#before I started writing this AU I hadn't written much for the boy

[foundtherightwords]

This Is the Sound of Your Voice

Pairing: Hellcheer (College AU)

Summary: After breaking up with her high school boyfriend and moving away to the big city, Chrissy is still trying to find herself. When her roommate Nancy sets her up on a blind date, she accepts, even though the guy - someone called Eddie - sounds nothing like her type. But then she meets Eddie and realizes he's not what she thought he'd be like at all.

Warnings: implied eating disorder, stalking

Word count: 7.6k

A/N: Written for Day 1 of Hellcheer Week 2024, with the prompts "instalove", "vampire", and "kiss". To be honest, I had the idea before I saw the prompts, and this is the best I could do to fit the prompts into it. I've never written from word prompts before so I don't know if I succeeded here (and I think I'm incapable of writing instalove anyway), but I had fun trying.

It's a No Upside Down AU (obviously) but I kept the time setting, so it takes place around 1989-1990.

The title is a song by Snow Patrol.

Looking into the mirror, Chrissy fussed with her bangs for the thousandth time. Despite her efforts, they were still infuriatingly flat. With a frustrated huff, she gave up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. It would have to do. After all, this wasn't such a big important date that she had to dress up for it. Well, important, maybe. First dates often are important, aren't they? But definitely not big.

Or at least that was what she kept telling herself, to drown out the nervous feeling rising from the pit of her stomach and spreading through her limbs, making her cold and shaky. So pathetic. One would think she was some little girl going out with a boy for the first time ever. Admittedly, it had been such a long since she'd been on a date, so it might as well be the first time.

Chrissy didn't remember much of her first-ever date, only that it was at the mall with some gawky boy in middle school. She hadn't been serious about boys then, and her mother didn't want her to start dating so early, so Chrissy hadn't even realized it was a date until later.

Her first date with Jason, though... that Chrissy remembered very well. It was nothing special, just going to the movies—they'd wanted to see Fast Times at Ridgemont High, only they weren't allowed in, being high school freshmen, so Jason had suggested they settle for E.T. instead—but she remembered being so giddy about the idea of going on a date with the cutest boy in school, so pleased that he'd asked her out, that she'd hardly taken in the movie at all. Afterward, they had walked home together and he'd given her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, and she'd floated to her room on a cloud. How innocent she'd been then, thinking that this was it, and they would get married and live happily ever after...

Except it had been nothing but a childish dream, and when she'd gotten a chance to make that white-picket-fence dream come true, Chrissy had balked at it. When Jason got down on one knee during their anniversary dinner and pulled the velvet box out of his pocket, what had risen within Chrissy wasn't the giddiness and excitement she'd felt when he'd first asked her out. No, it had been surprise first, and then dread. In the five years they had been dating, she had changed so much, corroded by the pressure to be perfect from her mother, her teachers, her friends, and, yes, from Jason as well, until nothing remained of that bright-eyed fourteen-year-old. Perhaps that girl had never existed at all, and this was who she really was, someone who was afraid of everything, afraid of every cheer routine, of every report card, of every trip to the fitting room, of every bite of food, afraid of messing up and ruining her life.

Some of that dread must have shown on her face, because Jason had been quick to reassure her that this didn't mean they had to get married right away. No, the wedding could wait until they graduated from college, he'd said, as if that made it any better. When Chrissy tried to protest that it was still too soon and that they hadn't done anything with their lives, Jason had laughed and asked, rather dismissively, "What else is there to do?"

It was that laugh, so lighthearted, so condescending, that finally convinced Chrissy. Jason clearly didn't take her seriously. He couldn't fathom that she would want do anything other than get married and pop out babies. It was then that she realized there was no convincing him to wait a little longer, no explaining to him that she didn't want to end up like her mother, being a housewife with no control over her own life, so she tried to control her kids' instead.

Her whole life, Chrissy had been saying "yes". Yes when her mother told her to eat this and not that, to wear this and not that. Yes when her advisor told her to take this class and not that class, to focus on cheer practices rather than her academic performance. Yes when Jason told her they were going here and not there.

But that night, in that crowded restaurant, while people around them ooh-and-aahed at this display of young love, she had found her strength to say "no", for the first time in her life.

Jason hadn't taken that well.

As the people in the restaurant fell quiet and awkwardly turned away from the spectacle, Jason had laughed and insisted that she was joking, or perhaps it had been too sudden and she didn't know what to say. Then, when Chrissy assured him that she was serious, the smile had faded from his handsome face. A cold look of anger had come into his eyes, chilling Chrissy to the bones. It was gone in a second, to be replaced by a look of utter shock and heartbreak that nearly broke her own heart. She'd almost told him that perhaps they could wait a few more years, until they graduated perhaps, to see where they were, but deep down inside, she knew that there was no more waiting. Still, it was hard, seeing how much she'd hurt him.

Jason certainly had no intention of making the breakup easy for her. In the following weeks, he showed up at her classes—the simplest thing, when they went to the same college—and at her house, bearing flowers and gifts and tearful apologies, trying to get her to change her mind. He had almost convinced Chrissy that she was making the worst mistake of her life. But every time she came close to getting back with him, she would see that split-second look of rage again. In the end, it was the memory of her fear that had convinced Chrissy she was doing the right thing.

If it had been difficult facing Jason's heartbreak, then it was a thousand times more difficult facing her mother's wrath. Laura wasn't used to her daughter fighting back and voicing her own opinions. But after the breakup with Jason, something within Chrissy had snapped. It was as if Jason's proposal of their future life had pulled a veil from her eyes and shown her that it was definitely not what she wanted for herself.

And so, amidst her mother's shouts, her father's silences, and Jason's pleas, Chrissy had transferred to the University of Illinois in Chicago—she knew Jason wouldn't be able to follow her there without losing his basketball scholarship, plus it had the appeal of a big city where she didn't have to see the same faces every day. She had barely scraped by with her grades, but she'd managed it. Luckily, her father had put aside money for her tuition, in an account in Chrissy's own name—it was one of the few things he'd done right by her—so she hadn't been fazed by her mother's threats of cutting her off. She'd still had to get a job to pay for everything else, but Chrissy didn't mind. It was the first time she'd earned money for herself, instead of just getting allowances. It was the first time she'd lived with people other than her family—a very nice girl named Nancy, who was studying journalism at UIC. It was the first time she could eat without worrying about the calories. It was the first time she'd taken an active interest in schoolwork. It was the first time she could decide things for herself, instead of letting her mother or Jason decide for her.

She was doing a lot of things for the first time in her life, and she had never felt freer.

Of course, it wasn't always easy. It was never easy to shake off the habit of a lifetime, and Chrissy often woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, thinking she'd thrown her life away. She wanted to apply for nursing school, but although her grades had improved a great deal, she wasn't sure she could make it through the program. What if she flunked out and had to come home with her tail between her legs? Her mother would never let her hear the end of it.

And then there was the matter of her love life.

Chrissy sighed as she put on her make-up. Perhaps she shouldn't have started this train of thought about Jason right before her first date—and a blind date at that!—in nearly two years. It only made her more nervous. Ever since she moved to Chicago, there had been plenty of guys interested in her, but Chrissy had never been confident enough to accept any of them. What if they turned out to be like Jason? About six months after she left, he had shown up on campus and proceeded to make a spectacle of himself in front of everyone as he begged Chrissy to come home. Chrissy had become frozen by shock and fear, and it was only thanks to Nancy, who had had the presence of mind to call security to escort Jason away, that Chrissy had found some peace. She hadn't seen Jason again after that, not even when she'd gone home for summer break.

But even though she was over Jason—which she was, truly and fully—Chrissy was still not ready for that kind of intimacy again. How could she let anyone know her, when she didn't even know herself?

It was why, when Nancy had suggested that Chrissy take the plunge, she had accepted it, albeit in a cautious way—even if the date went nowhere, at least it would make her more comfortable with dating again. Besides, Nancy had said Chrissy needed someone completely different from Jason, and from the sound of it, the guy Nancy set her up with, Eddie, was just that—he majored in English, he played guitar, and he was, by all accounts, something of a nerd. She couldn't get further from Mr. Popular Basketball Star than that.

"How do you even know this guy?" Chrissy had asked, when Nancy first told her about him. "Does he work at the newspaper too?"

"He runs the school's Dungeons and Dragons club," replied Nancy.

"Isn't that the—satanic game?" Chrissy said, her voice hushed.

"Don't let my brother Mike hear you say that," Nancy said, smiling. "He and his friends are really into it, but I know nothing about it, so I went to the club to ask about present ideas for Mike." Sometimes, when comparing herself to Nancy, who was juggling school, a job at the school's newspaper, an internship at the Chicago Tribune, a boyfriend, and still managed to have a good relationship with her family, Chrissy felt like a failure. "Anyway," Nancy continued, "that's how I met Eddie. Trust me, he's really nice."

Chrissy had spoken to Eddie on the phone once after that, to set up their date. He did sound nice—or his voice did, at any rate—but Chrissy hadn't let that fool her. Jason had been really nice too, until she'd done something that didn't fit with his image of a perfect girlfriend.

Chrissy finished her make-up and threw a cardigan over her simple blue dress. She looked into the mirror again, hoping to see a mature young woman of twenty-one, put-together, confident. What she saw was a girl, still looking like she had in high school, eyes wide, anxious, her naïveté showing all too clearly on her face. She thought about asking Nancy for advice, but Nancy was hunched over at her desk, frowning at her typewriter as though it wasn't typing fast enough for her liking, and Chrissy didn't want to bother her. At the last minute, she pulled off her scrunchie, letting her hair fall over her shoulders again. Not much of an improvement, but at least she no longer looked like a schoolgirl.

"Have fun!" Nancy said over her shoulder as Chrissy grabbed her bag. With a quick wave back, Chrissy left their room.

She took the L from the dorm to the South Side. Eddie worked at a music store there, and he didn't get off until six, nor did he drive, so Chrissy had insisted on meeting him at the store. He had offered to pick her up instead, but she'd claimed she didn't mind and wanted to save him the trip. The truth was that she wanted to check him out from afar, before they met face-to-face.

She arrived at the store with twenty minutes to go. The store was on a street corner, its front shaded by a maple tree whose leaves were turning brilliant shades of gold and crimson. Feeling a little ridiculous, Chrissy tried to peer in through the window to catch a glimpse of Eddie. There was no sign of him, or anyone for that matter, only rows and rows of musical instruments—guitars, keyboards, and drum sets further in the back. The place exuded the calm, peaceful air of a library, only with less quiet—despite its apparent emptiness, snatches of music and laughter floated from somewhere in the back of the store through the crisp October air, giving the quiet street outside a rather lively, festive feel. Chrissy was not very musical, but even her fingers itched to strum those gleaming guitars.

"Can I help you?" said a voice next to her, making her jump.

Chrissy turned around. A boy was standing next to her—she had been too busy admiring the guitars to notice him come out of a side door. He looked no more than seventeen or eighteen, with an impish, cheerful face, surrounded by wiry hair poking out from under a baseball cap bearing the store's logo.

"Sorry," Chrissy said automatically. "I'm looking for Eddie."

The boy's eyebrows went up. Probably not a lot of girls came by the store looking for Eddie then. Chrissy wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. "Could you tell him that Chrissy's here, please?" she asked the boy.

"Ohhh!" the boy exclaimed as understanding dawned on his face. "You must be his date! Hang on a sec, I'll get him." He hesitated. "He may still be in his lesson though. Do you want to come inside?"

"Thanks, but I'll wait for him out here," said Chrissy, wondering what kind of lesson the boy meant.

The boy gave Chrissy an amicable grin, showing his braces, then he turned on his heel and went back in through the side door. "Eddie!" Chrissy heard him shout through the door left ajar, with all the tact of teenage boys. "Your date's here! You're right, she is pretty!"

Cheeks burning up, Chrissy backed away until she was partially hidden by the maple tree. Another agonizing five minutes passed, before the side door opened again and a young man emerged.

Chrissy stared at him.

From Nancy's description, Chrissy had pictured Eddie as someone rather similar to Nancy's boyfriend, Jonathan—a bit weedy, a bit dorky, whom Jason and his fellow jocks would've made fun of in high school, while Chrissy sat by, shame-faced but not having the courage to speak up.

The young man who came out of the store looked nothing like that. He was tall, yes, and lanky, but definitely not weedy, and definitely not a dork. At least not like any dork Chrissy knew. His long, dark hair, which flowed in soft waves down to his shoulders, the steel rings gleaming on his fingers, and his leather jacket, layered with a denim vest stuck full of patches and pins, made him look like a biker or a rocker. To complete the effect, he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. The sunglasses struck Chrissy as rather pretentious, considering that dusk was falling and they would only impede his vision. Her heart sank. This was the guy Nancy believed would be perfect for her? He looked rather... scary.

Chrissy drew further behind the tree. She began to wish she hadn't accepted Nancy's offer. Her only hope that this was not Eddie, but some other employee of the store.

The young man leaned against the door, keeping it open. Kids, all with guitars slung on their backs or hanging from their shoulders, streamed out past him. At least this answered Chrissy's question about the lesson.

"Bye, Eddie!" a little girl said as she ran through the door, dispersing any hope Chrissy might have about the young man's identity.

"Bye, Pippa," replied Eddie. "Don't run."

Chrissy could glimpse fangs behind his lips, and for a confused moment, she wondered if he was a vampire. Then she remembered, with a jolt, that it was almost Halloween. Now that she was paying more attention, she noticed a row of jack-o-lanterns in the shop's windows, and saw that most of the kids were dressed up, as ghosts and ghouls, princesses and superheroes. She amended her initial impression of Eddie's sunglasses, feeling ashamed that she had been so quick to judge. Maybe they were a part of his costume—maybe he was dressed up as Jason Patric from The Lost Boys. He certainly had the right look for it.

As Chrissy watched Eddie say goodbye to the kids, her apprehension gradually fell away. He was clearly well liked by the kids, and in turn, he seemed to like them as well—he called each of them by name and had something to say to each of them, a few words of praise, a gentle admonishment, or a joke. A boy, dressed as a werewolf, went through the door and growled at Eddie. Eddie hissed back. "Don't let the fleas catch you," he said and fist-bumped the boy, who giggled delightedly.

Chrissy couldn't help grinning herself. Now feeling a lot more at ease, she waited until the last kid had left and went up to Eddie. His face was turned away, so he didn't see her.

"Eddie?" she called.

He finally turned to face her, and Chrissy's heart skipped a beat. Despite the sunglasses, his face was open, friendly, and—yes, quite cute too, with a fine-shaped nose, a strong chin and jaw that somehow managed to still look soft, and full lips that broke out in a smile the moment he saw her. "Chrissy?" he said.

"Yes."

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Have you been here long?"

"No, not at all—"

They were interrupted by the boy with the baseball cap, who emerged from the door and pressed something flat and white into Eddie's hand. "Dude, don't forget this," the boy said. Turning to Chrissy, he added with a grin, "I swear, he meets a pretty girl and next thing you know, he's forgetting his own head."

"Thank you, Henderson," Eddie said loudly and pointedly, poking the boy with the white thing and pushing him back inside, before letting the door slam shut. "Sorry about that," he said to Chrissy with an apologetic smile, and started unfolding the white thing, section by section.

"What's that for?" Chrissy asked, pointing at the thing, which she now recognized as a cane.

"What's what for?"

She couldn't tell if he was being obtuse on purpose or not, but she was getting a little annoyed. "The cane," she said.

"Oh, just in case," Eddie said with a shrug. He still hadn't taken his sunglasses off.

"Just in case of what?"

An awkward silence stretched between them as Eddie leaned on the fully unfolded cane. He stared at her—or at least Chrissy thought he was staring at her.

"Chrissy, I'm blind," he said.

Chrissy thought she'd misheard. "What?" she asked blankly.

"You don't know that?"

"No!"

"Didn't Nancy tell you?"

"She didn't tell me anything, only that you run the Dungeons and Dragons club at UIC." Chrissy felt like she was living in some horrible sitcom. It all made sense now, the dark glasses in the evening, the fact that he didn't drive...

"You sure?" Eddie asked, a strain in his voice.

"Yes! I think I would've remembered if she told me you were blind!" And I would kill her for not telling me, she thought.

Eddie's full lips pressed together into a hard line. "Look, we don't have to do this," he said. "Just give me the word and I'll walk away, OK?" He turned to go.

Something made Chrissy reach out and grab his arm. "No! It's not that—I don't want you to go." She looked more closely at Eddie. He had been so nice to the kids. What is it that people say, about children and animals being the best judge of character...? And he was really cute, even when angry. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just—I've never gone out with a blind guy before."

"Most girls don't want to," Eddie said, still looking sullen.

That was when Chrissy made her decision. "Well, I'm not most girls."

Eddie's face softened when he realized what she was saying. "But—a pretty girl like you—you must have guys hanging around you all the time—"

"I can assure you I don't," Chrissy said honestly. "And how do you know if I'm pretty or not?" she asked, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth despite herself.

"You sound pretty," he said simply, without any attempt at being flirtatious. How could she not be charmed by that?

"And to think, I put so much effort into my outfit too," she said.

Eddie grinned then, a quick, sudden smile that lit up his whole face like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, showing two dimples on his cheeks. "I'm sure you look great," he said. "So where are we going then?"

A sudden idea hit Chrissy. "Tell you what," she said. "If you can guess which hand I'm holding up, then you can pick where we go." She raised her right hand.

Eddie tilted his head, as if he was really trying to see. "... Left?" he guessed.

"How did you do that?!" Chrissy said, quickly putting her hand down. She hoped she sounded believably surprised.

"I didn't get it, did I?" said Eddie, laughing. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not! You really did get it!" Chrissy protested, but she laughed as well. She hadn't laughed like that with anyone in so long. Certainly not with Jason.

"OK," Eddie said. "I guess I won then. Have you been to Chinatown?"

"No."

"Perfect! So we're going to Chinatown."

"Um, Eddie?"

"Yes?"

Chrissy touched a finger to her lips. And then, remembering Eddie couldn't see her, she said, "Your fangs?"

"Oops." Those mischievous dimples dipped and rose again, making him look like an impish boy, as he pulled off the plastic fangs and slipped them into a pocket. "Let's go!"

***

Chinatown was only a few blocks from the store, so they walked. Eddie kept his glasses on and used the cane, though Chrissy could see that it was more for the benefits of others than himself—he walked confidently, his strides slow but steady, without hesitation at any turn or crossing. On the way, Eddie told her about his work at the store and the guitar lessons with the kids, about his band, Corroded Coffin—which he invited her to see—and about his studies at UIC and how he hoped to become a teacher one day. "Or become the Stevie Wonders of heavy metal, who knows," he added with a chuckle.

For her part, Chrissy said little. She simply enjoyed listening to Eddie, fascinated by how fun and interesting his life was. And a sense of shame crept over her, as it always did whenever she compared herself with someone else. Even Eddie could manage to lead such a full life with his disability, yet here she was, trembling at the simple thought of going out to eat, or meeting someone new...

Then they arrived, and the sights and sounds and smells of Chinatown drove the worries from her mind. They walked through the big, colorful gate, down the main street strung with red lanterns, past buildings with curved roofs and stone lions flanking their doors, past murals of Chinese warriors and dragons coiling in clouds or waves, before turning left and heading toward the big square. Chrissy could see why Eddie loved the place. Even if you can't see, there are plenty here to engage your other senses—from the lively music flowing out from every store front, to the cries of the street vendors hawking their wares, from the mouth-watering smell rising from the snack stalls to the presence of hundreds of other people surrounding them, all enjoying themselves.

"Do you want to eat in a restaurant, or do you want street food?" asked Eddie.

Chrissy had no idea what Chinese street food would be like, but she liked the atmosphere of the square too much to want to sit down in a restaurant away from it. "Street food, please," she said boldly.

So that was what they did, getting a to-go box of dim-sum—both steamed and fried, sweet and savory—and sharing it while ambling around. Chrissy found the idea of eating on the street strangely liberating. In a restaurant, she was always conscious of other people watching what she ate—or didn't eat—but here, almost everybody was eating while walking and shopping and talking, children clutching skewers of grilled meat, teenagers giggling over pork buns and egg tarts, elderly ladies slurping from bowls of noodle as they people-watched. It relaxed her so much that she even fed Eddie a few pieces of dim-sum, and let him feed her a few in return.

They continued to talk. Chrissy discovered that she and Eddie had more in common than she realized—he came from Indiana as well, though his hometown was even smaller than hers. She also learned that he went blind due to a rare genetic disorder, and that he got a scholarship to UIC.

"But I've been talking too much," Eddie said suddenly. "Tell me something about yourself."

"You don't want to hear about me," she said with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm boring."

"I'm sure you're not. Nancy told me you're a cheerleader."

"I was a cheerleader. In high school."

"That's really cool."

Chrissy was silent. How could she tell him that she didn't like that part of her and that she wished to leave it behind?

"And you're in health studies now?" Eddie prompted.

"Yes. I want to apply for nursing school, but—" Chrissy stopped herself.

"But what?"

Chrissy hesitated. She hadn't planned on telling Eddie about her fears, yet something about him calmed her and made her want to open up to him.

"I don't know. What if I'm not cut out for it?" she said. "I know the cliché, how would I know if I don't try and so on, but still." She sighed. "I must sound so lame, right?"

"Why would you say that?" Eddie asked, all serious.

"Well, here I am, worrying about a program I don't even have the courage to apply for, while you've done so much with your life..." Eddie was quiet, and she trailed off, wondering if she might have offended him.

After a while, he said, "I was terrified too, when I first moved here." He shrugged. "Heck, I'm still terrified now, sometimes. But I remember what my uncle told me, after I went blind."

"How old were you?" Chrissy asked, looking at him.

"I was six."

She went quiet, her heart aching in sympathy at the thought of Eddie losing his sight so young. How afraid and lost he must have felt! She also wondered why he mentioned his uncle instead of his mom or dad, but decided it was a question she could save for later.

"And what did your uncle say?"

"He told me to just put one foot in front of another and forget everything else." As if he could sense her gaze, Eddie turned and gave her a smile, making her stomach flip.

Chrissy was still running those simple words through her head when a drumroll at the end of the street drew her attention. Following the crowd, they came to a storefront festooned with red ribbons and blazing with lanterns. Three people wearing a half-lion, half-dragon costume were dancing to the drums, trying to reach a ball hanging over the store's front door, under a banner that proclaimed "Three Happiness Restaurant - GRAND OPENING" in English and Chinese.

"It's a grand opening of a restaurant," Chrissy explained to Eddie, over the deafening sound of drums and cymbals. "They're performing some sort of dance."

"I bet it's a lion dance."

"How do you know?"

"I've heard of them. Is there a bunch of guys dressed in a lion costume?"

"Yes, but it doesn't look much like a lion. Looks more like a dragon." She tried to describe to him how the lion's eyelids could actually move, and how the sequins and spangles on its head and body flashed and sparkled in time with the music, giving the impression that it was a real, living thing. She thought she was doing a terrible job of it, but Eddie seemed fascinated. He tilted his head toward the dancers and tapped his foot along with the drums.

"I've never seen a lion dance," he said. "I've always assumed that they looked like, you know, actual lions. Your description sounds much better."

Now the dancers were standing on each other's shoulder to catch the ball in the lion's mouth. The crowd surged forward. Chrissy found herself holding Eddie's elbow automatically, drawing him close to her, supporting him, so he wouldn't be jostled. A cheer went up as the lion caught the ball, and fireworks exploded over their heads.

Eddie lifted his face toward the sky, the colorful sparks reflected in his glasses.

"Can you—see it?" Chrissy asked. She almost bit her tongue off, realizing how idiotic she'd sounded. Of course he couldn't see.

Eddie didn't seem to notice her blunder. "I can feel it," he said.

Chrissy looked up as well, but she didn't watch the fireworks. She looked at Eddie, at the shape of his jawline, at his lips slightly opened, and wondered what it would feel like to kiss those lips. She thought about how afraid she'd been the past year, away from home, away from her family and friends, away from everything she'd ever known, how terrifying it all was. Now, standing here with this guy whom she'd only just met yet felt like she'd known for a long time, she started to realize how freeing it had all been, and would continue to be. And for the first time, she no longer felt ashamed when she compared herself to another. Instead, she felt—encouraged. If Eddie could do all he'd done and more, then what was holding her back?

***

Eddie insisted on walking her back to the dorm, since he lived only a few blocks away. Chrissy didn't protest. She didn't want the night to end, but if it had to end, then she wanted to spend as much of the remaining time with him as possible.

She had never felt like this about anyone, not even Jason. Her excitement after their first date had all been because of herself, her vanity, her naïve dream of the future. But this, with Eddie, was nothing like the headiness of that fourteen-year-old girl. There was a calm certainty in her feelings for him—she'd heard people say that when you meet the right person, you'd just know. Well, she knew now. She wouldn't call it love just yet, but he made her feel warm and safe, and she never wanted those feelings to go away.

Chrissy was almost sorry when they approached the dorm entrance. She was trying to come up with an excuse to invite Eddie inside—not to her room, where Nancy was no doubt still frowning over her article, but to the lounge, perhaps—when a figure stepped out of the shadow and blocked their way.

Chrissy's heart dropped like a lead weight.

It was Jason.

He still looked as she remembered him—clean-cut, handsome in a varsity jacket bearing his school's colors and his name on the chest, utterly charming. That was the terrible thing. After all this time, she'd expected him to look threatening or sinister, but even here, on this darkened street, he still looked like the boy she'd once thought she loved, and she knew, he only had to say the right thing, pushed the right button, and she'd come running back to him...

"Hi, Chris," Jason said, like they just happened to run into each other on the quad.

Chrissy stood stock still, frozen by fear and panic, her mouth clamped shut. She was afraid that if she responded to him, he would be able to draw her back, like in some twisted fairy tale.

"Listen, I just want to talk, OK?" Jason continued in a placating tone. "I may have been a little—hasty, but you're overreacting to a ridiculous degree! Leaving your family, leaving everything you know behind, and for what? This has gone on long enough. Come home, Chris."

His tone and the diminutive, dismissive "Chris" irritated Chrissy, and the irritation wiped away some of her fear. He'd always talked to her like that whenever she tried to tell him something made her uncomfortable or argue against his opinion, like he knew best and she knew nothing at all. He sounded just like her mother.

"Chrissy, you OK?" Eddie's voice broke through the haze, and his hand found hers, giving her strength. "Who is it?"

Jason hadn't even deigned to look at Eddie, as if he considered Eddie not worth his attention. Now he turned to Eddie and took in the cane, the glasses, their hands clasping each other tightly, and his lips curled up in an ugly sneer.

"Seriously, Chris?" he said to Chrissy. "You dumped me for a blind—freak?"

Eddie might not have recognized Jason's condescending tone toward Chrissy, but this he noticed. "Hey man," he said, stepping forward to shield Chrissy from Jason, "I don't know who you think you are, but I don't appreciate your tone—"

"Shut up," snapped Jason. "I'm here to talk to my girlfriend."

Finally, Chrissy found her voice. Walking out from behind Eddie, she looked straight at Jason and said, "No, Jason. You shut up. I'm not your girlfriend anymore. It's been a year. We have nothing to talk about. And if you don't leave me alone, leave us alone, if I ever see you around campus again, I'm going to call the police and file a restraining order against you. I don't think a stalking charge would look good on your record, do you? Now get the fuck out of my sight!"

Under the yellow streetlamp, Jason's face turned a peculiar shade of green. Chrissy's voice had drawn some attention. It was late, but this being Friday night, there were still plenty of students mingling around, and some were turning toward the three of them with curiosity and interest. Jason glanced at the onlookers and back to Chrissy again. He opened his mouth then closed it again several times, looking like a hooked fish. Finally, he backed away from them and took off running toward the train station. He soon disappeared into the dark.

Chrissy's heart, frozen in fear before, now started to beat wildly from relief and elation. Eddie gave her fingers a squeeze. His hand moved up her arm and her shoulder, and when he noticed how much she was trembling, he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. With his other hand, he took off his denim vest and draped it over her quivering shoulders.

"You're OK," he said quietly. "It's OK now."

Chrissy clung to him, breathing in his scent of leather and smoke and a woody fragrance that he must have picked up from the store—it was what she imagined a new acoustic guitar would smell like—and felt her trembles subside. But even when she had quieted down, Eddie kept his arms around her.

"So that was your ex?" he asked.

Chrissy nodded. Then, remembering that Eddie couldn't see her, she said, "Yes," her voice muffled from under his leather jacket.

"A piece of work, isn't he?"

"I wasted five years of my life with him."

"At least you're free of him now."

She let out a shaky laugh. "I can't believe I swore at him like that."

"Maybe you're stronger than you think."

She lifted her head to look at Eddie. He was smiling, showing those dimples that she had come to love—yes, love—and she could feel calmness radiating from him like a warm fire, burning away the cold fear in her.

"Let me walk you home," she said. "I think I've scared Jason away for now, but who knows what he may do..."

Eddie's face turned serious. "You think he may be lying in wait for me?"

Chrissy didn't think Jason was capable of that. She wanted to believe that he loved his reputation and his image much more than he loved her, and he would not risk those for anything. But she would rather not find out.

"I want to make sure you're safe," she said.

A little smile hovered over Eddie's lips, shy and incredulous, quite different from the mischievous grin he'd just had. "I'll stick to the main streets, I'll be fine," he said. "But what about you? What if he's lying in wait for you?"

She was touched by his concern, but that didn't alleviate her concern. "Let me call you a cab at least," she insisted.

"Cabbie would say it's faster to walk. It's literally only ten minutes away."

Chrissy sighed. If she had the dorm room to herself, she would ask him to stay the night in a heartbeat. Besides, it was too late to sign him in now. And then she thought about the possibility of spending the night with Eddie and was almost glad he couldn't see the crimson blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Nancy has a car," she said finally. "I'll ask her to drive you home."

Eddie still looked hesitant. "Are you sure? I don't want to bother—"

"It's no bother. Come in for a minute while I get her."

Nancy was furious when Chrissy told her about Jason's latest antics. "What a creep!" she exploded. "I wish I'd called the police on him when he showed up last time. Good for you for kicking his ass though," she added to Chrissy with something like a maternal pride, which Chrissy had never gotten from her own mother.

Nancy readily agreed to drive them to Eddie's apartment—Chrissy suspected she wanted a distraction from her work. Chrissy sat in the back with Eddie, and several times, she caught Nancy watching them in the rearview mirror and smiling to herself from time to time. Chrissy glared at her. To her credit, Nancy never said a word except to ask Eddie for his address, and "Here we are!" when they arrived at Eddie's apartment building—an old brownstone just behind the South Campus—not more than five minutes later.

"Thanks for the ride, Wheeler," Eddie said, getting out and giving Nancy's shoulder a friendly pat, by way of saying goodbye.

Chrissy hesitated. Should she say goodbye here, or should she walk him to his door? The guy is usually the one walking the girl to her door, isn't he? What would the etiquette be in this case?

Thankfully, Nancy saw her wavering. "Go ahead," she said, nodding at Chrissy with that same knowing smile. "I'll wait in the car."

Chrissy ran after Eddie, who was halfway up the front steps.

"Eddie," she said. "Don't forget your jacket." She pressed the jean vest into his hand.

"You keep it," he said. "So I have an excuse to see you again." The grin was back, shy and playful at the same time, and Chrissy melted in its warmth.

"I'm so sorry our date was ruined," she said.

"It's not your fault. And nothing was ruined. I had a great time."

"Me too. Thank you." Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was waiting, but she didn't want to say goodbye, not yet. She went up a few steps until she could see her reflection in his glasses. "Eddie?"

"Yes?"

"Can I—do you mind taking off your glasses? I want to see your eyes." She wondered if she was being intrusive, but Eddie only said, "Oh, of course!" He lifted his glasses into his curls, and Chrissy fell quiet as she took in his eyes.

Eddie's eyes were dark brown, the largest, softest brown eyes she'd ever seen, fringed by enviably long lashes. They looked blank, as expected, and even though the expressiveness of the rest of his face more than made up for it, her heart still twisted when she imagined how wonderful he would've looked, how alive his face would've been, if those eyes could see.

"They're beautiful," she said.

"I'd rather that they were functional rather than beautiful, but hey, you have to take what you can get, right?"

Chrissy realized she'd misspoken again. "I'm so sorry," she said, feeling wretched. "I didn't mean—"

"No, no," Eddie quickly said, taking her hand to assure her that he wasn't offended. "I was just joking."

Chrissy took another step up. They were now so close that she could count the freckles across the bridge of his nose, even in the dim light over his front door. "Can I kiss you?" she asked, a little breathless.

Eddie's own breath caught. "No one's ever asked me that before," he said.

"I've never asked that of anyone before either."

Eddie smiled. "I guess that made this the first for both of us." Then he sobered, realizing the weight of this moment. "I'd love a kiss from you." He leaned closer and turned his head slightly, putting his cheek toward her.

It was then that Chrissy realized he was expecting a goodnight kiss on the cheek, a chaste kiss between friends. And she also realized she had no interest in being friendly or chaste.

Pressing a finger to his jaw, she turned him to face her and put a kiss on his lips.

A moment's hesitation as Eddie was caught by surprise, then his mouth parted, welcoming, responsive, and he was kissing her back, slowly but surely. His lips were just as soft as she'd imagined them, and when he lifted a hand to her face, caressing her jaw and cheek, as if trying to feel the kiss with all of his senses, she forgot everything else but him and those lips under hers.

"Are you smiling?" he said as they pulled apart to draw breath. His fingers still continued their gentle quest across her face, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

"I am." Her smile widened, and she saw it reflected on Eddie's face.

"That's a good sign, isn't it?"

"Very good." His fingertips grazed her lips. She kissed them, and because that wasn't enough, never enough, she leaned in for another lingering kiss on his mouth.

Even when they pulled apart, Eddie kept his arms around her. "Chrissy?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"Can I see you—" Realizing what he was saying, Eddie chuckled sheepishly, and Chrissy grinned as well. "I mean," he corrected himself, "can we go on another—"

Chrissy didn't let him finish. "I'd love to," she said, and kissed him again for good measure.

She didn't know how long they stood there, arms and bodies and lips intertwined, until she remembered that Nancy was still waiting for her.

"I have to go," she said and reluctantly let go of Eddie.

"Sunday, then?" Eddie asked, as he walked slowly through the door, still holding on to her fingers.

"Sunday." She squeezed his hand to reassure him and watched until he was safely inside, before running down to the car.

"Thanks for waiting, Nancy," Chrissy said.

"No worries," said Nancy with the proud look of someone who knew they had done a good job. "I know what it's like."

"What was your first date with Jonathan like?" asked Chrissy. Nancy was so competent, so serious that Chrissy had always been slightly intimidated by her. Now she was glad to be able to have some girl talk with Nancy, as shallow as that made her.

"We didn't really have one," said Nancy, a wry smile twisting her mouth as she remembered. "We were on an assignment together, and it just—sort of happened. So when are you seeing Eddie again?"

"Sunday."

Nancy's eyebrows went up. "That soon?"

Usually, this would set Chrissy down another path of self-doubt, making her worry that she was moving too fast or being too easy. But now, still feeling Eddie's touches on her hands and her lips, still wrapped in his warmth from the denim vest draped around herself, and with his words still lingering in her mind, she no longer worried.

Put one foot in front of the other and forget everything else.

"Not soon enough for me," she said, and smiled at Nancy's astonished face.

So I got the inspiration for this from a viral video of a guy going on a blind date only to find out that his date was actually blind (I lifted some of the dialogue from the video.) Even though the video was apparently staged, it's quite cute and feels very Hellcheer. However, I decided to flip it around and make Eddie the blind one instead of Chrissy, because I like the idea of Eddie still being so full of life despite his disability that he manages to inspire Chrissy as well.

It's a one-shot for now, but I love writing Blind Eddie so there may be more stories for him in the future!

[cuffmeinblack]

Lost and Found

Garreth Weasley x Ominis Gaunt

Tags: explicit | modern!AU | fluff | angst | loss of virginity | homophobia | heartbreak | happy ending

5.4k words

ao3 link

Summary: A love story told in five scenes.

A/n: Inspired by this art and written for the Weasley Wednesday prompt: AU! It's been a while since I wrote Garrinis and I've missed them a whole lot. It's hard for me to write anything but fluff with these two because Ominis deserves the world and Garreth is perfect to shower him with love and happiness. Still, I managed to make myself sad writing it.

One: You Had Me At Hello

"Garreth…Garreth, you're staring again," Cora's voice came from behind him.

"Wha- oh, shit!" 

Garreth's attention returned to the drink he was making, or rather making a mess of. That was one coffee he'd have to start again, much to the chagrin of both the customer and his supervisor. 

"Garreth," Cora sighed. "You can't spend all day staring at him."

He nodded and muttered an apology,  giving the customer a friendly smile as he picked up a fresh mug, but she was too distracted herself to notice. It had been three times in as many weeks that his eyes had wandered away from his job, and instead of his world-class coffee, he'd produced a syrupy, foamy mess all over his apron. Somewhat a fitting conclusion, considering the source of his disturbance and the absolutely lewd daydreams he'd been having.

Garreth couldn't take his eyes off him—goodness knows the blond was way out of his league and would likely turn up his nose so much as utter a single word to him, but that hadn't dissuaded Garreth from indulging in his fantasies. Ones where the boy's delicate, porcelain skin blushed under his own calloused and freckled fingers. He wondered what his voice sounded like, and that thought almost cost him the second macchiato he'd been making. Thankfully, he'd torn his eyes away just in time to deliver a mediocre drink to his loyal customer. He could practically feel Cora's eyes burning into the back of his skull.

"Take your break and go talk to him," she said, nudging him away from the counter.

"I'm not…I can't just go and talk to him…"

"Consider it a condition of your employment."

Garreth sighed, glancing back at her dark stare and crossed arms and deciding against an argument—she was deadly serious. He untied his apron and strung it over a hook in the staff room before steeling himself to do the impossible. What was wrong with him? He'd never felt this nervous around someone he found attractive before. Something about this mystery boy had his stomach in knots before he'd even come close to uttering a greeting, and when the time came that he stood in front of his table, Garreth was quite speechless.

He was even more radiant up close. The hint of blue eyes were cast down at a book as his delicate fingers traced over the…oh. There were no words on the pages, and only then did Garreth notice the white cane leaning next to the table.

Shit.

Well that certainly complicated things. Garreth was a decent looking bloke but now he had to entirely rely on his wit and charm. He was doomed. He must have stood there gaping for minutes before he summoned the courage to clear his throat.

"Er…hello," he said.

The boy continued reading, and Garreth cringed at his attempt at gaining his attention. Stepping closer to the table, he tried again, aware of Cora's scrutinising gaze on him from across the room.

"Hi! Sorry…," he mumbled.

The blond finally tilted his head towards his voice, revealing the most captivating blue eyes Garreth had ever seen. Devoid of pupils, they struck him as two swirling pools of crystal waters, icy hues with flecks of softest grey. 

"Ah, yes, of course," the boy said, pushing his empty mug to the edge of the table.

Garreth had been too busy bumbling and losing himself in his eyes like some lovesick puppy, he'd somehow given the impression of being a member of staff. Well, technically that were true, but that's not why he'd approached. He should have said something, but apparently this boy rendered him completely and utterly useless.

"Thanks!" Garreth squeaked back, taking the mug and retreating behind the counter with a furious blush and a whole heap of embarrassment.

To say he'd never seen Cora more annoyed at him would have been an overstatement, but the way her pale face pinched into a frown only heightened his unease.

"He uh…thought I was staff," he mumbled.

"Yes, I can see that," she said, staring at the mug still clutched in his hand as if it were a priceless artifact.

"I swear to God, Garreth…if you don't talk to him properly I'll fire you."

"You wouldn't. What about my loyal customers? There'd be uproar!" he replied, only half joking.

"You're not irreplaceable, especially if you can't make a simple drink in his vicinity," she said, snatching the mug away.

Her attention diverted to serve a nervous young lady who'd obviously overheard the entirely unprofessional exchange. With a groan, Garreth steeled himself to again approach the source of his distraction. He didn't have a plan, as with most things, but at least he could put right his first mistake.

"Hello again! Sorry to disturb you, I uh…well, I wanted to say hello. I'm Garreth," he said, sticking out his hand which lingered awkwardly in the air.

Of course it was, he couldn't see it. Idiot.

Garreth lowered his hand and helped himself to a spare seat opposite the boy, who's finger paused on the raised bumps of his book. Heavens above, what was it about him that made Garreth so bloody nervous? Was it the way he held himself so elegantly? Those piercing eyes that couldn't see but appeared to stare right into Garreth's soul? The blond gave off an aura of propriety—he practically oozed old money. Not Garreth's usual type, considering his own scruffiness that never seemed able to be tamed. His wild, curly copper locks were in stark contrast to the boy's slicked back mane with not a strand out of place…except that little piece that fell in front of his eyes when he bent his head…oh. Shit, he'd replied. Say something, Garreth!

"Uhhhhh…"

"I said hello, Garreth," the boy repeated with a soft, amused smile. "I'm Ominis. How can I help?"

Ominis. He had a name, which was far more than Garreth deserved so far with his poor attempt at introduction. Of course he had the voice of an angel; how could he not when everything else about him was so utterly perfect?

"I thought I'd say hello. I've noticed you in here quite a lot."

"You have?" Ominis asked, placing his hands in his lap and giving Garreth his full attention.

"Yeah…you're one of the few customers that doesn't drink coffee," Garreth chuckled.

"Ah, is that the reason? I confess I'm more of a tea drinker, but I enjoy the ambience here," he said.

"Maybe you'd enjoy coffee more if I made it for you," Garreth said, his confidence growing.

"You're certainly welcome to try," Ominis chuckled.

His soft, melodic laugh sent a tingle down Garreth's spine.

"I will, next time you're here I'll make you the best coffee you've ever tasted."

"I look forward to being converted. So, Garreth…do you do anything besides make excellent beverages?"

"Oh, yeah. I study here, this is only a part-time job. I'm guessing you're a student, too?"

"I am. English literature," he said, though he didn't seem elated at the idea. "How about you?"

"Chemistry ...oh, and I'm in a band."

He cringed inwardly, and outwardly, too—that line always sounded so cool when he told it to girls, but somehow when presenting this information to Ominis it sounded...ridiculous. Juvenile. If Ominis thought so, he didn't show it, only smiling good-naturedly.

"What music do you play?"

"Nothing you're likely to enjoy…"

"How could you possibly know what music I enjoy?"

"Well…I suppose I don't. Only that you don't exactly dress like someone who listens to punk rock," Garreth replied lamely.

"Perhaps not, but it makes very little difference to me what I look like."

"Right…of course…"

"I enjoy most music, as long as there's feeling."

Garreth almost opened his big mouth to ask if Ominis would consider letting him play for him, but was saved the embarrassment by Cora's stern voice cutting through the dreamlike haze telling him to get back to work.

"I have to get back to work. Can I…?"

Ominis handed Garreth his phone before he could even finish the sentence, and Garreth grinned as he accepted it, typing in his number whilst wondering if he'd hear from him at all. Perhaps he was simply being polite, but the eagerness Ominis had shown was hard to conceal behind good manners.

"Lovely to meet you Garreth…?" 

"Weasley. Garreth Weasley."

"I'm Ominis Gaunt."

Perhaps the name should have meant something to him, the way Ominis hesitated to say it, but all Garreth could think of for the rest of the day was the beautiful boy with the strange name.

-

Two: The Odd Couple

Ominis hadn't expected Garreth. He'd sprung out of nowhere when he least expected it, and made ripples through his otherwise stagnant life. Not just ripples, but a veritable tidal wave that dislodged Ominis from his melancholy and carried him to safer shores. One might be surprised to learn of Ominis and Garreth's relationship, but only when looking skin-deep. Apparently, their appearance was chalk and cheese, and their demeanours just as contrasting—and so, people called them odd.

Ominis disagreed wholeheartedly. 

How could they be odd if their hands fit together so perfectly? How could they be strange when Garreth never failed to bring a smile to Ominis' face? The muscles in his cheeks felt as if they had atrophied from years of non-use, until Garreth came along and provided him with much needed laughter. Ominis hadn't realised just how much he enjoyed the warmth of another body before Garreth had held him. In the space of three months, he'd learned so much about himself, by simply being around Garreth. 

And yes, he liked coffee now. But only when Garreth made it. One of his new favourite smells was the dark roast currently steaming in the mug he was cradling, the other happened to be the smell of cinammon and a hint of sulphur. Garreth's lab coat always gave off the most pungent odours after his classes, but it was still him.

Garreth was sitting on the floor of his bedroom as he often did, strumming his guitar. Today's composition was something pleasantly slow, a little sad, and terribly romantic. He could already feel the buildup of pressure behind his eyes that signalled an embarrassing show of emotion he tried hard to suppress, and the swell in his chest he so often associated with his boyfriend. He sipped his coffee and listened, allowing himself to feel anything and everything that the song's sweet melody elicited. As the last chord vibrated in the air between them, Ominis shifted on the bed and sighed, offering Garreth a soft smile.

"Beautiful," he said. “I could listen to your voice forever.”

“Hardly, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

The clunk of a guitar discarded against the wall preceded the warm and heavy weight of Garreth pressing between his legs, still kneeling on the floor. Warm hands encircled Ominis’s back as Garreth’s head was nestled into his thighs. Ominis smiled as he stroked those silken curls; another thing he'd not expected to enjoy quite so much. The rhythmic back and forth of his hand and the happy hums from his boyfriend let his mind wander, back to what he’d been mulling over during that rendition. Something terrifying and exciting that he craved more than anything.

Sex.

Three months was a long time to wait by anyone's standards, especially two men still riddled with teenage hormones. Garreth had been more than patient. It wasn't that Ominis didn't want to—very much the opposite. The days spent in each other's company were hard, but all the nights crammed into a single bed together were nothing short of agony. His heart yearned and his body ached for Garreth, yet so far he'd been a coward. Ominis had never been intimate with a soul; never had he allowed anyone else to touch him at his most vulnerable. It was a matter of trust to give oneself over to another completely, and whilst he trusted Garreth implicitly, Ominis had failed to gather the courage to ask for more.

Until tonight.

"Garreth?"

"Mhmmm?" he hummed happily from Ominis' lap.

"I'd like to sleep with you," Ominis said, trying to ignore his hammering heart.

"Of course. Let me just change the sheets…"

"No, I mean…"

"Oh."

No further explanation was required. Ominis felt the bed dip either side of him and Garreth's soft lips on his before he could draw another breath. His firm body pressed against him, warm and inviting under the numerous layers he wore. He'd have to dispose of those, once his hands stopped shaking. Garreth had all the restraint in the world as he peeled off Ominis' jumper, running slow kisses along his jaw, his neck, tongue finding his thumping pulse. Ominis tilted his head, so lost in his lips' caress that he hardly noticed his hands begin to unbutton Garreth's jeans or the rhythmic rocking of their hips.

Months of teasing and simmering tension had led to this moment; little wonder they were both stiff within seconds. The friction between their bodies set his body on fire, every inch restricted by these damned clothes felt like a prison when his skin burned to be pressed bare against Garreth's. His shirt was gently peeled from his shoulders and the fabric replaced by soft lips that tempted and teased. When Garreth nibbled his collarbone, Ominis lost all sense of self as he fell back on the bed and harshly shoved his own trousers down his hips. Gone was his calm, collected exterior; instead he lay bare, gasping and desperate to be touched.

"Garreth…," he sighed as the warm, gentle kisses trailed down his chest.

His muffled reply came as a hand wrapped around Ominis' cock and the most improper whimper left his lips. His world may have ended the moment he was enveloped by a warm, wet mouth. Garreth pulled salacious moans from him over and over again as his tongue flicked and swirled and whipped Ominis into a frenzy. His hands were in his hair, the sheets, grabbing anything he could as his hips bucked wildly into that amazing mouth, hitting the tight ring of muscle on more than one occasion. Garreth didn't seem to mind as he simply growled his approval whenever Ominis' cock slid down his throat. He needed to stop before he exploded right then and there, but how could he when it felt so good, so right, so utterly perfect?

"Stop, ah-! Stop, or I'll come," he managed to groan.

Garreth stirred in his lap, muffled moans vibrating against his length until his deliciously soft mouth left his cock with a pop. Ominis groaned, regretting his decision already, until Garreth's hoarse whisper filled his ears.

"Do you want to…take me, or…?"

Oh, yes. But more than anything, Ominis wanted to be on the receiving end of Garreth's touches. Underneath him, pressed into the mattress as his mouth and hands explored every inch they could reach whilst his cock buried deep inside him. He'd experimented, certainly, but his albeitly long fingers would be no substitute for what he knew Garreth sported in his trousers.

"I want you inside me."

His boyfriend growled with uncontained lust and Ominis' heart found its way into his mouth, suddenly apprehensive, nervous that Garreth might lose himself too soon. He needn't have worried—his caress was featherlight despite the heaviness of his breath and throbbing of his cock against Ominis' thigh. 

"I'm going to get some lube now, okay?" Garreth said.

Ominis nodded, listening to the rummaging in the nightstand drawer. Those strong, calloused hands spread his legs, exposing him completely, yet he felt safe. Garreth was so gentle, whispering in his ear and exchanging sloppy kisses as his fingers teased and prepared him. Ominis arched his back and wriggled his hips for more, please. Garreth sensed his impatience and gave him a long, searing kiss as his fingers retreated, and replaced them with something far larger.

"Let me know if you want me to stop," Garreth whispered.

"I will. But I won't."

"Are you ready?" 

"Yes…yes, please," Ominis gasped, surprising himself with just how pleading his tone was.

Garreth groaned into his mouth, his fingers in Ominis' hair as he pushed inside him. Fuck, it stung, but heavens above he felt incredible. He'd so far been trying to keep his audible pleasure as muted as possible, but the moan that left his lips vibrated off the walls and filled the room and surely far beyond. The last of his composure broke down as Garreth buried himself to the hilt, his hand cupping Ominis’ face as their foreheads pressed together. This was intimacy as he’d never known it; their noses brushed and soft sighs mingled in the air between them as Garreth let Ominis adjust to his size and relax around him.

“How does that feel?” Garreth murmured against his lips.

“Incredible. You’re incredible.”

Not ‘you feel incredible’, just ‘you are incredible’. Perhaps that was the closest he’d gotten to admitting his true feelings, which were both terrifying and all-consuming. 

Three months, twelve days. 

That’s how long it had taken Ominis to admit to himself that he was in love with Garreth Weasley.

-

Three: The Fall

Ominis couldn't help but smile whenever his phone read the words 'incoming call from- Garreth Weasley'. Perhaps he was a fool for falling so hard, so fast. He ought to rein in his feelings, lest he end up with a broken heart, yet Garreth was so easy to love. When Ominis was with him, he could forget the rest of the world; all of his worries, every crushing pressure that threatened to break his already fragile heart. 

Ominis was no fool—he knew how others must view him. They saw his clothes, heard his name, and immediately thought they'd sussed him out as another spoiled trust fund kid with far too much money and very little else to offer. Some days, Ominis believed them. What would he be without his family, after all? A poor blind boy with a brilliant mind, but born into a cruel world rife with discrimination. Garreth only saw the Ominis he wished that he himself could perceive. 

Ominis answered the phone the way he always did.

"Hello, sunshine."

The nickname seemed so befitting for Garreth that he found it hard to be embarrassed about it.

"Omi! Can you meet me after work? I have a surprise for you," his slightly fuzzy voice came through the speaker, no less beautiful amongst the static.

"Of course—five?"

"Yep, I'll see you then!"

"Was that all?" Ominis asked.

"I have to get back to work. Cora's on my arse to finish my break..."

"You know you could have just texted me?"

"Then I wouldn't have been able to hear your voice."

Ominis' cheeks burned as he exhaled a contained chuckle through his nose. 

"I'm glad you did. See you later."

I love you.

Instead of saying that, he hung up. Perhaps the first time shouldn't be over the phone—it should be somewhere and sometime more befitting the gravity of the words. When Ominis was curled up in Garreth's arms after spending the night together, maybe. He'd had plenty of those, yet the words hadn't materialised. No matter, there was still plenty of time. 

He had a couple of lectures to attend before meeting Garreth, but still time to pop by the library for a few much-needed books. He'd picked a challenging subject considering many of the books he'd study weren't available in braille. Some were available as audio books, and some had been miraculously made available to him by the good graces of the University—or rather, his father's heavy influence and deep pockets.

His phone vibrated in his coat as he walked the steps up to the library, and the robotic voice announced something far less desirable than a call from Garreth.

Speak of the devil…

'Incoming call from- Father.'

His gut twisted as it always did when he was forced to talk to his family. It would be unwise for him to simply ignore the call, as much as he wished to. With a great sigh, he sat down on a low brick wall and readied himself before answering the annoying buzzing with a terse greeting.

"Father. How can I help?"

"Ominis. How are you?"

As if he cared.

"I'm fine. How are you?"

As if he cared.

"Very well. I'm calling in regards to a rumour I've heard regarding your conduct."

"My conduct," Ominis stated bluntly.

"Yes, your conduct. How you conduct yourself about the University. Your company has raised some concerns."

"My my, father, if you have something to say then please be out with it," Ominis said, not sure we're his sudden confidence was coming from.

Perhaps it had bubbled up from the pit of rage in his stomach.

"You've been seen with some scruffy boy. In his dormitory, around the campus. Not only have you been indiscreet, your choice of partner leaves much to be desired."

"To whom?"

"To me, Ominis."

"And what, pray tell, is the purpose of your call?"

"You know very well. I'll not have you galavanting about with some boy like some poof."

"Ah, therein lies the problem. I am a poof."

"Despite your disappointment, you're still my son…but I will not tolerate such disrespect. I got you where you are now, boy, and I can reverse your good fortunes just as quickly. Goodbye, Ominis."

The line went dead before Ominis could spit back a retort; perhaps for the best given how furious he was—he must have been attracting quite a bit of attention. His hands were shaking such that his cane rattled on the stone pavement. Anger quickly became secondary to his fear—his father was many things, but he was not a man who issued idle threats. It didn't surprise him that he'd been keeping an eye on him whilst at University—likely under the guise of concern for his poor, blind son. Ominis knew the real reason, and his father had just made it abundantly clear with that phone call.

He must have sat on that brick wall for hours. He missed his first lecture, and decided to skip the second, retreating to his dormitory with a numb backside and an even more numb emotional state. He barely managed to get out of bed to meet Garreth after his shift. Of course he knew something was wrong with Ominis, his concern showing in the way he touched him more gently, the way his voice was softer and an octave higher. Ominis tried to put the conversation out of his mind, but how could he ignore something so life-altering? For a few hours, he put on a poor façade of contentment, whilst his mind slipped deeper into melancholy. He kissed Garreth that night as if the world was ending, and he was quite sure that it was.

-

Four: Gone

Six months. Six months it had been since his heart was ripped out of his chest and soul torn asunder. Garreth was by nature a happy person, full of optimism, but what Ominis Gaunt's departure left behind was a husk of his former self. His friends tried their best to help, but as soon as he was alone, Garreth let the darkness take him. He'd wallow for hours, days at a time, not quite knowing if he'd feel a desire to leave his bed again.

Ominis had left without a word. His phone number went straight to voicemail. His dormitory lay empty. Garreth had asked around and been told he had deferred a year, and that he would be back in September. Garreth wasn't sure if the thought comforted him or made it worse—he still wasn't sure as the month rolled around.

Things were a little better now, thanks to Cora. His job had been a godsend, truth be told, even if he couldn't help the surreptitious glances to the table that Ominis had once frequented. All Summer break, he'd thrown himself into his part-time job, his music, his art. All the little things that made him happy, despite the gaping chasm left in his chest. True, it sometimes felt hollow when he wrote a new song when Ominis wasn't there to hear it, and the drawings he made were often of him despite his best attempts at anyone, anything else. He was trying, though, and each day got a little easier…until the start of term approached.

"Don't go looking for him, Garreth," Cora said, face set into a hard stare.

"I won't," he promised.

He wouldn't go looking, but he might happen upon him whilst walking to and from lectures. Garreth wasn't sure what he wanted—perhaps just to know that Ominis was alright. He should hate him, but so far he'd not managed to muster the feeling. The first week came and went and Garreth didn't see Ominis. He didn't see him whilst crossing the courtyard outside the English building twice a day, nor in the coffee shop when he worked. He didn't find him lingering in the library or outside on the lawn in the shade of the oak tree he loved so much. If Ominis had returned, he was a ghost.

It wasn't until a week later that Garreth finally found him. He'd not even been looking, but the cane was hard to miss when it smacked into his leg.

"Ominis," he gasped, unbelieving.

The pressure built behind his eyes and his throat constricted; his heart hammered and breath grew shallow; there was no angry outburst nor demanding of an explanation, only relief and overwhelming hurt.

"G-Garreth?"

"Yeah, yeah it's me. Sorry, I'm in your way."

"You're not. Well, you are, but I'm glad you are."

A silence grew that Garreth didn't know how to fill, only able to stare at the boy he still loved and commit every edge, every mark, every pore to memory in case he didn't see him again.

"I'm so sorry," Ominis whispered.

Ah, there were the tears that followed the words he'd wanted to hear for the past six months. Garreth was weeping in the middle of campus, and he didn't care as Ominis' arms wrapped around him, hesitant and unsure. He wanted to ask him to hold him tighter, but this moment was fragile, and Garreth couldn't run the risk of breaking the spell.

"Tell me why you left, then you never have to see me again," he managed to say through the tears.

"I told you everything in my letter, it was the truth, but…things have changed, admittedly."

"What letter?"

"What do you mean? The letter I left for you before I…"

Ominis looked panicked as Garreth looked at him through bleary eyes, rapidly blinking away the tears as he tried not to follow suit.

"I didn't get a letter. Tell me you're joking."

"Why would I joke? I left you a letter explaining why I'd left. It was cowardly of me, I should have told you…you never got it? You never knew?"

"No, I never knew."

"Garreth…"

Ominis held him tighter, then, and Garreth squeezed him back. Garreth was sure his heart would soon burst from his chest or he'd simply throw up on the ground, but he managed to ask Ominis to sit with him. They sat on the grass where they'd shared their first kiss and Ominis told him everything that the letter contained. He'd pinned it to his door, but it had been taken before Garreth had a chance to read it.

"I believed my father when he said I'd amount to nothing without him. He's told me as much since the day I'd learned to talk. So I took a gap year, hoping that…you'd forget about me."

"So we can't be together because of your homophobic arsehole of a father?" Garreth asked furiously.

Ominis winced and shook his head with a sad smile.

"No, he's no longer a problem. I regretted my decision almost immediately but I admit I was too ashamed to return. I've spent the past few months working and saving enough money to cut ties with my family."

Ominis took a shaky breath before continuing, his piercing blue eyes fixed into the distance and pricked with tears of his own.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I want you to know that it was you who gave me the strength to finally say no to my father. You…you made me feel more than just a shadow of him."

Garreth sat in stunned silence for minutes just watching the passersby. His brain ached with the deluge of new information. Everything was raw, shocking, unbelievable. 

"Why didn't you find me and tell me?"

"Why would you want anything to do with me after I left?" Ominis asked.

"Because I love you. I love you and if I'd told you that maybe you wouldn't have left in the first place."

There it was; Garreth's heart laid bare. The truth he'd been too scared to tell Ominis before he left and spent half a year trying to deny. 

"I love you too, Garreth. I always will."

He wasn't sure if that changed things, not yet—there was too much to mull over, too much to consider. Garreth stayed silent, simply placing his hand on Ominis' in the long grass.

"Garreth?" Ominis whispered into the breeze.

"Mmm?"

"I'll spend the rest of my life trying to regain your trust, if you'll let me."

-

Five: Forever

Forgiveness and love were said to be fickle things. Ominis hadn't thought he'd deserved the former. The latter was implicitly given; Garreth owned his heart, and had done so since the day they had met. The turbulent and beautiful and incredible years ran through his mind as he stood outside the room that would change the course of his life forever. Perhaps it would have been easier for Garreth to walk down the aisle, but Ominis was loath to rob him of his first look—it was the least he could offer. They had planned every detail for themselves, unshackled from the demands of his family and bolstered by the love and support of Garreth’s.

Ominis chose to hold the arm of a dear friend as he walked, the comforting warmth that stayed the shake in his hand a much better prospect than his cane. Sebastian had been an excellent best man so far, even if his stag ‘do left a lot to be desired. All was forgiven as Ominis wrapped his fingers around his forearm and took a deep breath that didn't fill the depths of his lungs. 

“You’ve got this,” Sebastian muttered as the doors opened.

Why had they chosen such heart-wrenching music for this part? He was already fighting back tears and he’d barely stepped in the room. All Ominis could do was focus on his breathing and the tight grip he had around Sebastian's forearm. The walk was an eternity, made all the more agonising by the sobbing from Mrs Weasley, yet he finally made it to the end and was promptly scooped up into Garreth's arms. They'd not even exchanged vows and their lips were pressed together, holding each other as if the other might choose to bolt at the last second.

After that, it was all a blur. Words were said, tears were shed, and not one minute went by that Ominis' cheeks didn't hurt from smiling. He'd completely forgotten the vows he'd prepared, yet the right sentiments came spilling forth anyway. He'd told Garreth exactly what he meant to him; nothing short of his entire world. It was no secret what had transpired in their University years, yet it would only be mentioned briefly amongst the outpouring of love. The 'blip', as they called it, had shaped their relationship, their entire lives, but inevitably led them here. Ominis wouldn't change a thing, and neither would Garreth.

"You may now kiss," the registrar said to the eruption of cheers and claps.

Oh, thank God. Ominis clasped Garreth's cheeks so tightly he might have torn his head clean off his shoulders. Their first kiss as a wedded couple was quite the display, but Ominis couldn't quite bring himself to be embarrassed. It was hard to keep their mouths together amongst the grins spreading rapidly across their faces, and a clash of teeth later they pulled apart laughing and clasping hands.

Three years, eleven months. 

That's how long it had taken Ominis to make Garreth Weasley his forever.

[lolotr]

hi babes it's me, get ready to spill all your secrets ✨ I wanna know EVERYTHING but also I don't wanna be weird, so gimme 15 with some sweet sweet details about those WIPs, maybe, if you're down for it? Also 29 and 30 pls and thank you. 😘❤️💕

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII BABES THANK YOU FOR SENDING THE ASKIES

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

Which ones am I NOT taking into next year with me, jesus. so many. these are all DBD, as will be shocking to 0 of you. I have WIPs in other fandoms, but nothing I'm ACTIVELY working on

-Dead Boys Night: It would be nice if I could finish this before the year ends, but I'm not totally sure that will happen. I have ideas for the last chapter/epilogue, but I haven't been great about sitting down and actually working on it. Pray for me.

-Libraryverse: I will forever be obsessed with this little family I created. I currently have two fics that are actively in progress, nowhere near done, but they will continue to be written, as well as (hopefully) the 10+ other ideas I have for this verse. I kid you not. I am obsessed with the libraryverse.

-The Raven Cycle AU: This has been percolating for a few months, since I wrote the first chapter for payneland week. I want to develop it into a full story, and even have a couple chapters written, but I want to develop it more/get farther before posting them.

-Merthur AU: Weirdly, I also have an idea or two about the merthur vibes AU I wrote for payneland week. I've started working on the story of Edwin and Charles meeting in that verse, but I'm not sure if anything will come of it.

This is not to say these are the only ideas I have, but these are the ones with more than just vague vibes written down, lol.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Ugh, that's gonna be hard. I've written so much that I'm proud of this year, which is such a nice feeling. The first one that comes to mind is this, from my beach episode:

“I love you, Edwin,” he says, with the same conviction as, Let’s get you out of here. As, You’re my best mate, and you always will be. As, It looks like you’re stuck with me.  

That was one of my favorite confessions I've written.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Honestly? That I found the joy in it again. Before Dead Boy Detectives, I hadn't written much fic. I posted something here and there, usually for much smaller fandoms, but I haven't been gripped by a story in this way in YEARS. So the biggest surprise this year was that I got grabbed by the guts and wrote TENS OF THOUSANDS OF WORDS and am full of ideas and excitement. The initial rush has calmed a bit, both naturally and because I got a job and moved, but I am still having a great time writing and posting, so I'm not going anywhere.

ao3 wrapped [writers edition] (yes I'm using someone else's post bc I couldn't find my own shut up)

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Guardian Angel AU

Can you perhaps… Write their first Christmas together?

That day is so cute :<

Sure! Christmas in July. It's still June.

@dolce-tenebra-toscana I'm including Melody!!

Adam was jittery, Christmas time was always the time of year he was the most lonely and vulnerable. Sera would send $20 in a card that was pre-written, Alastor wouldn't come by until New Year's Eve, so that was a gift in itself.

Normally Adam would just spend it holed up in his apartment, drinking more than normal and taking even more pills to forget about what this time of year used to be for him.

No, this year he was spending Christmas with Lucifer and Melody at her place. Adam hadn't been there in nearly two years, even though she tried to coax him out he didn't even open the door when she came by.

Lucifer's therapy sessions have been helping him a lot. And since they've started dating Adam has felt even better.

A knock on his door got Adam out of his head, he answered and smiled when he saw it was Lucifer. "Hey! You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." Adam had his normal hoodie on, it kept him nice and warm. Not to mention it kept his boys close to him. He locked up his apartment and him and Lucifer walked to Melody's hand in hand.

Something about just holding Lucifer's hand made Adam feel more safe and secure.

The walk didn't take too long, which was good cause it was cold out. "Oh my god, Adam! It's so good to see you!!" Melody cheered and brought the brunette in for a tight hug, he hugged her back. He missed her, Adam didn't realize how much until this very moment. "And Lucifer, glad you could make it come on in!"

Adam actually found the entire evening to be nice. They all talked as they ate and drank hot chocolate that Melody made herself, her cat Ziggy found his way to Adams lap for some much needed pets.

Adam and Lucifer took to looking at the decorations that Melody put up on her fireplace. "This has been really nice." Adam commented.

Lucifer nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Melody really knows how to make someone feel welcome."

They turned when they heard her giggling. "Oops, how'd that get there?"

Confused, Adam followed her gaze above their heads and......

Mistletoe.

Adam felt his heart race. This shouldn't be a difficult thing to do, they were dating after all. He must have had a panicked look on his face because Lucifer cupped his face in his hands.

"We don't have to if you want to." Intimacy has always been difficult for Adam, since Steve, since Valentino. Even just kissing can send him into a panic.

But Lucifer....... Not with Lucifer, he always makes Adam feel calm and his kisses always make Adam's heart race for a different reason.

Adam flushed, he wanted to do this. He never kissed someone under the mistletoe before. "I want to." He admitted shyly.

Adam and Lucifer closed the gap between them in a soft kiss. Adam held onto Lucifer as if he was going to float away to the heavens above. The kiss was deepened slightly and Adams head was spinning, all he could think, feel, and smell was Lucifer.

The scent of apples and cinnamon along with something that Adam could only describe as being purely Lucifer. He loved the way he smelled.

When they pulled apart they smiled at each other, Adams was less shy than before. Fuck, he really loved Lucifer. Maybe one day he'd tell him.

"Awww, you guys are just too cute." Melody said, she had watched them. She was so happy Adam found someone who was good to him, god knows the man deserved it.

When Adam and Lucifer left, they went back to Lucifer's place and watched classic Christmas movies curled up on the couch in their pajamas until they fell asleep.

That was Adams best Christmas ever.

[another-clive-blog]

I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Batch Family: The Ninth of September

Part of my Bad Batch AU: "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist].

Word count: 990 | Batch ages: Multiple

Note: Since 9/9 obviously has to be the Batch boys' birthday, thought I'd take the opportunity to write a little something about it. It's been so long since I've written for this family, I miss them...

The Ninth of September | Celebrating the boys' birthdays through the years...

Their first birthday had been a spectacle. Beth had only had them for a few months at that time. She'd made it through the summer with them, working limited hours at her job in order to figure out a home routine, and thus sacrificing a lot just to ensure her new family got off to a decent start. But though there was still progress to be made for stability by the time September 9th rolled around, all of her family, friends, and apparently whoever else felt like it, still insisted on showing up, using the boys' birthday as a pretense for ogling her anomaly of a family.

Her mom hadn't yet gotten over her disapproval of the situation, pointing out every little mess in her home, and questioning every little decision Beth made for the boys. Her friends stood awkwardly about, treating her like she was a different person, like they'd never met her before and didn't know what to say. Her dad kept trying to slip her some cash, while the one set of grandparents she still had left were less subtle in their efforts to talk about her financial situation. And then there were plenty of faces she didn't recognize that had somehow wandered in, acting as if it was their business to be there, casting judgment and whispering comments under their breaths.

Thus, their second birthday was much more private.

Though the people in Beth's life had quieted down by then, she still chose to ignore any questions about planning a party and allowed herself to enjoy a birthday with her sons in peace. Well, in as much peace as five 2-year-old toddlers could manage. They ended up making a disaster of the kitchen as she tried using their help to make a cake. Flour on noses and batter on the walls, the whole bit. It was the most fun she'd ever had with them, the first time she gave herself permission to stop caring about being perfect. She would remember their unrestrained laughter and squeals of glee for years.

The next several birthdays were similarly private and energetic. She couldn't afford gifts and there never seemed to be enough friends for parties, so she made up for it with creative activities to make the day special. Crafts or games were the go-tos, with an occasional movie as they got older and could sit still longer.

Their ninth birthday was the "golden birthday," when their age matched the date, and that year she did splurge a bit and took them to see a soccer game in one of the bigger cities. That was the moment that started it all, the soccer obsession that would overtake their lives for the next several years. All she had wanted to do was distract them from the revelation they'd had earlier that year, about their birth parents and the fact that Echo's birthday was technically two weeks earlier and she'd pretended otherwise this whole time just to keep them from questioning the past until they were ready to understand it. And as a consequence she'd now have to deal with them being distracted by sports every day for the next decade. Oh well.

It wasn't until the were in the double-digits that she started inviting others again. She'd been back on good terms with her parents for a while but they had moved and visits simply weren't as convenient. But with the boys making more friends as they got older, she very well couldn't be that mom who deprived them of what everyone else had, and everyone else had birthday parties. Sure, the decorations were from the dollar store, and the only food she could offer was cheap pizza and a generic sheet cake from Costco, but young kids didn't care about such things. The fact they could say they had a party, and could be allowed to run around with their friends doing who-knew-what, that was enough.

Eventually, teenage angst got in the way, as it often did, so their fifteenth birthday was another tumultuous one. No one could agree on what do to celebrate. Wrecker and Echo wanted to keep things the same and just invite people over. Tech wanted to have more of an interesting outing, such as going to the newly opened cornfield maze. Hunter seemed embarrassed to want to do anything, and Crosshair was set on being contrary and arguing against any idea that was thrown out.

Beth had tried her hand at making a cake again, as a surprise, but ended up being so exhausted with their quarreling that she went to bed early for the night. The boys discovered the cake in the fridge later and felt awful, but not quite enough to snap out of their brooding, bickering personas just yet. No, those would continue to fester for a while longer.

But the nice, fun birthdays got back on track the following year, giving the Batch house a few more years of shared memories before they grew up too much. Eventually they graduated, started traveling, moving away, turning into adults with ambitions and futures. Birthdays wouldn't look quite the same after that.

All Beth could do was cherish the memories... and enjoy her flowers. She wasn't sure who started the tradition - she suspected Echo - but after the first year they had all been apart for their birthday in their twenties, they each started sending her flowers, every September 9th. Even though she hadn't been the one to give birth to any of them, they still felt she deserved some recognition for all the years she'd tried to give them a special day, even amidst any chaos or financial struggle or social awkwardness.

And toward each other, they'd acknowledge their shared day with nothing more than a simple Happy Birthday text in the group chat... Except Echo, who'd teasingly text back, Guess you guys forgot my birthday again...

~ ~ ~

The Batch Family Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @pandora-the-halfling, @misogirl828, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @sarahtanmarvel, @itsagrimm, @lackofhonor, @error6gendernotfound, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @kaijusplotch, @salaminus, @theroguesully, @reading02, @techie-bear, @not-a-big-slay, @nekotaetae, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @pickle-rick-y, @flowered-bicycles, @droids-you-are-looking-for, @sleepycreativewriter

(Join my tag list here)

[arsenalgbt]

Dudeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee that was amazing! Love the snippet into Ben's life with Ethan and I'm really glad that he started threapy pre-meeting Willo. Ethan's bond with Kieran and how much notice Ben takes of it made my heart shatter a little for him, thise Ethan and Tomás playdates probably mean so much to him. Also Willo's lead in being "cute baby' before saying he hadn't seen Ben around before is very fun. Willo wanted to get to know Ben regardless and Willo was probably one of the first people who Ben can remember wanting to get to know him (/flirt with him) after learning about the baby. Ben wasn't ready for anything with Willo but it was nice to feel wanted. God you're mind is so powerful and your writing is so good!

- 💙🤍 KT anon

You're timing for posting that is INSANE! I just sat down with tea to work on the uni au and now I'm going to read this and feel things and I'm so excited! I shall be back to yell about it in a few mins! - 💙🤍 KT Anon

yasss feed me with the uni au update soon~

was written in a whim, cuz I needed an outlet after a trying week lmao. ofc it's gonna be single mum generational wealth ben and his baby boy Ethan teeheeeeee. the therapy helps immensely, he still takes it even after he's letting willo in in his life. ben is rly determined to do his best!! THANK YOU. glad you enjoyed it! should have added when Ethan said his first word, which ofc would be mummy, despite everything 🥰🥰🥰

[georgieluz]

Hey

do you write any fan fictions? If so do you think you could give us a little overview of what you’re currently working on? No pressure.

hello! thanks for the ask, i do indeed write fic! ofc i can give you an overview of what i'm working on atm :) i tried to not make this too long as it's just an overview, but feel free to ask me to expand on any of these! i do actually wanna talk more about my fic but i just never know if people wanna read posts about it or just wait until i upload the fic itself. do people want extracts? information about aus? character stuff? idk??? lemme know if you wanna know more, i'm chucking in a read more too bc it got a bit long

a hbo war f1 au. [working title: you're crashing, but you're no wave]. okay, so this is probably the biggest scale thing i'm working on atm. it's multi-chaptered and atm i've been writing it in an almost serialised format, since it's got quite a few narrative strands and numerous characters from both band of brothers and the pacific. i probably would have included some gen kill characters too, but i hadn't watched the show when i was planning and starting to write this, and i don't wanna add too much more into it, so i've stopped myself. i've written a lot for this one and i'm considering posting a few chapters soon. if you wanna know about any character's role in this one feel free to send me another ask because i'd love to talk about them more!! some are drivers (we've got rookies, seasoned drivers, eight-time world champions, the lot!!), some are behind the pit wall in management and engineering roles, some are retired drivers, etc etc. but yeah, it's andy haldane's final season before he plans to retire and let's just say the racing world has decided it's going to be the most chaotic yet! i'll drop some clues about what it entails: snafu and liebgott scrapping their way into weekly dnfs until one of them is kicked from the team. rookie driver eugene sledge having to deal with the consequences. webster somehow making it into his dream team with his dream teammate, yet, his focus remains on beating one person and one person alone. eddie jones is the very successful (and very hot) team principal of andy's rival team. hoosier is there being his usual self. leckie is the f1 journo who somehow knows everything about everyone and boy, the fans love it. we also have the much-loved fan favourite george luz and his race day engineer carwood lipton! retired-world-champion-now-team-principal dick winters and his ex-teammate boyfriend lewis nixon! and i also have a fair few OCs for this au, they aren't written romantically with any of the boys though, but i love them a lot! i might do a post about them later.

next up, is my k-company space pirates au! [working title: one way trigger (step inside the sun)] ok so it probably won't sound very piratey right now, but stick with me, ok? this is actually the one i'm enjoying writing the most right now. i've drafted all the chapters (6-8 depending on whether i cut this one incident or not) and i've written a lot for this too, so i'll probably be posting this one first. very basic synopsis: eddie jones is an expert in data retrieval. eddie jones is also on the run, and a very, very wanted man. maybe the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy. through an unfortunate twist of fate, romus burgin has been dragged along for the ride. andy haldane was a highly respected intergalactic officer, a captain loved by his men and the authorities above them alike. he also risked it all to aid in their escape. now, he's harbouring them both on his grandfather's old and battered ship, picking up a small ragtag team along the way. whilst they're trying to lay low, a distress call, with a code embedded into the message, is sent directly to the ship. one of the team recognises the code and realises it could only have come from one other person in the whole universe, someone asking for his help, someone he could never say no to. it's the worst time, possibly ever, for them to go on a rescue mission but somehow that's what they're doing.

then we have, an early 2000s battle of the bands au. this is mostly band of brothers, but a few people from one company in the pacific does have a role in the narrative, i'll leave that as a surprise though. basically, george luz enters his newly formed garage band into the campus annual battle of the bands competition, certain that they have a decent enough chance at winning. his bandmates disagree. especially after they see who they're up against. this is actually my other favourite to write at the moment! maybe even more so than the k-company space pirates one. it's a chaptered fic, but i'm trying to keep it contained and not super super long. i'm hoping to keep it at around 6-8 chapters max, but i have a bad habit of not sticking to my drafts, so we'll see. but yeah, i'm having a lot of fun with this and feel free to ask me about who the band members are and other roles that other characters will have!

call it fate, call it karma. aka, my 'eddie jones made it home from the war, but andy haldane did not' oneshot. i'm almost finished writing it, i just have a fair bit of editing to finish up.

the ballroom extravaganza. my winnix spy au! the intelligence officer to secret agent pipeline is too real and lew must suffer the consequences, i'm afraid! i've got this drafted and partially written as a two-shot but it's begging to be expanded on, so i've got it waiting in limbo right now, whilst i decide what i'm gonna do. someone make the decision for me please?

i have two male OCs that i've written for liebgott and nixon, if you wanna know more about them then i'm happy to talk about them and introduce them, but i'm not sure how much people would wanna know so i'll wait.

i have another OC based off a friend that i'm almost finished writing a thing for, i just have to change some things to fit the overall series better.

i also have a silly little thing that i wrote up bc i got depressed and hyperfixated on the tv show bondi rescue for the last two weeks resulting in me basically planning a whole bondi rescue lifeguard au for the pacific boys. i have no idea if anyone other than me would be into that so it'll probably stay in my scrivener files lmao

then i just have some vague gen kill things partially planned but they need a lot more work before they see the light of day lmao. but yes, they're all fucking bradnate. apart from the one bradnatemike thing that my brain begged me to consider, which i promptly gave in to right away.

anyway, sorry i know that was supposed to be an overview but it turned into a very long overview. oops.

[solarsavoy]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

That's so hard, I've so many! But I think I've figured it out, my top 5.

Assassin Skills Required

By far my favorite fic I've written, even now. It was based off a dream and includes characters from Krystar while focusing on the AC characters. I didn't know where I was going with it until I was halfway done, so it was written and posted live, consistently. It went from Saturdays only to Saturdays and Wednesdays and somehow I kept up the whole time thru 3 works of it. As a debut for fanfiction, it's simply the best, and I haven't been able to recreate my experience with it since. Writing live was just so... I can't believe I did it. Not once did I miss an update and it wasn't even prewritten. In fact, I outpaced my posting schedule, even after starting to post a second day each week. I'd never been so inspired than when writing ASR. Picking the top 5 is hard, but picking number 1 is easy. Link to ASR teaser.

Kristmas Karma

This one wasn't quite written live, but it wasn't written that far ahead either, and it includes a ridiculous amount of art all drawn the week before it was posted. I can't believe it was more or less posted on time. It was also partially an experiment. While ASR included all the AC characters, I still didn't know them that well individually outside of Karmagisa. Kristmas Karma changed that. I was able to write and understand nearly every single student's POV convincingly, and still reference the fic to this day when trying to feel them out. It still makes me cry and Christmas Day, despite being the single most longest chapter I've ever written, so long it was split into 2 chapters (23k words btw), still flies right by every time I reread it. Link to KK prelude.

Magic Shuu

Speaking of getting to learn about the other characters in AC, this one focuses on Shuu and the five virtuosos. What I love most about this one is how fluidly I've crossed these boys into the Sailor Moon universe. I love how I turn this very minor character and his even more invisible friends into the main stars and make them relatable. In fact, my friend who has a similarly overbearing father relates to Shuu deeply. This story just has so much heart in it. Currently unfinished, but I'll finish it someday, even if it takes me years. Link to first chapter.

Ubisoft

A Karushuu one-shot. It's playful and fun and both of them are such loveable dorks in this. XD I've reread it so many times I've lost count. My favorite part for Karma is when he stumbles out the door in the morning, tripping and nearly breaking his phone on the way. My favorite part for Shuu is how awkward his attempt to be a better kisser is. I love them so much in this. Link to Ubisoft.

Cuddles and Kisses

A Karmagisa one-shot that I'd planned to write for the longest time. It was based on an idea that someone else had, but it's surprisingly sweet and wholesome despite it being about Karma summoning an incubus. XD My favorite part for Nagisa is when he attempts to "seduce" Karma. My favorite part for Karma is when he rushes home because he's worried about Nagisa disappearing, frantically searching the house until he calls out Nagisa's name, and then hugging him in relief when he appears before him. It's just so sweet for a one-shot, and I'm strongly considering writing more for this AU. Link to Cuddles and Kisses.

Honorable mention:

Gerit

An original story set in the Krystar universe but separate from the main story. It's actually my favorite of anything on AO3, but it's technically not a fanfiction. It centers around a neurodivergent named Gerit who was abused in many ways as a child while training to be an assassin. I wrote this in the midst of writing ASR as Gerit was in the story and I hadn't fleshed him out as a Krystar character yet. It's finished, but not all posted on AO3 as I've decided the tiny Krystar spoilers at the end aren't something I should spoil until at least after book 1 or 2 of the Fragment series is out. Still, feel free to check it out. Not for the faint of heart, rated MA. Link to Gerit.

Thank you Anon, for sending me this ask. I hope my favorite reads can get some views from this. 💙

[azikarue]

2023 Fic Recap

Little late with the recap this year, but it's still January, right? For now?

Going into 2023, my goals were to 1) update "Bliss", 2) participate in MayBlade, and 3) work on/finish some WIPs. Poor "Bliss" is still waiting for its chance, but two out of three isn't bad!

I'll ramble more at the end of the post, but here's a recap of everything I posted in 2023.

❖

A Kiss for Luck

Summary: Before his crucial battle against Mystel, Max takes a moment to center himself. He wasn't expecting company. Set in my Saint Shields in G-Rev AU. Pairing: Max/Mariam Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,855 Rated: K+

This fic was the first of six short oneshots I wrote to commemorate Valentine's Day. I did something similar in 2021, where I wrote a handful of Max/Mariam kisses and published them during the week leading up to Valentine's Day. When I was planning my writing for 2023, it felt like something fun to tackle again, and it gave me a lighthearted and relaxed start to the year writing-wise. So, I ignored my entire list of goals and wrote this (plus the next five) based off of six kiss tropes. I chose a different pairing for each.

For this one, I indulged myself doubly by starting with Max/Mariam and by setting it in my Saint Shields in G-Rev AU. Ever since I started pondering this AU, the moment in this fic is one that I knew had to happen. I'm sure the Saint Shields would have a lot to say about BEGA. I'm also sure that Mariam would remember the lessons she learned from Max and would be happy to throw them back in his face when he needs it most. And I love the excuse to visit early Max/Mariam days, even if it's in an AU setting. I write so much about them as adults that it always feels refreshing to write a little closer to their roots. This one holds a special place in my heart.

❖

A Kiss on a Scar

Summary: Every mark on Tala's body has a story and Julia does her best not to ask questions. She doesn't always succeed. Pairing: Tala/Julia Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,883 Rated: T

When I chose this trope, I knew exactly which ship I would write for it. I was glad to have more practice with these two after writing them for a couple of my MayBlade 2022 chapters. For some reason, I tend to shy away from any member of the Blitzkrieg Boys when I write. I think it's partially because they have such a strong fan base and I'm never sure how my personal image of them will rate. Honestly, I've spent so many years in the fandom focusing on more underrated characters that I'm not even sure I have fully developed ideas for the Blitzkrieg Boys. Tala/Julia feels more niche, though, like it's a safe place for me to play around in.

While writing this, I was a little unsure on characterization. Namely, how much Tala would share without prompting and how much Julia would prompt him. I think there's still some gaps in Tala's character arc between seasons that I need to fill in mentally. He's very open with Tyson when discussing BEGA and Boris. I can only assume that's some combo of righteous anger and maybe therapy? Or just figuring himself out now that he's free from Biovolt's clutches. Julia is a bit of a mystery, too. Mostly, I worry that I'll end up writing her too similarly to other female characters on accident. Reading this fic back, I don't dislike the way I wrote them. And it was a stage in their relationship that I hadn't written before this point, so I enjoyed it a lot!

❖

A Kiss with Red Lipstick

Summary: Usually Queen has more fun at Enrique's family parties. But she usually doesn't have to go out of her way for his company or spend the night stone cold sober either. Pairing: Enrique/Queen Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,784 Rated: M

This chapter was just me writing for me. I was pleasantly surprised when it got more than a single note when I posted it on Tumblr, because I know this is such a random ship with an, arguably, even more random interpretation. These are the two I write about when I want messy drama and chaos. Red lipstick kisses feel very messy and chaotic, so here we are.

This falls into the same story line as the last Enrique/Queen fic I wrote. It was fun building upon that idea.

❖

A Kiss at the Beach

Summary: Salima gets caught staring. It lands her in deep water…so to speak. Pairing: Ray/Salima Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,180 Rated: T

I'll never turn down the chance to write some cutesy Ray/Salima. I imagine the two of them traveling around together a lot, living an almost nomadic lifestyle between tournaments or stops home (to White Tiger Hills or Salima's apartment). It's always a treat to indulge in that line of thinking, especially for a sweet moment like this.

❖

A Kiss to Shut Her Up

Summary: Mariah has a talent for uncomfortable conversations. Rick's working on his strategy for getting out of them. Pairing: Rick/Mariah Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,253 Rated: T

This was one of my favorites when I wrote this series, and I still love it a year later. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I love writing Rick and Mariah's dynamic, especially from Rick's in-denial, grumpy point of view. He's a fun character in general, and I love how Mariah is the perfect person to keep him on his toes. And I had the line about her climbing him like a tree in reserves for what feels like forever, so it was nice to finally give it a home.

❖

A Kiss for the Winner

Summary: Tyson wins another World Championship and Hilary needs a minute to process his reaction. Pairing: Tyson/Hilary Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,987 Rated: K+

I remember agonizing over this fic because I didn't want Tyson or Hilary to feel out of character. I've written a fair bit of TyHil since then, so I think that worry has subsided somewhat, but it was VERY REAL when I wrote this. I think the fact that the fic centers around a disagreement added to that anxiety. Arguments can be tricky. I didn't want it to feel like they resolved things too quickly to be believable or that Hilary's feelings were dismissed. In the end, I'm very happy with how it turned out.

❖

Subtly Sweet

Summary: When Hilary's computer crashed, she hoped work would be a distraction. Instead, she has a run-in with a vending machine and finds an unlikely hero in Tyson. Now if only he wasn't such a royal pain. Pairing: Tyson/Hilary Chapters: 1/1 Words: 4,320 Rated: K

I have this fic to thank for being able to tick my "work on/finish some WIPs" box in 2023. Very grateful to it for the feeling of accomplishment it gave me. 😄

For a fic that was sitting as a WIP for a year, it cleaned up nice! As a WIP, it was mostly dialogue with some vague outlining that I'd started, then left hanging. Sometimes pinpointing the perfect dialogue to take a plot from Point A to Point B can be a struggle, so when I reread my notes, I knew I had to take advantage of a good thing while I had it. The phone call scene wasn't originally included, and I remember doing a healthy amount of tweaking to get it right, but once it was there I couldn't imagine the story without it.

Fun fact: The original spark of an idea for this fic came from a conversation with RedWheeler literal years ago. I can't remember if we were discussing TyHil specific songs, but "Tangled Up In Me" by Skye Sweetnam came up and I couldn't get the thought of Hilary kicking a vending machine out of my head. Also, how is that song 20 years-old already?

❖

Life in Color

Summary: A collection for MayBlade 2023. Pairing: Multiple Chapters: 31/31 Words: 65,225 Rated: Varies (everything from K to M)

The pièce de résistance of my year. 💎

I, once again, did not finish my MayBlade entries on time. Unlike my first try, I accepted the fact that I would fall behind ahead of time. I think it made me feel much less stressed overall, but it also might have contributed to me falling behind faster than before? It's a double-edged sword. I know that I was in a better place for this round than I was when writing "Just A Moment", though. Life was much more balanced and I gave myself time to rest and recoup in between chapters, as needed, rather than spending all hours writing, editing, and falling asleep on my keyboard.

I'm very proud of this collection. I love challenging myself to write about some of my favorite, underappreciated characters alongside some of the characters more typical to my fics. I think I said this last year, too, but I love to see which chapters people like best and how it can vary between FFN and Tumblr. Sometimes I'm surprised by how things play out. Like, I was very shocked that the first chapter was so well-received on Tumblr, seeing as it focused on the Saint Shields. I'm sure it was because it was Day 1 of the event, but it was nice to know that some of my favorite characters got their time to shine. That was the case for more than one chapter, and I'd write a slew of notes on them all if it wouldn't make this post way too long.

All in all, I saw more engagement on "Life in Color" versus "Just A Moment" and I'm so grateful to anyone who read or interacted with it in some way! 🤍

❖

As I reflect on 2023, I can acknowledge that I took some positive steps forward in my never-ending quest for balance.

I'm teaching myself every day that it is okay to let go of things without guilt and pick them back up later. I can't be everything or do it all 100% of the time, and that's all right. It doesn't have to be all or nothing, and I can start things without having any idea of when I'll finish them. I can take a break from things that aren't serving me or causing more stress than I can handle. I can choose myself first and follow my whims. I can log off and be present.

In 2024, I don't know what my fanfic uploads will look like. I'd like to update Bliss and work on more WIPs. MayBlade is up in the air. I love participating, but it always turns into a bigger production than I bargain for. I may just need to participate differently, if I choose to do so.

September thru December are notoriously busy months for me, with May and June getting honorable mention. I'm not saying I'll be totally absent those months. Just putting it out there for me, so I know to go easy on myself. If I do nothing but read and take day trips and spend quality time with the people (and animals!) I love during that time, then it will be a year well spent. 🤍

As always, thank you to everyone who has interacted with any of my uploads this year and to the people who cheer me on and feed my fandom fire. I appreciate this little circle of the internet so, so much, and I hope 2024 brings only the best to you all! 🥰

[starpiastri]

FIRSTLY i do not know how i hadn't seen your ao3 before now and i'm losing my MIND i'm about to read it all bc i just read casualty of you and now i'm SCREECHING secondly... the fic writer questions: 11, 4, 30, 49! x

FIRSTLY AWAHHHH THABK YOU SO SO MUCH!!!! i hope u enjoy <3333

secondly gonna stick these answers below the cut!!! just because i started rambling ehe

11- Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?

oh absolutely pairing-wise it will always be sebmark for me… i think i am just entirely struck by the different phases of their relationship? 2009 is an entirely different vibe to 2013 who is an entirely different vibe to 2017 and that makes fic writing them sooo fun for me its never a chore to write sebmark. beyond this teammate rivalries are just absolutely compelling to me i think the dynamics and intricacies are so so interesting, especially gaining more insight on that from marks book was just eeeee i loved it (fuck u helmut marko for everything you ever do). personality wise too they both suit each other well in terms of rpf and they dynamics that i’ve always written and like writing.

character wise i love writing seb. i rlly hope i do him justice because i just love his voice and his humour and his mannerisms. he’s my love ever and i love him so any pairings with him in i am always heart eyes over.

4 - What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

i’m gonna take this as any fic i’ve written so! i think anything in good men die too verse i am hugely proud of. i did a bit of research for crush about street racing (a lack of in thoroughfare which i often get annoyed about but oh well) and so i think i got the car types right. either way it sounds professional so shrug!

an unreleased fic i have a bit of detail on is my siren!seb fic, its entirely unfinished but i did some research about mythology surrounding mermaids and sirens and think it’s pretty good in that!!!

30 - Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

oh boy most of my ot3 fest fics (i have three fulfilled hopefully! haha 3) were quite a new experience. i won’t spoil a ton but writing threesomes is hard man. lots of limbs

49 - What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

ehehehe. its a another fucking sebmark au! heir to father’s business seb nearly gets assassinated and his driver mark (annoying, gets in the way, keeps making fun of him) saves his life and thus is made his bodyguard in order to protect him. he hates mark already but this really pisses seb off, a constant shadow. also it’s called bad for business yes like the sabrina carpenter song

it’s going to be my first multi chapter and i’m anxious as balls about it and i really kind of hate the tone at the minute so it needs reworking. first chap is basically done but want three written before i post anything just for my own sanity. but here’s a little snippet of them winding each other up

+

Why has Britta put the medicine on the top shelf, for fuck’s sake, she knows he’s not that tall. He gets on his tiptoes, but the box is pushed further back by the tips of his fingers, rather than grabbing it.

“Let me, Mr Vettel.”

And then, the lean body of Sebastian’s driver against the back of him, reaching up to the shelf with zero effort. His fingers dash against Sebastian’s, and it’s a much more successful retrieval, bringing down the box of pills to his height.

Sebastian turns, putting his back to the countertop, the bare skin under his hoodie just brushing the cool marble. He’s close enough that he can smell Webber’s cologne - sharp. Masculine. Like the rest of him, ever predictable.

Webber takes a short step back, probably assessing how abnormally close they were. He puts the box into Sebastian’s open palm. The pills shake inside upon impact. He’s pleased, but through gritted teeth, like a dog finally being allowed a treat.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

+

so yeah!!!! i rlly hope i do finish it and get it out because the idea has been brewing for months.

thank u so much for all the questions and ofc the love for casualty of you <33

[onward--upward]

Hi 🦀🦀 some Weird Asks for you: 18 (leaving it up to you to choose the passage), 25, 36 💞

HELLO BELOVED thank u!! 🦀🦀

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

i am going to take this opportunity to talk about my baby boy avery o'connor from steppin' into fate <3 <3

he has a bunch of spare toothbrushes in his bathroom for when friends stay over, in a variety of colours.

he hates beer (bold and controversial opinion for a hockey player.)

his crush on buck was sooooo obvious that it's a running joke on the Kings' social media. he is never ever escaping the obsessed-with-evan-buckley accusations

when he's a little more settled in the league and has a longer contract he goes out and adopts TWO dogs in the summer break. avery o'connor dog dad CONFIRMED

he absolutely goes out and gets a bf at some point i just haven't decided Whom or When

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice... what do you Know?

excellent question!!! the answer is Not A Whole Lot. I know.... terrible retail jobs? academia? oh!!! i know Hockey, but i've already written about that one!

i know Being Bisexual and Stupid, that's why i gravitate towards evan buckley <3

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Okay this is my favourite question ever!!! I decided to go with the opening to my beloved soulmate AU, stitch my soul, because it was the story that i wrote over the longest period of time so i was interested to go back and see how it changed.

passage and the rest of the answer is under the cut because i don't want to clog up people's dashes <3

from the finished version:

For a long time, the crook of Eddie’s arm read only Ev. For such a long time, even, that his parents sometimes asked him if he was sure it hadn't settled yet. Maybe he had missed the signs. “It could be an unusual name, Eddie,” his mom says one night, when he’s been fighting with Shannon, his girlfriend who isn’t his soulmate, his girlfriend that his parents have never liked very much at all. “Ev. You never know, these days, what people are naming their children.” 

“It hasn’t settled,” he’d insisted, because you were supposed to know, when it did. And he’d never felt the shift, the one that you always see in movies when the music swells and everything falls into a sharp focus. There was no click, in his chest, nothing coming together. It just felt… unfinished. 

Unsettled. 

There are lots of potential reasons that a mark might take a long time to settle into your soulmate’s name. They make it seem like everyone settles right around the time they reach adulthood, but Eddie’s done the research, and he knows that plenty of people don’t settle that early. The experts don’t seem to be able to agree on why it takes longer, for some people. There’s no definitive explanation. And Eddie has never needed one. 

Because Shannon shows up on his doorstep at his parents’ house with a positive pregnancy test, and he marries her in a church that his parents pick out, and he enlists in the army because he’s 21 and terrified and he doesn’t have many employable skills. The scrawled Ev on the inside of his forearm doesn’t matter much, in the end, when he’s out there learning to have steady hands and quick problem-solving skills, and practising how to remove a bullet from beneath somebody’s skin. It doesn’t matter much when he’s flying home to cut the umbilical cord and meet his son and then shipping back out to the dust and the sand before any of it really starts to feel real. And he has Shannon – brave, beautiful Shannon. She’s never been his soulmate, and he’s never been hers. But he loves her. And he has Christopher, now, and he loves him, too. And whoever his Ev is, he doubts they would want… all of this, even if he was going to drop everything for them. Which he’s not. So it doesn’t matter. Hasn’t mattered, really, for a long time. He’s not sixteen years old anymore, watching the v fade in, sharp and kind of clumsy, deep black against his skin. He’s not that same kid who was Googling one of those lists that filled in common names to fill out your letters, skimming through them all, breath caught in his throat. Ev is kind of an unusual combination, really – nothing like Adriana’s first two letters, which had come in four days apart, spelling out Ma against her calf, and narrowed absolutely nothing down. Turns out Ev is even rarer when you filter by common names for Eddie’s geographical location. The possibilities used to fill up his head. Eva. Eve. Evelyn. 

(Everett. Evan. Evander. He tried to read those ones and forget them, but they lingered just as much. He shoved them to the back of his brain, where they couldn’t quite see the light of day.) 

But he isn’t that kid anymore. So he forgets about his letters altogether, for a while. Afghanistan is all his brain has room for, these days, and every spare space left over is filled by Chris. His team brings up soulmates on occasion, the usual locker room ribbing, trying to keep things lighthearted. He listens to cheesy romantic stories from those who’ve already found their match, the whining from those who are unlucky in their search. When the questions turn Eddie’s way, he brushes them off, and they mostly let him be. Nobody wants unhappy stories. There are enough of those out here. 

Eddie puts Ev aside. 

Christopher gets diagnosed with CP, Shannon is more and more stressed out every time they manage to speak to each other. He sees men and women die beneath his hands, and he wakes up some days to gunfire, and there’s no room anywhere for the little letters on his skin.

now, because i tend to write a lot of my first drafts by hand in notebooks, i actually have the first verison of this! (and my handwriting actually looks nice in this one, yay <3)

when i first wrote this i don't think i really had any idea where i was going with things, i was just thinking: soulmates, eddie's past with shannon, how does that work? and i just kind of sat down and went for it lol.

a lot of this survived to the final version! but it's missing a lot of connective tissue -- it's a much shorter version of the same passage. also i think it's interesting how in the original version i had eddie refering to his soulmate with she/her pronouns, where in the actual fic he always uses they/them even in his own head. this version of eddie i think always knew that his soulmate would be a guy, but shoved that wayyyy down where he didn't have to think about it. but it's one of those things that you do still know, even if you pretend you don't, so i'm glad i took the she/her pronouns out.

anyways i'm actually surprised how cohesive this original version is! a lot of my notebook first drafts include a lot of crossed out lines and false starts, especially if i don't really know where the story is going.

--

thank you my most beloved, i had wayyyy to much fun with these!!

here are the questions if anyone else wants to hear me ramble about writing <3

[emilykaldwen]

11, 12 and 26 for the bts fic asks (the maiden and the drowning boy)?

Behind the Scenes Fic Asks

Thank you so much for sending this!!! Okay *cracks knuckles* let's see what thinky thoughts I need to make coherent.

11. Was there a scene that you hadn't originally planned to include? Why did you decide to fit it in?

Ooooh nice! So this is the first fic I've like truly outlined because there's so many plots and subplots and moving parts that I need to be aware of. Like putting a bunch of feral toddlers on leashes! The thing I make sure I do though, is to leave breathing room for scenes exactly like this where they come up because you find the story needs it in that moment. I think I have to go with... (me checking what I've written so far) So there's a scene in chapter 14 (the ball!) that I ended up writing between Abby and her grandfather, Rodrick Reyne that I'm incredibly pleased about because the man isn't dumb. He's totally acknowledging that Alicent is picking Abby to be queen, but he will absolutely fight against the betrothal if it isn't what Abby wants. And it just made my heart incredibly full because there is one fucking adult in her life that isn't trying to use Abby to their own ends/mold in their own image/try control Aegon through her. He cares about her and there is absolutely an AU somewhere where Abby goes to foster at Castamere after Lyonel's death.

12. Was there a scene you wished you could have included? Why didn't it fit in?

So I had wanted to do a scene with Aegon and Viserys where Aegon is asking permission to go into the royal treasury to get some jewels for Abby to make a necklace. This was meant to be right after the gallery scene in Chapter Nine. I scrapped it for a few reasons, I think mainly due to length? And Tonally in this chapter I wanted to keep it between Abby and Aegon in terms of them feeling like their relationship is changing before knocking them apart for the next chapters. If I can find a place to include it in the back half of the chapters, I absolutely will though because I really do need a scene with Aegon and Viserys. (Initially I thought of posting it as it's own outtake/one shot side story but it really is something I need to include)

26. Wild Card! A fun fact about this fic!

Well fuck LOL man, what's a fun fact... So I had come up with the concept of this story... fuck. It was the week that The Princess and the Queen aired, or the following week (I had created Abby back in August pretty quickly, although she was her canonical age at that point) and started writing mid-october or the week before nano started. It all began with what I intended ot be a one shot, with 15k words of young!Alicent and I wrote about... 32k of backstory route. There was going to be... 10? chapters of Alicent/Abby/Aegon rotating POV through Driftmark, and then time jump 3 years later to what is our opening chapter in Maiden. However I was really struggling with young!Abby POVs because she was such a happy kid? and she doesn't have the language or understanding or self realization to understand the 'Oh I need to be happy all the time because my dad was sad mom was dying and everyone around me is mentally unwell so I need to be happy because it makes other people happy'. And then I ended up scrapping that essentially and starting over and then at that point I got a very quick surgery approval and immediately started in on my fasting diet which took away any ability to string words together. Some of it is actually getting recycled for some stuff: there's a scene in particular where Daemon showed up for Aegon's 13th nameday, and Daemon was the one who introduced Aegon to Mysaria (because I had been trying to figure out how this little menace ended up becoming a regular fixture in flea bottom). Anyway, there was a really good dragon face off scene that will be repurposed for a later chapter in arc one!

[inspotlight]

META 01 — the night nini and brody start dating. VERSE: mamma mia au TRIGGERS — emotional abuse, eating disorders, grooming/unhealthy power dynamic, food mention FEATURING — brody walker (npc, shithead) MENTIONING — ricky bowen (@melodyplucked)

❝    this    song    is    about    the    first    boy    i    ever    loved.    i    wrote    it    for    our    one    year    anniversary    and...    a    lot    of    stuff    happened    after    that.    he    taught    me    that    i    should    never    settle    when    it    comes    to    love.    he    taught    me    how    to    love.    he    was    my    best    friend    in    the    entire    world    and    if    he    ever    sees    this...    i    hope    he    knows    how    much    he    meant    to    me.    ❞    the    words    echo    in    her    head    long    after    she's    played    the    song,    long    after    she's    gotten    off    stage.    brody    didn't    look    too    happy    when    her    set    was    over.    they'd    been    dancing    around    each    other    for    a    while    now    and    she'd    asked    him    to    come    to    the    opening    night    of    her    tour.    she'd    wanted    to    share    this    night    with    someone.    kourt    was    still    in    salt    lake    city    and    hadn't    been    able    to    get    off    school    come.    mimi    was...    somewhere?    she    could    never    keep    up    with    that    girl's    schedule.    her    moms    had    been    here,    but    they'd    had    to    leave    before    her    set    was    over.    so,    she'd    asked    brody    if    he    wanted    to    come,    and    at    the    time,    he'd    seemed    pretty    receptive    to    being    here.    had    seemed    like    he'd    want    to    support    her.    

they    were    sitting    at    the    in    n    out    down    the    street    from    the    venue,    nini    with    her    protein    style    burger    in    front    of    her    and    fries    she    was    barely    picking    at,    while    he    was    demolishing    a    couple    animal    style    double    doubles    and    stealing    fries    from    her    basket.    ❝    i    was    just    thinking,    you're    my    girl,    but    you    should    actually    be    my    girl    now,    and    i    could    take    you    off    the    market.    ❞    he    says    through    a    mouthful    of    fries.    it's    a    bit    disgusting,    really.    

❝    ahh...    yeah,    uh...    that    sounds    great,    brody.    really,    i'd    love    to    be    your    girlfriend.    ❞    she    wants    to    be    happy    about    this.    she    really    does.    she    and    brody    had    been    casually    dating    for    weeks    and    she    needed    to    move    on    from    ricky.    she'd    been    so    hung    up    on    him    for    so    long.    she    just    wanted    to    be    happy    again.    she    was    tired    of    the    lovesick    heartbroken    songs    she'd    been    writing    the    last    few    months.    she    missed    feeling    loved.    maybe    she    could    have    that    again.    

❝    cool,    cool,    cool.    i    thought    you'd    say    that.    so,    you    gonna    come    back    to    my    place    with    me    tonight?    celebrate    your    big    night    with    a    drink?    ❞    he    asks,    and    she    can    see    the    hidden    meaning    written    all    over    his    face.    she    pokes    at    her    burger    and    pulls    off    a    piece    of    lettuce.    ❝    oh,    uh...    i    have    another    show    tomorrow    night,    i    don't    know    if    that's    the    best    idea.    ❞    technically    speaking,    her    next    show    was    a    second    night    in    los    angeles,    but    she    wanted    to    be    well    rested    for    it.    she    couldn't    imagine    that    staying    at    brody's    frat    boy    infested    mansion    would    allow    her    much    opportunity    for    a    good    night's    sleep.    

❝    i'll    make    sure    you    get    there,    babe.    i    wanna    introduce    my    girl    to    the    guys.    get    you    feelin'    good,    you    should    let    loose.    big    night    for    you,    after    all.    ❞    so    that's    it.    he    wants    arm    candy.    wants    to    show    off    to    his    boys    that    he    got    the    girl.    it    should    have    been    obvious.    he    wanted    to    parade    her    around    some    more    and    then    try    to    take    her    to    bed    —    she'd    been    rejecting    his    advances    in    that    sense    but    he    still    tried.    

❝    right.    i    guess    i    can    come    hang    out    for    a    little    while,    but    i    really    have    to    get    to    sleep    somewhat    early,    okay?    i'm    no    party    girl,    my    bedtime    is    usually    around    eleven.    ❞    she    laughs,    but    it's    a    little    awkward.    he    was    good    at    convincing    her    to    do    things    she    didn't    want    to    do.    she    was    trying    to    think    of    it    as    getting    her    out    of    her    shell.    she'd    moved    to    los    angeles    and    knew    nobody    here    but    her    moms.    she    needed    to    make    friends    and    have    people    she    could    hang    out    with.    she    was    trying    to    find    her    place    here    and    it    was    proving    to    be    a    little    harder    than    she'd    initially    thought.    

❝    don't    worry,    babe,    i    can    get    you    in    bed    whenever    you    want.    ❞    she    sighs    at    his    words    and    pushes    her    burger    away,    offering    him    it    to    him    in    not    so    many    words.    ❝    i'm    going    to    get    a    refill    on    my    water    and    then    we    can    head    out    if    you're    ready.    i'll    drive    the    maserati    and    you    can    finish    my    burger.    ❞    she    says,    giving    him    a    playful    wink.        she    knew    there    was    very    little    chance    she    was    getting    behind    the    wheel    of    that    car,    no    matter    how    much    she    asked.    she    had    some    thoughts    about    that    car    that    plagued    her    mind...

as    she    takes    her    cup    to    get    her    water,    she    pulls    out    her    phone    and    checks    for    any    new    messages.    she'd    been    hoping    some    of    her    friends    from    back    home    might    have    been    keeping    up    with    her    and    would    congratulate    her    on    the    show.    or,    rather,    she'd    been    hoping    ricky    would...    she    opens    their    text    messages    and    types    a    quick    one    out    to    him    before    going    back    to    brody    with    one    hell    of    a    fake    smile    on    her    face.    

[   sms   →   baby   ]:   had    a    great    time    tonight.    first    show    in    the    books!    look    up    the    first    song    i    played    tonight    on    youtube,    okay?    miss    you.

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Back to School

Clearly, I’m very good at this whole “taking a break from writing so I can focus on research thing”.  But what can I say?  When your muse hits you over the head with a frying pan of inspiration, what else can you do but write?  Especially when you’ve had a shitty day like I did.

So here.  Have Emmett going to his first day of villain school in the Superhero/villain AU.

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              Stan’s red El Diablo came to a much more careful stop than usual.  Slumped in the passenger seat, Emmett morosely stared out the window at his new school.  Nothing about the outward appearance of Sycamore Grove High School would indicate it was anything special.  In fact, it looked almost exactly like the school Emily had been dropped off at a few minutes ago, only nicer, almost like it was private, not public.  The dread that had been churning in Emmett’s stomach amplified.

              “Emmett?”  Emmett didn’t respond to his father’s voice.  “Emmett.”  Emmett slouched further down his seat.  Stan sighed. “C’mon, kid.  You gotta get out.”

              “Just homeschool me,” Emmett mumbled.

              “Your ma and I have jobs.”

              “Yeah, and yours is being a stay-at-home dad. You’re supposed to do things like homeschooling.”

              “You really don’t want me to be your teacher, okay? Trust me on that.”

              “Uncle Ford-”

              “Emmett.”  Stan’s voice got sharper.  Emmett’s shoulders slumped.

              There goes the idea I could talk my way outta this at the last second.

              “You need to go here.”

              “I was s’pposed to go to high school with Emily.”

              “If you get things under control, that might still work out.  But right now, this is the school you’re gonna go to,” Stan said.  “I’m not happy about it either.  You know that.  But we don’t have any other options.”  Emmett didn’t respond.  “Get your stuff.”

              “…Fine.”  Emmet reluctantly grabbed his backpack and opened the door.  He didn’t make any move to get outside.

              “For the love of-”  Stan exited the car and made his way to Emmett.  “Emmett Stanley McGucket.  Get your butt out of the car now,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. Emmett did as he was told.  “You better not act like this all day, you hear me?”

              “Loud and clear,” Emmett mumbled.  Tears began to prick the corners of his eyes.  Stan let out a soft sigh.

              “C’mere, sport.”  Stan wrapped Emmett in a tight embrace.  Emmett returned the gesture, burying his face into his father’s shirt.

              “Dad, I don’t like this.”

              “I know, I know.”  Stan’s voice was gentler than it had been a moment ago.  “I don’t, either.”

              “It sucks.”

              “Yeah, it does.”  Stan broke off the hug and held Emmett at arm’s length.  “But you’re a Pines man.”  Emmett nodded.  “And what do Pines men do when they get knocked down?”

              “They get back up.”

              “That’s right.”  Stan smiled at Emmett.  “You’ll be fine.  Find yourself a friend or two and before you know it, you’ll be graduating.”

              “…I guess.”  Emmett looked over at the students mingling in the courtyard.  “How am I gonna make friends, though?  No one from my middle school is gonna go here. And you and Ma never had me spend time with her coworkers’ kids.  I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

              “Feeling like you don’t belong anywhere is part of the freshman experience.  Your ma said most kids here have never been to a villain-only school before either. Trust me.  Everything’s gonna go great.”

              “Okay.”  Emmett swallowed.  “Are ya sure ya can’t homeschool me?”

              “Sorry, kid.  No dice.”

              “Will you at least pick me up?” Emmett asked. Stan’s face fell.  “What?”

              “This is a one-time thing.  It’s too dangerous for me to drop you off and pick you up all the time.  We can’t risk anyone recognizing me.”

              “Do I have to take the bus home?”

              “Hell, no,” Stan said firmly.  “Your Uncle Lute is gonna pick you up.”  He forced a grin.  “And pretty soon, you’ll be able to drive yourself to school and back home.” Emmett nodded silently.  There was a loud honk.  “Dangit,” Stan muttered.  “People are getting upset I’m parked.”  He met Emmett’s eyes.  “If something happens and you need to come home early, just call.  But try to make it through the day, okay?”

              “Okay, Dad.”

              “That’s my son.”  Stan embraced Emmett one last time.  “Have fun, sport.”

              “I’ll do my best,” Emmett said.  Stan smiled at him, then got back into his car, waving off the frustrated driver behind him.  Emmett watched the car pull away.  He took a deep breath and turned around to face his school.  He swallowed.

              It’ll be fine.  Like Dad said, it’ll be fine.

----- 

              Emmett walked into his first class, Advanced Art History.  He looked around the room.  Students were clustered in small groups as they chatted about their summer vacations. Ducking his head to avoid eye contact with anyone, Emmett made his way to a desk in the back of the room.  He set his bag down.

              “Hey.”  Emmett looked up.  A girl with dyed green hair eyed him suspiciously.  “That’s not your seat.”

              “It doesn’t look taken,” Emmett said softly. The girl rolled her eyes.

              “It’s assigned seating, freshman.  So there aren’t any interactions between different powers.  God.” She turned to her friends.  “Why do they let freshmen into upper level classes? It’s so stupid.”  Emmett snatched his bag up and held it close to his chest.  He could feel panic starting to build.

              “Do you need some help?” someone asked.  Emmett spun around.  A boy about his age smiled sheepishly at him.  “You look a bit nervous.”

              “It’s- um-” Emmett started.  The boy grinned.

              “Your first time at an all-supers school?” he asked.  Emmett nodded reluctantly.  “Don’t worry, most of the freshmen are dealing with that.  And most upperclassmen are nice to freshmen who don’t know the rules,” the boy said, glaring at the girl who had spoken to Emmett earlier.  She rolled her eyes.  “Ignore Lacey.  She’s just angry her boyfriend’s going to a normal school this year.”  The girl – Lacey – glowered.  “C’mon, the seating chart’s always at the front of the class.” Emmett silently followed the boy to the teacher’s desk.  “Right here.” The boy pointed to a piece of paper on the desk.  Emmett nodded.  The boy quirked a half-smile.  “It doesn’t bite.”

              “I know,” Emmett mumbled.  He didn’t move.  The boy put a hand on his shoulder.

              “It’s gonna be all right.  I know all-supers schools can be scary the first time.  I’m just lucky that I’ve been going to them my whole life.  Legally required to.”  Emmett furrowed his brow.  The boy shrugged.  “Psionics usually don’t get their powers until they’re like twenty.  But mine showed up when I was one.  So right off the bat, I couldn’t be around people who weren’t trained on how to handle powers.”

              “My sister’s power manifested when she was one,” Emmett said quietly.  “She’s an elemental, though, so…”

              “Kinda expected,” the boy finished.  He looked down at the seating chart.  “What’s your name?”

              “Emmett.”

              “Emmett…M?”

              “That’s my last initial, yeah.”

              “You’re sitting next to me.”  The boy stuck out his hand.  “I should probably introduce myself, then.  I’m Carter.  Carter Jones.”  Emmett shook Carter’s hand.

              “Nice to meet you, Carter.”

              “So, what brings you to Sycamore Grove?”

              “My power.”

              “Lemme guess.  Psychic?” Carter asked.  Emmett shrugged.

              “Technically, I guess.  How’d ya know?”

              “Psychics and psionics are usually paired up.  I’m immune to psychic powers, after all.”

              “Oh.  Well, that’s not necessary.  I’ve got a power dampener.”

              “You do?  Dude, that sucks,” Carter said emphatically.  Emmett blinked.

              “It does?  Why?”

              “‘Cause kids who rely on power dampeners have to take a special class on controlling their powers.”

              “But my grandma’s been giving me lessons-”

              “Is she a professional villain?”

              “No.”

              Professional, yes.  Villain, no.  Carter nodded.

              “That’s why you still need dampeners.  You haven’t gotten proper training.  But don’t worry, the psychic teachers here are really good. My big brother’s power manifested late, so he got stuck with a power dampener while he was a junior.  Before the year was even over, he didn’t need it anymore.”

              “…I would like to not have to use it.”

              “Well, duh.  It’s basically training wheels.”  The bell rang.  “We better sit down.”  Emmett followed Carter to the back of the room.  Carter pointed out his desk.  Emmett sat down.  Carter followed suit, letting out a small chuckle.

              “What?” Emmett asked.

              “I just think it’s kinda funny.”

              “What is?”

              “I’ve been going to all-supers schools my whole life, so I basically know everyone in this room except you.  And so far, you’re the only person in here that I actually like.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.”  Carter grinned at Emmett.  Emmett smiled back.  “At lunch, want me to introduce you to some other people who don’t suck?”

              “That would be nice.”

              “You got it,” Carter said.  The teacher walked into the room.  Silence fell.  Emmett smiled down at his desk as the teacher took roll call.

              Dad was right.  I can make friends.  Carter nudged Emmett.  Emmett looked up.  Carter nodded at the teacher.  She had gotten to last names starting with “L”.

              “Thanks,” Emmett mouthed to Carter.  Carter winked.

              “Emmett…” the teacher started, reading off a piece of paper.  Her eyes widened.  “McGucket?” Emmett raised his hand.

              “Present,” he replied.  The entire classroom turned to stare at him, including the teacher. “Um, is there a problem?” he asked.

              “No.  Not- not at all,” the teacher said.  “…Thank you for attending Sycamore Grove, Emmett.”  She resumed going through the roll call.  Emmett chewed on his lip.

              That was weird.  Someone poked him.  Emmett looked over.  Carter had gone completely pale.

              “What’s wrong?” Emmett whispered.

              “You’re a McGucket?” Carter hissed back.  Emmett nodded.  “Like, the Twister Twins?  Sirocco? Hemlock?”  Emmett nodded again.  “Holy shit, dude.”

              “Is that a bad thing?”

              “Bad thing?  No, it’s the exact opposite.  You didn’t know?”

              “Know what?”

              “The McGuckets are famous in the villain community,” Carter whispered.  Dread began to grow in Emmett’s chest.  “And if you’re a McGucket, that means you’re gonna be famous, too.”  Emmett’s eyes widened.  He looked towards the front of the classroom.  A few students were still watching him, visibly intrigued. Emmett swallowed.

              Oh.  Oh, no.

[destiny-fics]

To All The Boys I've Loved Before

[Ji Changmin x Fem!reader]

Pairing: Ji Changmin x Fem!reader

Genre: College!au, To All The Boys I've Loved Before au

Summary: Ever since you were 10 years old, you had been writing love letters to the boys you fell for. From Park Seonghwa to Bang Chan you had poured your heart out onto pale pink paper, detailing every single emotion in your head and your heart. You never sent the letters though, for they weren't to be read. And it would stay that way. Until your younger sister came to visit you.

Warnings: swearing, kind of an invasion of privacy, no smut this chapter but there will be in later chapters for minors please dni.

General Taglist: @hiseu @yeosayang @avyskai @whatudowhennooneseesyou @foxdaisy @lickslixie @maskedmochiii

Series Taglist: @calliopegoist @smuchsmut @ilikepalta @heednpy @ilovechanhee @quiltykissed @sanghak-enthusiast  

Part of the To All The Boys I've Loved Before Series

Series Masterlist 

Words can be incredibly powerful in the hands of one who knows how to use them.

They can start and finish wars, break up relationships, cause pain and anger and heartbreak or cause pure joy and happiness, a satisfaction or a warm feeling which blooms inside your chest like the feeling of drinking a hot chocolate on a cold winter's day.

You liked to believe you were able to harness your words into something which was powerful, even if you didn't want anyone to ever know just what you had to say. 

You'd always flown under the radar, something that you were okay with and honestly almost expected being the middle of three sisters. Your oldest sister was incredibly intelligent, the valedictorian of both her high school and college graduating classes and your younger sister was the textbook definition of an extrovert. Popular, friendly and yet would still sit with you on a Friday night watching some cheesy romance movie you'd both pretend to hate even if you actually really enjoyed it.

You suppose that was where the letters came from.

As much as you would have liked to, you knew that you'd never say any of your feelings out loud, especially romantic ones. And you had to admit, it was kind of movie-like to write those letters, even if the intended recipients wouldn't ever read them.

The first letter was addressed to Park Seonghwa. He was the first boy you'd ever fallen in love with. At 10 years old you were almost one hundred percent sure that you and Seonghwa were going to get married and so you'd written a letter to him and then put it in an old hat box. 

The second letter, for Lee Minho, your high school best friend. At least he was until he moved away halfway through your junior year. Minho was your first kiss, the product of a spin the bottle game at a high school party and that had kind of changed things for your friendship, but before either of you could do anything he moved away, leaving your feelings for him to just live in a letter for the rest of time.

Your third letter had been addressed to Kevin Moon, your fellow councillor at the Summer camp you'd both worked at before your senior year. You weren't entirely sure what it was about him that had your heart hammering in your chest. Maybe it was the way he was so good with the campers, maybe it was the way he played piano and sang to you when everyone else had gone to sleep, maybe it was the way he took you behind the councillor's cabin late at night to ask you if you'd be his girl. Or perhaps it was just the light-headedness you'd been experiencing from the heat. But whatever it was, it had prompted you to write a letter and add it to the pile tucked into your hat box.

The next letter was for Ji Changmin, the boy you'd kissed under the mistletoe at your senior class' Christmas party. 

You hadn't even wanted to go to the party, but your friend had managed to convince you, only to leave you to nurse your drink in the corner all alone.

That's when Changmin approached you.

"I don't usually see you at these things." 

You snorted softly and took a sip of your drink "that would be because I don't usually go to these things." 

"You should," he smiled, leaning against the wall. "Parties look good on you."

You raised an eyebrow "I'm standing in the corner drinking alone." 

"That's not true, you're standing with me," he grinned.

"Oh yeah, and I'm so enjoying that." 

"Then you'll be enjoying it even more when I let you know that you've been standing underneath mistletoe for the past fifteen minutes and now I'm standing underneath it with you." 

You looked up and swore under your breath as you caught sight of the plant, looking back at Changmin who was still grinning at you. "You don't really think I'm going to honour that dumb tradition, do you?" 

"I mean you don't have to, but I'd really like it if you did. I mean, for the sake of tradition and all." 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the front of Changmin’s dress shirt, bringing his lips to yours. 

You'd gone home that night and written another letter. 

And for a while that was the last letter you'd written.

Until now.

Because from Minho to Changmin there had been someone else that you'd been in love with, someone that you couldn't have, no matter what. 

Bang Chan.

Your older sister’s boyfriend.

Was it bad practice to fall in love with your sister’s boyfriend? Absolutely yes it was. But you had found over the years that you really couldn't help who you fell for, the heart was just funny like that.

Besides, you had known him first. But over the course of your sister's relationship with him, you'd let your feelings for Chan fade.

Until your younger sister had come to visit, relaying news of the couple's separation and now all of those feelings which you had bottled down over the years were flowing back out again, completely uncensored onto the pale pink paper you had bought specifically for the letters. Sighing, you signed it and put it inside its envelope, placing it atop the other letters inside the hat box. You placed the box back on your shelf before flopping into your bed with a sigh. 

"What are you sighing for? It's my last night here. We should be celebrating, not moping about." 

You rolled your eyes before flicking them over to your younger sister who was standing in the doorway of your room "I'm not moping." 

"You are too," she waltzed over to your bed before flopping next to you. 

"Come on, what would I even have to mope about?" 

"It wouldn't have to do with a certain Bang Chan and his newly ended relationship with our sister would it?" 

You scoffed, even though you knew your sister could see right through it. Your eyes flicked to your wardrobe where you knew the letters were and shook your head "What makes you say that?" 

"Come on, don't bullshit me. You're practically in love with him."

"I am not practically in love with him. That was a long time ago."

"Right," she snorted. "So you're not moping about him on my last night here?" 

"Nope. No moping, not from me." 

"Well then, you won't mind getting dressed up and coming with me to the bar to celebrate, because you're not moping of course." 

You sighed and sat up, looking back toward your wardrobe "of course." 

She grinned and quickly pushed you into the bathroom to get ready, something about not wanting to be late and have all the cute guys already spoken for. You just let her, laughing at her dramatics.

~

As much as you liked to pretend that your sister was annoying, her departure from your apartment was met with many tears and lots of hugging.

"Please don't stay away too long, our door's always open," you sniffled softly, your sister patting your hair. 

"I won't, I promise. Although I doubt you’ll have time to miss me. I have a feeling things will get pretty interesting for you soon enough." 

You pulled away with a raised eyebrow but before you could ask what she meant by that, she got into the awaiting taxi, leaving you lonely once again. 

You sighed, waving her off before adjusting your bag back on your shoulder and heading to class, still pondering over what your sister had meant by her parting words. 

You found out relatively quickly as none other than Ji Changmin approached you, something clutched tightly in his hands.

"Y/n Y/l/n right? Hey." 

You raised an eyebrow nodding slowly "Ji Changmin. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"I uh...got your letter. And I'm really sorry, but I just don't feel the same way."  

"I'm sorry? What letter?"  

Changmin gave you a questioning look as he showed you the envelope, "Uh this one? The one you sent me." 

Your eyes widened as you took in the envelope of the letter. The letter you'd written with the intention of no one ever seeing it. The letter that was now in Ji Changmin's hands. 

Oh shit.

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