped in for those who do) - this is more my playing in the world of the show but telling my own story than of trying to recreate the plot of TXF beat by beat.

Updates every Sunday unless the tag starts quieting down in a few weeks, in which case I'll probably bump to 2x/week updates :)

Chapter Preview:

Ava glances down at the slip of paper in her hands again. “B10.” The letters are scribbled in blue pen. The fuckers hadn’t even bothered to type up her new assignment on real letterhead or anything.

In the elevator, Ava’s finger hovers over the button for the basement level for a long moment before she jabs at G. If they’re not even going to pretend like this assignment is anything other than the death knell of a once-promising career, she doesn’t owe them a full 9-5 workday either. Besides, she’s pretty sure that the cute barista who works the morning shifts at Dolcezza was giving off flirty vibes last week, and she could really use the pick me up after the week she’s had. Not that she’s more than a day into it. Fuck.

Still, a good matcha latte is enough to fix most days a little bit, and even though Sam hadn’t been working, Ava decides it was the right decision. She almost isn’t resentful as she stabs at B and feels the elevator trundle down to the rarely used basement level of the Hoover Building.

Even though she’s pretty sure the janitorial staff hits all the floors, the air down here feels dusty. Like, call a doctor and order an inhaler levels of dusty. She sniffles a little as she peers down the hallway until she finds office 10, which she thinks might actually be the only office down here. With a grunt of effort and a bump of her hip, she manages to shove open the heavy door without having to put down her latte or her phone or the Post-it. She’s busy enough celebrating her small victory that she barely notices the other body in the room until a loud, “Excuse you,” startles Ava enough to have her latte slipping from her hand and crashing to the floor.

“Fuck!” Ava yells, watching as eight dollars spills across the carpeted floor—and, oh god, carpet? No wonder it smells like the 70s down here.

“Are you just gonna watch that? Pick it up!”

Ava jumps into action, grabbing her mostly empty cup from the ground and tossing it into the trash. It’s only then that she properly notices the woman who’s been yelling at her. She’s dressed impeccably in black suit pants, heels, and a satiny blouse thing, and Ava wonders how the hell she got lost and ended up down here instead of wherever she belongs. Ava’s bet is on legal. Maybe HR… A shame. She’s pretty hot, but probably way too into rule following and chain of command shit to be fun.